It is the dripping of the kitchen tap that brings me back to the present moment. Nick and I slumped on the kitchen floor as though shedding the lies we’ve been carrying have made us heavier, not lighter. Eventually, it is me who speaks first.

‘You killed Jake. My baby.’ I hiss out my words, my anger catching in my throat

Nick rubs his scar and this causes my fury to erupt.

‘You expect me to feel fucking sorry for you because you cut your fucking head? That accident left Jake dead. It left me infertile.’

‘I am so sorry.’ His useless apology claws at my chest, burrows into my racing heart that feels in danger of bursting from my ribcage, free to skitter across the kitchen floor, where it will sit with us amongst the shards of our marriage.

‘You knew? You knew it was me?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you married me out of guilt? Out of pity? Did you even love me?’

‘Kat, I love you. I do.’ He reaches for my hand but I snatch mine away.

‘It was a lie. It was all a lie.’ My head is swimming as I draw in short, sharp breaths through my nose.

‘No!’

‘How soon did you realise who I was?’

‘As soon as I saw you in the high street. I had never been able to forget your face. I waited until you came out of the temping agency and I went straight in and booked you to work for the charity.’

There is a pressure in my skull. A thousand fingers pressing into my temples.

‘I never expected to fall in love with you, Kat, but I did. I do love you. At first, I just wanted to make amends somehow. Give you a job. Richard had helped me buy that first investment property, and I’d done so well when the market boomed. It didn’t seem right. You needed help too. I wanted to put you back on your feet.’

‘You can never make amends.’

‘I know.’ Nick shuffles backwards until he is leaning against the cupboard under the sink. ‘I’ve lived with what I’ve done every day for the past ten years. But you moving here… It seemed like fate. Written in the stars, almost.’

‘Don’t you say that.’ I lunge at him, beating my fists against his chest. ‘Don’t you ever say that.’ I pummel out my rage until I am spent. Broken. Lying on my back, staring at the spotlights until my vision speckles.

‘Why tell me now?’ My tone is dull, as though I don’t care, but I do. I almost wish I didn’t know – knowing can’t be undone, can it? After tonight things will never be the same again.

‘Him.’ Nick nods, and I groan. I’d almost forgotten about him.

‘Aaron? How do you know?…’

‘That’s not Aaron,’ Nick says with certainty.

Confused, I roll over, scrambling onto my hands and knees, and turn the head of the figure on the floor. Nick is right. This man is older than us, possibly in his fifties. I take him in: his salt-and-pepper beard. It’s the man who has been watching the house.

‘Who is he?’ I ask.

‘My dad.’

I rest back on my heels and, for a moment, all that can be heard is the dripping tap in the silence that stretches under the weight of all my questions.

‘Your dad?’ I struggle to understand. ‘The dad you told me was dead?’ I can’t tear my eyes away from the figure on the floor. This is my father-in-law? The stench of cheap alcohol forces me to turn my head as I press two fingers to his neck. ‘He’s alive, at least. We need to call an ambulance, Nick. No matter what he’s done he’s still your dad. I can’t believe you told me he was dead.’

‘You didn’t tell me the truth about your dad,’ he bites back as he hefts his dad into the recovery position.

I moan softly and fold into myself as though I can hide away from what I have done.

‘I didn’t mean that, Kat. It was an accident. You can’t blame yourself.’

But I can. I should. I do.

‘Let’s wait a bit before we call for help,’ Nick says. ‘He stinks of booze. I’ve seen him in this state many, many times before. He’s bound to come around.’

‘My dad didn’t,’ I say softly.

As the years had passed it had been easy to pretend it wasn’t quite real somehow. That my parents were still living in the same house. That I chose not to see them. Sharing the truth with Nick has turned it into something else. Something worse. I am a murderer. I can’t repeat the same mistake now. I won’t. The questions I have for Nick that are multiplying in my mind at lightning speed will have to wait.

‘We have to call an ambulance. Nick. He may be drunk but he banged his head.’

‘He’s got a beanie on. That would have cushioned the blow.’

‘It didn’t sound like it—’

‘Shh. I need to think,’ Nick says but what he means is, he needs to think of an excuse.

‘There’s nothing to think about—’ I start to rise to my feet but then I remember there is a lot to think about.

Lisa is still trapped in the basement.