My mind wanders during sex, though I’m blasted back into reality when I hear him shouting at me to show some goddamn enthusiasm and stop being such a frigid bitch. I learn too to fake enthusiasm: I start hearing myself as though from a million miles away. It pleases him and he starts to treat me more kindly. Perhaps everything is OK, I tell myself. Perhaps I can do this. It isn’t so hard. I’ve found a way to manage. I just have to pretend. Pretend to the world and even myself. And always, always smile.

The only time I can’t pretend is at night when the dreams come. In all of them, I’m trapped in some dark dungeon-like place and I’m being chased. I’m terrified, but no matter how hard I try to find a way out, I can’t escape. I wake up screaming and Liam is getting more and more frustrated, telling me I’m ruining his sleep and demanding to know what I’m dreaming about.

To stop myself from annoying him any further, I force myself to stay awake. It isn’t hard. I drink a lot of tea, and my palpitating heart and taut nerves help too. Liam doesn’t even go out to walk Isis; instead he lets her out into the back garden to do her business. He orders groceries online using my credit card, and sometimes he orders a takeaway for one. He still controls my phone and I daren’t ask about returning to work. I daren’t ask anything at all. I wonder if we’ll continue like this forever, living imprisoned in this house, never leaving, but I know not to ask.

The only time I let a tear slip out, Liam notices at once.

‘Why are you crying?’ he snaps.

I bite my lips shut and blink away the remaining tears.

‘Do you miss your mum?’ he sneers.

I don’t answer.

‘She was just your mother. I’m your partner. I’m your soulmate. I’m all you need.’

I nod.

Work calls to ask when I’m going to be back. It’s been two weeks. Liam can’t make any more excuses, and my bruises are mostly faded, so he makes me call them back and tell them that I’m quitting.

*

Liam returns to ‘work’. I don’t know where he goes. I don’t care. He knows that I won’t leave, so he doesn’t need to stay. The security cameras will tell him if I leave the house, and I assume he has installed a tracker on my phone, so I don’t use it or make calls. He takes my laptop with him so I can’t do anything online.