The Breakdown(56)
‘You look hot,’ he remarks, giving me a kiss. ‘Didn’t you have the air conditioning on?’
‘I was only in Browbury, so I didn’t bother putting it on for the short journey home.’
‘Did you go shopping?’
‘Yes.’
‘Buy anything nice?’
‘No.’
We go towards the front door and he unlocks it with his keys. ‘Where’s your bag?’ he says, nodding at my empty hands.
‘In the car.’ I walk quickly into the house. ‘I’ll get it in a minute, I need a drink first.’
‘Hold on, let me turn the alarm off first! Oh, it’s not on.’ Behind me, I sense him frowning. ‘Didn’t you turn it on when you left?’
‘No, I didn’t think it was necessary as I didn’t intend staying out for long.’
‘Well, I’d rather you turned it on in future. Now that
we have an alarm, we may as well use it.’
Leaving him to go and change, I make some tea and
carry it out to the garden.
‘Don’t tell me you went out with those on,’ he says, when he joins me a few minutes later.
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I look down at my feet. Not wanting to give him
more to worry about I fake a laugh. ‘No, I just put them on.’
He smiles and sits down next to me, stretching his
long legs out. ‘So what did you do today, apart from shopping in Browbury?’
‘I prepared a few more lessons,’ I say, wondering why I’m not mentioning that I bumped into John.
‘That’s good.’ He looks at his watch. ‘Ten past seven.
When you’ve finished your tea, change your shoes and I’ll take you out to dinner. We may as well get the weekend off to a flying start.’
My heart sinks, because I’m still full after my lunch with John.
‘Are you sure?’ I ask doubtfully. ‘Wouldn’t you rather stay in?’
‘Not unless there’s some of your curry left from the other day.’
‘Sorry.’
‘So let’s go out for one, then.’
‘All right,’ I say, relieved he hasn’t suggested going to Costello’s for pasta.
*
I go upstairs to change and take a small bag from the wardrobe, hide it under my cardigan and while he’s putting on the alarm I go out to my car and make a
The Breakdown
213
show of taking it from behind the seat. We drive into
Browbury and go to our favourite Indian restaurant.
‘You know our new neighbour?’ I say while we’re
looking at the menu. ‘Have you spoken to him at all?’
‘Yes, yesterday, when I was scouring the road for you coming back from Castle Wells. He walked past the house and we got chatting. Apparently, his wife left him just before they were due to move in.’
‘Where was he going?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You said he walked past the house.’
‘Yes, he was going up to his. He must have been
for a walk. I said we’d have him round for dinner one evening.’
My heart thumps. ‘What did he say?’
‘That he’d love to. That’s all right, isn’t it?’
I look down at my menu, pretending to study it. ‘As long as he’s not the murderer.’
Matthew bursts out laughing. ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’
‘Of course.’ I force a smile. ‘So, what’s he like?’
‘He seemed nice enough.’
‘How old?’
‘I don’t know – early sixties, I suppose.’
‘He didn’t seem that old when I saw him.’
‘He’s a retired pilot. They probably have to keep
themselves in good shape.’
‘Did you ask him why he’s always standing outside
our house?’
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‘No, because I didn’t know he was. But he did tell
me that he thought it was beautiful so maybe he’s been admiring it.’ He looks at me, a frown on his face. ‘Is he always standing outside our house?’
‘I’ve seen him there a couple of times.’
‘Not an arrestable offence,’ he says, as if he’s guessed where I’m going with my questions and is warning me off.
‘I didn’t say it was.’
He gives me an encouraging smile. ‘Let’s choose what we’re going to eat, shall we?’
I want to point out to him that a nice enough, retired pilot in his early sixties could still be a murderer but I know he won’t go there, let alone tell the police.
SATURDAY AUGUST 15th
The sharp slam of the post arriving vibrates through the house as we’re having breakfast. Matthew stands, a piece of buttered toast hanging halfway out of his mouth and walks into the hallway, coming back moments later with a couple of letters and a small package.
‘Here,’ he says, handing it to me. ‘It’s for you.’