Forget Her Name(23)

I say nothing, but lace my fingers with his.

Pauline takes us briefly through a witness statement. First she suggests what we should say and then scribbles our responses on her clipboard. When she’s written down all the details, she reads out the finished statement and asks us to confirm it’s correct. I sign first, then Dominic.

‘That’s about all we need at this stage,’ she tells us briskly. ‘We’ll check if there are any CCTV cameras covering the back of the building, and let you know if we find anything.’

Ahmed strips off his gloves and pushes them into his pocket. He smiles reassuringly as he shakes both our hands. ‘Good to meet you. And good luck with the wedding.’

‘Thanks,’ Dominic says, grinning.

The sergeant’s radio crackles with another call-out. Pauline turns away to speak into it briefly, then comes back into the room.

‘Okay, we have to leave urgently, I’m afraid. But someone will be back in touch soon.’ She nods to Ahmed, then smiles at me. ‘It’s a real shame about your wedding dress. But it could have been worse. A dress isn’t a person; you can always replace it. All the same, I’d seriously suggest fixing the lock on that bathroom window as soon as possible. Crime prevention, yeah?’

On his way out, Ahmed hands me a police incident reference number in case I need it for insurance purposes.

Dominic cuddles me in silence for a few minutes after they’ve gone. His strong arms feel comforting and familiar. But it’s going to take more than a hug to wipe out the memory of what happened to my wedding dress.

‘It’s finished now, okay?’ Dominic peers into my face. ‘I don’t want you to fret about this. That policewoman was right. It was horrible to come home to, but I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a one-off.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘I see all sorts of wacky shit at the hospital. This isn’t so crazy. People can behave very strangely when they get an idea in their heads.’

‘But what idea has someone got about me?’

‘Christ knows.’ He squeezes me tight. ‘There’s probably no logical explanation. Don’t get hung up on it.’

‘And why wouldn’t they dust for prints?’

‘You heard what she said. Nothing was taken. Nobody was hurt. It wasn’t a high enough priority. And they got a call to go elsewhere.’ Dominic makes a face. ‘Policing is like nursing. It’s a high-pressure job, you’re constantly reacting to circumstances, and some things will automatically take precedence over others.’

‘But there was someone here, for God’s sake. In our flat.’

‘I know, and I’m angry about it too.’ He shrugs. ‘It’s not a reflection on how upset it made you, babe. That’s just the way things go sometimes. The police made a judgement call based on the evidence to hand. Enough said.’

Staring into the bedroom, I shudder. I’ll have to lie down on that bed tonight, knowing that our flat has been invaded, my privacy violated by some crazy person or persons. How can I even think of sleeping here? It’s too horrific.

‘I could have been attacked if I’d been in the flat at the time. Do you realise that?’

‘But you weren’t.’

‘I need to change the bedding,’ I mutter, and pull away from him. ‘We can’t sleep under that duvet cover tonight.’

‘Good idea. I’ll find a fresh cover.’

‘There should be one in the airing cupboard. Bring a clean sheet too. And matching pillowcases, if you can find them.’

I strip off the duvet cover with loathing, then the sheet and pillowcases, and carry them in a bundle to the washing machine. It’s late, but I put the machine on anyway, then wash my hands thoroughly with soap and hot water.

By the time I return from the kitchen, Dominic is already making up the bed again with clean linen, his movements deft and professional, as though he’s at work.

‘What if the police are wrong,’ I ask, leaning against the door frame to watch him, ‘and whoever did it comes back for another go? Only next time they take a pair of scissors to me, instead of my clothes?’

‘Not going to happen, baby.’

‘Easy for you to say. You’re rarely here on your own. And you’re a man. I’m no weakling, but I’m not exactly built to defend myself against crazies, either. It didn’t seem like the police cared about that.’

‘There is another possibility, of course.’

I take a deep breath. ‘Go on.’

‘Maybe,’ Dominic says carefully, bending to smooth out creases in the bottom sheet, ‘the police didn’t bother taking it seriously because they think one of us did it.’

‘One of us?’ I repeat blankly.

‘I just got that feeling at the end there, didn’t you? Like they felt this could be a domestic. Rather than a break-in by a third party.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Why on earth would I cut up my own wedding dress? I only just bought it. And you weren’t even here. They can’t have thought that, surely?’ I groan, a sudden realisation hitting me. ‘It’s going to cost a fortune to replace the dress. And at such short notice too. The wedding’s less than three weeks away.’

‘Then we’ll make a claim on the contents insurance,’ he says, and shakes out the duvet to fill the cover properly.