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Olivia heard the key in the lock at 12.59p.m. Logan always liked his lunch at dead on one. He never wanted anything fancy. Just a snack; one of his childhood favourites. It made him happy when she got it right.

‘Ahh, cheese-and-bean toastie, thanks, Mom,’ he said, grabbing the plate as if this was all perfectly normal, as if she had fixed the meal willingly, lovingly. As if she wasn’t trembling with fear that she had got something wrong or that she’d done something to displease him, or that within an hour she’d be locked back inside her room.

‘What the hell is this?’ he asked in that low, calm voice which touched every nerve ending in her body.

‘Wh-What?’ she asked, without turning from the sink.

‘The toast is burned.’

‘Sorry, love, let me put some more bread in the—’ She stopped speaking as his plate flew across the table and then crashed to the ground. Her body tensed in anticipation.

‘Are you really so useless you can’t even fix a decent snack?’ he thundered, rising from the chair.

‘Ju-Just g-give me a minute to?—’

‘Too late,’ he said, grabbing her hair from behind.

‘I’m sorry, love,’ she said, walking backwards so he didn’t hurt her too badly. ‘I was just distracted by all this talk about James.’

He stopped dead. ‘Why? He’s been gone ages. What concern is it of yours?’

‘H-He was a good man,’ she said as Logan twisted her around to face him.

The fire leaped from his eyes. ‘He wasn’t a good man. He was a bastard who was trying to come between us,’ he said, and his fist met with her ribs.

She cried out as the pain exploded on the left side of her body.

She gathered her breath back into her lungs. ‘Wh-Whatever you say, you can’t erase the time we h-had.’

His eyes widened. ‘Oh, Mommy, that’s fighting talk. I thought we agreed we weren’t going to talk about him again,’ he said, landing another punch in the exact same spot, knowing it was going to double her pain.

‘H-He was a g-good man,’ she repeated. ‘And I loved him.’

The fire in his eyes intensified as he punched her on the other side. Her words were igniting his rage.

‘It was going nowhere.’

‘He loved me,’ she insisted as the blows kept coming.

‘Don’t be stupid. He never loved you, and you just wanted company after Dad?—’

‘We talked about marriage,’ she protested, swallowing down the pain and trying to separate herself from it.

‘Then it’s a good job I put a stop to it, isn’t it?’ he asked triumphantly.

‘Wh-What?’

‘Don’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind since the police came. I know you’re not that dumb.’

‘But how, when, where?’ she spluttered in shock.

‘Fucking hell, Mom, it wasn’t even that hard. I knew where he fished. It happened the Sunday when he gave me that look.’

Olivia remembered it well. It was the last time she’d seen James. He’d stayed over, and they’d been enjoying a leisurely breakfast when Logan had come into the kitchen demanding she cook him a full English. James’s look of disgust at her son’s entitled tone had not gone unnoticed by either of them.

Within minutes, James had excused himself and left the house. Olivia had been able to feel her son’s simmering resentment with every mouthful. He had left the house not long afterwards.

He had returned much happier; had even made her a cappuccino and run her a bath.

‘You really thought I was going to accept being treated like that in my own home, a home that I’ve controlled since Dad died? Who the fuck did he think he was?’

Olivia said nothing as he pushed her to the ground and then stood over her.

‘And that’s how easy it was, Mommy,’ he spat. ‘I sat on a chopped-down log and bided my time. I hid from a fat guy walking his fat black Labrador, and I stayed out of sight until that old fart across the lake packed up. I thought he’d never finish his call and fuck off, but when he left at teatime, I just strode over to James, quietly, and pushed him in. He struggled so I held him down. He held out his hand for me to pull him out. I laughed. Like, what would be the point of that? I gave it a good stamp,’ he said, mimicking the movement with his foot. ‘He slid down the bank, and just like that he was gone.’

‘Logan,’ she coughed. Even now there was a part of her that wished it wasn’t true, that he was saying it to hurt her, but she knew in her heart of hearts it was true. Deep down, she had always known that Logan was responsible.

‘Are you happy now?’ he asked, finally stepping away from her.

There was so much she wanted to scream at him. So many things she wanted to say. But her heart was heavy with the guilt that James had lost his life because of her. If they’d never met, he’d still be alive.

And now, along with everything else she knew about her violent, aggressive, controlling, abusive son, she also knew that he was a killer.

The burned toast had been intentional. She had wanted him to get so full of rage that he’d reveal his involvement in James’s death. She’d known the level of beating she’d be forced to endure to get the details, and she’d been right.

Now she had the information, she just had to decide what she was going to do with it.