‘Maybe he forgot to tell you.’ Lara tries to sound reassuring, but there’s an edge of uncertainty in her voice. ‘But basically, if the wedding’s cancelled at the last minute, everything’s covered.’
Any relief I might feel that the costs are covered is outweighed by the fact that Matt didn’t tell me. It’s impossible to ignore the glimmer of suspicion that creeps into my head. He must have done it, because something had changed. Had he already decided our wedding wasn’t going ahead? I can’t think of any other reason why he wouldn’t have told me.
After speaking to Lara, I remember I haven’t told her the police asked for her mobile number. But needing to clear my head, I pull on my coat, close the front door behind me, and instead of heading for the Downs, walk the other way, towards Steyning. The air is still, pale streaks of light filtering through the clouds, lifting the gloom. Either side of me, banks of russet-coloured bracken edge the lane, behind them trees, their stark branches meeting overhead. It’s the kind of evening that I would normally breathe in, savouring the scent of damp earth, the turn of autumn to winter, listening to the dusk song of the blackbird perched nearby. But tonight, I barely notice.
As I walk, denial holds me in its grip. Even after what Lara told me about insuring the wedding, I don’t want to believe that Matt’s been deceiving me. Closer to the village, the lane slopes more steeply and I turn back, not wanting to run the risk of seeing anyone I know, asking questions I can’t answer. Easier, for now, to be alone.
By the time I get back to the house, through the dusk, I make out a shadowy figure near the door. Fleetingly imagining it’s Matt, my heart instinctively leaps. But if it was him, he wouldn’t be standing there – he’d be inside. Only then do I see the police car, recognise PC Page waiting for me.
‘Sorry to drop in like this.’ In the dim glow of the outside light, her face is clouded. ‘Do you mind if I come in? There are one or two things I’d like to talk to you about.’
I nod, my fingers clumsy as I fumble with my key. ‘Of course.’ But I know the police don’t turn up unannounced with good news. Inside, my stomach churns as I anticipate the worst.
Jess
Matt came into our lives on a day of burnished copper leaves and an autumn breeze scented with wood smoke; in one of those before and after moments life is filled with. My mother and I walking up the village High Street, past the characterful shopfronts and the pub where people were spilling out onto the pavement, our lives as they’d been for as long as I could remember. My mother in skinny jeans and a silky black top, me in boots and a short red dress.
We were on our way to my friend Sasha’s parents’ annual party, with live music and a barbecue in the grounds of their house. Up a narrow lane in the village, a wooden door in a flint wall opened into their front garden. I remember the roses growing up the house that were still in flower, their scent mingling with that of the smoke; the neatly mown lawn, its single apple tree heavy with fruit, the front door open, so that sounds from the party drifted outside.
All of those moments belonged to before. As we went inside, making our way through to the big kitchen, a throng of people milled. I watched a man glance towards my mother, a curious expression crossing his face, almost as if he was waiting for her. Then I saw their eyes meet. Felt that moment in my bones when before became after.
I couldn’t have known, but after that, nothing would ever be the same. From the start, he unnerved me. It was the way his eyes cruised restlessly, hovering on other women, until they came to rest on my mother.
He was too contrived, too watchful. I was sure he was playing a game. When he made his way over to her, I watched her body language, defensive at first, slightly awkward; his persistence, her defences slowly being eroded; her face growing more animated as he leaned in closer. There was an expression in her eyes I hadn’t seen before. A look in his, as he turned round and his eyes locked with mine, hostile, challenging me; holding my gaze for several seconds, before deliberately smiling. There was no question he knew who I was, that this man was playing a game with both of us.
‘Who’s that?’ I whispered to Sasha, as soon as I had the chance.
‘How should I know? Why?’
‘He’s flirting with my mother.’
Sasha looked at me as though I was missing something. ‘That’s good, isn’t it? I mean, you’re going to uni soon. Wouldn’t it be good if she met someone?’
‘Yes.’ I wanted my mother to find someone. But he reminded me of a cat prowling, toying with its prey, reeling it in, before pouncing.
Amy
Chapter Six
I’m on edge as PC Page follows me through to the kitchen, where I take off my coat and hang it over the back of one of the chairs, before going to close the curtains. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. Would you like tea? Have a seat.’ Putting off the moment I know is coming, I nod towards the table.
‘No – thanks.’ Pulling out one of the chairs and sitting down, she looks at me. ‘Amy … why don’t you sit down?’
I tense, as fear gets the better of me. It’s
