Right on time, I smooth down my new skirt and open the door to the tapas bar where I’m meeting Scott. A wave of warmth, lights and chatter hits me as I walk inside. This is the second night in a row I’ve been out after work. Not like me at all.

I scan the busy tables, but I don’t see him.

A twenty-something waiter in a black T-shirt and dark jeans comes over to where I’m standing. ‘Would you like a table? There’s a one-hour wait at the moment. Or you can sit at the bar…’

‘I’m meeting someone,’ I say. ‘I think he’s booked a table under the name Markham.’

He glances down at the clipboard in his hand. ‘For 7 p.m.?’

‘Yep.’

‘This way.’ He leads me over to a booth near the back. I catch my breath. Scott is already there, his back to me, a bottle of beer on the table in front of him.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ the waiter asks.

‘Lime and soda, please.’ I’d love a proper drink, but I want to keep a clear head. This evening is too important for me to screw up. I blow out a breath and then inhale. I can do this, I can win back my husband, I know I can. Images of the two of us holding hands. Him leading us back to our house, his floozy forgotten. Us tumbling onto the bed. Laughing. Crying. So happy to be together again, back where we belong.

‘Tess.’ Scott stands up and does a double-take. ‘Wow, you look incredible.’

I try not to show how insanely pleased I am that he’s noticed my makeover.

‘I mean, honestly, Tess. You look so beautiful.’ He leans in to kiss me on the cheek. I kiss him back, savouring the moment, and we sit down facing one another.

‘I haven’t been here for ages,’ I say. ‘Do they still do those garlic mushrooms?’

‘Yeah. And those little spicy potatoes you like.’

‘Yum. Definitely going to have some of those.’ I don’t want to jinx it, but this is already feeling just like old times. The waiter returns with my lime and soda. ‘Actually, could I have a glass of dry white wine as well?’ I suddenly feel like celebrating.

‘Sure,’ the waiter replies, placing my soft drink in front of me.

Scott gives him our food order, already knowing what I want, and the waiter disappears, leaving us alone. Back home, I prepared exactly what I wanted to say. I wasn’t going to mention Harry or the police station, this evening was just going to be about the two of us. But now I’m here, I feel a little shy. I’m not sure how to broach the subject of us.

‘How’s work?’ Scott asks. ‘You coping okay?’

‘It’s good. Actually, my boss offered me a promotion.’

‘That’s brilliant, Tess.’ He smiles. ‘I have to say, I was nervous about meeting up with you tonight,’ he adds.

‘Nervous?’ My heart flip-flops. Has he been anticipating tonight as much as I have?

‘I wasn’t sure what frame of mind you’d be in,’ he explains. ‘But I can see you’ve really turned a corner since Sunday. It’s like you’re back to being the old Tess again. I’m so happy for you.’

My heart swells. The waiter has returned with my wine, and I take a long sip, revelling in the burn at the back of my throat, and the instant head rush.

‘Are you going to take the promotion?’ Scott asks.

‘Not sure yet.’ I pluck an olive from the terracotta bowl in the centre of the table and pop it in my mouth.

‘What does it involve? More money, I hope.’ He grins.

‘Ben wants me to manage Moretti’s while he concentrates on expanding the business. Plus, he’s asked me to consult on his new landscape designs.’

‘That’s incredible,’ Scott says, shaking his head. ‘Surely it’s a no-brainer? You’ve got to do it.’

‘You think so? It’s quite a responsibility. I’m nervous about saying yes in case I cock it up.’

‘You won’t cock it up, you could do that job in your sleep. And anyway, you won’t know until you try. Look, Tessa, you deserve something good after all you’ve been through.’

‘You too,’ I say. ‘You deserve good things too.’

‘Thank you.’ He gives me a smile. ‘Actually, that’s sort of why I asked you to come here tonight.’

I hold my breath, unable to temper my hopefulness. Trying not to grin at him like a love-struck idiot.

‘Ellie told me she spoke to you,’ he continues. ‘She said you rang last night while I was in the shower.’ He shakes his head. ‘I didn’t want you to find out about her like that. I’m sorry. I told her it wasn’t her place to speak to you. I wasn’t at all happy that she shocked you like that.’

So, the floozy’s name is Ellie. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ I say, eager for him to understand that I won’t hold a grudge. ‘It’s okay. I don’t care about what’s gone on in the past, whether you’ve been seeing someone else. We were separated. I was all over the place, not in any state to give our relationship the attention it deserved. We can move on from all that. You honestly don’t have to explain.’

‘You don’t know how good that makes me feel,’ Scott says, leaning back in his seat, his shoulders relaxing. ‘Tell you the truth, I’ve kind of been dreading this evening. Coming here and explaining to you about Ellie, how we feel about one another. I’m really pleased you understand. And I really hope we can be friends.’

‘Friends?’ I repeat, the word lying heavy on my tongue, the shock of realisation creeping through my body. ‘You mean you and me?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Scott confirms it with a puzzled smile. ‘It would be a real shame to go our separate ways after everything we’ve been through. And you’ll love Ellie, I promise you. Probably end up really good mates.’

His voice fades in and out as I try to process what he’s telling me. That Ellie isn’t a fling, she’s something more. I am to be relegated to Scott’s history. An ex. And he wants us to be all cosy and nice about it. He thinks I’m here to give him my blessing, to agree to be friends.

‘You and her?’ I whisper. ‘You’re actually together? And it’s serious?’ I give a disbelieving smile that could easily descend into a sneer.

Scott bites his lip and shifts in his seat. He signals to a passing waitress to get him another bottle of beer. ‘Yes. I thought you realised, I thought you were wishing me well.’

My mouth drops open and my chest clenches with a disappointment so crushing I can barely breathe.

‘I didn’t want to tell you before,’ he says, ‘because I didn’t want to hurt you. But when Ellie answered my phone last night… well, I felt I had to come and explain. And you’re looking so composed and together, I thought you were okay with it.’

I’m too stunned to speak, my mind and body growing numb, like I’ve just been given some kind of paralysis drug.

‘We met over a year ago at my office Christmas party,’ he explains hesitantly. ‘It didn’t start off serious, but… Tessa, I’m sorry, it really is serious now. We’re in love.’

I think he takes my silence as an indication for him to go on. To continue explaining. But really, I just wish he would stop. I wish he would shut up. I don’t want to hear about him and Ellie. About their wonderful relationship and how in love they are. I take a deep gulp of wine, welcoming its ruinous effect on my already screwed-up emotions.

‘I came here hoping we would get back together.’ I manage to speak, but my voice is so quiet that Scott has to lean in closer to hear me. ‘I was going to ask you to give our marriage another go. I still love you, Scott. Don’t you get it?’

But he shakes his head as though he can shake away my words. Words he doesn’t want to hear. ‘There’s something else,’ he says, trying to hold my gaze but ultimately letting it drop, staring instead at his empty beer bottle. ‘Tessa, I’m sorry,’ he continues, his eyes still downcast. ‘Ellie is pregnant.’

I reel back in my seat as though I’ve been stabbed.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeats, looking up at me now. ‘I’m so, so sorry. It wasn’t planned.’

Not by you, maybe. The poisonous thought flashes through my mind. He’s telling me this thing. He’s only sitting a couple of feet away from me, but already he’s moving further and further from the man I know. The man I knew.

‘Are you okay, Tess?’

‘No,’ I say. ‘No, Scott. I’m pretty fucking far from okay, can’t you tell?’

His mouth falls open.

Scott’s face, once so familiar, is like a stranger’s. His generous mouth, strong nose; the light brown eyes that were once so kind. That gazed at me with love and desire. Now their softness is for someone else. Instead he feels… what? Pity? Frustration? I’m an inconvenience, a loose end. I can see it in his eyes – he can’t wait to leave here. To have got this out of the way. Done. Finished. All neatly tied up.

We tried, Scott and I, we tried to have another child. It was something he wanted, but to me it felt like a betrayal. Like I was blotting out our dead children’s memory. Replacing them. Scott said it could help us heal, that we could pour all our love into a new family. Make new memories to staunch the wounds. Anyway, for whatever reason, it never happened, and he didn’t stick around long enough to see it through.

I can’t breathe. Can’t be in this place, which is suddenly so loud and cheerful. Raucous laughter and grinning faces everywhere. And worst of all, Scott’s unwavering pity. I rise to my feet and glance around for the exit, disorientated, losing my bearings for a moment. Scott is having another child. He is in love with someone else. He’s leaving me behind.

I see now that I’m no good any more. It’s laughable that I believed a new haircut and a sexy skirt would win him back. I’m damaged. Useless. This isn’t self-pity, it’s reality. It’s true. How can I blame him? I let out a loud sob, then turn and flee.

‘Tessa, wait! We need to talk about this!’

But I can’t bear to be around him any longer, I need to get out of here. I tug at the throat of my polo neck. It’s suffocating. Hot. Itchy. Images of him and the woman on the phone flood my brain. I don’t know what she looks like, but I bet she’s pretty. Ellie. I already loathe her. For the life she will have. For the life that should have been mine.

I lurch out of the building. Scott won’t follow me until he’s paid the bill, he’s too conscientious like that. Something that makes me so mad right now I could scream. Well, I won’t be here waiting for him to apologise again. I won’t hang around to give him the chance to ease his conscience. I run down the street, eyes scanning the road for a taxi. It only takes me a few seconds to spot an orange light up ahead. I stick out my hand and plead with my eyes. The cab pulls over and I manage to get myself together enough to give him my address. ‘Fourteen, Weybridge Road, N11.’

He nods and I climb into the back seat.

‘Tessa!’ Scott calls out from behind me.

But I don’t turn around. ‘Go! Now, please,’ I beg the driver. ‘He’s coming. I don’t want him to…’

The driver puts his foot on the accelerator and pulls away. I hope he won’t feel the need to talk to me.

‘You okay, love?’ he calls out from the front.

I catch his eye in the rear-view mirror, nod and look away. He doesn’t press me any further.

Scott and Ellie. Ellie and Scott. Scott and Ellie Markham. They’ll get married, won’t they? Of course they will. He’ll divorce me. I’ll have to change my name back. It’ll be like the four of us never existed. Erased from his life. They’ll be married and have a beautiful little family, and everyone will say how lovely it is for Scott. That after everything he’s been through, he’s managed to find a second chance at happiness. And then they’ll whisper: but it’s such a shame about his ex – what was her name? Tessa, yes, that’s it. Such a shame. She still lives on her own, never got over it. You don’t get over these things, do you?

I can’t lose it. Not yet, not here in this stranger’s taxi. I press my fist to my mouth. I must keep it all inside until I get home. Look out of the window. Look at the shopfronts, at the bars and restaurants, at all the happy people. Don’t think. Don’t think about Scott. About Scott and Ellie and their beautiful new baby.

It’s a twenty-minute cab ride. I can’t afford it – especially after that ridiculous waste of money on my hair and new clothes – but there’s no way I could have handled being on the bus with other people, and it would have taken me at least two hours to walk it.

I try to let my mind go blank. To dampen down the crushing disappointment. The sense of betrayal and humiliation. My mind is spinning. I can’t switch it off. The rational part of my brain reminds me that we split up over a year ago. Scott has no duty to look out for me any more. But why keep the news about Ellie from me for so long? All this time, when I was calling him and chatting with him – thinking we were still in it together – all this time and he was already pulling away from me, humouring me. Poor, stupid, annoying Tessa.

‘Nearly there now, love. Weybridge Road, right?’

‘Yes, please,’ I call back, my voice not sounding like my own.

He turns off the main street into my road, and my heart sinks a little further, if that’s even possible. I wish I could run away – I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to face my thoughts alone.

‘What’s all this?’ the cab driver says. He slows down, but we’re still a few houses away from my own.

‘It’s a bit further along.’

‘I know, love. But take a look at that lot. You got One Direction playing in your house tonight? Is Her Majesty paying you a visit?’

I lean forward and stare through the windscreen to see a crowd of people up ahead, spilling out across the pavement and into the road itself. ‘What’s going on?’ I ask.

‘No idea.’

We cruise down the road at a snail’s pace, getting closer and closer to the hold-up. There must be at least thirty people crowded outside my house. As we approach, I start to get a very bad feeling. The throng have turned to stare at the taxi. There are lights in the road. Cameras. Microphones.

‘Journalists,’ my driver says. ‘You haven’t killed anyone, have you?’

‘Shit,’ I mutter.

‘Are they here for you, love?’

We’ve pulled up outside my house now, and the taxi is attracting journalists like iron filings to a magnet. Faces peer through the glass at me, cameras fire off rounds, and I try to shield my tear-streaked face with my bag.

‘Got anywhere else you can go?’ the driver asks. ‘I wouldn’t recommend getting out.’

Muted voices fly at me through the glass.

‘Tessa! Can you tell us about the boy?’

‘Did you abduct him?’

‘Tessa, do you want to tell us your side of the story?’

They must be talking about Harry. But how do they know? Why are they here? There’s nowhere else I can go. Scott’s place is obviously out of the question. Work will be locked up, and anyway, I can’t burden Ben with all of this. My parents passed away years ago, and I have no siblings, no close friends – I pushed them all away after I lost Sam. I can’t show up on any of their doorsteps now with yet more troubles.

‘How much do I owe you?’ I ask the cabbie.

‘Twenty-seven pounds, love.’

I try not to flinch at the expense and hand him a twenty and a ten. ‘Keep the change,’ I say recklessly.

‘Cheers. I don’t think you should go out there, they look like a pack of wolves.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ I say, not believing it.

‘Suit yourself. I’ll wait here, make sure you get through your front door okay.’

‘Thanks.’ I nod, square my shoulders and open the cab door. But I’m not prepared for the sheer force of humanity around me. The noise, the lights… It’s overwhelming, and it’s all I can do to stop my knees buckling. They’re so close I can almost feel their breath on my face as I try desperately to avoid eye contact.

I keep moving straight ahead, and open my gate with shaking hands. Thank God they don’t follow me into my front garden. Instead they bark out their questions and take photos of my back while I rush along the short path to the door.

I should have got my keys out when I was safely in the taxi. Now, I’m having to stand on the doorstep and fumble around in my bag while listening to their staccato shouts and cries from the pavement. After what seems like an eternity, but can only be a few seconds, I pull out my keys, slot the right one into the lock and almost fall into the hall, slamming the door behind me, my heart thumping with fear and confusion.

What the hell just happened?