Blue lights flash by the marquee windows and I keep looking up, hoping to see an ambulance coming away from the stables with its emergency siren on, giving me a sign that skilled paramedics are miraculously bringing Vanessa’s stricken body slowly back to life. But there’s such a flurry of noise and lights that it’s impossible to see which direction they’re going in, let alone what vehicles they are.

There’s a sudden shift in atmosphere as the policemen by the door, who I was assured were for my protection rather than to prevent me escaping, stand taller and cough awkwardly.

If they were wearing caps, they’d no doubt doff them as Detective Inspector Robson walks in.

‘I told you I had nothing to do with it, didn’t I?’ I croak. ‘If you’d just concentrated on finding him instead of wasting your time on me, then . . . then . . .’ I’m unable to finish the sentence as an image of Vanessa, floating face down with her blonde hair swimming all around her, blindsides me.

‘What happened here tonight?’ she asks. Her face is oddly emotionless.

I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. I found him tied up in the stables, but just as I was releasing him, she came and . . . and . . .’ My mouth is having trouble keeping up with the speed of the sequences that are racing through my brain. ‘I had a hammer, but he came at me, throwing me onto the floor. I thought he was going to kill me but suddenly he was off me and bearing down on her. There was a knife and he must have . . .’ Hot bile pushes up through my chest as I picture her falling backwards. ‘She was just lying there and I ran to get help, but then I heard the splash . . .’

I pause for breath.

‘You know her as Vanessa Talbot. But she was my client and called herself Anna. She talked to me about losing her son and the empty marriage his death had left behind. She always said that they were destroying each other, but I didn’t think for one second he would ever go this far. They were grieving for the little boy they’d lost, blaming each other for what happened. But it seems that in his efforts to relinquish any responsibility for the part he may have played, he created such a deep and convoluted backstory that even he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. He certainly fooled me.’

I wipe a tear away as Robson scratches her head, looking genuinely perplexed. ‘But you said Michael Talbot was your client.’ She opens her notebook and flips over the pages until she finds what she’s looking for. ‘You said that he used the name Jacob.’

‘He lied,’ I say.

‘What exactly did he lie about, Naomi?’ she asks, fixing me with a steely glare.