‘Then do that. And no, it won’t seem strange at all – not if I tell them you’re ill. No one else apart from Nick has any inkling of what happened back then, so it’s not going to look suspicious. Go back to bed if you like. I’ll order room service and stay with you, okay?’ He sits and puts an arm around me. Pulls me close to him and I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

‘Thank you,’ I murmur. ‘I’m not hungry. But you order some breakfast for yourself.’

‘You sure you don’t want anything? Some toast? Orange juice?’

I shake my head, feeling close to tears again. ‘No thanks. I’m just going to have another sleep, so why don’t you go down on your own. Make excuses for me.’

‘I don’t like to leave you up here alone. Not while you’re so upset.’ He rubs my back soothingly.

‘I’ll be fine. I just need some time on my own to try to get my head around it. Go. I’ll feel better knowing you’re putting everyone’s mind at rest. Especially my dad’s.’

‘Okay.’ Toby stands. ‘If you’re sure.’

‘I am.’

My husband kisses me on the lips and gives my hand a squeeze. I manage a small, unconvincing smile before he picks up his phone and the door key and leaves the room.

Twenty-Eight

NOW

After Toby leaves me to go down to breakfast, my brain continues its frenzied pinwheeling from one panicked thought to another. I realise that I forgot to tell Toby to come up with another excuse for later, because we’re all due to have lunch together and then go to the spa this afternoon. And I can say with absolute certainty that I won’t be doing that. I should text him to tell him to let everyone know that I’m not up for doing anything today. But I don’t have the energy even for that.

I wobble to my feet and walk over to the window, staring out at the snowy landscape. A Range Rover disappears down the driveway, which is miraculously clear of snow. They must have gritted the drive last night. I blink and try to marshal my thoughts, but they won’t stop skipping around. The skin on my face feels dry and taut, my eyes scratchy, my throat constricted. I don’t know how I managed to get any sleep last night. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again. Not with the knowledge of what I’ve done.

I cast my mind back. My brain starts speeding, flipping through everything that happened on my wedding day. How can my mind have locked the truth away from me for so long? Why am I only just now beginning to remember?