‘Rupert, I need to talk to you.’ I pass him a glass of the good red that he keeps in the basement, hoping to soften him up a little.
‘About your hare-brained theory?’ He snatches the glass out of my hand. ‘Sadie called me at work. She told me what you said. She’s worried about you.’
‘What? I told her not to say anything!’ The bitter sting of deception makes my eyes smart. ‘I wanted to talk to you about it myself.’
‘About the way you think Caro is still alive?’ Throwing back the wine, seemingly without even tasting it, Rupert pours himself another leaving my glass empty. ‘Jesus, Em, I don’t know what to say to you.’
‘But it’s a possibility,’ I cry, tugging at his sleeve as he turns to leave the room. ‘Don’t you agree? They never found Caro’s body… what’s to say that she isn’t still alive? She could be doing all of this to scare me off, to get rid of me.’ Desperation claws at my throat and I swallow, trying to get rid of the lump there.
‘She’s dead, Emily,’ Rupert roars, spittle flying in my face, and I jump back in fright, my heart hammering in my chest. I think for a moment he’s going to hit me – the image of Harry flying at me, the way he pulled me naked and crying from his bed, throwing me to the floor, as fresh in my mind as if it had happened yesterday – and I raise my hand to ward him off. Rupert slumps against the wall, rubbing his hand over his face. ‘She’s dead, Em. I know she’s dead. She walked out of that party and she drove to the bridge and she threw herself into the water. And I let her go. Please. Can you just stop now? I can’t take any more of this.’
I watch him walk slowly up the stairs, his feet dragging, and his shoulders hunched and rounded and feel a hot spurt of shame. I did this to him. I reach for my scarf and coat, and tug open the front door, stepping out onto a mess of blood and guts. Another dead bird. Only this one has a note attached to it. It reads,
BITCH
Chapter Twenty-Six
In the morning, in a rare twist, Emily is up before him and Rupert comes downstairs to hot coffee and a bacon roll, even though it is barely seven o’clock. He kisses her on the cheek and smiles his thanks, even though he’s not sure his stomach can take bacon at such an early hour.
‘Will you be home for dinner?’ Emily asks, her hands knotted together in front of her. Her knuckles are white, and Rupert can see the way her wedding ring digs into her finger.
‘I’ll try.’ Rupert stoops to pick up his briefcase, as Emily lays a hand on his arm.
‘It would be nice,’ she says hesitantly. ‘I’m sorry for what I said last night. I know I hurt you, but I really didn’t mean to. Rupert, I’d be devastated if things went wrong between us.’
Rupert stops fiddling with his tie for a moment, not sure how to respond. ‘I know. I probably overreacted, but honestly, Em, you need to stop this, OK?’ His eyes search her face, but she looks down, scrubbing at something stuck onto the table. ‘Em, I mean it. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I can’t deal with all this stuff you keep raking up. Caro is dead. Please, can we just focus on us?’
Emily finally looks at him, her face pale and her eyes ringed with dark circles where she hasn’t slept. Rupert feels an unshakeable sense of déjà vu, as he manages to lean down and peck Emily on her pale, cold cheek.
‘I’ll call you later, let you know about dinner.’ He picks up his briefcase and dashes for the front door, as if trying to outrun the claustrophobic feeling that he has been here before. That, despite his best efforts, things with Emily are going much the way they went with Caro. That this second chance to get things right, to get things exactly as he wanted them to be, is all going horribly wrong.
There is a knock at Rupert’s office door a little before lunchtime, and his heart sinks as Sadie is shown in by his secretary. Much as he loves Sadie, he knows that she is only here today to talk about the events of yesterday, about Emily’s revelation, and if he’s honest, he just wants to get on with his work and forget about it all for a few hours.
‘Darling, how are things?’ Sadie looks concerned, but Rupert notices how she arranges herself artfully in the chair across from him so that her legs are on full display, in typical Sadie fashion.
‘Fine,’ he says, shortly. ‘I’m quite busy, though, Sadie, so if that was all you wanted…’
‘Oh Rupert,’ she sighs, ‘can’t you even spare me five minutes? I just wanted to check in on you, that’s all. I’ll probably go and see Emily later as well, just to make sure she’s OK. She was terribly worked up yesterday when I left her.’
‘I’m sure she was,’ Rupert sighs, putting his pen down. He won’t get anything done now until Sadie leaves.
‘It must have been a terrible shock, Emily coming out with something like that. Are you sure you’re OK, Rupert? You look dreadful.’ Flirty Sadie is gone, now it’s just his old university friend in front of him and Rupert feels himself relax.
‘Oh God, Sadie, I don’t
