The shock was beginning to hit me now. I didn’t understand, not everything, but my body knew. I could feel prickles of sweat breaking out all over my face, as if I was about to be sick.

Matt turned to face Jessica, the woman who said she was Jessica. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I told you never to come here.”

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” said Jessica. She walked a little further into the room. She pulled off her gloves as she did so. Finally, she swung her gaze towards my face, looking at me with a frown.

“Put those back on for a start,” said Matt. “You had no right to come here. I told you I’d handle it.”

Jessica – I had to call her that, what else could I call her? – stood in the middle of the room. She hadn’t taken her eyes from my face; she hadn’t looked at Matt once since he spoke. She kept frowning.

“I was worried,” she said.

“Worried?” said Matt. “I told you I’d contact you afterwards. Get out of here, you’ll fuck the whole thing up.”

Jessica didn’t reply. She brought her arms up across her body, as if she were cold. I felt the same. I was shivering so hard my body was making the sofa vibrate.

She looked at me, properly at me. Our eyes met. Her hand went up to her throat and I saw she was wearing the necklace I’d bought her.

I tried to speak but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and started again. “What thing?” I said in a thin voice.

Matt sighed sharply through his nose, his characteristic expression of annoyance. He was looking at me with such contempt that I flinched every time I met his eyes. The face belonged to a person I didn’t recognise at all.

“What – what’s going on?” I could feel my voice wobbling, as if someone had me by the shoulders and was shaking hard. Jessica took a step to the side, moving out of Matt’s shadow which fell across her like a black cloak. I could see her more clearly now. She was still holding onto the necklace.

“Stop trying to work it out, Maudie,” said Matt. Every time he said my name, his face contracted as if he were tasting something bad. “Your mind’s so fucked you don’t know what’s real and what’s not, you never have. Stop trying to make sense of it because you’re incapable of making sense of anything.”

“What?” I said.

“What? What? Is that all you can say?” said Matt. His whole face was twisted. The light was behind him but I could see the hate beaming out of him despite the shadow. Momentarily I was reminded of something; the dark figures that had stalked me through the bad time; that was the last time I’d been the target of such concentrated malice.

“You are so pathetic,” he said. “Do you even realise how pathetic you are? You do nothing, you know nothing, you’re so vapid I’m surprised you don’t disappear altogether. And you know what? I think you know how useless you are. I think you realise what a shallow, self-obsessed, neurotic, whining parasite you actually are. Why else do you drink so much?”

He paused for breath. I heard myself say something in a tiny, child’s voice that even I could barely hear.

“You thought I loved you?” he said. He started to laugh and then stopped abruptly. “Of course not, don’t be ridiculous. You’re not capable of being loved.”

I think we’d both forgotten Jessica. She took another step forward, further into the light. She was looking at Matt with an odd expression on her face.

“You know what I think?” he said. “I mean, what I really think – I’m not just saying this to hurt you, although Christ knows you deserve it. I think you killed Jessica. I don’t know why and I don’t know why you can’t remember it, but that’s what I think. That’s what you’ve not been facing for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not true!” I said, horrified. “That’s a lie.”

“Is it?” said Matt, sneering. “Well, you’d know all about that. You’re the liar, Maudie. You lie all the time, you lie and lie and lie. Do you even know you’re doing it? How can anyone trust anything that comes out of your mouth? You’re not even that good at it, did you realise? Do you really think I had no idea about your drinking? You’re so thick you judge everyone by your own pathetic standards. It’s a fucking insult. All this guff you’ve made up about your father, Christ, a child could see through it. I don’t know why you bothered.” He laughed at my expression. “It’s been like living with a child, a particularly moronic child. I’ve earned that fucking money, that’s for sure. I’ve fucking earned it ten times over.”

Something was rising up inside me. I gripped my legs, trying to control the shaking of my hands. The second he’d uttered the word ‘money’ I knew the truth – it was heading up within me, grabbing me in the throat, sending my blood thundering. My skin prickled with the knowledge. I looked at Jessica and said her name. She didn’t answer. I said it again.

“Jessica.”

Slowly, her eyes went from Matt’s face to mine.

“What’s your real name?” I said. “Because you’re not Jessica, are you?”

Her face twitched. “I can’t tell you that,” she said.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

I hadn’t taken my eyes from her face. “Why did you come here?” I whispered.

She looked at me, her hand still up to her throat. I thought for a second she wasn’t going to answer.

“I was worried,” she said, again.

"You were worried?" said Matt, and the sound of his voice made us both start. "You? You, with your well-tuned moral sense? What a fine upstanding person you are! You must be really proud of yourself!"

She looked at him. I saw comprehension dawning slowly on her face; she looked dazzled, as if she'd just woken from a not particularly pleasant dream. She looked at him the way I was looking at him; as a person never seen before. She didn't bother to reply.

"Tell me," I said, to her alone.

"Don't tell her," said Matt.

She looked at him with what looked like irritation. “It hardly matters now,” she said. “Does it?”

"Just shut up, would you?" said Matt. He was sweating; I could see his top lip shining even in the dim light.

I looked back at Jessica. “What’s your real name?” I said. “What are you really called?”

She just shook her head.

"I'm not mad," I said, trying out the sound of the words. Then I said it to Matt. "I'm not mad. You tried to make me think I was."

"No I didn't," said Matt, "You know you are. You’re not normal. You just don't want to admit it." He bent down and picked up the brandy glass and held it out to me. "Go on, drink this down. You'll feel much better about things afterwards. You know you always do, when you drink."

It would be the easiest thing in the world to capitulate. To give in. To keep the peace. My hand moved forward and then something stopped it; I could feel something snapping shut, like a trap within me.

I looked him in the eye. “I don’t think I will.”

My blood was up and humming. I was darting little glances at the open door to the hallway. What was the chance that I’d be able to get past him and out the door? I thought for a moment of shouting for help but it was an old building; the walls were thick, the ceilings high. No one would hear me.

              I thought faster than I’d ever had in my life. I was in danger here. I looked at my husband. He looked like Matt, he sounded exactly like Matt, but he’d been body snatched. He’d been possessed by someone I didn’t know at all.

“Why–” my voice cracked for a second. I tried again. “Why did you do this?”

Matt rolled his eyes.

“Was it just for the money?” I said. I had that horrible, sweaty feeling you get when you’re about to vomit. I swallowed hard. “Was that all it was about? How could you – how could you be so cruel?”

He didn’t answer.

“You were trying to drive me mad,” I said. The full meaning of the words hit me for a second and I almost gagged. “Were you going to have me locked away? Was that the plan? You wanted the money for yourself, all of it? You couldn’t bear to share it with me?”