The Dead Ex(39)

So my solicitor is a bit of a maverick who isn’t afraid of doing things differently! In one way I’m flattered that she’s fighting my corner. In another, I’m nervous.

Penny looks unrepentant. ‘This diary merely expresses the views of my client at a time when she was under stress. It would not, in my belief, stand up in law as definitive proof of complicity in Mr Goudman’s disappearance.’

Inspector Vine bristles. ‘That’s a matter of opinion. What about the photograph of your client with the victim, taken shortly before he disappeared? She told me that she hadn’t seen him since 2013 and couldn’t apparently remember being there.’

The victim?

He hands over a brown envelope. My solicitor seems to take an age studying it. Then she looks at me. ‘Is that right, Vicki?’

I feel myself burning. ‘OK.’ I swallow hard. ‘I did go to London …’

The detective slaps his knees. ‘I knew it!’

‘I’d … I’d missed David. I know he behaved badly but … well, he left this hole in my heart. It’s like he still had this hold over me …’

There’s another scoffing noise from the detective, which I try to ignore.

‘So I went to some of the places we used to go to together, like this restaurant near the Tate. And then I saw him through the window.’

‘So you went in to see him?’

‘No.’ I am hot with embarrassment. I can feel the heat rising to my face. ‘He came out to tell me to stop following him.’

‘You had an argument?’

‘Yes. Of course we had a bloody argument.’

Penny puts her hand on my arm as my voice rises in distress.

The detective is looking triumphant. ‘Then why didn’t you tell me before, instead of lying?’

I try to keep my voice level. ‘I felt embarrassed and I … well, I thought it would make me look guilty.’

‘I’d say so.’

‘But it’s still not proof that she had anything to do with David Goudman’s disappearance.’ My solicitor’s voice is calm but firm. ‘Besides, I gather that Vicki has already voiced her opinion that Mr Goudman may simply be away on a business trip.’

‘Then why wouldn’t his wife know?’

I can’t not interrupt. ‘I told you before. He often went off when we were married.’

My solicitor lays a hand on my arm again. Just briefly, as if to indicate that I shouldn’t be too aggressive. ‘My client’s ex-husband appears to have had some questionable business practices,’ she says.

‘That doesn’t mean we can dismiss his disappearance.’

‘Of course not. But there may be a valid explanation for it.’

‘What about the stalking?’

‘I gather from the notes that my client has already explained she was merely in the vicinity of her ex-husband’s house at the end of last year in order to see her doctor.’

‘And the phone calls she kept making to her ex-husband after they broke up. Would you say that’s not stalking either?’

‘Actually, I’d call it the sign of a woman who’d been bruised after a divorce.’ My solicitor’s voice is brisk, yet there is a part which indicates personal empathy. For some reason, I get the feeling that she has been hurt too. There’s no wedding ring on her left hand, although that doesn’t mean anything nowadays. ‘I would suggest that unless you can come up with a stronger case against my client, you should release Mrs Goudman immediately.’

He is shaking his head. ‘You’re making a mistake here, Pen.’

The familiar diminutive suggests they know each other.

‘I don’t think so.’

Then I hear him mutter something under his breath. It sounds like ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

Great. So my solicitor’s made a mistake in the past. But right now they’re both missing something. ‘Where is David?’ My voice is full of anguish. ‘What if he hasn’t gone on a trip? Supposing he has been hurt? Why can’t you find out exactly what’s happened?’

I’m aware that I sound like a worried wife rather than an ex. But the truth is that I do still care.

I can still feel him touching me. Kissing me. Telling me, before it all went wrong, that I was the most amazing, unique woman he had ever been with. Despite everything, it’s hard to get that out of my head. A court can dissolve a marriage. But it can’t do the same to the heart. After all, there were plenty of good times.

‘I’m sure the police are doing what they can,’ says my solicitor as she gets up, indicating that I should do the same.

Inspector Vine and his chin stand between me and the door. ‘I fully expect to see you again, Mrs Goudman.’

‘That sounds like intimidation, Inspector.’

‘Just making our position clear.’

Outside the police station I gulp in the air, despite the fumes of the passing traffic. Penny Brookes appears to do the same. Then she shakes my hand. ‘Go home,’ she says. ‘Look after yourself. Let me know if there are any more developments.’

‘What do I owe you?’

‘Nothing. It’s what we call a pro bono. We take on a certain number every year.’