In the days after my husband died, I had looked through the items in his car like a historian pouring over the grave goods of some long-dead pharaoh. What did they mean? How had he been able to lie for so long about his job? It certainly explained why there were never any parties, or dinners with work colleagues. He had always said he didn’t want to socialise with them, that he preferred to spend time with me when he wasn’t working. I’d been pleased. Then the entire sham of my life was laid open to me and I had to find out more.

Suzi had gone away again a few days before, taking an overnight bag and another expensive taxi. Watching from the window, I’d heard Nick call, ‘Say hello to Mum for me,’ and I deduced she was visiting her mother. She’d told me ‘Mum’ was away for Christmas on a cruise, so that made sense. I felt a coldness between us – she hadn’t told me she was leaving; indeed, we hadn’t spoken since she heard me playing the piano. I wondered what was going on. I had even felt a brief stab of fear, but surely there was no way she could know who I was. Suzi was so wrapped up in her own grief and fear that she probably never gave me a second thought.

I kept coming back to what Conway had said. You don’t know the half of it, love. Did he mean what I thought he meant? It sounded so ridiculous even to think it. I ran through the steps in my head. They’d said Patrick was still conscious when the ambulance came. What had happened after he arrived at hospital? Someone would have had to treat him – multiple someones. Nurses, doctors, receptionists. It would have left a trail. If he was well enough then, wouldn’t they have been surprised when he later died? Would it not have raised alarm bells? Had someone hurt him, while he lay in hospital, recovering from the crash?

I drove to Surrey General, marvelling that I had never been there before. I had suggested a few times that we could meet for lunch, but Patrick always said he was too busy. Saving lives, bringing babies into the world. The more I thought about it, the easier I saw it would have been to fool me. I never came to his work – and he did work there in any case, just not as a doctor. I’d never met anyone he worked with. I never questioned what he told me. He had shelves full of medical texts, and I’d even seen a picture of him at medical school.