‘You trusted me. Enough to tell me some of your worries, anyway – I knew you didn’t fully trust me. But after a little while I began to believe you might. It was the closest I’d come to having a friend.’

I drag my fingers through my hair and sigh. Jesus. If she’s trying to make me feel guilty, she’s succeeding. I’m a terrible person. Seeing only the shell, never willing to chip away and get to the woman underneath.

‘Wayne is controlling, then? Someone you fear? Is that why you never wanted me to meet him?’

‘That’s one reason, yes. After almost thirty years of being married to him, he’s dragged me down so far I can’t claw my way back up. I’ve no energy left to fight him. I don’t mean physically – I was never strong enough for that – I mean mentally. Bit by bit I lost who I was, and I became what he wanted me to be. Did what he wanted me to do.’

‘I’m so very sorry, Davina. I had no idea.’ Although I had, hadn’t I? I’d just chosen not to act on my suspicions in fear of coming across as nosy and interfering. Like Davina.

‘I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend. I tried … I really, really tried. I promise.’

‘God, no. Please, Davina, you shouldn’t be the one apologising. I’m the one who let you down—’

‘Don’t,’ Davina says loudly, pushing her hand out in front of her, palm towards me. ‘Don’t interrupt me now. I’m not finished.’

I’m taken aback at her aggressively spoken words. I do as she says.

She pulls her hand back and lays it on her lap. ‘Barb is the one who’s trying to keep you here.’

‘Yes, I know—’

‘Please! Just listen, okay?’

‘Sorry.’

‘She’s trying to keep you here, and she has her reasons for that. Reasons she’s keen no one finds out about. She’s pissed off with me – and she can join the queue there – and she threatened me tonight. That’s why she was at mine. To warn me away.’

I have to bite my lip to stop myself asking ‘Away from what?’ but it’s clear Davina needs to do this in her own time and without me interrupting her. I did want her to stay the night, so I guess I’m getting what I wanted.

‘She’s no idea what else is going on though. She thinks this is all about her,’ Davina scoffs. ‘Typical of Barbara. Self-centred and vain to the last.’

‘To the last?’ I can’t help myself; the words come out.