Shock numbs her when she flings open the door and takes in the state of Sienna: smeared make-up under her eyes, damp hair plastered to her flushed cheeks. Despite the rain, she’s wearing only a pyjama shorts set under a long, thin cardigan, slippers on her feet, which are already soaked through. Abby manages to take in all these details, despite the rapidly spreading apprehension she feels.

Outside, rain hammers against the ground, an almost soothing distraction, the weather matching the situation as though they are characters in a literary novel.

Tick, tick, tick. Seconds pass before Sienna opens her mouth to speak, even though it’s clear she is desperate to spill what she’s come here to say. Then her words finally come.

‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t… Sienna, what’s going on? Come inside. You’re getting soaked.’ Abby beckons her in.

‘No, I won’t set foot in your house.’ Sienna’s eyes became slits. ‘Just tell me where he is.’

‘Greg? Are you talking about Greg?’ Of course, Abby knows that she is.

‘Where is he?’ Sienna repeats, spitting her words at Abby.

‘I don’t know where Greg is. Why would I? Look, just tell me what’s happened.’ Again, Abby attempts to coax her inside.

The shake of Sienna’s head is so violent that droplets of water fly from her hair, like a dog shaking itself after a bath. ‘Don’t!’ she screams. ‘Don’t you do that. Haven’t you already lied enough?’

‘Sienna, you’re not making any sense. Please, just come inside and tell me what’s going on.’ It’s worth trying to calm her down, even though Abby knows that this is the end of them, the end of everything. There is no way back.

Rob appears at Abby’s side – she didn’t hear him come down – and places his hand on her shoulder as he squints into the night. ‘Sienna? What’s going on?’

She turns to him, and her ghost-like face softens a tiny fraction. Of course, it isn’t Rob her venom is aimed at.

‘Ask your wife,’ she says. ‘She knows exactly what’s going on. And soon the police will too.’

And then she’s gone, leaving the screech of her car tyres burning in Abby’s ears.

Rob shuts the door and turns to her. He’s staring at her, his eyes questioning. There’s accusation there too, she’s sure of it.

‘What the hell was that?’ He takes a step back, as though she is brandishing a knife.

‘I… I don’t know. Sienna’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with her.’ Because it’s a lie, every word is a struggle. She knows exactly what’s wrong, but there’s no way she can tell Rob and unleash a flood that will result in the end of her marriage.