Romy didn’t answer, just stared at him, waiting. For what seemed like an age, he looked away, eyelids blinking, mouth twisting. But eventually he gave a heavy sigh, leaning in towards her, his words barely audible above the muted hubbub of the restaurant and the churning hiss of the espresso machine behind the bar. ‘If you really want to know the truth,’ he began, ‘Michael was not, as I told you before, in a “ bit of a state ” that night. He was in a dreadful state. So distraught he had to drink a large glass of whisky before he could say a word. He gave me a garbled account of what had happened … Then he told me he was scared witless she’d go to the police.’

Romy swallowed, feeling a shiver go up her spine. ‘The police?’

James hesitated, his eyes hooded. Then he nodded reluctantly. ‘He said he thought he’d gone too far. When I asked what he meant, he said – and I quote, because I’ll never forget his words – “ I think I might have hurt her.”’ His cheeks puffed as he blew out a slow breath.

Romy held her napkin to her mouth, suddenly fearing that the wine she’d just swallowed might come right back up as her stomach clenched and pitched.

James, seeing her horror, went on earnestly, ‘I honestly don’t think he was in his right mind, Romy. You know Michael – he’s Mr Cool most of the time, nothing fazes him. But that night he looked like he’d seen a ghost.’

Yes, thought Romy, bleakly, the ghost of his real self.

James was searching her face for a reaction. But all Romy could think about was Michael’s dark eyes, full of bewilderment and hurt innocence, his anger that she should doubt him – I absolutely was not violent, Romy. I wasn’t. She had tried so hard to believe in him. He played me. She shuddered at the thought. He absolutely played me. His wife of over thirty years and he’d looked her in the eyes and lied through his bloody teeth.

‘I kept hoping I was wrong,’ she said quietly, then added, ‘Didn’t you worry … that he was capable of doing such a thing?’

James sighed. ‘Michael’s not a violent man, I’m sure you’ll agree. I was convinced it was just a very unfortunate one-off … maybe brought on by the ludicrous work pressure he was under.’ He paused, and Romy saw he was sweating, his forehead pink and glistening.