The Breakdown(76)

He doesn’t say anything for a moment and I imagine

him trying to work out how he can get rid of me without causing offence.

‘I have been getting calls,’ I say. I glance up at him, standing by the bookshelf, leaning against it, contem-plating what I’ve just told him. ‘I really need you to believe that I have.’

‘I do believe you,’ he says.

I look at him warily, wondering if he’s just humouring me. ‘Why? I mean, nobody else has.’

‘A gut feeling, I suppose. Anyway, why would you

make up something like that? You don’t seem like an attention-seeker to me. If you were, you’d have gone to the police and to the media by now.’

‘They could be a figment of my imagination.’

‘The fact that you’re telling me they could be makes it unlikely.’





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‘So you really do believe that I’ve been getting calls from the person who killed Jane?’ I ask, needing him to confirm it.

‘No. I believe you’re getting calls but they’re not coming from the person who killed Jane.’

‘Don’t tell me, they’re coming from a call centre,’ I say, not bothering to hide my disappointment.

‘No, it’s obvious that there’s more to them than that.

Someone is definitely harassing you.’

‘So why can’t they be coming from the murderer?’

‘Because it’s not logical. Look, what exactly did you see when you drove past Jane’s car? If you’d been able to see her clearly, you would have recognised her. Yet you told me you didn’t.’

‘I couldn’t make out her features,’ I confirm. ‘I had the impression she was blonde, but that was all.’

‘So if you had seen someone sitting next to her in the car, the most you’d have been able to say was that they were dark or fair.’

‘Yes, but the killer doesn’t know that. He might think that I saw him clearly.’

He leaves the bookshelf and comes to sit down next to me. ‘Even if he was sitting next to Jane, in the passenger seat? The police think she picked him up before she got to the lay-by. Well, if she did, he would hardly have been sitting in the back seat, would he?’

‘No,’ I say, wondering what it must have been like for him to hear all the rumours that his wife had a lover.

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‘And there’s another flaw to your reasoning. If he


really thinks that you might go to the police with vital information about him, why would he let you live?

Why not just kill you? He’s already killed once, so why not again?’

‘But if the calls aren’t coming from him,’ I say, bewildered, ‘who are they coming from?’

‘That’s what you need to find out. But, I promise you, they aren’t coming from the person who killed Jane.’

He reaches out and takes hold of my hand. ‘You need to believe me.’

‘You don’t know how much I want to.’ My eyes

fill with tears. ‘Do you know what I did on Tuesday morning? I took an overdose. I didn’t do it on purpose, I wasn’t even aware I had swallowed down a load of pills but I suppose I did it because, subconsciously, my life had become intolerable.’

‘If I could have spared you any of it, I would have,’

he says quietly. ‘But I had no idea that Jane’s murder could impact on anyone other than our family.’

‘It’s strange,’ I say slowly. ‘I should feel relieved that it isn’t the murderer who’s been phoning me. But at least I thought I knew who it was. Now, it could be anybody.’

‘I know this is probably what you don’t want to hear, but it’s more likely to be someone you know.’

I stare at him in horror. ‘Someone I know?’

‘Daddy?’

One of his little daughters appears in the doorway

dressed in a t-shirt and nappy and clutching a toy rabbit.





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Getting to his feet, he sweeps her into his arms while I dry my tears hurriedly.

‘Is Louise still asleep?’ he asks, giving her a kiss.

‘Loulou sleeping,’ she says, nodding.

‘Do you remember the tissue lady from the park?’

‘Is your knee better?’ I ask. She holds her leg straight out so that I can see for myself. ‘Wonderful,’ I smile.

‘All gone.’ I look up at Jane’s husband. ‘I’ll let you get on. Thank you, again.’

‘I hope I’ve helped.’

‘Yes, you have.’ I turn to his little daughter. ‘Goodbye, Charlotte.’

‘You remembered,’ he says, pleased.

He walks me to the door. ‘Please think about what

I told you.’

‘I will.’

‘Take care.’

There are so many emotions running through me that

it’s impossible to drive so I find a bench in the park and sit for a while. Some of the fear that I’ve been carrying around with me for the past ten weeks, since that first phone call, has disappeared. Even though Matthew and Rachel both told me it wasn’t logical to suppose that it was the murderer phoning me, they didn’t know that I had seen Jane that night, so they couldn’t understand my fears. But Jane’s husband had all the facts and when I look at his reasoning – about why the calls can’t be coming from the murderer – it’s hard to fault it. But The Breakdown 293