Romy twitched, feeling she was under interrogation. ‘He said he didn’t do it,’ she replied. Although, in fact, it hadn’t been his first reaction. ‘He couldn’t even remember who she was,’ she added. But her own words made her squirm. They sounded so pathetic, such a huge lie, and she hurried on, desperate to make him understand: ‘They have young people doing work experience in chambers all the time. There’ve been dozens of them.’

Finch stared at her in disbelief. ‘You can’t be serious, Romy. Michael couldn’t remember?’ He gave a derisive snort. ‘Or did so many teenage girls accuse him of assault that he lost track?’ When she didn’t reply, he went on, ‘So you didn’t do a damn thing? You just put the letter – a letter that makes your hair stand on end – into a drawer and forgot about it, got on with your lives?’

It was damning. She tried again to explain. ‘Michael insisted it wasn’t true. And I believed him. He was my husband, the father of my children.’ She took a trembling breath. ‘There was no name, Finch. I had no idea who she was … and she said she didn’t want to get the police involved. Why would I believe a letter from someone who wouldn’t even give her name over the word of a man I’d been married to for nearly thirty years?’ She paused. ‘And the letter came thirteen years after it had supposedly happened –’

‘Supposedly? Are you seriously telling me you still don’t believe this? That you believe Michael over Grace, even after what she told me last night?’ Finch waved the single sheet angrily under Romy’s nose.

She pulled back, offended, feeling a spurt of anger at Finch’s aggression, at his unquestioning assumption that his beloved Grace was telling the truth.

‘Michael has always categorically denied it,’ she said flatly. ‘He was as horrified as you when he read the letter.’

‘I imagine he was.’ Finch snorted, breathing hard through his sarcasm, his face flushed with anger and confusion.

‘And of course I didn’t forget about it. It obsessed me. But what should I have done? He was my husband and I believed him. Would you really expect me to go to his chambers and ask around, find out if anyone knew who this girl might be, who was accusing Michael of sexual assault?’ She wrapped her arms tightly around her shaking body. ‘Michael is a barrister …’

Finch dropped his head into his hands. She wanted more than anything in the world to have him embrace her right now. But there was no way that would happen.

‘But you knew, didn’t you?’ His voice was heavy and cruel and he would not look at her. ‘You believed every word Grace wrote. That’s why you left him.’