I park my car at an untidy angle on my in-laws’ gravel driveway, next to Dom’s Audi, his scratched paintwork a stark reminder of everything that’s happened. As though I need reminding. I get out of the car and run my fingertip along the scarred surface of the scratch, the roughness scraping my flesh. I imagine how Callum’s anger at Dom must have turned to temporary satisfaction as he dug his key into the side of the gleaming vehicle. If Dom tells me that it’s true – that he’s having an affair with our neighbours’ daughter – perhaps I’ll give him a matching pair, and balance out the other side of his car. Or perhaps I’ll do what Callum wishes he’d done and ‘torch the fucker’.

I take a breath and pull my fingers through my curls. This won’t be easy. Before I get to speak to Dom, I’ll have to navigate his parents. I can already picture the disapproving looks, overlaid with distant politeness. But I can’t let their judgement distract me or make me feel guilty for something I haven’t done. I crunch over the gravel and ring the doorbell.

I hear laughter from inside. Footsteps approaching. More laughter. The door opens. It’s Audrey in full make-up, wearing an Emma Bridgwater apron over a knee-length, floral-print dress, her open smile turning to mild shock when she sees me. ‘Ah, Kirstie. We weren’t, uh, expecti— Never mind, come in, dear, come in.’

I step inside their expansive hallway, the smell of roasting meat wafting under my nose, making me fight the urge to retch. It’s thirty degrees out, but heaven forbid Geoff and Dominic don’t get their roast lamb with all the trimmings for Sunday lunch.

‘I’ve come to speak to Dom,’ I say. Male laughter floats out from the back of the house. Nice to hear my husband’s having such a jolly time.

Audrey purses her lips and lowers her voice. ‘I think you should give Dominic some space, dear. It’s all been a bit of a shock – your breakdown, and yesterday’s unfortunate incident. Maybe give him a day or two.’

I bite back my sarcasm. If she knew what her precious son had been up to, she might be a bit less judgemental. ‘I won’t stay long,’ I say. ‘I just need to have a word with him about a few things.’

‘Well, the boys are in the den watching the athletics. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and give me a hand with lunch? Speak to him after.’

‘Where’s Daisy?’ I ask, my whole body yearning to hold her.

‘Ah, the little darling is up in her room having a nap,’ Audrey says.

Her room. Since when does Daisy have her own room here? ‘Which room have you put her in?’ I ask. ‘Dom’s old room?’

‘No, dear. The small front bedroom. It’s perfect for her as it’s cooler than the others – north facing. It’s not good for babies to be too hot.’

I ignore the passive-aggressive advice. ‘Okay, I’ll just nip up and see if she’s all right.’ I make a move towards the sweeping staircase behind us.

‘Like I said…’ Audrey puts a bony hand on my bruised arm, making me wince at the sudden pain. ‘Daisy’s having a nap.’

I would be quite within my rights to kick up a fuss and insist on seeing my daughter, but I don’t want to cause a scene before I’ve even spoken to Dom. It takes all of my willpower to accede. But I do it, letting my shoulders slump as I turn away from the stairs. Right now, more than anything, I need to have this conversation with my husband. ‘Okay, well in that case, I need to speak to Dom. I’m afraid he’ll have to watch the athletics later.’

‘Fine,’ Audrey says, removing her hand from my arm, her eyes widening as she notices the livid bruises and scratches on my skin. She looks like she’s about to say something, but then she clamps her mouth shut before opening it again. ‘Go into the sitting room, dear. I’ll fetch Dominic.’

I step into the vast lounge, an eighties time warp with its dark wooden drinks cabinets, Laura Ashley wallpaper and chintzy sofas. I wish I didn’t have to have this conversation in this house, on his territory, but it’s too late now.

‘Kirstie, what are you doing here?’ Dom comes into the lounge, a puzzled look on his face. Audrey follows him in. ‘We won’t be long, Mum,’ he says. ‘Give us a few minutes?’

‘Of course. Can I get either of you a drink?’

‘We’re fine,’ Dom replies, answering for the two of us.

She leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

Dom glances out of the window. ‘You drove here, Kirst. I told you not to drive. You’re probably still over the limit.’

‘I’m fine. This is the most sober I’ve ever been in my life. How’s Daisy?’

‘Asleep.’ He turns to face me.

‘I know that,’ I say. ‘But how is she? Has she been okay?’

‘A bit grizzly. But yeah, fine.’

She’s probably grizzly because she’s missing her mummy, I think angrily.

‘You look tired,’ he says.

I bring a hand up to my face self-consciously. ‘Yeah, well, it’s been a stressful morning. A stressful week. A stressful bloody month.’ I exhale. ‘I need to ask you something, Dom. And I need you to be completely honest with me.’

‘I’m always honest with you, Kirst.’

I drove over here angry, ready to demand answers. But now I’m here, faced with my husband, I can’t think what to say.

‘Well? What’s this thing you need to ask?’ he prompts.

I stare into my husband’s eyes, terrified to ask the question.

‘Kirstie?’

‘I heard something today,’ I begin. ‘An accusation.’

‘What have you done now?’

‘This is about you, Dom.’

‘Me?’

I swallow and lick my lips. I can’t put this off any longer. ‘Are you sleeping with Hannah Slater?’

‘Who?’ He gives a disbelieving snort and shakes his head. ‘This is a joke, right?’

‘No joke,’ I reply. ‘I wish it was.’

‘First you think I’m sleeping with Mel, then Tamsin, and now someone called Hannah. This is getting ridiculous, Kirstie.’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know who she is. I’m talking about Lorna’s daughter Hannah, who lives next door.’

‘Oh, right. And you actually think I’m sleeping with her?’

‘I found Callum Carson in our house today and he had some interesting things to say about you and Hannah.’

‘That little shit. What do you mean you found him in our house?’ Dom’s face clouds over. ‘Did he break in? Don’t tell me you believed a word that came out of his mouth. I already told you he’s a liar.’

The lounge door opens and Audrey pops her head in. ‘Everything all right in here? I heard raised voices.’

‘We’re fine, Mum,’ Dom snaps, then immediately softens. ‘Can you give us a minute?’

Audrey’s face flushes. ‘Of course.’ She glances from Dom to me and then backs out of the room, closing the door once more.

‘You still haven’t answered me, Dom.’

‘Of course I haven’t answered you,’ he cries. ‘Because it’s a ludicrous question. Am I sleeping with Hannah Parkfield? I mean what am I supposed to—’

‘Slater,’ I correct him. ‘She’s Parkfield’s stepdaughter.’

‘Well, the very fact that I don’t even know her surname should tell you that of course I’m not sleeping with her. I’m not sleeping with anyone – least of all you!’

I nod, flushing. ‘Well, that’s not all my fault,’ I say.

‘Sorry,’ he says, running a hand over his hair. ‘That was uncalled for. But Kirstie, how could you take the word of a teenage boy over your own husband?’

‘I’m not taking his word for it,’ I reply, ‘I’m asking you, aren’t I?’

‘Well I’m telling you, I am not and never have slept with that girl. How old is she anyway?’

‘Just turned sixteen.’

‘Christ, he’s accusing me of sleeping with a child. I’ll bloody kill him.’

‘There’s more,’ I say. ‘You know that “phantom” baby I heard crying?’ I add air quotes to the word phantom.

‘What about it?’ Dom asks.

‘It’s real. It’s Hannah’s baby and she’s saying it’s yours.’

Dom’s face turns white. He staggers two paces and sits heavily in one of the flowery armchairs. I almost feel sorry for him. Or I would if I could truly believe he was innocent. But after the last few weeks, I’m just not sure I do.