The Breakdown(7)

I tap the steering wheel nervously. In my haste to get

away from the house I hadn’t thought about how it

would feel to be in the car again, sitting in the same

The Breakdown





27


seat I’d been in when I saw the woman in the car. In an


attempt to distract myself I try to remember the present

I’d suggested for Susie. She works in the same company

as Rachel, in the Admin section. When Rachel said that

everybody had agreed to my suggestion I’m guessing

she was referring to their group of friends from work.

The last time we’d met up with them had been around a

month ago and I remember Rachel talking about Susie’s

fortieth birthday party, taking advantage of the fact that she hadn’t been able to join us that night. Was it then that I’d come up with an idea for a present?

By some miracle, I find a parking space in the street

not far from Fenton’s department store and make my

way to the tea room on the fifth floor. It’s crowded

but Rachel is already there, easily visible in a bright

yellow sundress, her dark head of curls bent over her

mobile. Two cups of coffee sit on the table in front of

her and I feel a sudden rush of gratitude for the way she always looks out for me. Five years older, she’s the sister I never had. Our mothers had been friends and because her mother worked long hours to support the two of them – having been abandoned by her husband not long

after Rachel was born – Rachel had spent a large part

of her childhood at our house, to such an extent that

my parents affectionately referred to her as their second daughter. When she’d left school at sixteen to begin working so her mother would be able to work less, she’d made a point of coming over for dinner once a week.

She was especially close to Dad and had mourned him





28


b a paris


almost as much as I had when he died, knocked down

by a car outside our house. And when Mum had become

ill and couldn’t be left alone, she would sit with her once a week so that I could go shopping.

‘Thirsty?’ I try to joke, nodding at the two cups on

the table but my words sound fake. I feel conspicuous,

as if everyone somehow knows that I saw the murdered

woman last night and didn’t do anything to help her.

She jumps up and gives me a hug. ‘There was such a

queue that I decided to go ahead and order,’ she says. ‘I knew you wouldn’t be long.’

‘Sorry, the traffic was bad. Thanks for coming, I really

appreciate it.’

Her eyes dance. ‘You know I’ll do anything for lunch

at Costello’s.’

I sit down opposite her and take a welcome sip of

coffee.

‘Did you have a wild time last night?’

I smile and a tiny bit of pressure lifts. ‘Not wild, but

it was good fun.’

‘Was gorgeous John there?’

‘Of course he was. All the teachers were.’

She grins. ‘I should have dropped in.’

‘He’s far too young for you,’ I say, laughing. ‘Anyway,

he has a girlfriend.’

‘And to think that you could have had him,’ she sighs,

and I shake my head in mock despair, because she’s never

quite got over the fact that I chose Matthew over John.

The Breakdown





29


After Mum died, Rachel had been brilliant.


Determined to get me out of the house, she began taking

me out with her. Most of her friends were people she

worked with, or knew from her yoga class, and when

I first met them, they would ask me where I worked.

After a couple of months of telling them that I’d given

up my job as a teacher to look after Mum, someone asked

why I wasn’t going back to work now that I could. And

suddenly, I wanted to, more than anything. I was no

longer content to sit at home day after day, enjoying a

freedom I hadn’t experienced in years. I wanted a life,

the life of a 33-year-old woman.

I was lucky. A shortage of teachers in our area meant I

was sent on a refresher course before being offered a job at a school in Castle Wells teaching History to Year 9

students. I enjoyed being back in work and when John,

the resident heart-throb of both teachers and students,

asked me out, it was ridiculously flattering. If he hadn’t been a colleague, I would probably have accepted. But I refused, which made him ask me out even more. He was so persistent that I was glad when I eventually met

Matthew.

I take another sip of coffee. ‘How was America?’

‘Exhausting. Too many meetings, too much food.’

She takes a flat package from her bag and pushes it

across the table.

‘My tea towel!’ I say, taking it out and unfolding it.

There’s a map of New York on the front. It’s a joke

between us – whenever Rachel goes away, on a business