‘I’m sorry, I have to think,’ I said as a hot feeling of fury washed over me, stealing my breath in a way that was a bit frightening. I felt like I was having some sort of anxiety attack. I just couldn’t believe that all this had happened, and Anya had chosen not to share one single bit of it with me, her husband. I had to get out.

‘Elliott!’

I crashed out of the flat and ran down the stairs and out the front door, hearing her call my name again.

I began to walk quickly and mindlessly until I came to an ugly modern pub that was entirely out of character in these quaint streets. Inside it was gloomily lit and a few old men were sitting in corners, staring balefully into their pints. It felt as though the wallpaper had soaked up all the smells of times gone by and a powerful urge for a cigarette hit me in the back of my throat in Pavlovian response.

I ordered a double Jack Daniel’s and soda from a taciturn, Scottish barman and went to sit in the corner. My phone began to buzz with a call and I looked down and pressed decline. I had to think. I couldn’t talk to her right now.

The drink warmed my throat and I closed my eyes for a moment.

Anya had killed a man. She did it to save her life.

But I couldn’t seem to keep hold of these slippery facts. I knew that Anya would be suffering right now, desperate to know that I was not judging her.

I wasn’t. Who was I to judge anyone?

A man was dead. A man who had terrorized the woman I loved more than anyone in the world. Why couldn’t I focus on this, the most serious part of the whole equation? She needed me now.

Now, she needed me.

That was it. That was why I ignored her next call and the texts that pinged onto my screen, one by one.

Where are you, babe?xxxxxx

Please ring me I’m going crazy here wondering what you’re thinking.xxxx

Elliott? Please ring I’m freaking out xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I’m scared now. What are you doing? Xxxxxxxxxx

I didn’t like to think of her being scared; maybe thinking I was going to the police like some moral crusader. What a joke that was. It wasn’t enough though; it wasn’t enough to make me call her back.

The truth was, a feeling I can only describe as a deep loneliness had wrapped itself around me like a cold shroud. Her panicky entreaties weren’t even beginning to penetrate it.