The Breakdown(96)

someone over a parking space.’ I pause. ‘Unless the row wasn’t over a parking space.’

PC Lawson gets out her mobile and taps something

into it. ‘Why do you say that?’

I look out of the kitchen window to the garden

beyond, bathed in the late summer sun. ‘Well, if it was over a parking space, why didn’t she tell you about it?’

I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, The Breakdown





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it’s just that I’m not feeling very happy with Rachel


right now.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because she’s been having an affair.’ I look down at my hands. ‘With my husband.’

There’s a small silence. ‘How long has it been going on?’ PC Lawson asks.

‘I don’t know, I only found out about it recently. A couple of weeks ago Rachel came over unexpectedly and I saw Matthew kissing her in the hall,’ I say, glad to be able to use something from their text messages against them, even if it means I’ve just lied to the police.

The two police officers exchange glances again.

‘Did you tell your husband what you’d seen?’ PC

Thomas asks. ‘Did you confront him?’

‘No, he would only have dismissed it and say my mind was playing tricks on me like he did with the knife I saw in the kitchen.’ I hesitate a moment. ‘Sometimes I wonder if…’ I stop, wondering how far I should go in paying Matthew back for what he’s done.

‘Yes?’ PC Lawson prompts.

A pleasing image of handcuffs snapping around

Matthew’s wrists comes to mind. ‘Sometimes I wonder if Jane knew about their affair,’ I say. ‘Sometimes I wonder if, when she saw him through the restaurant window, she looked shocked because she recognised him. I don’t know, maybe she’d seen him and Rachel together.’ Wanting to be sure they’re thinking what I want them to think, I spell it out for them. ‘When





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b a paris


I found the knife in the shed just now I didn’t know what to think. At first, I thought the murderer had hidden it there and I was going to phone Matthew to ask him what I should do. And then I remembered that he didn’t believe me when I told him about the knife in the kitchen so I phoned you instead.’ I let tears fill my eyes. ‘But now I don’t know if I did the right thing because I know what you’re thinking, I know you think that Matthew is the murderer, that he killed Jane because she knew about him and Rachel and was going to tell me, but he can’t be, he can’t be!’

With perfect timing, Matthew arrives home.

‘What’s going on?’ he says, coming into the kitchen.

He looks over to where I’m standing. ‘Did you set the alarm off again?’ He turns to one of the officers. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been called out again. It’s very probable that my wife has early-onset dementia.’

I open my mouth to tell them that all I’ve been diag-nosed with is stress but close it quickly, because at this point it isn’t really important.

‘We’re not here for the alarm,’ PC Lawson explains.

He puts his bag down on the floor, frowning. ‘Well, if you’re not here because of the alarm, can I ask what this is about?’

‘Have you seen this before?’ PC Thomas holds out

the tea towel, the knife clearly visible.

We all hear the tiny hesitation. ‘No, why, what is it?’

‘It’s a knife, Mr Anderson.’

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‘Good grief.’ Matthew sounds shocked. ‘Where did


you find it?’

‘In your garden shed.’

‘In the garden shed?’ He manages to look incredulous.

‘How did it get there?’

‘That’s what we’re here to find out. Perhaps we can all go and sit down?’

‘Of course. If you’d like to come through.’

I follow everyone through to the sitting room.

Matthew and I sit down on the sofa and the two officers draw up chairs. I don’t know if they do it on purpose but they place the chairs right opposite Matthew, hemming him in, leaving me out of their claustrophobic triangle.

‘Can I ask who found the knife?’ Matthew asks.

‘Your wife did.’ PC Lawson says.

‘I needed some flower pots to put some bulbs in,’ I explain. ‘It was in one of the big ones, wrapped in a tea towel.’

‘Do you recognise this tea towel?’ PC Thomas shows it to Matthew.

‘No, I’ve never seen it before.’

I give a nervous laugh. ‘That shows how often you

dry the dishes,’ I say, pretending I’m trying to break the tension. ‘We have one exactly like it. Rachel brought it back from New York for us.’

‘What about this knife, Mr Anderson?’ PC Thomas

says. ‘Have you seen it before?’

‘No.’ Matthew shakes his head firmly.





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‘I was just saying that it looks exactly like the one that I saw lying on the side that Sunday evening,’ I tell him earnestly.