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, clear days, the weather changes suddenly, dense fog suspending the landscape in a half-light. Not bothering with a shower or make-up, I pull on yesterday’s jeans and an oversized jumper, slipping on my boots before going outside.
The air is clammy, claustrophobic, my vision restricted to a few feet in front of me. There are orders I need to begin prepping, work that each day I’m getting more behind with, but I can’t face it. Nor do I want to talk to anyone, replying to Jess’s WhatsApp with the briefest of messages, letting even Cath’s calls go to voicemail. In the end, I give up, making my way back to the house through the same fog that doesn’t seem to have lifted even slightly.
I haven’t been inside long when there’s a knock on the front door. When I open it, PC Page is there. ‘May I come in?’
Nervous all of a sudden, I nod. Coming in, she closes the door behind her. ‘What is it?’ I ask, staring at her.
She stands there. ‘Could we sit down for a minute?’
‘Of course.’ My face flaming hot, I lead her through to the kitchen, clearing part of the kitchen table as I gesture to her to sit down.
‘I won’t keep you long. I just have one or two questions.’ She hesitates. ‘The night Matt disappeared, where were you?’
‘Here.’ I frown. ‘Why?’
‘We have a witness who recalls seeing you in Brighton. Not far from where this woman Matt was seeing lives. Near Brunswick Square.’
With everything that’s happened, I’ve forgotten. ‘Yes. Of course. I’m sorry. It completely slipped my mind. I was there. I had an order from a desperate mother – her child had skin problems. I went to deliver it, then came straight home.’ Frowning, I shake my head. I never did get to the bottom of the wrong address.
‘I see.’ PC Page writes it down. ‘Do you have details of the order?’
‘Yes, of course.’ But as she speaks, I feel myself frown. It’s almost as though she doesn’t believe me. ‘There was an email.’ I pick up my phone. Scrolling through my inbox, I show it to her.
*
After she leaves, I slump on the sofa. For a couple of hours I don’t move. Going over what the police have told me, then PC Page’s questions, the level of Matt’s deception has devastated me. Staring blankly ahead at the large clock on the kitchen wall, with each slow tick of the second hand I think about cancelling the wedding. The dress I’ll never wear, the bouquet I’ll never make. The vows that will remain unspoken. The guests I’ll have to tell, wondering if any of them have an inkling of what Matt’s capable of.
Lower than I’ve ever felt, it would be so easy, right now, to just give up. There are sleeping pills, upstairs, in the bathroom. It would be the end of all my problems, to drift quietly away and never wake up. But as I contemplate it, my eyes lock onto the photo of Jess and me together, taking in her long hair, the laughter in her eyes, and in that moment, I know I couldn’t do this to her.
Shaken by how close I’ve come, suddenly I’m desperate to talk to Sonia, my therapist. Picking up my phone, I find her number. But as I start to call her, I hesitate. Facing up to how I’m feeling will take a strength that right now, I don’t have. But I can’t go on like this. Thinking of Jess again, I make the call.
Sonia sounds slightly surprised as she answers straight away. ‘Amy, how are you?’
My hands are clammy as I grip my phone. I’d assumed she’d be seeing a client. That I’d be leaving a voicemail – but instead, I have to explain. ‘Not good.’ Hesitant, I break off. ‘Something’s happened. I’m not coping.’ My voice is shaky.
‘Let me get my diary.’ But the familiar sound of her voice isn’t as reassuring as I’d hoped it would be. After making an appointment to see her tomorrow, I lie back on my sofa, darkness settling over me, my consciousness starting to drift. Unaware of time passing, I’ve no idea how long I’ve been there, only that the kitchen is dark when I register a knock on the front door, before a voice calls out.
‘Amy? Are you in there?’
Confused, I get up. There’s no mistaking Sonia’s voice. When I thought I was seeing her tomorrow, why is she here? Getting up, I go to open the door. In a green velvet coat, her fair hair is tucked into the upturned collar, her eyes concerned as she looks at me. ‘I hope this isn’t a bad time? After your call, I was worried about you. Then one of my clients cancelled, so I thought I’d call you, but you didn’t pick up. Can I come in?’
I hadn’t heard my phone ring. Standing back, I let her in, watching as she closes the door, taking in the knitted dress under her coat, mushroom-coloured boots; the sheen of moisture on her skin left by the fog.
Her face is still anxious as she follows me through to the kitchen, where I go to put the kettle on, aware of Sonia watching me. ‘I knew you wouldn’t have called me without good reason.’ She pauses. ‘Why don’t you come and sit down? Then you can tell me what’s been going on.’
Pulling out a chair, then sitting heavily at the table, I stare at my hands, trying to stop them shaking, working out where to start. ‘I was supposed to be getting married.’ My voice is flat. ‘But two days ago, he disappeared. I found out last night from the police that he’s been seeing another woman. She told the police he was going to leave me for her.’ As my voice breaks, I’m aware of tears pouring down my face.
‘You had no idea?’ She sounds shocked. ‘Are the police sure about this other woman?’
‘That’s the thing.’ As I look at her, Sonia’s face is blurred, my words sticking in my throat. ‘For some reason, they believe her over me. They won’t even tell me who she is. And it was me he was going to marry.’
‘Oh Amy …’ Her voice is full of sympathy. ‘You must be reeling with so many emotions – shock, grief, sadness …’ She pauses for a moment. ‘But right now, whatever else is going on, whatever he has or hasn’t done, your first priority is to look after you.’
Hunched, I shake my head. ‘I should have known. Aren’t women supposed to have a sixth sense about these things? I feel so stupid, Sonia. I hadn’t a clue.’
She looks outraged. ‘It isn’t you who’s stupid. Of course you’re hurting. And however badly he’s behaved, you’re grieving. You’ve not only lost him, you’ve lost the future you were planning.’ She pauses. ‘It must be triggering old memories of when Dominic left, too. Do you have any idea where your fiancé might be?’
‘I don’t.’ My words echo in the silence. ‘No-one does. The police are investigating. Our wedding was supposed to be next week. My dress is upstairs. We’d even written our own vows.’ There’s desperation in my voice. ‘All that planning … and now I have to cancel it.’ As I say the words out loud, my body starts to shake.
Sonia’s silent for a moment. ‘Have you had anything to eat?’
I shake my head. ‘I’m not hungry.’
She speaks gently. ‘Why don’t I make us a pot of tea?’
I think about explaining how I’d rather be on my own, then because her voice is kind and I feel so desperately alone, more tears stream down my face. Embarrassed, I try to wipe them away, apologising. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You really have nothing to be sorry about.’ As her hand touches my arm, I know she understands.
*
Sitting at the kitchen table, I watch while she makes two mugs of tea, then puts together a sandwich I have no appetite for, before she sits down across the table from me.
‘You’re dealing with a lot, Amy. And right now, you’re feeling the added shock of finding out that Matt has not only lied, he’s betrayed you.’
‘That’s the worst of it.’ I st
are at my mug. ‘I don’t understand how he could do that to me … And I hate that everyone knows.’
‘It’s possible he hadn’t told you because he couldn’t bring himself to hurt you. However it started with this other woman, maybe it got out of control. Obviously, I don’t know him but plenty of men cheat because they can.’ She speaks carefully. ‘I mean, imagine what it does to your ego to know that you have two women in your life. Two women who both want to be with you.’ She pauses for a moment. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but can I ask you about your relationship? Did you honestly believe everything was right between you?’
‘On the whole, we were good.’ My voice is quiet. ‘We seemed to fit together, somehow. Before we met, we’d both been on our own for some time. You reach an age where you don’t expect to meet anyone. It makes you see things differently. There was the occasional argument … but they were rare. And …’ I hesitate. ‘I know sometimes I did things that annoyed him. But before we were together, I suppose I’d got set in my ways. Jess and I had lived on our own for years.’
Sonia frowns slightly. ‘Did you disagree about anything in particular?’
For reasons I can’t explain, I don’t want to tell her the truth – that he could be intolerant of Jess sometimes, that when I intervened he didn’t like it. He would often remind me that it wasn’t easy being the newcomer when Jess and I were so close.
I shake my head at Sonia.
‘The biggest thing was the house. When we were first together, he wanted to sell it and move to Brighton. I didn’t want to. The garden is the basis of my work. It takes years to establish herbs.’ I turn my gaze towards the window. ‘I didn’t want to give it up and start again.’
‘So you came to an agreement?’ Sonia sounds curious.
I sigh. ‘Kind of. I thought he’d grow to like living here. He gave up trying to persuade me in the end.’ Hunched over the table, I shrug. ‘At least, I thought he had. There was another row about it, not that long ago, but that time, he didn’t push it. Now, I don’t know what to think.’ As I speak, I’m twisting my engagement ring around my finger, wondering if he’ll want it back. ‘This was Matt’s grandmother’s.’ My voice is toneless as I move my hand to show her. After the most romantic dinner, in the most old-fashioned of gestures, Matt had ordered champagne before going down on one knee and giving me the ring. It had been quite early on in our relationship and I’d been ridiculously flattered at being the recipient of a family heirloom. More so, when the ring fitted perfectly. Now, sliding it off my finger, I place it in the middle of the table, then look at her. ‘Have you ever been married?’
‘No.’ Sonia pauses. ‘There was someone. Let’s just say he wasn’t who I thought he was.’
‘My best friend’s ex-boyfriend wasn’t who she thought he was either.’ I’m thinking of Cath. ‘He seemed so charming, but it wasn’t long before he wanted control over every aspect of her life. She couldn’t see it, but everyone else could.’
‘It’s often the way, isn’t it?’ As she looks at me, Sonia sighs. ‘It may not seem like it right now, but for all the people like your friend’s ex-partner, and maybe Matt, too, there really are an equal number of good people in the world.’
Shaking my head, I stare at my hands. ‘Nothing makes any sense. I was so sure about Matt. I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.’
‘No. He obviously knew exactly how to fool you.’ Sonia’s voice is quiet. Then as she goes on, she tries to sound more positive. ‘Hopefully the police will find him. And when they do, you’ll get the answers you need and he can take his possessions and get out of your life for good. Then, you’ll need time to let the dust settle. Going forward, it isn’t going to be the life you imagined. But think about it this way. If your wedding had gone ahead, it would have been far more painful if you’d found out further down the line what he’s capable of.’ Then she sees the flowers on the table. ‘Are those from your garden?’
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 came as a complete shock to her daughter. Had you seen much of her recently?’
I’m horrified. ‘I can’t believe it. She seemed OK the last time I saw her – frail, but determined as ever. Do you know how she died?’
‘We’re not sure. Possibly her heart, but apparently, her house stank of smoke. Her daughter said she was meticulous about getting the chimney swept. Given the circumstances, there’ll be a post-mortem, after which we should know more.’ PC Page hesitates for a moment. ‘Her daughter said you and her mother were quite friendly.’
‘We were. I used to see her much more when we first moved here but recently, I’ve seen her less frequently. Now and then, she’d give me flowers from her garden. She loved her garden – we had that in common, I suppose. She loved my daughter Jess, too.’ I break off for a moment. ‘I’m so sorry. I can’t believe she’s gone.’
The Vow: the gripping new thriller from a bestselling author - guaranteed to keep you up all night! Page 6
