Warning: Episode may contain strong language, violence and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

PREVIOUSLY…

• Charlotte received a sinister message from her stalker along with a photo taken out the front of her home, leaving her terrified. Her husband, Mark, ran outside to see if he could catch the culprit, but they were gone.
• Following several failed attempts to gain entry into the newly installed lock box and, believing her husband, Tom, was hiding something from her, Kate managed to finally crack the combination, and the box opened, ready to reveal its secret.
• Natalie blackmailed Julia for £100,000 in order to keep about Nick’s biological parents. However, Julia’s mother, Judith, eventually paid the demand without Julia knowing.
• Judith revealed to Mark that his daughter, Natalie, had been blackmailing Julia, and Mark planned to confront Natalie about the accusations.
• It was revealed to the village that Emma was Nick’s biological mother. Distraught at the news, Nick drove off and was later involved in a car accident that left him fighting for life while his fiancé, Jasmine, kept a bedside vigil.
• Natalie, having discovered a handwritten note from her late mother, Jennifer, tucked in the back of her favourite book, vowed revenge on Julia after reading its contents. She later declared to Judith that Julia was responsible for Jennifer’s death – a claim Judith flatly denied.
• After drunkenly slapping six-year-old Poppy, Neha was fired from her job as a teacher. Distraught, she sat on the bathroom floor drinking while a positive pregnancy test lay on the floor beside her.
• Upset to discover his husband, Lee, was having an affair with Tom, Jack was beyond furious when he saw Tom having a good time in the pub.

Pineview House,
Glendale

“Was anyone out there?”

Charlotte Sinclair hovered in the entry hall of Pineview House, partially hidden behind the black painted front door, as she tried to shield herself from the stalker’s prying eyes that had tormented her for the past few weeks. Fear gripped her and she clutched her iPhone tightly in her hands. The device still displayed the Instagram message that contained the ominous words “home sweet home” beneath a photo taken from the street outside of their beautiful traditional Edwardian house.

Mark, her husband, hurried back inside and slammed the door behind him. He secured the deadbolt and let out a deep exhale of breath as he tried to calm himself and think of what to do next. “No, not that I could see,” he said and looked to his nineteen-year-old daughter, Natalie, who had returned home moments before Charlotte had received the message. “You’re sure there was no one outside?”

“Positive,” Natalie replied, her eyes flicking from her father to her stepmother and back again. “There was no one around. Why, what’s happening?”

“I’m calling the police.”

While Mark rushed into the living room, snatched his iPhone from the coffee table, and began to dial 999, Charlotte remained where she was. Her thumbs darted across the screen of her device as she typed out a message.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked curiously as he pressed the phone to his ear and waited for an emergency dispatcher to answer his call.

“Sending that sick psycho one final message!” Charlotte replied as she rather aggressively jabbed an index finger at her phone and sent the text into the ether.

A beat later than a second, in her dumped handbag in the hallway, Natalie’s phone chimed. The piercing sound echoed through the silent house, and, as the truth smashed over them like a tidal wave, Charlotte and Mark looked to the raven-haired teen in shock.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Greystone Downs Farm,
Glendale

In the barn of Greystone Downs, amongst the smell of hay and the faint musk of animals, Kate Spencer stood staring at the recently installed key box. After several unsuccessful attempts to crack the combination and see what her husband, Tom, was hiding inside, she had finally managed it with a code of 0722 – the score her husband claimed to be the greatest achievement in his village cricketing career. The metal door was unlocked and ajar, tempting her to look inside and discover the truth that Tom had fought so hard to keep secret.

Kate’s body tingled with anticipation, and she felt slightly unsteady on her feet. Once she opened that door, she would cross a line she could never come back from. But her doubts trumped her fears, and, with a slightly trembling hand, she pulled back the door. Inside the rectangular metal box, that was no bigger than 15 cm high and 10 cm wide, was nothing but an old Samsung Galaxy S i9000 phone. A frown settled across Kate’s brow as she retrieved the device from its tomb and turned it over in her hands. She recognised it as her husband’s old phone and knew that it had to have been at least 13 years old.

Why would Tom still have this?

An uneasy panic began to leech into Kate’s system. It was all beginning to feel too real, but an insatiable need to know the truth spurred her on. She pressed her thumb against the button on the side, and after a few seconds, the phone turned on and the screen illuminated. The fact it still worked shocked her almost as much as finding it. Kate’s heart thundered harder and faster in her chest. There was definitely no going back now. She clicked through the options and opened the messages. A string of secret communications between Tom and someone simply listed as “L” detailed an affair, and Kate’s stomach dropped.

Salacious message after salacious message and explicit image after explicit image laid bare Tom’s infidelity. There were texts, photos, and phone calls, hundreds and hundreds of them between Tom and “L,” who was beyond doubt a man, thanks to the dozens of explicit photos Tom had received.

Kate’s hands trembled uncontrollably; her body shook with shock, and her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps. Her legs were barely able to support her weight, and she suddenly felt nauseous and dizzy. Suddenly, Kate felt a tremor ripple through her foundations as her world came crashing down around her.

As the service kicked in, the phone suddenly vibrated with a new message. Kate clicked on the communication – another message from “L” – and her heart stopped.

I love you too xx

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Pineview House,
Glendale

“Oh my God! It’s you!” Charlotte turned pale as she caught the look of guilt that flashed across her stepdaughter’s porcelain face. “It’s you! You’ve been sending me all those messages!”

While Charlotte rapidly composed another message to prove her point, Mark’s eyes widened in disbelief as his ears struggled to process his wife’s accusation. He blinked rapidly, and his brow was deeply furrowed with confusion.

Charlotte hit send on another message, and Natalie’s phone pinged.

As the truth clicked into place in Mark’s mind, he turned his attention to the handbag lying dumped on the floor, surrounded by shopping bags from luxury boutiques and stores that Natalie couldn’t normally afford.

“Dad! No!”

Without hesitation, Mark flew past his daughter and down the passage, scooping up Natalie’s handbag before ripping it open in search of her mobile. “Give me your phone!”

“No!” Natalie yelled as she followed closely behind and tried to snatch the handbag from her father’s grip.

“Give it to me, Nat! Now!”

“No!”

Charlotte watched on with numb disbelief as Mark and Natalie tugged and wrestled to claim possession of the black leather Kate Spade handbag.

With one forceful yank, Mark ripped it from Natalie’s grasp and retrieved her iPhone. He didn’t need to unlock it because, as his eyes scanned the screen, there were push notifications for the messages that Charlotte had just sent. With his wife’s accusations confirmed, Mark looked back at his daughter in horror.

“You’re the one behind this!” He stammered, almost breathless, as if the revelation had left him winded. “How could you?”

“Not all of it! Dad—”

“First the blackmail, and now this? What the hell is wrong with you?”

An ever so faint flicker of panic crossed Natalie’s face as she tried to work out how her father knew. “Blackmail? Whatever Julia says, she’s lying.”

“Who said anything about Julia?”

“What?” Natalie suddenly realised her error. Panic engulfed her. The plan she had so carefully crafted and maintained control of began to unravel at a rate of knots. “You did. You said Julia—”

Fury engulfed Mark’s body as he realised everything was true. “I never mentioned that you were blackmailing Julia!” He roared with a rage that hurt his voice and seemed to cause the foundations of the house to shudder and groan. “My God! You’re sick! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Maybe we should just take a minute before we say things we’ll regret,” Charlotte said as she stepped forward and tried to calm the situation before it spiralled any deeper than it already had.

“I raised you better than this!”

One sentence was all it took for a switch to flick in Natalie’s mind. With her head slightly bowed, she looked back at her father from under the fringe of her raven-coloured bob. Her eyes seemed to darken to slate grey as a menacing snarl tugged at the edges of her lips.

“You didn’t raise me at all!” She sneered with a coldness that sent a shiver down Mark’s spine. “You didn’t raise me because you were never here! After mum died, where were you, dad, huh? Because you weren’t fucking here, that’s for sure!”

Mark had a visceral reaction to his daughter’s cutting remarks and stepped back, almost as if he were mortally wounded. Following Jennifer’s death in 2007, he had struggled to cope and had suffered what would be described nowadays as a mental breakdown. Mark knew he hadn’t been there for his children when they needed him most, but he had tried as best he could and had enlisted the help of family and friends – in particular Carol Kennedy – to help him through the turbulent time.

“That’s not fair,” Mark replied through gritted teeth and a tight mouth. “I tried.”

Natalie threw her head back with a cruel laugh. “Tried? Tried? What, do you want a fucking participation medal? I was two!” She hit a fist against her breastbone that caused a deep thud. “I needed my dad, and you weren’t here! For seventeen years, you’ve barely been there!”

“I couldn’t cope!”

“And I could?”

“You know what happened.”

“Yeah, her fucking sister-in-law and that junkie brother of hers killed my mum! That’s what happened!” Natalie yelled so loudly that it hurt her throat as she flung her right arm out and pointed an accusatory finger in stepmother’s direction. “And you know what?” she continued as a cold expression that matched her voice poisoned her features. “I’m glad that Michael Bancroft suffered a painful death! I’m glad he was thrown through the windscreen! I’m glad that every bone in his body was broken and his blood was splattered across the roadside because that was nothing less than he deserved!”

Charlotte was horrified, and her eyes instantly prickled with tears as painful memories of Michael filled her head. She wanted to slap Natalie for the vile things she had just said. She wanted to claw at her eyes and defend Michael until her final breath. But she couldn’t. No one had known they were lovers at the time of his death, and if Mark ever found out the truth, Charlotte knew instinctively that it would be the end of their marriage.

Mark’s eyes darted to his wife, and he could clearly see her shock and pain. “Stop this at once!”

Natalie shook her head in silent refusal. “So yeah, to circle back to your earlier comment,” she said with a shrug. “Yes, I was blackmailing Julia. I overheard her talking about Nick’s biological parents, and I saw an opportunity to drag that fucking bitch down off her throne! Because she deserves to rot for what she did to my mother – your wife!”

“Enough!” Mark’s voice boomed like thunder through the hallway.

“You’re wicked,” Charlotte whispered, her eyes practically bulging out of her head as she struggled to comprehend the sheer level of hatred and vitriol that the nineteen-year-old felt towards her family.

Natalie stepped towards her father, closing the gap between them. “For seventeen years you’ve done nothing, but I’m going to.” She turned her head and looked in Charlotte’s direction. A sinister smirk played on her lips. “I’m going to burn it all down! I’m going to destroy your family for what they’ve done to mine!”

With Charlotte shaking like a leaf at her stepdaughter’s threats, Mark rediscovered his fire and became incredulous. “Get out!” He yelled and grasped Natalie by the arm before marching her towards the front door.

Natalie baulked at her father’s grip and tried to free herself as she struggled to keep up with his thumping stomps. “Get off me!”

“Mark!” Charlotte pleaded as she hurried after them. “Mark! Stop!”

With the fingers of his right hand digging into Natalie’s bicep, Mark dragged his daughter along as she tugged and jostled, desperately trying to free herself from her father’s vicelike grip. He reached the front door, opened it with his left hand, and threw her out. Natalie crashed to the ground with a thud.

“You disgust me!” He spat in a tone so caustic it left no doubt that their relationship had been severed forever. “We’re done here! I have never been more ashamed. You are nothing to me anymore, Natalie, and you never will be!”

As Mark headed back inside and slammed the front door shut, Natalie scrambled to her feet. “You’re going to regret this!” She screamed wildly and bashed her fists against the door in fury. “Mark my works, Dad! You’ll regret this!”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

The Oak & Vine,
Glendale

With his mind in turmoil following the discovery that his husband, Lee, had been having an affair with Tom, Jack Campbell stared at the local farmer as he sat at a table in the far corner of the pub with Ben Granger. Fury burbled within Jack as he watched Tom laugh and chat with his cousin without a care in the world. Anger consumed him, and as his eyes flared with fury the likes of which he had never felt before, Jack stormed through the pub.

“Oi! Tom!”

Upon hearing his name, Tom looked over in Jack’s direction, and his heart fell to the pit of his stomach. Jack’s eyes were wild with a look that left little doubt about what was to come, and he charged through the pub with a head full of steam and his fists clenched so tightly at his side that his knuckles were white. Tom summoned up a weak smile and tried to appease him.

“Alright, Jack?”

Without giving a response, Jack swung a fist that connected sharply with Tom’s jaw in one brutal movement. The force of the blow knocked Tom from his chair, and as he crashed to the floor, Jack straddled him and let fly with another two vicious punches.

“Tom!” Carol Kennedy screamed as she and her husband, Tony, raced from behind the bar while Ben, Brian Granger, and Arthur Hollingsworth rushed to her son’s aide.

“Jack! Stop!” Ben yelled as he tugged at the police sergeant, trying to prise him off of his cousin.

“Stop!” Tony bellowed as he joined in, trying to figure out what the hell had caused Jack – usually so kind, caring, and passive – to launch such a brutal attack on his stepson.

“Fuck you!” Jack snarled at Tom as he was pulled away by Ben, Brian, and Tony. “Fuck you, Tom! Fuck you!”

While Arthur tried to help Tom to his feet, Carol, Pamela Granger, and Hilda Hollingsworth raced to his side. Tom struggled to his feet as a stream of thick blood poured from his nose.

“Get him outta here!” Tony barked instructions at Ben and Brian as they tried with all their might to drag a resisting Jack towards the doors.

Like her husband, Carol couldn’t understand what had provoked such an attack. “Jack, what the hell is your problem?”

“I said get him out!” Tony repeated.

Jack thrashed about, trying to free himself from Brian and Ben. “Ask him!” He yelled, “Go on! Ask him!”

With the pub in chaos, Carol looked at her son, and, despite his bloodied nose and the bruises and welts already showing, she could see the guilt written all over his face. “Tom?”

Numb and slightly dizzy from the ferocity of Jack’s attack. Tom glanced around the pub. Everyone was looking in his direction, seeking some sort of answer as to what he had done that had caused the usually peaceful Jack to lash out so brutally.

“Get him out of here!” Tony repeated for a third time, irritated as Ben and Brian struggled with a resisting Jack.

“Go on, Tom!” Jack yelled as he was dragged along, and Brian opened the door. “Tell ‘em! Tell ‘em what a disgusting lying cheater you are!”

Pamela’s eyes bulged at the accusation while Hilda’s mouth twitched with delight, thoroughly enjoying the drama – not that she would admit it.

“Tom?” Carol said as she looked at her son with a frown of confusion while the chaos swirled around her. “What’s he talking about?”

But as she gazed into her son’s hazel eyes, Carol knew Jack was telling the truth. Tom looked back at his mother with a mixed expression of guilt, sorrow, and pain that spoke louder than words ever could.

Before Tom had a chance to answer, Jack dropped a bomb that sent shockwaves around the village. “He’s fucking my husband!”

Tom felt his knees buckle under the weight of his body.

“He’s fucking Lee! It’s been going on for months!”

The silence in the pub was deafening. Without realising it, Brian and Ben both loosened their grip on Jack. Pamela looked to her nephew, her heart aching as she saw the look of horror that crossed his chiselled features. For the first time, Hilda regretted being witness to a matter that should’ve remained private. While Tony, mouth agape, looked from Tom to Carol and back again.

Carol looked at her son with a pleading gaze. She silently begged him to tell her that Jack was wrong, that he hadn’t broken Kate’s trust and destroyed the life they had worked so hard to build together. She wanted him to tell her that it was all a big misunderstanding, but more than anything, she wanted to hug him and tell him that it would all be okay. “Tom?”

Tom could see the look of shock and judgement in everyone’s eyes. He knew exactly what they were thinking – how disappointed and disgusted they were in him. The pain from the blows inflicted on him by Jack vanished, replaced by the searing agony of shame and humiliation. His eyes began to burn with tears, and his chin quivered. Without uttering a word, Tom ran out of the pub, unable to cope with the disgrace and embarrassment.

“Tom!” Carol ran after her son as fast as her feet could take her. “Tom! Wait!”

Bursting through the heavy doors of the pub, Carol rushed out into the warm September air to see Tom’s car speeding off down Queen Victoria Street.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Honeysuckle Cottage,
Glendale

Miserable, Emma Blake lay on her grey fabric sofa with her head resting on a cushion and her eyes focused on the television as the latest episode of “Doctors” aired, although she wasn’t paying attention. Instead, her mind swirled with thoughts and worries. Following the revelation that she was the biological mother of Nick Harrington-Jones, and the car accident that left him fighting for his life, Emma had found herself barred from the hospital by Nick’s fiancée, Jasmine Atkins, as well as the talk of the village. Unable to face anyone but Ben, she had locked herself away inside her homely cottage.

While her biological son had thus far survived, Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that history was repeating itself. Nick’s accident had occurred on the exact spot where, seventeen years earlier, his father and Emma’s ex-boyfriend, Michael Bancroft, had been killed in a car accident. The thought of losing another child, let alone one she hadn’t had a chance to explain things to or hold in her arms, both terrified and traumatised her.

The doorbell’s sudden chime cut through her thoughts. Emma froze, unable to face anyone. The doorbell chimed again. And again. And again. The brass flap on the mail slot opened, and suddenly the distinct estuary accent of Queenie Baxter echoed in the entryway.

“Doc? It’s Queenie. I know yer in there! Open up! Ya can’t leave me standin’ on the doorstep! I’m old! I could be mugged by delinquents an’ break an ‘ip or somethin’!”

An involuntary smile turned the corners of Emma’s mouth.

“C’mon! I ain’t got many minutes left of this life, an’ yer gonna make me spend ‘em standin’ ‘ere, ‘unched over, yellin’ at ya through ya mail slot like some cheap tart? Outrageous!”

Emma’s smile widened, and, for the briefest moment, she felt herself lighten. She lifted her weary body from the sofa and, with an unenergetic shuffle, passed through the living room and into the passage.

As the front door opened, Queenie straightened – as well as her old bones would allow – and smiled a warm smile that showcased her crooked teeth. “‘ello, Lovie.” She looked Emma up and down, and her smile faded slightly. The local doctor’s chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she wore a pair of grey track pants and a faded oversized jumper emblazoned with “I ❤ EURO DISNEY” that was clearly several sizes too big. “Ya look a right state! I’m comin’ in!”

Before Emma knew what was happening, Queenie bustled past her – tapping her out of the way with her walking stick – and hobbled through the entry hall and into the living room. The flurry of movement left Emma bamboozled. She closed the door and moved into the living room. “Queenie, I—”

“‘ere. I bought ya a Milk Tray,” Queenie said, handing over the iconic purple box of Cadbury chocolates. “Sugar is good for shock. An’ don’t worry, they’re in date. I put the expired ones aside for that witch, Judith Bancroft.”

Accepting the box of chocolates, Emma frowned, trying to take in everything that was happening.

Queenie sniffed the air and looked around the room. “Ya need to open a window! Stinks in ‘ere a bit. Fresh air is good for ya. Does the lungs well.” She demonstrated taking in a deep breath and made a rolling motion with her hand in front of her chest. “Good for the soul is air. Ya would be dead without it!” The octogenarian’s eyes shifted to the television. “Turn it off! I don’t wanna see!” she said, shielding her eyes. “I watch me ‘Doctors’ on iPlayer in the evenin’ before me ‘EastEnders’!”

Emma collected the remote control from the coffee table and turned the television off. “Is there something I can do for you, Queenie?”

The elderly woman sucked her gums and then licked her lips. “I came to see ‘ow ya is,” she said matter of factly as she gave another look of disapproval to Emma’s attire. “Now, I ain’t gonna beat ‘round the bush. I’m ‘ere because I ‘eard about Nick an’ that yer ‘is mum.”

Emma felt herself sway slightly. “Right,” she replied somewhat breathlessly as she returned the remote control to the coffee table, placed the box of chocolates beside it, and gestured for Queenie to have a seat on the sofa. “I guess that was to be expected.”

Taking up the offer, Queenie lowered her old bones down onto the comfy couch and set her walking stick at her side. “An’ I figured you could use a friend,” she said with genuine warmth, reaching out and taking Emma’s hand in hers as she joined her on the sofa. The simple act of kindness and friendship made the doctor’s eyes instantly fill with tears. “I know wot this place is like once they get a bit of juicy gossip – ‘specially that ‘ilda ‘ollin’sworth. Somethin’ as scandalous as this don’t come along every day, so they’re gonna latch on to it an’ bleed it til it can’t bleed no more.”

Emma lowered her eyes to her lap and chewed on her cheeks to try and stop herself from breaking down. She watched Queenie’s arthritic fingers move tenderly back and forth across the top of her hand as she tried to soothe and comfort her.

Queenie continued. “But I’m ‘ere to tell ya to keep ya ‘ead ‘igh, ya shoulders back, an’ stand like the Queen that ya is. Everyone’s gonna ‘ave an opinion – that’s the thing ’bout village life – but soon there’ll be some other drama, an’ yer news will be nothin’ but tomorrow’s chip paper. You’ve got a good ‘eart, Doc. Don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise, y’hear?”

“Thank you, Queenie.”

“I also wanted to tell ya that I understand what yer goin’ through more than most.”

Slightly confused, Emma lifted her head and looked back at her elderly friend with a frown.

“Go put the kettle on, Lovie,” Queenie instructed as she patted Emma’s hand and straightened her posture. “Yer gonna need a brew for what I’ve got to tell ya.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Greystone Downs Farm,
Glendale

Kate’s hands trembled as she held Tom’s secret phone, its screen glowing with the latest message that confirmed his infidelity. I love you too. Four simple words were all it took to abruptly change the course of her life and destroy everything she knew, loved, and believed in. Kate’s eyes fixed on the contact – simply saved as L. While her head begged her not to, her heart – now forever scorched – encouraged her to seek the answers that she so desperately needed, no matter how painful they may be. With a sharp intake of breath, Kate pressed the call button and held the phone to her ear.

The phone rang once, twice, and three times, and then, on the fourth call, a familiar voice answered.

“Hey sexy! I’ve been waiting to hear from you,” Lee Campbell said in a flirtatious tone that made Kate’s heart stop. “Tom? Babe? You there?”

Unable to hear anymore, Kate abruptly ended the call as a tear broke from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Thyme Cottage,
Glendale

From the moment Ashwin Patel turned the key in the lock and pushed open the front door to the quaint cottage he called home, he could sense something was wrong. The house was eerily still. “Premika?”

Ashwin stepped inside, placed his keys in the small wooden ball on the hall table, and dropped his backpack to the floor. “Neha? You home?” He closed the front door and began to move through the ground floor of the cottage, looking into each room as he made his way towards the staircase. “Neha?”

At the foot of the stairs, he stopped and listened. He could hear sobbing coming from upstairs. Ashwin’s pulse quickened a little, and he ran up the staircase, taking two steps at a time. He crossed the landing and, through the opened door of the bathroom, could see his wife slumped on the floor. Without hesitation, Ashwin took to her side. He dropped to his knees, stroked the hair from her tear-stained face, and forced a smile.

“Hey, there she is, the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said gently, trying to mask his concern. It was blatantly obvious Neha was beyond drunk, and Ashwin’s heart sank when he saw the near-empty bottle of cheap gin in her hand.

Neha pulled herself free from her husband’s caring touch. “Get off me!”

“I take it it wasn’t good news,” Ashwin said, referencing the meeting from earlier in the day between Neha and the school principal where she learnt her fate after drunkenly slapping her pupil, Poppy Granger. “I’m sorry. I meant to come home earlier, but time got away from me.”

Unwilling to listen to her husband any longer, Neha struggled to her feet. Her body swayed, and it felt like the world was swishing around as if she were floating on a choppy ocean. “Get outta my way!” she barked, shoving Ashwin aside as she made for the stairs.

“Neha! Stop!”

As Ashwin moved to pursue his wife, he caught sight of the pregnancy test lying on the bathroom floor. A heavy frown settled across the mechanic’s brow as he crouched down and retrieved the plastic test. Staring at the two lines, Ashwin couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. It wasn’t possible for Neha to be pregnant as he was infertile. He swallowed heavily as he began to put the puzzle pieces together. If Neha was pregnant, then it meant only one thing – the baby wasn’t his.

“Neha!” Ashwin set off in pursuit of his wife, pregnancy test in hand. He hurried down the stairs and moved from room to room until he found her standing in the living room. “Neha!”

Unsteady on her feet and swaying, Neha turned and looked back at her husband. In her blurry haze, she could see the pregnancy test in his hand.

“What is this?”

“What does it look like?” Neha replied with a snarl. “Don’t worry! It ain’t yours!”

Ashwin practically recoiled at the cruel revelation. “What?” He said, his voice trembling as he struggled to comprehend the past few minutes. “You’re pregnant? What do you mean? What… I… Whose is it?”

Neha ignored Ashwin and turned her back on him, unwilling to dignify his questions with a response.

“Answer me, Neha!” Ashwin’s voice took on a serious tone as confusion gave way to anger. He moved closer to his wife and grabbed for her arm in an effort to turn her around. “Who is the father? Answer me!”

“Get your hands off me!” At her husband’s urgent touch, Neha felt a wave of irritation and anger sweep over her. She rebuffed his attempt to spin her around and instead lashed out with a violent backhand designed to free herself from his grasp. The movement of her hand connected with the side of Ashwin’s head; the force of the blow was so strong it almost knocked him from his feet. The pregnancy test fell to the ground, and Ashwin clutched his cheek as Neha turned and looked at him.

“Premika, you need professional help.”

The words ignited a firestorm of rage within Neha, and she launched herself at her husband. Ashwin stumbled backward, trying to defend himself against his wife’s intoxicated blows. In a violent frenzy, Neha struck Ashwin again and again and again. Each brutal punch and stinging slap was fuelled by anger and alcohol. Unable to stop the onslaught, Ashwin held his arms up to cover his face and tried to grab hold of Neha’s writs. The hits kept coming. Enraged, Neha was unrelenting, punching, slapping, and scratching with the ferocity of a tiger. Then she let fly with a closed fisted whack that connected with the side of Ashwin’s head and knocked him from his feet. The blow was so hard that Neha heard the bones in her hand crack. As he fell, Ashwin hit his head against the coffee table, and a sickening thud echoed around the living room as his skull fractured and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

As the adrenaline of the frenzied attack faded and the reality of what she had done began to sink in, Neha dropped to her knees beside her husband’s body. “Ash?” she whispered, almost too scared to speak, as she shook him gently. “Ash, wake up.”

Thyme Cottage was once again eerily still and quiet.

Neha held her ear near Ashwin’s mouth. He was barely breathing. She felt for a pulse, and the heartbeat – so faint it almost didn’t exist – gave her hope. “Ashwin,” she sniffed, shaking her husband more violently. “Ash, wake up!” Even in her inebriated state, Neha knew Ashwin was in serious trouble. Stumbling to her feet, she picked up her phone from the coffee table and dialled 999. “Hello? I need an ambulance.”

NEXT TIME…

• Queenie reveals a painful secret to Emma.
• Kate confronts Tom about his affair.