The Breakdown(93)
24 Jul 23.40
Thanks!
24 Jul 23.40
Need to keep it genuine
You refuse, of course
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24 Jul 23.41
Can’t believe she’s so frightened 24 Jul 23.41
Good for us that she is
*
28 Jul 09.07
Good morning!
28 Jul 09.07
You sound chirpy. What’s up?
28 Jul 09. 08
C phoned to ask me if I’d just cal ed her She sounded jittery so said no for the fun of it 28 Jul 09.08
Is that it?
28 Jul 09.08
Same thing happened yesterday except it wasn’t me Played it down, told her probably a call centre 28 Jul 09.08
Still don’t get it
28 Jul 09.09
Thought I could do it again tomorrow. And day after
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Make her think she has stalker 28 Jul 09.09
Bril iant!
28 Jul 09.09
Thought you’d be pleased
*
05 Aug 23.44
Had a good day?
05 Aug 23.57
Sorry, was in shower
05 Aug 23.57
Lovely thought
05 Aug 23.58
? Day not bad, how about you?
05 Aug 23.58
Nothing exciting but just thought Do I silent call tomorrow as I’ll be at home 05 Aug 23. 58
If you don’t she’ll guess it’s you The Breakdown
377
05 Aug 23.59
Or could think she/house is being watched 05 Aug 23.59
Paranoia is good so go for it Thinking of those text messages makes me so angry I’m determined to find a way of avenging Jane. I go back over every little thing that has happened since that fateful night. And suddenly, I know exactly what to do.
I leave the lay-by and drive home quickly, praying that I won’t find Matthew or Rachel’s car parked in the drive.
There’s no sign of anyone but I look around carefully as I get out of the car. I let myself into the house. As I’m turning the alarm off the phone starts ringing. I see from the number that it’s Matthew, so I pick up.
‘Hello?’
‘At last!’ His agitation is clear. ‘Have you been out?’
‘No, I’ve been in the garden. Why? Have you been
calling?’
‘Yes, I tried to get you a few times.’
‘Sorry, I decided to clear the far end of the garden, by the hedge. I’ve just come in for a cup of tea.’
‘You’re not going out again, are you?’
‘I hadn’t intended to. Why?’
‘I thought I might take the afternoon off, spend a bit of time with you.’
My heart rate speeds up. ‘That will be lovely,’ I say calmly.
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b a paris
‘I’ll see you in an hour then.’
I hang up, my mind racing, wondering why he’s
decided to take the afternoon off. Maybe he, or Rachel, has managed to trace the group of French students who were in the pub last night and know I have the phone.
If the students are staying at the college in Castle Wells it wouldn’t be difficult to find out their whereabouts today. I’ve been lucky so far but, despite what I told Rachel, I can’t count on them being already on their way back to France.
I hurry out to the garden, hoping Matthew won’t have moved the knife from where Rachel left it that day. The cushions from the garden chairs have already been put away for the winter, stacked in a neat pile at the back of the shed. I move them aside and find myself face to face, not with a knife, but with an expresso machine.
It takes me all of five seconds to work out that it’s the one that used to stand in our kitchen, the one where the capsule slotted in without the need to lift a lever.
I search a little further and under an old garden table, covered with a sheet, I find a box with a picture of a microwave on the front and when I open it, I find our old microwave inside, the previous model of the one that now stands on our kitchen counter. I want to howl with rage at how easy it was for Matthew to dupe me but I’m scared that I won’t be able to stop, that all the emotions I’ve been keeping inside me since Rachel’s phone was handed to me yesterday afternoon will come spilling out, leaving me incapable of carrying on. So I The Breakdown
379
take my anger out on the microwave, kicking it over
and over again, first with my right foot and then with my left. And when my anger has gone and all that is left is immense sorrow, I set it aside for another day, and get on with what I have to do.
It takes me a few minutes more to find the knife,
stuffed into a flowerpot at the back of the shed, wrapped in a tea towel that I recognise as belonging to Rachel, because I have an identical one, brought back from a trip to New York. It might not be the knife used in Jane’s murder but I still feel sick looking at it. Without touching it, I wrap it up again quickly and put it back where I found it. By tonight it will be over, I tell myself, by tonight it will be over.
I go back into the house and stand for a moment,
wondering if I’m really going to be able to do it. And because there’s only one way to find out I go through to the hall, pick up the phone and dial the police.