‘I’m fine – better than fine. I have to pop out for a while though, I just have to ring someone…’
‘What? Why? Who do you need to call so urgently?’ Frustration fizzed in his voice. I cupped his shoulders in my hands and looked him in the eye, pleading for him to understand.
‘I told you, I’m getting closer to the truth. I’m nearly there…’
‘Please – you need to stop this. Please.’
‘I’ll only be gone for a few minutes – I’ll tell everyone I forgot something at home.’
‘We’re about to eat dinner! Jake is here! You’re supposed to be making up with Mike!’ Adam’s hands were balled into fists by his sides and I knew that I was wearing his patience down to breaking point.
‘This is important, OK? Just don’t say anything. I’ll be back before you know it.’
Auntie Sue was helping Lucas to serve dinner, passing out steaming bowls of porridge risotto.
‘I have to run home,’ I blurted out. ‘I think I’ve left a candle burning.’
I carefully avoided Adam’s glare and focused on Jake, giving him a forced smile. Rachel shrugged reluctantly, shaking her head. It reminded me of the shrug that Amy used to give whenever someone disappointed her. Only, I wouldn’t let Amy down this time.
From the corner of my eye, I could see the others exchanging raised eyebrows. But I didn’t care what anyone thought – we would all know the truth before too long.
‘I’ll come straight back – fifteen minutes, tops.’
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Jake asked.
‘No, no – please stay. Enjoy dinner. I’ll eat mine later,’ I said as I pulled on my jacket. ‘Sorry, everyone – be right back.’
I trotted down the hall and pulled the door closed before anyone had a chance to try and stop me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was a quiet evening, and the hollow crash of waves sang the familiar song of the tide on its way out. A solitary gull circled high above the harbour, tracking a returning fishing boat. The sun hung low, slowly dipping towards the hills. I walked as fast as I could.
I checked my watch – 7.25 p.m. I could get home, call Jennifer and be back at Amy’s by 7.40 p.m. My hands were shaking, and I stuffed them deeper into my pockets. I wouldn’t confront Mike with his lies tonight – I wouldn’t confront him at all, but I would do my best to make sure I was there when he got arrested. I wanted to see the look on his face.
I hurried down Cedar Road and turned onto Swallow Street. From an open window on the back lane came the noises of dinner time – the scrape of a knife on a plate and the low murmur of table conversation. A ginger cat was lying on my neighbour’s wall, basking in the dying light of the day.
The familiar scent of firewood greeted me as I opened the door to Puffin Cottage – my sanctuary. I locked the door behind me and didn’t even take off my jacket before dialling Jennifer’s number. My finger hovered over the call button, trembling. My heart was fluttering – I needed the sea to help me stay calm. I walked up the stairs, gripping the banister tightly, not trusting my legs to get me there. I sat down on my bed and fixed my gaze on the horizon just as Jennifer answered.
‘Thanks for calling me back. I thought it was better to speak on the phone than tell you this by text.’
The sky was streaked with shades of gold and pink. I focused on the horizon, steadying myself. Deep breaths. The line crackled.
‘Hello, Izzy? Are you there?’
Bad energy out, good energy in.
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘It’s just – this is really bizarre, but the guest who stayed here with Mike Sanders was his wife. It was Amy Sanders.’
I had been holding my breath and I choked on it now, coughing and spluttering.
‘What? How? That can’t be…’
Amy had been there with Mike? But why had she highlighted the dates on his credit card statements and hidden them away? Why had he admitted to having an affair? And there was the woman in Newcastle…
This wasn’t making any sense.
‘There’s some mistake – it must have been someone pretending to be Amy.’
‘I did consider that.’ Jennifer was chewing on something – a pen perhaps.
It couldn’t be right. Mike must have done something to cover his tracks. But how?
Jennifer sighed. ‘I even pulled up the CCTV footage of them checking in together and showed it to Mum. She thinks it’s Amy…’
‘What does that mean, thinks it’s Amy? She isn’t certain?’
‘The picture is grainy, and Mum’s eyesight isn’t the best.’
‘But she couldn’t say for certain? It could have been someone else?’ There was a frantic edge to my voice.
‘Well if it isn’t Amy, it’s someone who looks a lot like her.’
I froze.
‘Someone who looks like Amy…’ I mumbled.
Someone who looked so much like Amy they could almost be sisters.
When I spoke again, my voice was nothing more than a croak.
‘Could you email me the picture, please? Just so I can see it for myself?’
My pulse was pounding in my ears. I hung up on Jennifer and stared out to the sea, watching the rolling waves growing darker in the dying light.
A ping told me that her email had arrived. I clicked on the attachment and the picture started to download. It was agonisingly slow and I had to remind myself to breathe.
And there it was – grainy, but unmistakable. Mike, at the reception desk of the hotel I knew as The Stables. An overnight bag slung over his shoulder, a credit card in one hand and his other arm around… Rachel.
I zoomed in, squinting at the image, trying to see beyond the blur. Someone who didn’t know Rachel as well as I did could look at this picture and see Amy. After all, plenty of people remarked on how alike they were.
It
