The Breakdown(53)

‘Can I help out at all?’

I hesitate, weighing up my options. I don’t want to encourage him but he knows I’m with Matthew. And I definitely don’t want to go back to the house but I can’t wander aimlessly around Browbury for the rest of the day without the means to buy myself a coffee and newspaper.

‘I don’t suppose you’d like to buy me a coffee, would you?’

‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ He puts his hand in his pocket and draws out two one-pound coins. ‘I’ll even pay for your parking unless you want to get a ticket.’

The Breakdown





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‘I forgot about that,’ I say, pulling a face. ‘A pound


will be enough though; I’ll only need an hour.’

‘Not if you let me take you for lunch as well as coffee.’

‘Why not?’ I say, my spirits lifting at the thought of two hours of my day now filled. ‘As long as you’ll let me return the favour.’

‘Done.’

He goes over to the parking meter, puts the coins in and hands the ticket through the window.

‘Thanks.’

I get out of the car and he nods at my feet. ‘Nice shoes.’

I look down at my feet, clad in the old brown mocca-sins I use for gardening, which used to belong to Mum.

‘I was doing some weeding and I forgot to change out of them,’ I say, laughing. ‘Are you sure you still want to be seen out with me?’

‘Absolutely. Where would you like to go?’

‘You choose.’

‘How about Costello’s?’

‘Do you have time?’

‘Definitely. How about you? You’re not in a rush, are you?’

‘No, not at all.’

I have such a lovely time over the next couple of hours that I don’t want it to end. The thought of going home and only having my head for company makes me feel depressed again and I quickly take a sip of water.





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‘Thank you,’ I say gratefully, as John signals for the bill. ‘I really needed that.’

‘Me too.’

‘Why’s that?’ I ask.

‘Just that I’ve been at a bit of a loose end since my girlfriend disappeared off the scene. What about you?

Why did you need to get away for a couple of hours?

You’re not still being plagued by phone calls, are you?’

I look at him sharply. ‘What do you mean?’

‘From the call centre. It took my ears quite a long time to recover from the bashing they received.’

‘I still feel embarrassed about that,’ I groan.

‘I hope that’s not why you didn’t come for a drink last Friday. We missed you.’

‘I completely forgot!’ I say. All my anxieties come tumbling back. ‘I’m sorry, John, I feel dreadful!’

‘Don’t worry about it. You did say that Matthew had a couple of days off and that you might go away somewhere,’ he reminds me.

I know I should say something, ask if they had a good evening but I’m too devastated to speak.

‘Are you OK?’ he asks. ‘You seem a bit upset.’

I nod and look away, out over the high street at all the people living their lives. ‘It’s just that it’s been rather a strange summer.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

I shake my head slowly. ‘You’ll think I’m mad.’

‘Never.’

The Breakdown

203

I look at him and try to smile. ‘Actually, there’s a real possibility I am going mad. My mother had dementia for several years before she died and I’m worried that I might have the same condition.’

He stretches his arm out and for a moment I think he’s going to take my hand. But he reaches for his water glass. ‘Dementia and madness aren’t the same thing,’ he says, taking a sip of water.

‘No, they aren’t,’ I agree.

‘Have you been diagnosed with dementia?’

‘No, not yet. I’m meant to be seeing a specialist but I’ll probably forget to go.’ We both start laughing and I find I can’t stop. ‘God, it’s so good to laugh again,’ I say, still giggling.

‘Well, for what it’s worth, you don’t seem the least bit mad to me.’

‘That’s because you’re not living with me on a day-to-day basis. It’s not much fun for Matthew when I keep doing stupid things – you know, forgetting to change my shoes when I go out, leaving my bag at home.’

‘That’s the sign of someone who left her house in a hurry, not someone who’s mad.’ He looks questioningly at me, his intense dark eyes refusing to leave mine. ‘Did you leave in a hurry?’

‘I just don’t like being in the house on my own anymore,’ I shrug.

‘Since Jane’s murder?’





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‘It’s just that everything spooks me. Our house is a little too isolated for my liking.’

‘But there are other houses nearby, aren’t there?’