Finally, after all my investigations, I had to go home. Conway was dead. My husband, my entire existence, was not as I had thought. He had a son. He’d let me think all those years I might have a child too, even though he’d had a vasectomy. He couldn’t be the father of Suzi’s child. He was not even dead. My whole plan, to find Suzi and pull her life apart, piece by piece, had crumbled away. She might not ever know it, but Suzi was a victim too, both of his lies and Nick’s control. I was sick of the narrative I’d chosen: the vengeful wife hunting down my husband’s mistress. I was sick of men, pitting us against each other. Lying. Locking us up in our dolls’ houses. It was time to end it. I had made up my mind – I would go to Suzi, and tell her the truth, and help her to get away from her life. Burn it to the ground, if she had to. I was good at that. Then perhaps, together, we would track down my husband, and make him pay.

It took me almost half an hour to drive down the slipway lane from the motorway to my house, normally a ten-minute journey. Snow had piled up in my absence, and the tyres groaned and slipped on the icy, powdery surface. Gritters did not come down here, I knew. I might not get out again for days. I parked near Holly Cottage, its ruined hulk almost hidden by snow. Shielding my face from the driving snow, I pushed aside its rotten doorway. The roof was so full of holes, the inside may as well have been outside.

‘There, there. I’m sorry, poor boy.’

Poppet was shivering in the makeshift kennel I’d rigged up for him, his food bowl empty. I felt a stab of guilt. What had I been thinking, taking him like this? When he ran off that day in the grounds of the old house, I had quickly found him in the bushes, blazing with anger that Suzi still could not control her dog. Then the idea had come – a way to punish her, unbalance her. I had meant no harm to the dog. I could never hurt an animal, and now the poor thing was freezing because I’d left him tied up in here.

‘Come on, come on.’ I led him with me, towards the relative warmth of my cottage. I would make him a bed in front of the fire, feed him double helpings of Pedigree Chum. Another thing I would have to confess to Suzi.