‘Can you remember when you last saw her?’
I remember clearly. ‘It was the morning after Matt went missing. I’d just come back after delivering some orders, when I saw her walking down the lane. She had some Japanese anemones in her garden which she said I could use for our wedding.’ Frowning, I can’t believe I haven’t asked. ‘Do you know if she saw anyone leave the bouquet outside my door?’
‘I did speak to her.’ PC Page sounds thoughtful. ‘She said she saw a van pull up outside the day it happened.’
I tighten my grip on my phone. ‘No-one’s told me this.’
‘Probably because there isn’t much to tell. It was too dark and the van was too far away for her to identify the make or colour. Because of how it parked, she didn’t see anyone get in or out of it, either.’
My heart starts to race. ‘It must have been whoever left the flowers. Who else could it have been?’
‘That’s anyone’s guess.’ There’s a pause before she speaks. ‘Either way, it doesn’t exactly help. But we’re doing everything we can to find out.’
*
None of us are immortal, but I’d imagined Mrs Guthrie obstinately refusing to let her age get the better of her, one of those old women who’d struggle on into her nineties, battling her frailty. It crosses my mind that her death is connected to whoever delivered the flowers – the timing seems too much of a coincidence. But whether it is or not, it weaves another layer of uncertainty around me. With Matt gone, Jess away and Mrs Guthrie no longer across the road, my sense of isolation grows. If anything were to happen, I’m alone.
Chapter Nine
Each time Jess says she’s coming back, I persuade her not to. I don’t want her to see me broken. Nor do I want her here until this day – the day Matt and I were going to be married, a day I’ve dreaded – is over. Two weeks have passed, and there is too much to forgive. Even if he did come back, I wouldn’t want him here.
On the morning of what should have been the happiest day of my life, the early morning mist lifts, leaving a cold, sunlit day as I’d always known it would be. I step outside onto a light covering of frost that sparkles as the first rays of sun catch it. Instead of resounding with joy and love, with the heartfelt best wishes of our friends, it’s a day that leaves me ice cold; filled with uncertainty and emptiness. In place of celebratory cards and the scent of flowers filling the house, the wooden floors polished, the windows crystal clear, dust has settled, thick enough that I can trace Matt’s name with my finger. Liar.
When Cath calls, I let it go to voicemail, before texting her.
I’m OK, I just want to be alone today.
Not long after, Lara texts me. I’m here if you need company.
Only when Jess calls do I pick up.
‘Are you OK, Mum? I’m worried about you.’ Her voice is anxious.
‘Please don’t, Jess. I’m fine, really I am. It will be good to have this day behind me.’ I try to inject brightness into my voice, hoping she won’t pick up on how I’m really feeling.
‘If you feel horrible, promise you’ll call me?’
‘Of course I will. Thank you, Jess, but really. I’m going to be OK.’
Turning off my phone, I think of the bouquet I’d planned to make – amongst stems of winter foliage, the beauty of the flowers speaking for themselves. The same flowers I destroyed when Sonia was here. Going over to the fridge, I take out the bottle of Taittinger that we’d put aside especially for today.
Even though it’s early, I open it, pouring some into one of our crystal champagne flutes. Drinking quickly on an empty stomach, I feel the rush as the alcohol goes to my head, as I pour another. On this hateful day, I deserve this, I remind myself. Matt isn’t the man I thought he was. There was another woman in his life. He lied.
The champagne works, dulling my pain, fuelling my anger. Halfway through the bottle, I get out my laptop, printing off the vows I’ve written, folding the piece of paper and pocketing it, before deleting the folder. Then I go upstairs to fetch my wedding dress, unwrapping its embroidered bodice and dusky pink layers – the dress of my dreams, in which I’d naïvely imagined marrying the man of my dreams. Taking it downstairs, I go through to the kitchen, tormenting myself with thoughts of this other woman and how she’s stolen Matt, ruined my life. How could she?
Collecting the champagne bottle and an old newspaper, I open the doors and go outside. As I walk down to the far end of the garden, I stop now and then to swig champagne from the bottle. When I reach the bonfire heap, I hesitate only briefly before throwing my dress onto it, screwing up some of the newspaper, pushing it underneath. Striking a match, I light the paper, before watching it smoulder. Then as the fire takes hold, I gaze through the smoke, dead inside, remembering the nightmare I had, while my beautiful dress scorches, wisps of it floating away as it melts into the flames. Reaching into my pocket for the vows I printed off, I crumple up that piece of paper, too, throwing it onto the bonfire. Then as the heat builds, I step back, finishing the champagne while I watch the flames, before dropping the empty bottle to the ground.
As the fire starts to die down, I notice a piece of fabric that’s fallen away. Kicking it back into the embers, it flares briefly. Staring at the smouldering flames, I watch the last of the smoke curl into the air, before turning back towards the house. Maintaining my composure until I’m inside, as I close the door behind me, my control vanishes. Pain turns to grief, anger to rage, as I grab the champagne flute from earlier, then hurl it at the wall. Then going to the cupboard, I fetch the rest of the glasses, shattering each of them, my sobbing growing louder.
But it doesn’t end there. Plates follow – part of the dinner service we’d chosen together, each pointless plate in turn. There is no place for anything in my life that Matt’s had a part in. Only when I’m spent do I survey the wreckage on the floor, realising I have to find his other woman, wherever she is. She deserves to know what she’s done to me.
1996
That hot blue skies summer, they didn’t need anyone else. They were two halves of the same whole; emboldening each other, invincible; soulmates.
Even their names seemed to fit together. Charlie and Kimberley. Free spirits, roaming across fields, then when the heat got too much, seeking shade in the woods. Their limbs brown, their hair bleached by the sun, as they lay in the long grass together, side by side. Lost in the depths of the sky, watching the swallows soar, he felt her hand reach for his.
He didn’t know when he realised they’d always be together, just that somehow he knew he couldn’t live without her laughter, her touch, her love. Reading his thoughts, she rolled over, her eyes gazing into his, and in that moment he knew she felt the same.
It was a moment nothing moved, as they seemed to merge into the grass, the sun, the rolling hills, the acres of sky. Caught someplace where time was infinite – but then it caught up with them. Suddenly she got up, pulling him to his feet as she started running back towards her gran’s house.
Her gran had stories to tell, about the witches in the elder trees and the spirits in the woods; how nature had a power that could be tapped into, if you learned how. Her own grandmother had taught her, as a child.
It was about the connectedness, she told him. The magic contained in petals, bark, leaves, roots, seeds. In the most delicate flowers, herbs, berries, trees; in artistry, subtlety, alchemy. They could heal, balance, uplift, calm. But what most people didn’t know was that your intention had to be pure, your knowledge vital, because in the wrong hands, they could also kill.
Amy
Chapter Ten
For the betrayed there can be no sorrow or fond memories. For us, there are only questions, our grief sharp-edged, cutting deep. More than two weeks have passed since I last saw Matt, but unable to face talking, I haven’t seen Sonia again – putting off my scheduled appointments until I reach another low point. Desperate to find a way out of my grief, this time I go.
‘I’m sorry I’ve kept cancelling.’ Soni
a’s counselling room is small, the windowsill crammed with plants, the air calm, as I sit in a small armchair.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ She sounds unfussed. ‘How have you been?’
Even before I speak, I’m defensive. Resenting the reasons that have brought me here, I’m hunched, my hands tightly clasped. ‘Up and down. The day our wedding should have happened was a low point. But at least that’s over now.’
Sonia’s silent for a moment. ‘Do you think it would help you to tell me more about you and Matt?’
My sigh is shaky. ‘Maybe.’ I’ve gone over and over the past, looking for any sign things weren’t right. Every time, I’ve drawn a blank. ‘Before I met him, I’d been alone – since Dominic. I’d given up on the idea of meeting anyone. I really wanted it to work. I honestly thought we were good together.’
‘The breakup of your marriage was traumatic, wasn’t it?’ Sonia’s voice is quiet. ‘And now this happens. How does that make you feel?’
‘Stupid?’ I offer, tears filling my eyes. ‘Let down, powerless, unworthy …’
‘It’s brought it back, hasn’t it?’ She speaks gently. ‘But like last time, you will come through this. And you will be fine.’ A frown crosses her face. ‘Tell me – what kind of person is Matt? I mean, is he kind? Considerate? Is he thoughtful towards you – and other people?’
I’m silent, because it’s obvious what the answer is. Why else would I have been with him? I shrug. ‘I always thought he was.’
‘How did you meet?’ She sounds curious.
‘At a party in the village. It was at a friend’s house.’ Frowning, I break off. Since we’ve been together, I’ve lost touch with so many of my friends. ‘I haven’t seen her for some time. But things have changed since I met Matt. I mean, when you first meet someone, you want to spend time alone, don’t you?’
Frowning, Sonia picks up on it straight away. ‘Don’t you see your friends any more?’
‘Not that often.’ I hesitate. ‘I suppose life has been busy – with work, planning the wedding. I’m sure things would have got back to normal after.’ But it isn’t Sonia I’m trying to convince. Matt’s reticence when it came to seeing my friends has always needled me. I’ve seen it as a compromise, prioritising his needs before mine. ‘Relationships are full of compromises.’ Was that so wrong of me?
‘It depends on the compromise.’ Sonia looks at me. ‘Did Matt think the same way? Would you say he compromised?’
Had he? I think of the times I went along with what he wanted, not wanting to rock the boat. Had he done the same for me?
Sonia doesn’t push it further. ‘Have you thought about maybe seeing your GP? They might be able to prescribe something – even in the short term – that might help you through this.’
*
I decide to take her advice and after a visit to my GP, anti-depressants draw a veil over my emotions, while milestones become a measure of the passing of time. The next comes a week to the day after our wedding should have taken place. Today, at this time, we should have been on our way to Rome airport, our taxi weaving through the streets to catch our return flight, heading home to Christmas together, our hearts filled with joy and regret at leaving a beautiful city. But we could always come back, I’d have whispered to Matt, imagining him nodding his agreement, taking my hand. Us: the foolish woman and the liar.
We should have been flying home to the rest of our lives. Gazing out through the kitchen window, I wonder if in a parallel universe, we are there together. Another Matt and Amy, laughing, happy. Honest. Waiting for a plane somewhere in Italy; neither of us able to imagine that in another place and another time, he has disappeared and I’m alone.
Then I remind myself what he’s done to me, my broken heart raging, warped, illogical, savage with its intent – the Matt who’s hurt me so deeply and who I’m incensed with, as I oscillate between tarnished love and noxious hate.
Jess comes home for Christmas earlier than I’m expecting. So far, I’ve told her as little as I can get away with, but as I recount what the police have told me about Matt’s double life, her shock is written on her face.
‘I can’t believe it. He’s vile, Mum. You’re well shot of him.’ A frown crosses her face. ‘I never liked him.’
Her words shock me, then I’m filled with guilt. How had I never noticed? Or had I been so wrapped up in myself, I hadn’t seen what was right in front of me? ‘Why?’
She shakes her head. ‘He was awful to you – so many times. He really was. I don’t think you saw it.’ She pauses. ‘I’m not sure why, but to start with, I’m not sure I did, either. But I didn’t say anything, because I thought you were happy.’
For a moment I don’t reply. ‘You know we had ups and downs, but everyone has them and they were rare. We were OK, Jess.’
‘Really? He was always putting you down,’ she says softly. ‘Sometimes …’ A cloud crosses her face as she breaks off. ‘Never mind.’
‘What were you going to say?’ I frown at her.
Her eyes are serious as she looks at me. ‘I was going to say, I didn’t trust him.’
‘I had no idea.’ Yet again, her words shock me. How hadn’t I known how Jess felt? I’d always trusted him – until I had every reason not to. ‘I honestly can’t believe you felt like that. You should have told me.’
‘I couldn’t. I thought you wanted to be with him.’ She shakes her head. ‘But it was the way he used to look at me. Even at the beginning, when he was saying all the right things to you, when it was just him and me, he made it quite clear he wasn’t interested in me. I suppose, being at uni and meeting different people … I don’t know. It makes you look at things differently.’
‘Everyone’s different. Everyone’s relationships are different.’ I protest, uncomfortable, trying not to show the effect her words are having on me. ‘The only people who really know what a relationship’s like are those who’re involved in it.’ Noticing Jess staring at me, I break off.
‘I don’t know how you’re so calm.’
She’s right. I’m unnaturally calm, with a chemically induced numbness. ‘I’m taking something. Just short term – it helps.’ I hesitate. ‘I’ve been seeing Sonia again, too.’
‘Your therapist from before? That’s really good, Mum.’ Jess looks relieved.
‘Jess.’ I’m struggling for the right words, but really, it’s simple. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Why should you be sorry?’ Jess looks outraged.
‘I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this. That I didn’t know how you felt about Matt. That you’re worrying about me instead of getting on with your own life back at uni.’ For a moment, the veil the drugs have drawn threatens to lift. I force myself to take a deep, shaky breath. ‘Maybe it was my fault. Maybe if I’d done something differently, this wouldn’t have happened. I’m not saying what Matt’s done is excusable, but I can’t help wondering.’
Her eyes flash. ‘You are joking, right? I honestly can’t believe you said that. Matt’s the one who should be sorry,’ she says angrily. ‘He shouldn’t have cheated on you.’ A frown crosses her face. ‘Are the police sure it isn’t this other woman who’s lying?’
‘The same thing’s occurred to me.’ I shrug. ‘But for whatever reason, they seem to believe her. They say they have proof – CCTV, photos. The other thing is …’ I pause. ‘Even if she was lying, you have to ask why.’
‘She could be a psychopath. People think it’s just men who get obsessed, but it isn’t always. I wasn’t going to tell you, Mum, but there’s this girl in my hall who’s just been arrested. She’s been stalking her boyfriend, doing sick things like sending him dead birds and spreading all these lies about him. She seemed so nice. Everyone thought she was lovely. None of us had any idea.’
‘God.’ The thought of Jess being exposed to someone like that shocks me. ‘There was something else that happened. Actually, two things.’ After telling her about the old woman in Brighton, I tell her about the bouquet of flowers
.
Jess is clearly horrified. ‘That’s disgusting, Mum. You should have told me. It must have freaked you out. What kind of person dreams up something like that? Could there be …’ She breaks off, fear in her eyes. ‘You don’t think there’s anyone who wants to hurt you, do you?’
Slowly I shake my head. ‘The police asked me that, too. But honestly, I can’t think of anyone.’
While I’m grateful for Jess’s company, it’s a Christmas I could do without, but I make an effort for her. We decorate a tree, buy nice food, while Jess tells me about a boy she’s met.
‘His name’s Rik – without a c. He’s really cool. He’s studying sports journalism – and he surfs, Mum. He’s going to teach me.’
I want to tell her to be careful. Not about surfing, but about Rik. When she barely knows him, how can she trust him?
She reads my mind. ‘He’s OK, Mum. I think you’d like him. He’s nice to me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be with him.’
‘I’m really pleased for you, Jess.’ I force myself to sound enthusiastic, while the truth is I want to hold her close, tell her to keep her wits about her. To not make the same mistakes as I did. ‘Have you told your dad?’
‘No.’ The single word tells me all I need to know.
‘Have you seen him at all?’ I speak quietly. Dominic’s complete lack of responsibility is a controversial subject.
‘He came to Falmouth a while ago and took me out for dinner.’
‘That’s nice – that you had some time together.’
‘It was OK.’ Her face is tight. ‘But he doesn’t really know what’s going on in my life. He wouldn’t think to ask if I had a boyfriend.’ There’s hurt in her voice. ‘It’s like spending time with a distant uncle, rather than my dad.’ She shakes her head. ‘Mum? On one of my courses, we’ve been learning about where our behaviour comes from – like from parents, families, friends. I’ve wondered.’ Frowning, she shakes her head. ‘About your childhood. Only you don’t talk about my grandparents. I know they’re dead now, but what were they like?’
The Vow: the gripping new thriller from a bestselling author - guaranteed to keep you up all night! Page 7
