‘You still frightened her.’ Her voice rose. ‘That was true. I just let you believe that was the only reason. You must have known deep down that you hadn’t done anything bad. But you still could have stopped her, you could have explained it was a nightmare, calmed her down.’

‘You could have taken responsibility.’

Grace lifted her head. ‘Stop it. Izzy is dead and nothing either of you say is going to bring her back.’

‘Anna.’ It was Douglas, calmer now, his tone placating.

At the sound of her name, Anna turned and put her cheek to the door.

‘Anna, I’m sorry. Let me in, and we’ll talk about this.’

‘Leave me alone.’

‘Baby.’ His voice was low, almost a caress. ‘Don’t you trust me?’

‘I can’t.’

‘Yes, you can. Unlock the door. I won’t hurt any of you. I just want to talk. Please, Anna. Before it’s too late.’

‘Go away, Douglas,’ Grace shouted. ‘We don’t want you here.’

His fist crashed against the wood and Anna leapt backwards, frightened out of her skin. And then it wasn’t his fist. The edge of a cricket bat broke through the panel, splintering it. Douglas’s hand reached through as he felt for the bolt. Nick pulled himself up off the floor, grasped it and bent it back and Douglas screamed in pain. Nick signalled both women to be quiet. Anna held her breath and Grace did the same. They stared at each other, neither of them moving a muscle.

There. Anna heard it again. A siren.

‘It’s the police,’ Nick grunted, his shoulders relaxing. ‘I asked Mrs Jeffers to call them when I went for the spare key.’

The last thing Anna saw before she was led out of the room was Grace folding Nick into her arms, squeezing him hard, her face pressed into the crook of his neck. He wove his fingers into her hair and held her like his life depended on it. Anna dropped her gaze and turned away.

She and Douglas were put in separate cars. He refused to look at her and she assumed he thought she had done this on purpose, sabotaged his life, but she hadn’t. There was no real reason for any of it: that was the tragedy.

She glanced through the window as the car carrying Douglas pulled out first, overtaking hers. He was staring straight ahead. She tried not to look at him; he had used her, betrayed her and broken her heart, but she couldn’t help herself. She drank in his profile, memorizing it, imprinting it on her brain.