The Breakdown(12)

thing is, although he knows that Mum died when she

was fifty-five and that towards the end she was forgetful, I’ve never actually come out and told him that for the three years before she died, I had to wash, dress and feed her. Neither does he know that she was diagnosed with dementia when she was forty-four, just ten years older than I am now. Back then, I couldn’t believe he would

still marry me if he thought there was a possibility that a dozen or so years down the line, I’d be diagnosed with the same thing.

I know now he would do anything for me but too

much time has passed. How can I admit that I held

things back from him? He’d been so open about not

being able to have children and I’d repaid his honesty

with dishonesty, I’d allowed my own selfish fears to get

The Breakdown

43

in the way of the truth. How I’m paying for that now, I think as I lie down on the bed.

I try to relax but images of last night flash through

my mind, one after the other, like stills in a film. I see the car ahead of me on the road, I see myself swerving out around it, I see myself turning my head to look at the driver. And then I see the blur of a woman’s face,

looking back at me through the window.

*

In the middle of the afternoon, Matthew comes to find

me. ‘I think I’ll go to the gym for a couple of hours.

Unless you want to go for a walk or something?’

‘No, it’s fine,’ I say, grateful to have some time on my

own. ‘I need to sort through the stuff I brought back

from school. If I don’t do it now, I never will.’

He nods. ‘Then we can both have a well-deserved

glass of wine when I get back.’

‘Deal,’ I say, accepting his kiss. ‘Have fun.’

I hear the front door slam but instead of going into

the study to sort out my work things I stay at the kitchen table and let my mind clamber over the thoughts in my head. The house phone rings; it’s Rachel.

‘You’ll never guess what,’ she says breathlessly. ‘You

know that young woman who was murdered? Well, it

turns out she worked in my company.’

‘Oh God,’ I mutter.





44


b a paris


‘I know, it’s awful, isn’t it? Susie’s in bits. She feels terrible and is cancelling the party – she just can’t bring herself to celebrate when the murder was of someone we knew.’

I feel a slight relief at not having to go out, but also

slightly sick that the murdered woman is becoming ever

more real.

‘Although I didn’t really know her because she worked

in a different division to me,’ Rachel continues, before

hesitating a moment. ‘Actually, I feel really bad because when I went into the office from the airport yesterday, I had an argument with someone over a parking space and I think it was her. I was quite verbal – it was the

jet-lag talking – and now I wish I’d let it go.’

‘You weren’t to know,’ I say automatically.

‘Susie said the people who worked with her are devastated. Some of them know her husband and, apparently, he’s absolutely distraught – well, he would be, of course.

And now he’s been left to bring up two-year-old twins

by himself.’

‘Twins?’ The word echoes through my head.

‘Yes, twin girls. It’s such a tragedy.’

I go ice cold. ‘What was her name?’

‘Jane Walters, Susie said.’

The name hits me with the force of a sledgehammer.

‘What? Did you say Jane Walters?’

‘Yes.’

My mind spins. ‘No, it can’t be. It’s not possible.’

‘That’s what Susie said,’ Rachel insists.

The Breakdown





45


‘But… but I had lunch with her.’ I’m so stunned I can


hardly speak. ‘I had lunch with her and she was fine. It

must be a mistake.’

‘You had lunch with her?’ Rachel sounds puzzled.

‘When? I mean, how did you know her?’

‘I met her at that leaving party you took me to, for that man who worked in your company, Colin. You know, the one you said it was all right for me to tag along to because there’d be so many people nobody would notice

that I didn’t work for Finchlakers. I got talking to her at the bar and we swapped phone numbers, and then a few days later, she called me. I told you when you phoned from New York, I said I was going to lunch with her

the next day, at least I thought I did.’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ Rachel says gently, understanding how distressed I am. ‘And even if you did, even if you’d told me her name, I wouldn’t have known who

she was. I’m so sorry, Cass, you must feel dreadful.’

‘I was meant to be going round to hers next week,’ I

say, realising. ‘To meet her little daughters.’ Tears spring to my eyes.

‘It’s horrible, isn’t it? And awful to think of her killer being out there somewhere.’ I hear her hesitate. ‘I don’t want to worry you, Cass, but your house must only be a couple of miles from where she was killed and well, it is a bit isolated, stuck down the end of the road by itself.’