‘I’ve only been back one day, but it’s overwhelming. I’m struggling with panic attacks.’ I was happy to exaggerate, if it kept the prescriptions coming.

Doctor Sola nodded and tapped her keyboard. ‘I’ll sign you off for the rest of this week. Just to help you get back on your feet.’

The chemist next door always took an age, the staff behind the counter moving at their usual glacial pace. My reflection in the make-up display scared me. I no longer looked like myself. Pale, sunken eyes, sallow skin and flat lifeless hair. My cheeks were hollow too; I’d been ignoring the extra room in my waistbands and ribs were starting to show. I wasn’t vain, but I did take pride in my appearance. Wearing make-up most days, hair done and always clean. Now I was modelling the heroin-chic look from the nineties.

Blinking back tears, I accepted the small paper bag the lady behind the counter handed me and tapped my card against the reader. A loud beep and an error message told me my debit card had been declined. The queue behind me was growing as I quickly fumbled for another card in my purse, paid for the drugs and left. Clutching them close, I hurried back to the flat.

The phone call to Stuart was awkward and I used the emotion in my voice to my advantage. He said he understood and was worried coming back this week may have been too soon. I wondered if I would I lose my job? I couldn’t worry about it now. I had to get to the police station.

On arrival, I approached the front desk, the protective glass covered in fingerprints.

‘I’m here to see Detective Emmerson, it’s Eve Harding,’ I told the police officer behind the glass and was advised to take a seat. After perusing the noticeboard which displayed posters advertising FRANK, where you could find honest information about drugs, and a guide to preventing bike theft, I sat in one of the orange plastic seats that were bolted to the wall. This part of the station was cold and uninviting, the walls had scuff marks and obscenities were scratched into the black metal chair legs. The whole place looked tired and dirty. Thankfully I didn’t have long to wait. The detective burst through the door, her cheeks flushed, and ushered me through the metal door and into an interview room.