Maybe she liked that she always had some sort of a connection to him – one more than sharing a child together, which was clearly not enough for her – but to be his wife? To have had, all these years, one up on the woman he left her for? My hands are curled into fists and I know I’m stomping up the stairs to find my daughter in this unfamiliar house, and I know I have to calm down before I reach Lily because she will feel the tension radiating off me in massive waves.

I reach an open door at the top of the stairs where Ciara is cooing at my daughter and for a second I feel myself relax, but then I notice the small, navy leather-bound book at her side. Joe’s prayer book, tatty and well thumbed. Prayer cards and Mass cards poking out. A thick elastic band holding it all together.

‘Where …’ I start as her eyes dart to mine. ‘Where was that?’

‘Like you don’t know, Heidi. I don’t know what games you’re playing or why you’d pick now of all times to play them, but this is hard enough without you making it harder.’

Confused, I look at her. She is angry. I see that. I see the same anger that I’m feeling in my veins reflected in her. I see the almost imperceptible shake of her hands, hear the slight but definite tremor in her voice.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I say, struggling to control the tremor in my own voice.

‘It was here, Heidi. In your bag. In that bloody baby bag. Right there, where I couldn’t miss it when I went to change Lily.’

‘No,’ I shake my head. ‘It wasn’t. I didn’t have it. I haven’t seen it for days.’

Lily starts to whimper again. Clearly, she can feel the tension growing anyway, even if I’m not holding her. This room feels like all the air is being sucked out of it. Ciara stands up and I’m a scared child again, looking up at her and trying to understand her, but not being able to break through the walls she has thrown up.

‘You’re mad!’ she spits. ‘Fucking mad! Just like your mother before you. She had to wreck things and here you are messing with our heads now. Making accusations. Hiding things. Jesus Christ, Heidi! How far will you go? How far have you gone? You complete fucking loony bin. Why the police haven’t carted you off long before now is beyond me. It’s beyond anyone.’

Before I know it, before I even have the chance to think about it, my hand is raised and moving, and I have to use every ounce of strength in me to stop myself.

‘Fuck you,’ I hiss, my hand tingling with the unspent force of a slap directly across her face.

Ciara just glares at me. Anger radiating from her.

‘I’ll take this with me,’ she says in short staccato beats, lifting the prayer book from the bed. ‘And thanks for giving me one more thing to tell the police about,’ she adds, sidestepping me and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her.