An unexpected barrage of tears rushes to my eyes, but I don’t know if they’re for the nan my mother will never be, or the fact that my world is so far removed from the one I’m portraying. An onlooker would never guess, as I twist my wedding band, that I’m about to go into battle to save my marriage. No one would know that the denim jacket draped so casually over my arm had to be taken off when I perspired under a police officer’s questioning. And I’d give a thousand pounds to anyone on this train who thinks I’m a prime suspect in a man’s disappearance.

As I squirm under the invisible microscope, an overwhelming heat envelops me. Pinpricks of sweat spring to my fingertips, as every pore on my body feels like it’s being suffocated. My legs are like red-hot pokers, burning from the inside out, and my ribs feel charred from the furnace that’s emanating from my core. I have to get off; I have to get some air.

If the train wasn’t coming into Faversham, I’d pull the emergency stop lever, such is the panic collecting in every fibre of my being. I gasp as I fall through the opening doors, stumbling onto the platform, no longer caring who sees me or what they think. I drag myself over to a bench, collapsing onto it, fighting for breath.

I can’t go home to Leon in this state; I need to think. I need to have a plan of action. I just need to sit him down and start from the beginning; explain why I haven’t told him about the flat, tell him that I couldn’t admit to meeting Jacob in the hotel . . .

The hotel. Shit.

Without even making a conscious decision to do it, I’m racing down the stairs and through the underpass to the other side of the tracks. I hear the slow rumble of an approaching train and take the stairs two at a time, reaching the top just as it thunders onto the platform.

‘The train approaching platform three is to Dover Priory,’ sounds the announcer. ‘Calling at Selling, Canterbury East . . .’ I don’t listen any more; I’ve heard all that I need to hear.

I don’t know if Andy, my former boss, is even working a shift at the hotel right now, but I’ve got to take this chance. It might be the only one I get.

Once I get back to Canterbury I want to run up the ramp towards the hotel, but I can’t risk drawing attention to myself so I speed-walk instead. The lobby is surprisingly quiet, caught in the lull between guests having gotten in from their day’s expeditions and going back out again for dinner. I force myself to walk slowly over to the reception desk.

‘Hi, is Andy on duty?’ I ask.