‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘You said I should have come to you before. Well now I am coming to you! Finish it. For me.’

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t take in what she was asking me to do. I stared at the bloodied knife blade clutched in her fist. It must have been cutting her hand; her blood mixing with Liam’s. The wooden handle shook as she thrust it towards me again. Liam was making a horrible gurgling sound and staring at me with terrified, wide eyes.

Did I think about doing it, in that moment, even for one second?

Was I my father’s son after all?

‘Take it!’ she shrieked.

I grabbed it from her hand, jumped to my feet and then threw the blood-slippery knife into the sink.

Because, no.

It turned out that it wasn’t true, you see, that I would do anything for Anya.

I didn’t have it in me after all. Whatever dark place she had somehow held inside for so long, I couldn’t join her there.

I was crying now.

‘I love you so much,’ I said. ‘But it’s over, sweetie, don’t you see?’

I ripped another towel off the counter behind me and got down on my knees next to Liam again. His face was ashen, and he was breathing in small gasps. I began to press it into the wound, scared I was making it worse because he cried out, pitifully quiet.

All I heard was, ‘I’m so sorry, my darling,’ before something slammed into the side of my head and my existence became just a starburst of pain.

You probably think I am a monster. Or at least, a coward. I still don’t know if I did the right thing in tipping off the police. It felt so sordid.

But now she knows I am dying, I have seen with my own eyes that she has lost interest in Olivia. She tells me she won’t be able to cope, that she can’t live in the world without me and Patrick side by side, to support and understand her.

People used to comment with envy at what a tight family unit we are. But I wonder whether we got it wrong, whether we made it impossible for Anya to face the world properly on her own.

I don’t want to go to my death knowing what I know or leaving my daughter in charge of her own child. It is better that Elliott and Olivia make a new start.

Yes, I know I sound callous. But it is for the best reasons.

And now she is here. Crying and covered in blood. She says, ‘I’m sorry but I can’t do it any more.’

And I think, not again. Not again.

ELLIOTT