But am I in danger? Catherine has gone now. Moved out. Maybe that was another lie he told me. Maybe he asked her to leave. After all, he wasn’t exactly pleased when I offered her the room. And they were definitely being snippy with each other yesterday morning. Maybe they aren’t the couple I think they are. Maybe she’s using him to get at me and he’s just been going along with it.

But why? What kind of person would do that? He isn’t a little boy anymore. He’s a grown man. A doctor. What possible motivation could he have had for colluding with her in this? Whatever this is.

The only motive I can think of is revenge. Revenge for Alice’s death. Has Catherine managed to convince Ross of my guilt, persuaded him to string me along in order to undo me somehow?

Besides, if I phoned the police, what would I say? My fiancé has been lying to me. He didn’t tell me he’s known one of his colleagues since they were children. She’s the sister of my best friend who was killed by a train. She’s never liked me and blamed me for her sister’s death, but now I’m friends with her. Or rather, I was.

They’ll think I’m a lunatic. That I’m having some kind of psychotic episode. Ross will be the sensible, respectable GP who tells them I’ve been under a lot of strain recently, what with the unexpected stress of the pregnancy. He’ll tell them how disoriented and poorly I always am after a seizure. They’ll only have to take one look at my pale face and wild hair to believe this. And the hospital will confirm my recent admission.

But when Ross plucks the phone from its cradle on his way out, my fear intensifies.

“I’ll take it downstairs,” he says. “So that it doesn’t wake you if it rings,” and before I have a chance to synchronize my brain and my voice, the door closes softly behind him.

I sink back onto my pillows in frustration. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. The story sounds absurd. It is absurd.

The only thing I can do right now is think. Decide where I’m going to go when I’m strong enough to leave the house. I must have had a plan yesterday, when I packed that rucksack. If only I could remember what it was.

I start to mentally retrace my steps, thinking of every single thing I did from the moment I watched Ross and Catherine drive off in the morning, right up to the point when I pulled the rucksack down and started flinging things inside. After that, my mind is a blank.