I wondered what he meant. And then it made sense. He was a policeman. No wonder Daphne didn’t want me to ring them. He was one of them. Men who abused their power. Men others automatically believed.

Like Victor Carmichael.

Victor was a piece of scum masquerading as an upstanding member of the community, a doctor no less. Nobody would have believed me over him. He’d tried to ruin my life and it looked like Neil had done the same to Daphne.

‘I’ll just run away again,’ I heard her say, her voice sounding small in the darkness.

‘And I’ll always find you.’

‘Not this time.’

‘Faking your death. That was clever, I’ll give you that. But you’re not clever enough, Jean.’

My blood pounded in my ears. I didn’t want Daphne to leave. I loved her, I realized. She made me happy. I didn’t want to live a life without her. I wanted it to stay the way it was, the three of us living in this cottage, safe – or we were, until Neil had turned up, tainting our lovely world.

Was it the idea of Victor and the way he had treated me that made me do it? Was it the thought of Daphne forever running away, never able to be with me, with us? I was so angry, so fed up with being powerless. For once I wanted to be proactive. Not passive. I wanted to be the one in charge.

I just wanted to make it all go away. Make him go away.

I watched as he trailed a finger down her cheek and neck, his face too close to hers. Then he gripped Daphne’s upper arms and pushed her back against the wall of the cottage. ‘You’re a liar,’ he snarled. I saw the fear in her face and it took me right back to the time Victor had first hit me. When I realized that not all men were kind-hearted like my father had been. A naive little fool.

But I wasn’t that person any more. You had changed me. Daphne had changed me. I needed to protect her and the life the three of us had.

‘Leave her alone,’ I called from the doorway.

It was like snapshots flashing before my eyes: Daphne’s fear, the sneer on Neil’s face, as though he was enjoying the power.

I don’t remember snatching the breadknife from the block on the counter.

I don’t remember striding across the patio and plunging it just below his ribcage in one swift movement.

It was all so quick.

I let go of the knife in shock at what I’d done, stumbling backwards, catching sight of the horror on Daphne’s face.

‘You bitch,’ Neil rasped, dropping to his knees on the lawn. ‘You fucking bitch.’

He clutched the handle of the knife where it protruded from his stomach.