‘That could be a while,’ April warned. ‘There’s no guarantee Faith’s going to be granted bail at tomorrow’s hearing. It’s a serious offence.’

‘I was hoping the police would have dropped the charges by now.’

The rhythmic sweep of the roller was interrupted only long enough for Tara to soak up more paint from the tray. It was left to April to keep the conversation flowing.

‘I don’t imagine Faith is the best witness.’

The sound of movement next door slowed a fraction. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘You know what she’s like. Faith might not be a scientist after all, but she has a very logical thought process that puts everything in black or white. There’s no in-between,’ April replied. She squinted at the sluggish trail of grey on the wall before adding, ‘She sifts through information and discounts anything that doesn’t match the judgement she’s reached.’

‘By lying,’ Tara said. It could have been the echo of the room, but her voice sounded hollow.

‘More like being selective with the truth,’ April replied, although they both knew she was being generous. ‘If you’d asked her about Nick a week ago, she would have extolled his virtues and glossed over his faults, but I doubt very much she’ll tell the police anything that puts Nick in a favourable light now. Maybe he deserved it.’ The pause lasted a heartbeat. ‘Do you think he deserved it?’

The rhythm of the roller on the wall speeded up. ‘It’s not for us to decide.’

‘We were quick enough to form our own judgement before he died,’ April said, testing out recurring thoughts to see if they made better sense spoken aloud. ‘I can’t help wondering what might have happened if their relationship had been allowed to run its course. Would there have been a crisis point, or would one or both of them have realised that they were lying to each other and called a truce?’

‘You said Faith wasn’t lying.’

‘You know what I mean,’ April said as paint dribbled onto the skirting board unchecked. ‘I saw him, Tara. Nick didn’t look like a cruel and ruthless criminal. He looked shocked, and scared.’

‘He was dying.’

‘But why did it happen? Did we create the situation?’ April asked. When Tara didn’t respond, she stood to stretch her spine. Dabbing paint onto the wall, she added, ‘I know the danger felt real and it just kept building, but were we the architects of Nick’s downfall? When Faith told me he had this fantasy about having sex with her at knife-point, it was like what happened next was already written.’

‘That was his fantasy?’ Tara asked.