“Essentially, I was paying for peace of mind,” she said. “I didn’t want to have to start worrying again. I’d have called off my dogs eventually, I promise. In my defense . . . once she moved to Spilling, Nicki’s drive to her children’s school took her past Damon’s front door twice a day. I wasn’t only worried that they were getting it on behind my back; I was also afraid she might firebomb his house or something. That level of obsession?” Paula made an exaggerated Oh, help face. “Anything can happen, can’t it?”

“So you and Damon were enemies in public, lovers in private?”

“Yes. Before we met, we were genuine enemies, but when we clapped eyes on each other in the flesh . . .” She giggled. “Well, that rather put paid to all the hate. It wasn’t long before we were making love not war.”

“And that’s the truth that would devastate Hannah Blundy?” Simon asked, making no attempt to hide his skepticism.

“Yes,” said Paula.

“There’s nothing else?”

“What else could there be?”

“You and Damon carried on attacking each other in public. Why? As a smokescreen?”

“Yes, a brilliant one that fooled the world.” Paula laughed. “I slipped up only once—I tweeted something to him thinking it was a private message, but it was public.”

“‘I was lost, I was scared, but a Tory led me home again’?” Simon quoted.

For a second, Paula’s smile slipped. Her eyes shone, and she blinked hard a few times. Then she pulled her face back into the right order.

“That’s right,” she said. “It’s a line from—”

“I know what it is. Damon replied, didn’t he? Did he also believe it was a private exchange, or didn’t he care? I think you were the one who insisted on the secrecy, the one who came up with the plan that would devastate Hannah if I told her about it.”

Paula said nothing.

“When you deleted your incriminating tweets, Damon followed suit and deleted his, but he wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t. He wanted to marry you, didn’t he? When the two of you first met in October 2011—here, in this room—you and Richard Crumlish were on the verge of officially separating. Damon was single. There was nothing to stop the two of you getting together—openly, not illicitly. Damon wanted to. You didn’t.”

“Carry on,” said Paula. “I’m enjoying this shaggy dog story.”