To tell me he was leaving. In the silence, I feel reality shift further as her words sink in. I think back to Matt’s last call and what he said to me, to what David said, shaking my head again, confused. The woman’s story conflicts with mine, yet for reasons beyond my grasp, it is somehow more credible to the police.
‘Amy …’ PC Page hesitates. ‘The night he went missing, we’ve every reason to think he was meeting this woman. We’ve been going over CCTV footage – one section in particular, in which two men are seen entering a bar in the middle of Brighton. We’re fairly sure one of them is Matt.’
As she speaks, my stomach churns. ‘Do you know who the other one is?’ I hesitate, going on before she can answer. ‘I might know him. You should show me the image.’
‘We’re not a hundred per cent sure it is Matt, but for now, we’re working on the assumption that it is. The other man …’
‘He must be the American client Matt told me about,’ I interrupt. David must have been wrong. ‘This is proof, isn’t it?’
But when she pauses, I know there’s more. ‘I have another theory. According to the woman who contacted us, Matt had gone for a quick drink with one of his work colleagues, before coming out half an hour later and getting in a cab. We managed to get the vehicle registration and we’ve tracked down the driver, who dimly remembers taking a man to another part of Brighton – apparently he hadn’t any cash on him. I guess that would register with a taxi driver.’ She frowns at me. ‘A woman came out to meet him – it was she who paid the fare. The same woman who later told us he’d gone missing.’ She pauses. ‘I’m going to level with you. We both know that Matt’s been keeping things from you. From the evidence we have, I don’t think there’s any doubt he’s having a relationship with her.’
I stare at her, not wanting to believe her, as she goes on, more kindly. ‘Is there someone who could come and be with you? Family, or maybe a friend?’
‘There’s Jess, but I don’t want her to worry about me.’ Shaking my head, again I think of calling Sonia, devastated, hating how I have no privacy, that everyone knows the details of Matt’s betrayal – if that’s what this is, because even with the CCTV footage, the other woman’s photos, everything that David’s said, I’m in denial; unable to measure the implausible evidence of a stranger against the believable words of the man I love.
Chapter Seven
While PC Page appears convinced that she’s right, I’m filled with worry, the unfailing belief I had in Matt tinged with uncertainty, its stain slowly spreading, turning to disbelief shot with moments of hope that are all too fleeting. Her parting words haunt me. Matt’s been leading a double life.
Even with the evidence the police think they have, it’s impossible to know who to believe. Since that last time Matt and I spoke, I’ve held an image of him, walking back in, his eyes full of regret, with an explanation that will make everything OK again – until now. But then the words of the woman in Brighton come back to me. He isn’t who you think he is.
In bed, I send another email from my iPad to Matt’s parents. Please can you get in touch, here’s my mobile number. I need to speak to you, urgently. Unable to sleep, I’m haunted by images of Matt with a nameless, faceless woman, until eventually when I drift off, I dream I’m in a church. Sitting alone at the back, the darkness is broken only by flickering candlelight. Then as two ghostly figures glide past, somehow I’m watching our wedding take place. Recognising Matt, I feel my heart leap. Handsome in the suit we chose together, the woman beside him is me, wearing my beautiful, dusky dress, except as I look more closely, a sense of foreboding fills me, because everything’s wrong. The dress that I coveted has become blackened, the hem ripped, while my hair is tangled, my bare feet engrained with dirt. Then panic sets in, because my daughter is absent. Where’s Jess, I try to cry out. Jess has to be here … As I search the shadows for her, the church door bursts open, letting in a swirling wind that one by one extinguishes the candles, while Matt pushes back my tangled hair and lowers his lips to his bride’s. Seeing her face for the first time, a silent scream comes from me.
Sitting up in bed, my heart is pounding, my skin damp with sweat, the vision of my dream still horribly vivid, of the woman wearing my dress, of Matt kissing her, saying his vows to her, the scent of incense and mustiness from the church. Desperately trying to calm myself. It’s a dream, Amy. It isn’t real. But as my heart rate slows, the memory of PC Page’s visit comes back, and the reality of Matt’s betrayal hits me again, knocking the breath out of me.
While I watch the earliest light break the darkness, I think about how my life has become so far removed from what I thought it was. My future with Matt, our plans, all of them meaningless, our relationship a charade, while a churning desire to find this other woman fills me. I need to know her name, the colour of her hair, what she does, where she lives. But most of all, I need her to know what she’s done to me.
*
After a string of cold,
