I’d had plenty of time to play it all out in my head, but I wasn’t sure I was feeling any cooler about it.

‘I’m guessing you’ve called to apologise,’ he carried on, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. ‘And if that’s the case, then I’m happy to just forget about it.’

In his thick head it was all catalogued just as I thought it would be.

‘I take it, that is why you’ve called?’ he frowned.

‘Tell me, Jonathan,’ I finally asked, just to be completely certain, ‘what exactly is it that you’re expecting me to apologise for?’

His smile slipped a little and he began to chew his lip.

‘What is it that I’ve done that warrants an apology?’ I asked again, my voice a little stronger now.

‘Do you really need me to spell it out?’

I nodded.

‘Yes, please.’

‘Well for a start, you wouldn’t cut your time in Wynbridge short, even though you know there’s so much to organise ahead of our move.’ he began. He didn’t sound quite so good-natured now. ‘I still can’t believe you went in the first place, to be honest, and then there was the flirting at the hotel and your refusal to come home with me after that. Not to mention how you flew off the handle when I suggested that you should look for a job more suited to our social standing . . .’

I zoned out as he got into his stride. If it wasn’t some fantastical fabrication of his own making, his gripe was about a rare moment when I had stood my ground and he hadn’t got his own way. What a waste of a call this was. I should never have asked him to spell it out for me, but at least his list of my alleged crimes was the proof, not that I really needed more, that I was doing the right thing.

‘So,’ I said, finally raising my voice to a level capable of cutting him off, but hopefully not waking my host, ‘basically you’re expecting me to apologise for things I haven’t done but that you’ve dreamt up and for not toeing the line when you’ve told me to. Is that right?’

Dolly had been right. Now I was off and running I was feeling much braver thanks to the physical distance between Jonathan and me.

‘Look,’ he said, his eyes taking on that shark-like glaze which had always warned me when trouble was looming, ‘I know things got a little out of hand at the hotel—’

‘A little!’ I laughed, holding up my wrist so he could see the bruises he had inflicted.

They had spread further and were darker now and my wrist was tender to touch. It was going to take some time for them to fade both physically and mentally.