It was a suicide note. He was going to kill her and then claim she had committed suicide.

Oh God. That was why they were going to Eastbourne, but it wasn’t Eastbourne that was their destination.

It was Beachy Head.

Some of the highest cliffs in the country and a popular – if that was the word – suicide spot.

And he was going to kill her there, then leave the suicide note on her body.

But there was a problem. Yes, he had her signature, but if he was writing the note it would be obvious what he had done. Matt – God, how her heart ached for Matt – would know immediately it wasn’t her handwriting.

So there must be more to it. She felt exhausted. Every time she thought she had a handle on this, a new, unanticipated aspect of his plan appeared.

‘So,’ he said. ‘Do you want to hear the rest of it? It’s brilliant. I’m sure you’ll agree. Absolutely brilliant.’

Even after all this I still hope she might be impressed by what I am doing, but then I push that aside. She is nothing to me now. Just another one of the ants swarming around my feet.

But I do have a problem.

The SOS. As soon as those two idiot police said there’d been an SOS from the house, I saw it. I’d thought she was at home, getting ready for the plastic surgery, getting ready for our new life, but in fact she was working on getting away from me.

And she had sent an SOS.

Here’s the problem: whatever else happened, everybody would know she had tried to escape. It would be so embarrassing. The thought she could prefer that fool of a husband to me. Unbearable.

So yes, I can kill her, but I will still be humiliated. But this will change all that. At the very end, I will win. Yes, I may have lost battles, but the war will be mine.

They will think we chose to die together, lovers in each other’s arms.

It does not matter what is true. I am creating an illusion. That is enough.

I will sacrifice her to avoid the shame and embarrassment this would cause me. She can hardly complain. She brought it on herself.

‘So,’ I say. ‘Do you want to hear the rest of it? It’s brilliant. I’m sure you’ll agree. Absolutely brilliant.’

She shakes her head.

‘It is,’ I say. ‘You may not like it, but you’ll have to admit it is brilliant. Should I elaborate? Give you the details.’

She does not reply, so I start to read.

‘To whom it may concern. We have decided that we have only one course of action available to us. We want to be together, for eternity, and we know now that will be impossible, so we have decided to take matters into our own hands.’