The medical staff don’t seem convinced I’ve fallen. The psychologist who comes to the ward seems to be under the impression I have a drinking problem. I imagine the visit prompted by Andrew – another layer of his smokescreen, another seed of my intended destruction sown, while my husband waits to reap his rewards.

My body physically recoils at the sight of him when he arrives while DS May is visiting, bile rising in my throat, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from throwing up.

‘Say anything to the police, and I’ll do worse next time,’ he whispers after DS May leaves us together. ‘You’ll never walk again, Elise. Your legs …’ He casts his eyes down my body. ‘Do you know what it would take to damage ligaments, snap bones? How easy it would be to make it look like another accident?’

My fear knows a new level, but he doesn’t have to tell me what he can do. Unable to move without pain shooting through my body, I already know.

Standing at the foot of my bed, he tells me, ‘I’ve contacted the rental agency.’

I feel my eyes widen with shock.

‘I told them you’d had a change of heart. Oh, and I said you felt bad about letting them down and not to worry about refunding your money.’ He even fakes a chuckle. ‘I explained that I was your husband, and that you’d had a repeat of a psychotic episode. To be honest, I think they were relieved I told them. They think I’ve saved them a whole load of problems.’

In his smug smile, I see what I haven’t seen before. In Andrew’s warped, twisted mind, any lies are facts if he wants them to be.

Once he’s gone, I lie on my side, gazing out of the window over the rooftops, broken here and there by branches of trees clad in the pale green of spring. Before long, the first swallows will arrive, their dainty shapes carving graceful arcs across the sky. But right now, it’s hard to find any beauty in my life. At this moment, I’d give away everything I have, trade our big country house for a two-bedroom semi on a crowded housing estate, if it meant leaving my marriage.

If it was just Andrew and me, I’d kill him. If I had to spend the rest of my life in prison, so be it. It couldn’t be any worse than living with him.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jo

Back at my desk in the station the next day, I go through everything we have, the knot of unanswered questions growing ever more tangled. Trying to carefully unravel the case, I compile a list of the most credible suspects to discuss with the DI.