The Breakdown(44)

Matthew finishes reassuring the police that they don’t need to come out and makes another call, again reassuring the person at the other end that everything is fine and that there’s nothing to worry about.

‘Who was that?’ I ask dully.

‘The office.’ He stays with his back turned as if he can’t bring himself to look at me. I don’t blame him. If I were in his shoes, I’d walk straight out the front door The Breakdown





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and never come back. ‘Valerie asked me to let them


know that you were all right.’ Now he turns and I wish he hadn’t because of the bewildered look on his face.

‘What’s going on, Cass? Why wouldn’t you answer any of my calls? I’ve been worried sick about you. I’ve been phoning you on and off for the best part of an hour.

I even tried your mobile in case you were upstairs. I thought something had happened to you.’

I give a harsh laugh. ‘What, that I’d been murdered?’

Shock registers on his face. ‘Is that what you wanted me to think?’

I regret my words instantly. ‘No, of course not.’

‘Then why didn’t you answer my calls?’

‘I didn’t know they were from you.’

‘You must have known; my number comes up!’ He

runs his hand through his hair, trying to understand.

‘Were you trying to teach me some kind of lesson, is that what this is about? Because if you were, I’m not sure I’ll be able to forgive you. Have you any idea what I’ve just been through?’

‘What about me?’ I cry. ‘What about what I’ve gone through? Why did you have to keep phoning? You know about the calls I’ve been receiving.’

‘I kept phoning because when you hung up without saying goodbye, I knew you were upset and I wanted to make sure you were all right! And why did you presume it was one of those calls without even checking the number? Nothing you say adds up, nothing at all!’





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‘I didn’t check who was calling because I got another silent call this morning! After that, I was too scared to answer in case it was him again.’

‘So scared that you barricaded yourself inside the sitting room?’

‘Well, at least you know how much those calls frighten me.’

He shakes his head wearily. ‘This has got to stop, Cass.’

‘Don’t you think I want it to?’ He walks towards the door. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Back to work.’

I look at him in dismay. ‘Can’t you stay?’

‘No. When I couldn’t get through to you, I had them reschedule a meeting.’

‘Then can you come back as soon as it’s finished?’

‘No, I’m afraid not. There are too many people away.’

‘But you told me earlier that you’d try and come home early!’

He sighs. ‘I’ve just taken an hour out of my working day to come and check up on you so I’ll be home at the usual time,’ he says patiently.’ He takes the car key from his pocket. ‘I need to go.’

He leaves, closing the front door firmly behind him and I wonder how much more he’s going to be able to take before he snaps completely. I hate myself, I hate what I’ve become.

Desperate for a cup of tea, I go into the kitchen and switch on the kettle. If it hadn’t been for the knife I’d The Breakdown





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seen lying on the side last night, I would have coped


better this morning. The call would still have upset me but I wouldn’t have been so traumatised that I couldn’t check who the next call was coming from. If I had, I would have seen it was from Matthew, I would have answered it and everything would have been all right.

Now, it seems ridiculous that I was so terrified I barricaded myself into the sitting room. You’re going mad, says a sing-song voice in my head. You are going mad.

I carry my tea through to the sitting room. The window I tried to climb out of is still open and, as I go to close it, I realise that it could have been me that set off the alarm, not Matthew. The thought that it might have been joint effort – me with the window, Matthew with the front door – makes me start laughing and it feels so good I don’t try to control it. As I walk towards the other window, the one that looks onto the front of the house, I’m still laughing, a laugh that I recognise borders on hysteria. I pull the curtains back – and the laughter dies in my throat. Because standing in the road outside is the man, the man I saw before, walking past the house, the man that could be our new neighbour, the man that could be my silent caller, the man that could have murdered Jane. We stare at each other for a moment and then he walks away, not towards the houses at the top of the road but in the other direction, towards the woods.

The little strength I had left drains from my body and I walk into the kitchen, not to fetch my computer but





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to swallow down some of my pills. They make the rest of the day just about bearable. I spend it huddled on the sofa, only stirring an hour before Matthew gets home.