Forget Her Name(51)

Double vision? And a cracking headache? I may have a concussion. I feel a trickle down my forehead, too. My wound appears to be bleeding again.

‘Hello?’ I call up again, even louder, though raising my voice makes the jagged ache in my head even worse.

Someone rattles the cellar door. Several times, unsuccessfully.

‘I’ve been locked in. You need to—’

Then I hear the key being turned, and the door opens. I stare up, shielding my eyes against the light.

‘Oh, thank God.’

‘You all right down there?’ A woman in a black uniform peers down at me. She seems vaguely familiar. ‘Hello, is that Catherine?’

I clutch onto the wooden banister, staring up at her, unable to answer. I feel sick.

‘What’s happened here? God, that looks nasty. Banged your head, did you?’ When I nod, putting a hand to my bloodied forehead, she turns to the man beside her. ‘I think you’d better call an ambulance, Constable.’

It’s the police.





Chapter Thirty-One

They came to see me about the wedding dress, Pauline explains as we wait in the living room for the ambulance.

‘We’ve only just had the lab report back,’ she says, trying to make me comfortable in a straight-backed leather armchair. ‘I know, I’m sorry about the delay.’ She makes a face. ‘Cuts, what can I tell you? And it wasn’t high priority, I’m afraid. Your husband gave us your new address when he contacted us last week. He was very keen to bring the investigation to a close. Again, I’m sorry it’s taken so long.’

‘That’s okay,’ I say.

I recall Pauline and Ahmed visiting the flat after the break-in, though it upset me so much to remember what happened to my lovely wedding dress, I’d tried not to think about it.

‘So what did the forensics report say?’

Pauline is at the window, looking out for the ambulance, so Ahmed replies. ‘Pig’s blood. No other DNA. Whoever did it used gloves, I expect.’ He shrugs. ‘Without other evidence, there’ll be no further action. We’re putting it down as a prank.’

I feel deflated, although I’m glad it’s not human blood. Still grisly, of course, but not actually murder.

But for something so horrible to be dismissed by the police as a mere prank . . .

Pauline comes back from the window and checks my head wound with careful, professional fingers. She notices my expression. ‘I’m sorry. I know that must be a disappointment. But it’s a good thing really. Someone messing you about, that’s all. Nothing more sinister. Destruction of property, of course. Breaking and entering too. But without further evidence . . .’ She smiles at me encouragingly. ‘Feeling better?’

‘Much, thank you.’

‘How did you get locked in the cellar, anyway?’

I hesitate.

I don’t know whether to tell them about Kasia or wait to speak to my parents first. Another prank, perhaps. And it’s possible Kasia didn’t realise I was hurt.

It’s also possible it wasn’t her.

I don’t want to start accusing people of things they didn’t do. Everyone is already so overprotective of me, I don’t want to give them any reason to think I’m not coping. Besides, the idea that anyone would have done this deliberately is absurd.

‘I thought I heard a cat . . . then I lost my footing.’ I manage a smile, though it’s hardly convincing. Not that they’ll be surprised by that. The double vision has abated since they helped me hop up the cellar stairs laboriously, but I’m still in pain and the dizziness has returned. ‘The cleaner must have seen the door open and locked it. A stupid accident. That’s all.’

‘Right.’ Pauline studies me thoughtfully. ‘And where is this cleaner now?’

‘Kasia?’ Uneasy under her searching gaze, I look away. ‘I’m not sure. I shouted for her, but she didn’t seem to hear me.’

‘And your parents?’

‘Out.’

Ahmed has been glancing through his notebook, but stirs at this, instantly helpful and smiling. ‘You want me to give them a ring? Let them know you’re hurt?’

‘No, I’ll be fine.’

The constable nods, though I can see he’s curious. He glances about the room, taking in the elegance of his surroundings. ‘Perhaps your husband then.’ He checks his notebook. ‘Dominic.’

I say nothing, feeling dizzy.

‘Have a sip of this, you don’t look so good.’ Pauline hands me the glass of water she sent Ahmed to fetch and which I haven’t touched yet. ‘I think we should call him, don’t you?’

‘I didn’t even know Dominic had been in touch with you.’

‘Well, there you go. Keeping secrets already.’ She smiles, as though to show that she’s only joking. But I don’t find it very amusing. ‘How’s your head?’

‘Still throbbing.’

Ahmed glances past her out of the window. ‘Here’s the ambulance now.’ He heads for the door. ‘I’ll let them know where we are.’

At that moment, there’s a commotion at the door.

It’s my mother, home from her shopping expedition. I hear her voice, high-pitched and worried, thrown by the unexpected discovery of a policeman in her house. ‘What on earth . . . ? What’s happened? Has there been a burglary?’