‘Think, Susan. Who could have helped Mags? It had to be someone who could get money for her . . . She has wealthy friends, but how would she contact them? Wait a minute. Michael told me that she had a visitor. Now what did he say his name was?’

Harold paced up and down. Susan’s body ached, and the shivering was more intense now. ‘Harold, please help me out, the water’s getting cold.’

He turned and looked at her as if he hadn’t known she was there. He stared at her for what seemed like a long minute.

‘Harold? Harold, I need to get out of this water.’ His strange expression was giving her the creeps. ‘HAROLD!’

He jumped. Then, as if nothing had happened, he said, ‘My poor darling, you’re hurt. Let me help you.’ Taking her hand, he tugged at her.

‘I need more help than that, Harold. You need to lift me out, as you lifted me in.’

His sleeves were still rolled up, and his shirt was soaked from washing her. Unbuttoning it, he discarded his shirt and tossed it on the floor. She looked at his firm naked chest and felt nothing. He scooped her up, taking her to the bed and laying her down, and it was then that his tears flowed once more, as he looked at her.

As she went to pull the quilt around her, he stopped her. His eyes had glazed over. She knew that look, and repulsion flooded through her. But she didn’t object, as she felt too afraid to. She had long learned to be compliant to his needs.

‘I want to make you better, my darling. I want to love you better. I want you to love me again.’

It was agony to take his weight, and she felt nothing when he entered her – nothing except a searing pain from the many bruises covering her, and from where her skin had split under the force of his blows. Harold was like a man possessed. On and on he pounded her, taking no heed of her cries to stop.

At last he was spent, and yet he hadn’t reached his climax. He slumped off her, sobbing even more than he had before. ‘Why couldn’t I do it? Why couldn’t I finish?’ Then his voice changed and became ugly. ‘It was your fault! You just lay there like she does. Why? Why?’

‘Look at me, Harold. Really look at me. My nose feels as though it is smashed, my lips feel swollen to twice their size, and my body is bruised and broken. How can you expect me to respond to you when you have done this to me?’

‘Shut up! You have to take responsibility. You goaded me. You wouldn’t shut up, and I warned you. Well, I’m warning you again. SHUT UP!’

A whimper escaped her. ‘Help me, Harold. Please help me. I’m cold and I cannot move.’

‘I have to go out.’

With this, he folded the bed quilt over her and went into the bathroom. When he came out, Susan tried once again to reason with him, asking for a glass of water, but he ignored her and left.