I looked at Ben, my head rolling from side to side, my eyes heavy from the drugs. ‘No Ben, I’ll do it.’

They arranged me between two large cushions on one of the sofas and I looked around the room. I heard the voices of the police constables, but their words moved out of sync with their mouths. I started to imagine I was in a TV show and the sound hadn’t caught up with the images. But this wasn’t TV, was it? This was reality. Wasn’t it?

‘Ah, well, that’s service,’ said the burly constable with a goatee beard as Ben handed him a steaming mug of Annie’s finest blend of coffee. His walkie-talkie that was attached to his shoulder, crackled and beeped and a woman’s voice came through. He twiddled a knob and her voice faded.

‘I’m only sorry it can’t be with a smile,’ Ben said as he perched on the end of the sofa I was sitting on and part of me wanted to laugh loudly at the bizarre way in which the comment fell out of his mouth.

‘I know. We’re so very sorry for your loss. It must be a terribly uncomfortable time for you and… your wife?’ said the woman constable.

‘Yes, my wife. We’re married.’ Ben reached for my limp hand and squeezed it too hard.

‘Hello, Daisy,’ the woman said brightly. ‘I’m Police Constable Jones and this is Police Constable Burns. How far gone are you?’ She motioned to my stomach. I made no effort to reply.

‘She’s almost six months,’ Ben spoke for me. I sat up with some effort. Ben leaned over to assist but I shooed him off. Jones waited for me to get comfortable as she took a pen from the front pocket on her chest.

‘Mr Cartwright. We’re here to talk to you about the death of Eve Parker?’

‘I can answer your questions.’ My voice was scratchy and crackly.

‘Let me get you some water.’ Ben picked up a glass from the coffee table and handed it to me. I took a sip and handed it back to him.

Burns cleared his throat and sat forward on the edge of the sofa. ‘We’re so sorry for your loss, Daisy. I understand your husband here had recently moved in with you?’

‘Yes. That’s right,’ I croaked.

‘And how long have you known your husband, Daisy?’ Burns continued.

‘Six… six months.’ I heard the meek manner in which the line was delivered I never failed to feel a slight flutter of shame, admitting to strangers the foetus was as old as our relationship.

Burns seemed unperturbed and continued. ‘We have the results of the post-mortem Daisy and they show that Miss Parker died of a blunt trauma to the head, now—’

‘What? What does this mean?’ I interrupted Burns. I could feel Ben squeezing my arm.

Burns carried on, unperturbed. ‘We are yet to establish how it occurred and why. We’re here because we need to get as much information from you as we can. We have stayed away for as long as we possibly could, giving you time. We want to eliminate any other possible reasons for her death. Once we get the full report back then we can make the best analysis of what exactly happened.’