“I don’t know,” I said. I looked down at the flat brown circle of my coffee cup. “It’s a mystery. He was obviously able to detach himself from what he was doing. That’s what Margaret said. He could compartmentalise it all. Perhaps it started off as a game. You know, what would happen if Maudie died? He must have realised it was a possibility, more of a possibility that it would have been for any–” I hesitated, “-any normal young woman. He knew my history, he knew about my past. He knew about my mother and what happened to her. Perhaps he didn’t even have to suggest it to himself, perhaps he honestly thought it would happen. Perhaps–” I hesitated again. “Perhaps it was his way of controlling the situation. You know, pre-empting what he thought was going to happen anyway.”

“Oh, come on,” said Becca. “Please don’t give him that much credit. If he really thought that, why go to all those lengths? Why have an accomplice? He was trying to drive you mad.”

I hung my head. “I know,” I muttered. “I know he’s a bastard. Was a bastard. But seriously, Becca, I was so awful to live with, at the end. I mean, I was awful. It probably made it a lot easier for him.”

Our eyes met again. I wondered if she was remembering the scene in my flat, when she’d told me she was pregnant, and I’d overreacted. I was the first to look away.

“Maudie,” she said, patiently. “Your so-called husband was trying to convince you that you were insane. There’s nothing that you could have done, no way you could have behaved, that would excuse that.”

“Yes–”

“Yes, really. Stop blaming yourself. Haven’t you done enough of that for one lifetime?”

“Yes, I know–”

Becca arched her back, relaxed again and sighed. “You really had a bad deal with the two men in your life, didn’t you?” she said.

I looked out of the window at the countryside speeding past us. I could feel my chest tightening, as it always did when I thought about Angus. I tried to breathe deeply, but unobtrusively, as Margaret had taught me. Thinking of her prompted me to speak.

“Margaret said that could be why I ended up with Matt in the first place. You know, why I felt safe with him.” I found myself smiling, rather grimly. “Safe, I know. Stupid, isn’t it? But she said you’re often attracted to people who act in ways you recognise. Or you recognise patterns in their behaviour, without even realising you’re doing it.”

“Two sociopaths in the family,” said Becca. “How convenient for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “It sounds a bit trite, I know. Matt wasn’t a sociopath, anyway. He was just a weak, greedy man who wanted more than he had. And I’m not sure you can call An – my father a sociopath, either.”

“No?”

“No.” I looked out the window again. “I don’t know what he was.”

“Well, I know what Matt was.”

“What?”

“A complete and utter bastard.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “True. He certainly had a massive sense of entitlement.”

“And don’t even get me started on her.”

I pleated a fold of my napkin between my fingers. “She saved my life,” I said.

Becca sniffed. “Yeah, after trying to drive you crazy.”

“She changed her mind, though,” I said. “I think she realised she couldn’t do it. I think she came to warn me.”

Our food arrived at the moment and we both fell silent as the plates were placed into front of us.

“Can I get you ladies a drink?” asked the guard.

I fought the usual internal battle. One day at a time, Margaret had said. Just take it one day at a time. Only she knew how bad my drinking had been. Only she and Becca knew about Angus, and what had really happened that night in Cornwall. I hadn’t told the police. I couldn’t have coped with the resulting investigation and the media attention. And there was Aunt Effie to think of. Or that was what I’d told myself.

“Just water for me, thanks,” I said.

“Same here,” said Becca.

I pushed at the mass of scrambled eggs on my plate. I wasn’t hungry. “I wonder if anything she told me was true?”

“I doubt it.”

“I don’t know. She was so convincing. Surely no one’s that good an actress? And it would explain a lot... if she’d had that sort of a life.”

Becca rolled her eyes. “Perhaps that’s how Matt met her.”

I put my fork down. “Perhaps.”

“Ugh.”

“Well, yes. I wonder what he told her, about me.”

“God knows,” said Becca. “It must have been convincing.”

I sighed.              “I was so stupid,” I said. “That’s what hurts most of all.”

“Come on. You weren’t to blame. You’re supposed to be able to trust your husband. That’s supposed to be part of the deal.”

“I wanted to believe it,” I said. “That was the clincher. I wanted it all to be true.”

“Well, of course you did,” said Becca. “Of course you did. That’s natural.”

I fell silent. Becca regarded me with sympathy. “Maudie, he had us all fooled. But don’t worry. It’s not like you could have spotted what he was doing, could you? Not really.”

I stared down at my half-full plate. “No.”

“Your defence will bring that up, won’t they? I mean, that is the defence, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said, slowly. We hadn’t yet talked about this and I wasn’t sure what to say.

Becca gave me a quick, penetrating glance. “You don’t sound too sure.”

“Well,” I said. I consciously made myself relax my hands. “The trouble is that the prosecutors–”

There was a moment’s silence.

“Yes?” Becca prompted.

I took a deep breath. “The prosecution’s case is that there wasn’t anyone else there. It was just me and Matt.”

Becca blinked. “What do you mean?”

I could feel my fingers tightening again and I took hold of my legs under the table.

“There wasn’t anyone called Jessica there as well. They’re saying she didn’t exist. It was just me and Matt. Just a common or garden domestic that went wrong.”

Becca was quiet for a moment. Then she laughed a little uncertainly. “That’s crazy,” she said. “There’s evidence–”

“There isn’t,” I said, interrupting her. “Or not much. A blonde girl on the CCTV, once or twice.”

“Well, that’s–”

“They’re saying it’s me,” I said, flatly. “It’s me on the CCTV. That’s their angle.”

Becca chewed her lip for a moment. I could see her flicking through the possibilities in her head, just as I had, and felt a rush of affection for her, even despite my anxiety.

“He knocked out her tooth,” she said. “Didn’t he?”

I felt the corners of my mouth pull in, in what was almost a smile.

“The police couldn’t find it.”

Becca was quiet for a moment. Then she sat up a little and smiled. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said, trying for briskness. “You and I, and your lawyer, know the truth, don’t we? We know she was there, don’t we? She was there, wasn’t she, Maudie?” When I didn’t answer immediately, she asked again. “Wasn’t she, Maudie?”

“Of course she was,” I said. I cleared my throat and said it in a firmer voice. “Of course she was there.”

“Right then,” said Becca. I saw her bite her lip again as she looked out of the window. Then she faced me, and smiled again. “I know it’s hard, but try not to worry too much. I’m sure it’ll all work out fine in the end.”

I tried to smile back. “I know. Thanks, Becs.”

The train rattled on. Beneath the table, my palms were marked with eight little reddened half smiles.

The sun was shining when the train drew into Penzance, although a strong breeze buffeted us as we stepped out onto the concourse. The harbour was a mass of yachts, boats, dinghies and fishing trawlers, all bobbing on an azure sea. I took a deep breath, throwing my head back against the dazzle of the sunlight.

We picked up the keys for our hire car and found it in the car park. I slotted myself behind the steering wheel. I drove carefully, tensely, looking out at the little stone cottages, the holidaymakers eating ice-cream, the far-off white peaks of the waves out in the bay. So familiar, yet so alien. I was glad Becca was there. I looked across at her and smiled when I saw she’d fallen asleep, her head lolling against the tatty fabric of the car seat, her mouth inelegantly agape. I looked back out of the window, and at the distant countryside beyond the houses and roads of the town.