I nod, looking at the vase of parrot tulips, their soft petals shades of pale green tinged with terracotta, their stems uneven lengths, their heads snaking in different directions. Then my gaze drifts back towards the window. ‘I’ve been growing our wedding flowers. They’re still out there. White narcissi and hyacinths.’ I’d planned to mix them with rosemary, eucalyptus, silver pine. Thinking of the day that’s never going to happen, my eyes fill with more tears, while as if in a trance, I get up and go over to the doors, sliding them open and stepping outside.
‘Amy, you’re not wearing anything on your feet.’
Sonia’s voice goes over my head as I start walking, anger rising in me, at Matt, at this other woman, whoever she is. Oblivious to the damp soaking through my socks, to the fog that envelops me, soaking into my clothes, clinging to my hair, her cries float past me as my emotions reach tipping point. Reaching the polytunnel, I go to the flower pots where stems of narcissi are in bud, one by one ripping them out, emptying the pots onto the floor, before starting on the hyacinths. Slowly at first, my anger builds as I move faster, more brutally, my hands cold, covered in damp earth as I hurl the broken stems onto the ground around me, followed by the flower pots, hearing them shatter; ignoring Sonia until I feel her hand on my arm. ‘Amy, you should stop … You’ll regret this.’
But I wrench my arm away, keeping going until every last flower has been torn up. Turning around, I glance at the mess of snapped stems and broken terracotta; at my socks covered in soil, then I look at Sonia. ‘This is how it feels,’ I whisper fiercely, as at last my anger starts to abate. ‘Like this.’ I gesture towards the dead flowers. ‘This is what Matt has done to me.’
Chapter Eight
Eventually, after picking up the smashed flower pots, I collect up the rest and leave it to rot on the compost heap. But I leave the broken flowers where they are until the following morning. As I walk back towards the house, a flashing blue light reflects through the mist. A feeling of foreboding fills me. The police, again. It must be Matt.
But when I go through the gate to the front of the house, I’m shocked to see an ambulance parked further up the road outside Mrs Guthrie’s house. Guiltily, I realise I haven’t seen her for a few days. Too wrapped up in my own problems, I haven’t given her more than a passing thought. Hoping she hasn’t had a fall, I start walking towards the ambulance, but then her daughter’s car speeds past, before pulling in and parking just behind it.
As the paramedics disappear through the garden gate, knowing her daughter is there, I turn back, steeling myself to call Lara, the wedding organiser. There’s no way the wedding can go ahead.
‘Would you like me to contact everyone?’ Lara has all the guests’ details.
‘Would you?’ Relief fills me. I’d dreaded having to send emails and field responses.
‘I needn’t say too much. Just that for unforeseen reasons, the wedding isn’t going to go ahead.’ Her voice is quiet, but matter of fact.
‘OK.’
‘I’ll call the venue and let them know, if you like. Unless you want to?’
It feels unfair to put it all on her, but she genuinely sounds as though she doesn’t mind. ‘Not really. I never imagined doing any of this.’
*
Embarrassed about my behaviour while Sonia was here, I text her, putting off the appointment she’d persuaded me to keep till later in the week. Shortly after, Pete texts me, asking if there’s news. I text him back. If the police are right, it sounds as though Matt’s been fooling all of us. He calls me back immediately.
‘What’s going on? Are you OK?’
‘Not really. Matt …’ I break off, but then because he was going to be Matt’s best man, I tell him. ‘Apparently Matt’s been having an affair. When the woman he was seeing reported him missing, she told the police he was about to leave me for her.’
There’s silence. ‘You’re kidding.’ Pete sounds stunned. ‘You’re sure about this? Of course, you must be. I mean … How did I not know?’
‘I’ve asked myself the same question. But the police seem to think they have proof.’
He sounds shocked. ‘Oh, Amy …’
I pause, knowing I need to ask him. ‘You really didn’t know anything was wrong?’
‘Apart from the times he changed plans at the last minute, no. We’d arranged to meet to talk about the speeches etc. But he’s a busy guy. It’s only the fact that the wedding was so close that I thought anything of it, because we were running out of time. But apart from that, there really was nothing.’
Then I remember. ‘The police asked for your mobile number.’
‘They haven’t called me yet. And I’m not sure I can tell them anything.’
‘Can you let them know how surprised you are, too? They don’t seem to believe that I couldn’t have known.’
*
After a couple of hours, when I next glance outside, the ambulance has gone. It isn’t until PC Page calls me the following day that I find out more.
‘I’m not sure if you know, but your neighbour was found dead yesterday. It
