His words penetrate her body like a bullet ripping through her skin. Now she’s burning up and the heat threatens to burn her alive. ‘What are you talking about?’ she manages to ask.

Greg heads to a bench and sits down. ‘I think you might want to reconsider talking about what happened the other night. To anyone.’

She can’t answer. Doesn’t want to or know how to. Slowly, she joins him on the bench.

‘And with all this in mind, I don’t think you should be forcing me to talk to my wife. And if it all comes out, maybe Rob might understand about the night of our dinner party, but I’m sure he wouldn’t understand everything else, would he? That’s something quite different altogether I believe.’

Now she understands Greg’s words about being backed into a corner; this is exactly what he’s done to her, so the next sentence out of her mouth is a lie.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I’m going to do you a favour right now and spare you any more lies.’ He pulls his phone from his pocket and scrolls though it, passing it to her when he’s found what he’s looking for. ‘There you go.’

For a second the words don’t make sense, swimming before her eyes until one by one they all come into sharp focus. The words she’s staring at are her own. Words that Greg should never have been able to see. She stops reading and shoves his phone away. He swipes it from her before it can fall to the ground.

‘You really should be more careful to delete your emails,’ he says.

‘How… did you get that?’

‘As I said, Abby, you backed me into a corner and forced me to do things I never normally would. With a bit of help, I got access to your emails. Then I just forwarded this one to myself. It wasn’t difficult.’ This is why he needed this extra time, she realises too late.

‘I can’t let you talk to Sienna,’ he continues, ‘and this is the only way I can stop you.’

She remains silent. Now she is the one whose back is against the wall. She can’t let him show Rob – it would destroy him. He doesn’t deserve that; all he’s done is love Abby – too much probably – so she owes it to him to protect him from it.

‘Well, that tells me I’m right,’ Greg says when she can’t reply. ‘It turns out we all have skeletons in our closet, don’t we?’

Abby stands, somehow managing to pull herself from the bench. There is nothing more to say. He doesn’t call after her when she walks away, yet she can feel his eyes on her. He knows he has won.