I wake up crying. I’ve had one of those dreams when you believe that you have murdered someone. I was searching the whole house for loose floorboards and felt like someone was coming to get me. I’d finally settled on the notion that I’d buried someone in the cupboard under the floorboards. I was sitting in the hallway just waiting for the police to arrive.

I sit up in bed and realise it was just a dream. Just a dream. Of course, everything that has happened has had an effect on me. Why wouldn’t it? This is my subconscious trying to sort it through. It isn’t real.

No time for lying in bed analysing my psyche today. I check my phone and there’s a text from Lee telling me he’ll be round at nine. The meeting’s at two so I need to be in town by one. I desperately need to go into work. I can fit it all in. I can. This is what life’s going to be like now. Full-time busy. It’s exciting.

Just as Lee turns up in a large van, the postman appears.

‘Thought you’d finished with all this.’

He hands me an Amazon box and stands there waiting for me to say something.

‘I have. This is just bin bags and the rest is going. As soon as possible.’

He shakes his head and peers around me into the house.

‘Bloody hell. Big job.’

Lee appears. In the light of day, away from the bright hotel lights, he’s about forty and he’s wearing jeans, hands in pockets and a bobble hat. Long brown hair. He assesses the situation quickly.

‘I’ll be sorting this lot out. She’s donating it to charity.’

I suddenly wish I’d had a shower and put on some make-up.

‘Right. Shall we make a start?’

We walk up the path and he’s looking at me.

‘Aren’t you that woman whose husband …?’

‘Yes. Yes I am.’

He stops.

‘Yeah. I saw that. Terrible. I’m sorry.’

I laugh inappropriately. It’s the nerves.

‘It’s not your fault. Don’t be sorry. Anyway, it’s sorted now.’

But he persists.

‘But I am sorry. I’m apologising on behalf of decent men everywhere. We’re not all like that.’ He looks serious and I know that my face shows my mortification. But he starts to laugh. He touches my shoulder. Then he looks horrified. ‘No. No. We’re really not. That made it look like I was joking. God. This isn’t going well. I really shouldn’t be around people.’

I smile.

‘I know what you meant. Thanks. But it’s sorted. I just need to get rid of all this. It’s been … well, a long year.’

We go inside and I’m embarrassed. He’s looking around in awe.

‘Jesus Christ, this is the worst I’ve ever seen.’