A week before the trial, I get home late. I’d spent a couple of hours at Michelle’s house, hanging out with her and Jessie. Yes, over these past few months their sex affair has transformed into something of a permanent thing. I’m not sure if either of them ever broached the subject of having a relationship, but that’s what seems to have happened.

They’re happy together, and I couldn’t be any more surprised by it all. I just hope the day never comes when Michelle decides she wants to go back to men.

It’s dark out on a cold January night as I try to locate my house key in my handbag. I’m rooting away when a gloved hand slides roughly over my mouth and a strong body presses me hard against the door.

I feel something sharp dig into my belly, just before a male voice threatens, “Scream, and I’ll cut you.”

My heart pounds fast, sweat breaking out all over my body.

I don’t scream. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m in too much shock to react at all.

The hand covering my mouth goes to my hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling down hard. A strangled whimper comes out of me, but it’s barely audible. In my head, I wonder if this is the man from the park finally come to make good on his threat.

“You’re gonna give Jay Fields a message,” the voice continues, the very sound of it grating on me.

All I can do is nod.

“You tell him that if he shows up at court next week, we’ll come for you again, and the next time we’ll leave a mark.”

“We”? Is there someone else with this faceless person? I nod again, and the pressure is gone. I stand in place for several seconds, unable to turn around, but I think I can hear the click of high heels alongside the boots as they walk away. A car engine starts up somewhere nearby, and my body finally kicks into action. I turn and swiftly run out of the driveway just in time to see a black vehicle speed by. The windows aren’t tinted, and I’m not sure if my eyes are deceiving me when I see Una Harris staring at me from the passenger seat, a sick grin on her face.

What the hell?

It wasn’t the man from the park at all. My hands are shaky as I try to find my phone. I take it out and quickly pull up Jay’s number.

“Watson,” he answers, his voice warm.

“I need you,” I say, and there’s no mistaking my fear.

“You at home?” he asks, serious now.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

I try to be quiet as I step inside, knowing Dad’s asleep upstairs. I’ve just been through one of the most frightening experiences of my life, second only to when Mum was killed, but there was barely a sound made. It all happened so quickly, without much needing to be said at all, and I can still feel the knife the faceless man had pressed into my belly.

There’s certainly much more to Una Harris than meets the eye, because the woman I saw just now was definitely no stranger to seeing people scared out of their wits, to threatening them to get what she wants.

On unsteady legs, I close the front door and walk into the kitchen, turning on the light and sitting down at the table. I don’t know how much time passes when the door opens again, and Jay strides in with purpose. He sees me sitting there, white as a ghost, and instantly he’s kneeling before me, taking my hands in his.

“Watson, what happened?” he asks, looking like he wants to hurt someone.

“I…somebody attacked me as I was coming home. They had a knife.”

His eyes go darker than I’ve ever seen them before, his grip tightening. “What? Are you hurt? Did you get a look at their face?” His hands start to move over my body, looking for injuries that aren’t there.

Una Harris’ sadistic grin flashes in my mind, and my heart pounds. I’m just about to tell Jay about how the man threatened to hurt me if he shows up in court next week. But I look into his eyes and suddenly realise that I can’t do it. I can’t tell him. If I do, then all these months working toward the trial will be for nothing. He won’t be able to clear his name and might never be able to get his career back on track.

I won’t do it.

Somehow knowing that Una Harris would go to the lengths of getting some thug to threaten me with bodily harm makes me more determined to see her get what she deserves.

“They didn’t hurt me. I think they were just trying to scare me.” I pause, thinking on my feet. “They tried to grab my handbag, but then a neighbour’s car drove by, and they ran. I’m okay now.” Lying to him feels awful, but, as Jay once told me, necessary evils are everywhere in this world.

He pulls me into his embrace. “Jesus. You shouldn’t be coming home this late on your own. Next time, you make sure someone is with you. Or hell, call me, and I’ll escort you home personally.”

He’s too flustered to read me, which is a good thing, because if he did, he’d see I was lying through my teeth. Something in my chest clenches at the fact that me being in danger has made him this way. He’s just always so on. I’ve rarely seen anything escape him. Until now.

“Yes, I will. I just didn’t think.”

He hugs me tight. “Don’t let it happen again. I’ll kill someone if anything ever happened to you. You’re the only one keeping me grounded.”

His words slide over me, like a warm caress, while I try to push down the guilt of being dishonest with him. We stay like that for a long time before Jay helps me up to my room. He says he’ll sleep on the couch for the night, just in case the thug decides to come back.

The next morning when Dad finds him there, Jay tells him everything that went down. Dad insists that we call the Gards. I don’t want to involve the police, because then I’ll have to lie again, but there’s no getting out of it.

Luckily, over our months spending time together, I’ve been delving into Jay’s book collection. Most recently I read one about body language, so I know enough about lying to pull it off when the officers arrive at the house.

Still, I can’t stop stressing about the threat. They said if Jay goes to court, they’ll hurt me. My mind tracks back to the day of the mediation, when Jay and I had been laughing together on the street. Both Una and Brian had been watching us, and they must have seen something. Something that indicated Jay cares for me. Otherwise, they wouldn’t bother to threaten me. I’m just the legal secretary, after all.

Over the course of the next few days, I make a fine collection of weapons to protect myself with, including a rape alarm, pepper spray (totally illegal in Ireland), and a Swiss army knife. I also spend time practicing self-defence videos on YouTube. Don’t laugh. If Una Harris and her thug come for me again, I’ll be ready. The most important thing, I remind myself, is never to be alone.

They won’t attack me if I’m with someone. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

Unfortunately, all the stressing out and anxiety takes its toll, and the day before Jay’s court date, I fall ill with the worst flu of my life. And I’m not talking about one of those bad colds that people call a flu. I’m talking about a real flu. The kind that makes every muscle and bone in your body ache, the kind where you’re barely lucid enough to remember your own name, and when people try to talk to you, you’re replying with nothing but fevered gibberish.

Dad organises for a temp to fill in for me, because obviously I’m not going to be of any help in court in my current state. I don’t mind too much, though. Court is usually hours of tedium followed by a few minutes of something interesting. Jay doesn’t hear about my illness until the morning of the trial. I’m lying in bed, wrapped up in blankets and wearing my cosiest pyjamas, when the front door opens and shuts.

Dad left the house about an hour ago, so there’s only one person it could be. Jay’s footsteps sound on the staircase as he makes his way to my room. He knocks on the door first.