I lied to my mother, to my friends and to the world, at first because I was ashamed and then later because it was the only way to survive. And finally, because it was the only way to escape. I have gritted my teeth and smiled until my face ached, because I knew it would be worth it to one day be free of him.

It was easy in the end, a simple matter to convince Liam that I’d love a holiday, that I think it might help me to heal; and what place more romantic than Scotland? He agreed eagerly, thinking it was a sign that I was moving out of my depression and finally starting to be happy again. And in fact, I was starting to become happier. Now I had a purpose and I could see a faint chink of light on the horizon, my spirits did lift. Hope was a tiny flicker at first, it didn’t dare to flame bright, and I feared that any moment it might be snuffed out. Now though, as I look down on him, caught in the trap, bleeding out, the hope burns as brightly as the lightning still scoring the island.

I couldn’t have done it alone, of course. It’s Mia who made it happen, who devised the plan and carried most of it out. She’d been plotting for six months before she even met me. After she made her way to Scotland she went to a hospital and had her broken arm fixed, then she found a grotty place to rent with cash and no questions asked.

Afterwards, she used her remaining money to hire a private detective to find Liam. Her plan was to lure him somewhere private where she could kill him. She even bought a gun for the purpose. But then, after the private detective found him, following Mia’s lead that he might have turned up at a vet’s with a wounded dog on or around Boxing Day, and she learned that he was already involved with another woman – me – she knew she’d need to change her plans. That was when she first approached me, appearing in the garden that day and scaring the life out of me before offering me a way out of my nightmare.

The only part of the strategy that we couldn’t work out was where to carry out the revenge. It was solved when I first read my mum’s will. There was a life insurance policy and I was the beneficiary. I was to receive three hundred thousand pounds. I knew it was my mum’s way of looking out for me when she was gone, and I also knew that there was no better use for the money.