Back in the present, he tells me that I need to make the police go away. He grabs me by the shoulders and whispers. I feel his breath on me and I recoil. He throws me backwards until I collide with the dresser. Something cuts my hand. I feel the sharpness followed by the familiar feeling of blood leaving my body. I fall to the ground and look at my hand. I remember that night again, another fragment of information to build on. I’m in the back of a van, Simon is lying next to me and I can’t wake him. It’s dark and I am afraid.

I am pulled back into the present by shouting. DS Miles is swinging for R and a silent cheer erupts in my mind as his fist connects with R’s jaw. The glee is short-lived, as R punches DS Miles back and then gets hold of the detective by the hair before smashing his head against the counter. DS Grey is tending to me and I find myself more worried that R is really going to hurt DS Miles.

More police officers turn up and break things up. I enjoy seeing R being pulled to the ground and cuffed like the criminal he is, but he is still smiling through it all. He knows he will get away with it. He always does. He knows I will say what he wants me to say, like I always have done. The few times I have spoken out against him, someone other than me has got really hurt and I can’t stand feeling responsible for that.

They cart him off in a police car and DS Grey makes the usual assurances to me about how they will get him. I smile and nod, because it’s futile explaining to them how smart he is – they won’t understand. How could they? They don’t know him like I do. No one does.

I watch her speaking to her partner and I realise there is more going on there than just a working relationship. It explains why I feel her bristling whenever we speak – she can see me pulling her partner in. It’s not my fault; I don’t want to. God knows I’ve told them to leave me alone enough times.

I give a statement of events, not entirely correct. I maintain the police have the wrong end of the stick and that I fell into the cabinet. No one believes me, least of all myself. Before long I am alone in the house. I start to clear away the broken glass and crockery, restoring the house to look as though nothing has happened, ready for when R is released tomorrow and comes home. I am grateful for the respite, though.

Chapter Forty-One