‘There’ll be a public outcry if you’re not released soon. All the papers are supporting you.’

Faith had been pleased to hear that. She was already planning to set up a GoFundMe page to procure better legal representation, and public sympathy could only help her cause. ‘What are they saying?’ she had asked. Hope dimmed when she noticed Ella’s reticence. ‘What?’

‘I’m not sure you’d recognise yourself from what they’re saying,’ Ella had replied. ‘They’re making you out to be a poor, defenceless widow who was taken in by a charmer.’

‘But I’m afraid that’s exactly what I am.’

It was better that than being labelled a callous killer, which was what the Crown Prosecution Service might do if her plea of self-defence fell on deaf ears. Innocent people were locked up all the time, sometimes for years, and the fear of that happening was compounded by the darkness that wrapped around Faith as she lay in bed. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. Why couldn’t Nick have been who he said he was?

When she had woken up on Valentine’s morning, he had told her that he loved her. She had believed it to be true. They could have had a future together, but he had lied about everything. Nick should be the one in a prison cell right now, not Faith. It wasn’t her fault. Her conscience was clear, and if she had to prove her innocence in a court of law, she would.

Faith had told the police exactly what she had told April, except in a lot more detail and more than once. She had returned home to find Nick with his back to her as he prepared lunch. The kitchen was a mess and there was something bubbling on the stove – probably homemade carrot and coriander soup, because it was her favourite. She had no idea what was in the oven, but it had smelled mouth-watering. Nick had turned to greet her, but his smile had left her cold. He had fooled her for the last time.

Her clearest recollection was feelings of crushing humiliation and burning anger. She had seen the knife on the chopping board, but it had never crossed her mind, even fleetingly, that Nick would use it against her. She would prefer to block out what came next, but the police had pushed her for answers.

Explaining her financial predicament to the detectives had been particularly unpleasant, but necessary. They would be scrutinising her bank statements anyway, if only to confirm that she had been forced to transfer money into Nick’s account whilst April and Molly waited outside. The few hundred pounds that Faith could ill afford wasn’t what Nick was expecting. She would never forget the look of confusion on his face when she had shown him her account balance on her iPad.