Before I was taken to the custody suite, I was offered legal representation and within twenty minutes a skinny man with wire-rimmed glasses and a bald head knocks on the heavy door. He’s let in, introduces himself as Terry Deacon and asks me to run through the events of last night. As I tell him, he barely glances in my direction, there’s no flicker of emotion as I explain what I’ve been through. No doubt he’s heard it all before; I’m just another legal-aid case, a tick in the box. He flicks through a file of papers and advises me to respond ‘no comment’ to all questions.

We sit in the interview room and the detective switches the recorder on. He is heavy-set, I would guess in his late fifties, with unkempt ash blond hair, and looks like he has just rolled out of bed. Shirt crumpled, with a tie sat clumsily to the left. Someone should tell him; I’m surprised his colleague hasn’t. A female detective sits beside him, she looks to be in her late thirties and in stark contrast is immaculately presented. Her crisp blouse collar, ice white and starched, is standing to attention. Chestnut hair pulled back into a tight bun, stiff with hairspray. I sense she has something to prove. She smiles at me and when she does her face softens as she slides the coffee I was offered across the table. I need it to stay awake now the adrenaline has left my system.

‘Right, Rose, I think we’re ready to start.’ The male detective clears his throat and announces the date and time, occupants of the room – he is Detective Gary Hicks and she is Detective Sarah Becker – as well as stating the recording is taking place at Sutton police station.

‘Call me Eve,’ I say. No one calls me Rose now, not since my father died.

Hicks nods his head. ‘Eve, I’m afraid there have been some developments since you were brought to the station. Unfortunately, Mr Shaw has died as a result of his injuries, so we have to re-arrest you on a different charge. Do you understand?’

I hang my head. I don’t want my eyes to betray me, so I nod.

‘For the purpose of the recording, Eve has nodded her head,’ Becker says. She lays a cold hand upon my wrist, I flinch but meet her gaze. Her eyes flash a glimpse of compassion and mine brim with tears on cue.

I’m read my rights for the second time.

‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of murder…’ And so, it begins.

Monday 25 September 2017