‘No, he doesn’t. And yes, I’m absolutely convinced he remembers and even more convinced he’ll never part with the information. Soon as I made the connection between the book I was given at a gig and the murder investigation on the news, I rang Liam – from my car, on my way to get the other white book, the one I’d seen on the hospital noticeboard. I asked him where we spent our one and only night in a hotel together. He said, “Don’t you remember?” I told him I wouldn’t have needed to ask him if I remembered, would I? He said, “I see. In that case, I don’t remember either.” Bastard went out of his way to be unhelpful. I told him why I needed to know, but he said Billy and the murders had nothing to do with him.’

I was supposed to provide Liam with hassle-free sex, not involve him in a murder investigation. Having screwed up in this respect, I was stupid to give him the chance to punish me for it. When I told DC Gibbs my secret – a lover who visited at night, while my husband was asleep upstairs – I made it sound daring, maybe even glamorous. I was too ashamed to add, ‘Oh, by the way: my ex-lover’s now refusing to tell me where it was that we spent that night together – he’d rather make me search the entire country for the hotel room we shared.’ Even thinking about saying it makes me shudder. I don’t mind people thinking of me as immoral but I’d rather no one knew I’d been made a fool of.

So why tell Charlie all this? You didn’t have to.

‘You didn’t suggest to your husband that he miss that gig and come to the next one instead?’ asks Charlie. ‘It must have been stressful having them both in the same room.’