Their treatment of you – the words felt like nectar.

‘Like I told you, I was definitely struggling with… alcohol.’ I couldn’t bring myself to say drugs out loud, not to a policewoman. ‘And I’m grateful they helped me get treatment: after I collapsed on the street, I was determined to get sober. But the thing I know now, thanks to Amber, is that it was all a symptom. I was trying to blot out anxiety and low self-esteem that I’ve been fighting since I was a teenager, thanks to my parents. And as I started to change, my family couldn’t handle this – this new version of me…’

‘Right,’ said Detective Williams, looking thoughtful.

‘I’m so much better now. I haven’t had a drink for three months, I’m running a huge infrastructure project at work, I’ve got a wonderful new boyfriend. I don’t know why my parents can’t just be happy for me.’

That statement was so very nearly true – the tiny gap with reality was a gully that pulled me down into a slipstream of sadness. I didn’t let the mask slip.

‘But give me the facts,’ said Williams, her concentration intense. ‘Why, in your opinion, is this harassment?’

Colour rose to my cheeks, my heart beating like a piston in my chest. I needed to pitch this next shot carefully.

‘The fact that I chose not to spend Christmas with them sent Mum over the edge.’

‘And you spent it with Ms Greville? At her home, or…’

‘It was a healing retreat.’ A flash of memory. My face, rolling fast towards the carpet as I came off the couch. I felt my body contract with residual shock. ‘It was amazing, it was such a privilege to be a part of it.’

‘So that frustrated your mother?’ said Williams, her expression hard to read. My gaze surfed her hands again – two bands sat firmly on her wedding finger. Was she imagining her own child rejecting her for the most wonderful time of the year, wondering how I could be that selfish?

‘More than that. When I got home, she’d let herself into my flat. It was terrifying – I thought it was a break-in.’ My voice wobbled a little. ‘I’m a woman living alone. It’s a vulnerable feeling.’

‘So, she has a key?’

‘Apparently. I didn’t know that.’

Williams industriously scribbled a note. ‘So, you hadn’t given permission for her to enter your property or hold a key?’

‘Absolutely not. And then she was verbally abusive, not just to me, but to the two friends I’d brought in for protection. I mean, there was no burglar, but it turned out I needed protection anyway.’

Williams nodded with what looked like sympathy. ‘And how did that night end?’

I took a second to remember the phrase that I’d practised so diligently with Amber.