The string around her ankles was secured over a couple of tea towels so that no marks would be traceable after I’d gone. I’d remove them later and put them back in the kitchen drawer once I was done. My flimsy gloves were difficult to work with but I’d been practising for such an eventuality. Gloves would leave no trace.

‘You see. I don’t like being made a fool of,’ I began. I sat on the sofa and watched her eyes as I continued. ‘Telling the police that you and that arrogant bastard were a couple, in love, was your big mistake. I mean, look at you. Do you really think you were believed? When I met you, you were such a beauty. You were so self-assured, such fun. We did have fun, didn’t we? Remember we talked about emigrating. We even mentioned Italy once. You showed me photographs of places you’d like to see. Were you intending to go there alone?’

My hatred spurred me on. I wanted to be done.

‘The problem is that once a woman loses her beauty, she loses control. She turns around and all the men who once chased her have gone. No one is chasing anymore.’ I got up and wandered round the room talking to myself rather than to her. ‘Whereas us men, we maintain our looks, our charisma. The world is our oyster.’

She squirmed in the chair while I toyed with the knife.

‘Stop it.’ I moved in closer, breathing hard in her face. When she appeared to gag, I knew it was time.

‘Stop moving. Sit still. This is what we’re going to do.’ I extracted the small knife, ran it across my finger again and before continuing I went to the door and made sure it was locked, the catch down. ‘You are going to commit suicide.’

Her sunken black-ringed eyes expunged wet tears which slid silently down her cheeks. ‘You’re going to pull this small knife across your wrists, like this.’ I laughed and extracted tiny blood splatters on my own wrists. ‘But you’ll need to go deeper. Here have a go,’ I offered. ‘But I should warn you, any funny business, I’ll stick the knife straight through the jugular and it’ll all be over. I always have a plan B. Be assured of that.’

I held my breath, wondering if she might dare to hurl the knife across the room in my direction. The fear of missing her target, I suspected, caused hesitation with such an obvious course of action.

‘Go on. Practise. Remember I’m giving the grieving girlfriend a way out. If you thought you couldn’t live without him, why don’t you prove it?’ I spat.