My screams are muffled by his hand as he drags me across the kitchen, Toffee leaping and barking beside him. Douglas gives him a kick that sends him squealing back to his bed. I grab the door frame, my fingernails breaking against the wood.

‘Anna,’ he says sharply.

After hesitating she comes running, forces my fingers free, then grips my wrists as he pulls me backwards and up the stairs. Toffee comes back, yapping at Douglas, trembling like he did the day Lottie and I adopted him. Anna won’t look me in the eye, she just keeps moving, restraining me, until we’re in my bathroom. Shut out of the room, Toffee barks and barks.

Douglas tells Anna to run a bath, while he holds me pinned against him. His heart is racing as fast as mine. I struggle, but the arm he has round me is like iron and the hand across my mouth and nose makes it hard to breathe. The taps run, steam rising, and I panic like a bird caught in the jaws of a cat.

At a command from Douglas, Anna leaves the room and comes back with a sharp knife. She presses herself against the door, watching the water gush. She’s pale, wraithlike as her figure melts into the steam.

‘Don’t just stand there, get her boots off.’ Douglas’s voice cuts through the warm mist.

She drops to her knees and takes hold of my foot. I kick her in the shoulder; she springs back and tries again, tugging at my heel while I contort my body. Once both boots are off, thrown into a corner of the room, the two of them hold me down, my back pressed into the tiled floor, Douglas at my head, Anna at my feet, until he motions her to turn off the taps. Between the two of them, they get me into the bath and duck me underwater. I close my eyes, screaming and choking each time I manage to surface.

‘Jesus,’ Douglas snaps. ‘Keep her still.’

It turns out it’s not that easy to kill someone, especially if you want to make it look self-inflicted. It means he has to be careful not to slash me anywhere but on my wrists. I keep moving, fighting them for every scratch, every cut, making myself picture Nick and Lottie. I imagine their arms around me, their lips pressed against my cheeks. I remind myself of the wonder I felt when Lottie was born, of the long lashes draped against the translucent skin beneath her eyes, her little mouth pursing, tiny fingers gripped around mine. I raise my chest, rocking from side to side, until Douglas finally loses patience and plunges my head under the water.