‘I ran away because I couldn’t be without Joe,’ I say, my voice trembling. ‘I’m his mother. I needed to be with him. You wouldn’t understand that.’

‘I wouldn’t understand?’ cries Isobel, her eyes welling with tears. ‘Because I’m a cold-hearted, childless bitch, is that right?’

‘I didn’t say that, I just meant –’

‘You think I owe Grace anything?’ she says, tears and snot running down her face. ‘Getting involved with that girl ruined my life. Do you know what happened three months after that night, eh?’

I shake my head.

‘No, why would you,’ she shrieks. ‘Well, I’ll tell you. Three months to the day after he hid that old lunatic’s body in the lake Steve went and gassed himself in his friend’s garage. They found him after three days. I had to find out by seeing it on the local news. “Mystery as promising young rugby player takes his own life.” That was the headline. But there was no mystery for me. I knew exactly why he had done it. It’s because he couldn’t live with the guilt. He was a good person, a kind-hearted, loving person, and he just couldn’t bear to think that he had disposed of a body like that, colluded in someone’s death. He was a good person, not Grace. And that’s why I have no guilt over what happened to her because as far as I’m concerned she killed Steve. She killed the love of my life.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper. ‘I really am.’

‘You talk about Grace’s life being over,’ she continues, her eyes wild now. ‘Well, mine was destroyed the day I found out about Steve. My heart was ripped to pieces. And then a few weeks later I found out I was pregnant. Imagine explaining that to your father when he’s a vicar. And I wanted that baby. I wanted it so much because it was my only reminder of Steve.’

She starts sobbing. The sound is raw and heartbreaking. I go to her and put my hand on her shoulder.

‘Isobel, I’m sorry,’ I say gently. ‘You’ve been through the worst possible experience but I know what guilt feels like too. It eats you up inside. You’ll never be free until you do the right thing and clear Grace’s name.’

‘Do the right thing?’ she snaps, stumbling to her feet. ‘What about you? The runaway mother who slashed her husband’s face and …’

Her voice is drowned out by the sound of sirens.

‘What’s that?’ I say, my mouth going dry. ‘Did you call them? Maybe they’ve found Joe.’

I rush to the door and start yanking at it. Then I hear Isobel’s footsteps behind me.

‘Yes, I called them,’ she says softly. ‘And I also called his dad.’

‘What?’ I say, turning round. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘Like I said, I saw you on the news,’ she says, sighing heavily. ‘You’d been asking me all sorts of questions about Grace and … I panicked. I thought you were on to me.’