Jake got up and saw them out. I’d betrayed Amy, and it left a bitter taste in my mouth. I held my breath until I heard their car pull away.
‘You did the right thing, Izzy. At least this way, they have the full picture.’
I tried not to look at Jake. I felt bad for throwing myself at him, but I was equally annoyed that he had pushed me off. Now the police had left and my heartbeat was returning to normal, my embarrassment had started to creep back. I just wanted to get him out of there.
He, on the other hand, seemed to be stalling. I could tell he wanted to do the ‘hey, listen, about last night’ talk, but didn’t know how to begin. Well, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
I did a theatrical yawn. ‘I think I’m going to make it an early night,’ I said, getting up from the table.
He hesitated for a moment and then stood up too. ‘Right, yes, I suppose it is getting late.’
I willed him to say something – to say it wasn’t my fault, or that he regretted turning me down. Anything to make me feel better. Something to prove that I hadn’t imagined our connection – that it wasn’t just all in my head.
He looked down at his shoes. ‘So, I guess it’s just a waiting game, now. If you need anything else, you know where I am.’
I opened the door. ‘Indeed. Well, goodnight then.’
He stepped past me, and for a moment, we were facing each other in the narrow space between the counter and doorframe. He paused there. Was he going to kiss me? There was something about his lips, the soft curve of his cupid’s bow. I realised I was staring at his mouth, and quickly looked away.
‘Goodnight,’ he mumbled, bottling it.
He hadn’t reached the yard gate before I’d slammed the front door shut.
I was angry with myself. I’d clearly misread Jake’s intentions and I had to get over it. Anyway, why was I even thinking about men when my sister had quite possibly been murdered, and I’d just given the police reason to think that her husband had quite possibly been the one who had done it? I shuddered. I hoped I’d done the right thing.
Could Mike have done it? It would have been easy for him to slip something into Amy’s drink that evening, and he had access to her car. Would he have known how to loosen a wheel? Was that something you could learn on YouTube? And how could he have convinced her to drive afterwards?
I poured a vodka, telling myself I would stop at one. I called it a night after my third, climbing wearily into my cold bed, the lullaby of distant waves singing me to sleep.
The feeling of unease after my chat with the police lasted for days afterwards, a disquiet that I couldn’t shake. I was still jumpy after I’d collected Betsy from school on Friday afternoon. The cottage landline rang, and the man’s voice on the line startled me – I thought I’d only given the number to Mum. Why did it feel like I was in some kind of trouble? But it was just Richard, calling to check how Betsy was doing after her suspension.
There had been no major injuries, nothing and nobody broken, and only a few tears – on both our parts – so I considered it an overall success. Sure, she’d been bored, but for the most part she had been that calm and sweet girl that I loved. At that moment she was sprawled across my living room floor, in what had become her go-to position for doing her homework. Looking at her, I saw flickers of Amy. I could watch her all day.
Betsy’s form teacher had recommended a child psychiatrist and Richard wanted to explain to me and Mike what we should expect from the sessions. He suggested stopping by on his way home from school to discuss it with me in more detail.
I glanced absentmindedly at the clock on the kitchen wall. Mike had a work thing that evening, so Mum and Auntie Sue were having the kids for tea, giving me a night off. Meeting Betsy’s headteacher to talk about her emotional well-being didn’t sound like the most fun way to spend a Friday night, but it did feel like something a responsible co-guardian would do. Besides, I was still curious about how close Richard and Amy had really been.
As Betsy and I walked over to Mum’s, I daydreamed about what I should be planning for my weekend: a Friday night after-work blow-out, followed by a Saturday morning of penance in the gym, perhaps coffee or lunch with a friend, then maybe a blow-dry or facial to sort me out before doing it all over again that night. If it was nice weather, we might even spend Sunday at the beach, or out on the water. Chiara knew a lot of guys with boats, and there was always someone willing to welcome us aboard.
I sighed. Hong Kong didn’t just feel like the other side of the world, it felt a lifetime away.
Auntie Sue made a pot of tea and brought out fresh scones. She said Mum was upstairs, cleansing her chakras – I caught her eye and we shared a giggle. Lucas burst in, excitedly describing what he was planning on making for dinner. Auntie Sue nodded slowly, nervously biting her lip as he checked off a list of ingredients he would need. Hannah was quiet as usual, but there was something different about her.
‘Are you OK, sweetie?’ I asked her.
She nodded in response, but I knew something was wrong. Maybe it was my maternal instinct finally kicking in, but I could see she was carrying an even bigger burden than usual, and I had just the technique for getting her to open up.
I said my
