Not yet. The phrase hung in the air, teasing Dominique with how quickly that situation could change.

She swallowed down the fear blocking her words, and forced herself to continue.

‘I woke Friday night and I was in the hallway and I didn’t know how I’d got there. Last night I had another nightmare.’

She stopped short of confessing to finding a knife on her pillow. She didn’t want to sound completely mad. Exhaustion and worry was playing tricks on her.

‘Okay.’ Fiona’s voice was gentle but probing, persistent. Her solicitor’s hat was on, and Dominique was soothed by her calm approach.

‘Can you remember the dream that led you to sleepwalk?’

Dominique gave an involuntary shudder. ‘Yes, I… Oh, but there’s something that you need to know first, Fiona. A woman came up to me on Friday, after you and I had enjoyed our lunch, and she said that she’s having an affair with Benjamin.’

‘Right. I see. How are you doing? Bloody stupid question. You’re not doing well, clearly. Why didn’t you tell me?’ There was no hint of ‘I told you so’ in her tone.

‘I was too embarrassed, and I needed to try and process it myself.’

‘The thing is though, Dom, you’re clearly not processing it, are you? You’re not dealing with it, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation about you sleepwalking again.’

Dominique rubbed at her forehead and closed her eyes. ‘I know. That’s why I’m calling you now,’ she offered to her friend. And she told Fiona all about the horrible confrontation with Kendra.

‘The stupid thing is, I think I’ve sort of suspected for a while now. But when I was confronted by his mistress, it was still a shock. I’ve spent a long time imagining what my rival might look like, but I wasn’t prepared at all. I was just so shocked by how young she was. She doesn’t even look thirty.’

‘What a cliché. He’s a fool, I’ve always said that. What did she look like, anyway?’

‘Pretty. Dirty blonde. Big boobs and a tiny waist. Your basic nightmare. She’s so different from me – I mean, I’m straight up and down—’

‘Er, you’ve got an amazing figure,’ Fiona interrupted. ‘You’ve had two kids and your stomach’s flat as a pancake. Bitch.’

‘Not enough, though, is it? Maybe I should stop with all the yoga and jogging and dieting, and try to get myself some curves.’

‘Don’t be silly. Anyway, what did you do? Did you slap her one? As your solicitor, I’d advise against it; as your friend, I actively encourage it.’

‘I should have done. Or walk away with some dignity. But I was so shocked I found myself wondering if she’d got the right person. Oh, Fiona, I started asking her questions; I even asked what Benjamin’s date of birth was. I think I was hoping that she’d give the wrong answer and then realise I wasn’t married to her Benjamin Thomas. I’m such an idiot.’

‘I bet she had no idea you felt like an idiot. I bet she thought you were an absolute ice maiden, so super cool. I’ve seen you in action, remember? You always come across as in control, though I know the truth of it. You shut down, don’t you, love?’

‘I do. I wish I didn’t but I do.’

‘Hard shell on the outside, mushy slush on the inside.’

‘Yes, sometimes I think all my strength is pretend. I just wish some of it were real. When I got home I couldn’t even confront Benjamin. I don’t know what to say to him yet. How can I have a go at him when I don’t even know what I want from the conversation? I don’t know whether I want to end it; I don’t know if I want us to try to fix things; I don’t know if I want to bloody kill him for what he’s done. Or if I want to say to him “I still love you”.’

‘And do you still love him?’

‘I don’t know! But it’s Christmas, so I have to pretend for the kids’ sake.’ Dominique groaned, kneading at her temples with the knuckles of her balled hands. Trying to figure out the answer. Talking about things seemed to be making everything worse rather than better.

Fiona gave a small sigh down the phone.

‘All of this stress is causing the sleepwalking now, isn’t it?’

‘You’re right. I should have spoken to you or Benjamin or somebody, or I should have done something. But instead I’ve done my usual thing and just locked it away in a box, hidden it inside me rather than dealing with it. Now it’s triggered my old problem. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to end up in court like before.’

‘So tell me about the dream.’

‘Oh, God, it was horrible. It was the children… oh God, the children.’ Dominique’s voice was a frightened whisper. ‘Someone had broken into the house, and they were coming for my babies. They wanted to hurt them. To tear my family apart. I picked up Benjamin’s gun, ran downstairs, and it was only as I heard the noise and shot blindly into the dark that I woke up, terrified, this horrible sick feeling in my stomach.’

Dom clutched at her belly, the memory bringing the feeling back. ‘My heart was pounding. When I looked at my hands I couldn’t understand where the gun had gone – and then I thought I might be awake, but because I was in the hallway I wasn’t sure.

‘Fiona, I had to really concentrate on everything to convince myself it was real. I think I felt even worse when I realised it was…’ Her voice climbed an octave as she fought tears again.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ Fiona soothed. ‘The thing is, you were safe and so was everyone else.’

‘Yes. Yes.’

‘So that’s good then. And, you know, you’re recognising that you’ve got a problem and now you’re tackling it by talking to me.’

‘Yes,’ said Dominique again, and a horrible knot of tension inside her unclenched the tiniest amount.

‘There you go. It’s good to talk to me. Really, really good. But, as you know, it’s not enough. You need to speak to an expert again. You need to speak to someone who can really help you, because we don’t want a repeat performance of last time, do we?’

‘I know,’ Dominique’s answer was no more than a whisper.

‘I know you know. It just helps to state the obvious sometimes. After all, we lawyers get paid by the hour so it’s an easy habit to fall into. Tomorrow you’ll make that call, won’t you? I know you can’t do anything on a Sunday, but today you’ve taken your first step, and tomorrow you can make the phone call. You still got his number?’

‘Dr Madden? I’ll call him tomorrow, promise. Sorry for phoning you in such a state.’

‘It’s okay. Let’s not let things reach the stage they reached before, though, you know?’

Dominique brought her hand down finally from her face and looked at the silvery scars on her arm. A permanent reminder. ‘No, I definitely don’t want a repeat performance of last time.’

‘Will you be okay now?’

‘Yeah, I feel so much better. Thanks again for listening.’

‘Hey, any time. And I mean that. Any time. Even if it’s in the middle of the night; no matter what, you call me. We’re the two musketeers, remember?’

‘Yeah, all right, d’Artagnan, I’m off. I’ll see you soon.’

‘Love you, mate. Bye.’