I take a step back, unnerved by how quickly Rupert has lost his temper. We’ve gone from pressed against one another, heat drawing us together, to icy cold within a few seconds. I’ve never seen him like this before; he’s always calm and laidback, nothing ever really seems to faze him. A thought flashes through my mind that maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.
‘I’m sorry!’ I almost shout the words, splaying my hands in a gesture of apology. Adrenaline makes my legs feel wobbly as I am back there in an instant, and it’s Harry’s voice I hear shouting at me, just before he lays his hands on me, leaving big, purple bruises on the pale skin of my arms. I draw in a ragged breath, trying to compose myself. This is Rupert, not Harry. ‘I’m sorry, OK? But Rupert, if you didn’t put the picture up there and I didn’t put that picture up there, then who did?’
Rupert stares down at Caro’s face and I am unsettled by the look that crosses his face as he takes in Caro’s features as if recommitting them to memory. ‘I don’t know. Didn’t you say Anya came today? Maybe she put it up?’
‘No. That’s just it.’ Exhausted, I sink into the huge, squashy armchair. ‘I don’t think she did come today. Amanda said she thought she saw someone leaving at lunchtime and assumed it was her, around the time I was about to crack Sadie’s head open with a poker. But if she did work today, then why were your clothes still left all over the floor when I came home?’ I scrub my hands tiredly over my face. Any good feeling from our evening out has been washed away in a tide of mistrust and anxiety, and I feel the irresistible urge to fight to get it back.
‘Maybe she had to leave suddenly?’ Rupert frowns. ‘I don’t know, Emily. But I swear to you that I didn’t put that picture up there.’
‘What if it wasn’t Anya? What if someone else did get in the house? Because someone put it up, Rupert. I found a lipstick on the bedside table today… and it matches that shade.’ I can feel a mildly hysterical note creeping into my voice as I gesture towards Caro’s face, trying to push away the panic at the thought of someone breaking into the house, while at the same time I feel an overwhelming sense of relief that I wasn’t imagining things.
‘A lipstick?’ Rupert looks confused. ‘It probably is Caro’s; she did live here.’
There is something sharp underlying his tone and I have to blink hard, his words pricking my skin like tiny darts. ‘I know that, Rupert, believe me I am fully aware of how Caro lived in this house before me, but I still feel as though someone was in the house.’ I can’t help the bitter note that sours my tongue, my words coming out with a serrated edge.
‘Please, Emily, not this again.’ Rupert lays the photo down on the coffee table and comes to sit beside me. ‘Em, I’ve told you there’s nothing to worry about. Have you had anything else come to the house? Letters, texts, anything at all?’
I shake my head, avoiding his gaze. ‘No. But that doesn’t mean…’
‘It does, Emily,’ Rupert says softly. ‘No one wants to ruin things between us. I hate to say it, but you are being a bit paranoid – I went through all of this with Caro and I don’t think I can do it again, do you understand?’
‘What are you saying,’ I turn to face him, a sick feeling building in my stomach, ‘that you’ll leave me?’
‘What? No, Emily, God, no.’ He takes my hands in his, his palms warm against my icy fingers. ‘I think you’re a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. I think you had a tough time with Harry, you told me that yourself, that he was violent towards you, that he threatened you, and I think maybe you’re anxious now that you’re finally happy, that someone will find some way to ruin it. I promise you, they won’t.’
‘That doesn’t explain how Caro’s photograph suddenly appeared on the mantelpiece though, does it?’ Rupert’s hand is stroking my hair and I have to fight down the urge to wriggle away from his touch. I can’t help feeling as though he is trivialising this. This isn’t about Harry; this is about us.
‘Well, who else was here today, who could have done it?’
‘Only Sadie and Amanda,’ I say, quietly. ‘They both came over for lunch, after the yoga class. That’s when Amanda said she thought she saw Anya leaving.’
‘Well,’ Rupert gets to his feet, picking up the photo frame. ‘It definitely wouldn’t be either of them.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘What?’
‘Are you sure? That neither Sadie nor Amanda would have put that photograph on display? Because at the end of the day, Rupert, between the letter calling me a bitch and this – not to mention someone changing our wedding song – it feels as though someone is trying to come between us. Why not one of them? Sadie was Caro’s best friend, and Amanda was her sister-in-law.’
‘Out of the question,’ Rupert says, and there is a hint of finality in his tone, ‘you’re being ridiculous, Emily. Sadie was Caro’s best friend, now she’s yours. Amanda was Caro’s sister-in-law, and now she’s yours. No one is trying to come between us; the only thing that’s going to come between us is you thinking that everyone is out to get us.’
I say nothing, blinking back hot tears as I try to process Rupert’s words. His reaction is not what I was expecting, and I don’t know how to respond. In the end, once I am sure I have my tears
