‘Yes. The whole time. What did he tell you when he brought you to my house? That it was all a set-up? That it was over long ago? Because it wasn’t. He lied and he lied fucking good. But I knew, really, somewhere inside, that he wasn’t really there. That part of him was always somewhere else. And you do too, if you’re honest with yourself.’

We sit in silence, me beside her now. Her eyes scan the surfaces as she mentally counts the cleaning processes she has to go through, then she remembers that she told him not to come.

‘Do you think he’ll still come for Jamie?’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me. But don’t worry, I’ll keep out of the way. It won’t go down too well if I’m here.’

I worry for a second that him coming here will invoke the injunction so near to Tuesday. But I know him. He won’t come. He’ll be too busy covering his tracks.

‘No, no. It doesn’t matter now. I’m not letting Jamie go. If he calls the police, let him. As well as everything you’ve said, there’s the stuff on the TV. I’ve sent my solicitor an email and he said to tell Jack to contact him. Not to get involved.’

I look at her. She’s trying to dredge up strength, do what’s right for Jamie.

‘I’ll help you. We can do this together.’

After lunch we sit at the kitchen table and look at the Facebook and Twitter messages. There are thousands of them now. All from people who have been lied to, cheated on and exposed for the #cheatingbastards they really are. Yes, I’ll be friends with Katy; she’s a lovely, warm woman who’s been taken in. That’s all. She never meant to hurt me. If I keep telling myself that I will believe it eventually, instead of the conditioned playing off against each other. Because this is the truth, not Jack’s truth.

The time passes when he would have turned up and he’s a no-show. Katy is nervous and Jamie is asking where Daddy is. Isn’t he coming today? When she says no, he asks if he can phone him. Then he tells Katy very earnestly that he was going to have dinner with Charlie and Laura and they’ll get his pudding. That Charlie wants to play football with him.

My heart is breaking. All these children, blissfully unaware of their father’s failings. Not understanding why Mummy is so sad. All I can do is make this right again for them as best I can.

I panic as I realise that all this is public knowledge and for ever. Will my children see it? Will my parents? I quickly Google my own name to see if I’ve been implicated in the Peter Daubney case yet.