The Perfect Couple: The most gripping psychological thriller of 2020 from bestselling author of books like The Party and Have You Seen Her

by Lisa Hall

  ‘Yes, that’s what happened. What exactly is it that you want to know, Emily? Do you really need to bring all this up again?’

  ‘She was wearing a red, ruffled designer gown, heels and a pair of diamond earrings, is that right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Amanda sighs, ‘but I don’t really see why you need to know all of this. And if Sadie has already told you this, why aren’t you asking her to confirm it all? I have to get ready for work in a little while.’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be quick,’ I say, crossing my fingers, ‘I would have called Sadie only we had a little bit of a… set-to yesterday.’

  ‘Oh?’ Amanda sounds interested now.

  ‘I’ll tell you when I see you,’ I say hastily, not wanting to be distracted from the difficult questions that I need to ask. ‘Listen, it’s about Caro’s earrings. Was she wearing the ones that Rupert gave her as a wedding gift?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Diamond studs. Big ones,’ Amanda sighs enviously, ‘from Tiffany. I remember Sadie wanted to borrow them that night, but Caro wouldn’t let her.’

  ‘Did she have any other pairs? Of diamond earrings, I mean.’ My heart stutters in my chest as I ask the question.

  ‘No,’ Amanda says after a pause, ‘no, I don’t think she did. She had plenty of earrings, don’t get me wrong, tons of jewellery, but that was her only pair of diamond earrings. That’s why she was a bit precious about them.’

  The wedding photo pops into my mind, Caro’s face smiling out at me, the earrings catching the light as they sit in her ear lobes, her hair twisted up. ‘And after she and Rupert argued, Caro just stormed out of the house, leaving all her guests there?’ I have to get all of this straight in my head before I can let myself form the thought that is buzzing at the base of my brain.

  ‘Yes,’ Amanda says, and it sounds as though she is going to cry. ‘I wish now more than anything that I had gone after her. We all just stood around, not really knowing what to do. It wasn’t an uncommon thing, Caro storming out, so we sort of just finished our drinks, and then Rupert made an excuse and basically told everyone to leave.’

  ‘Did Caro come back to the house?’

  ‘No. She never came back to the house, and Rupert called us in the morning to say that she hadn’t come home and to ask if we had seen her, which of course we hadn’t. We offered to help look for her, but she’d done it before. None of us realized quite how serious it was this time. The police found her car three days later…’ Amanda breaks off and I hear her blow her nose. ‘If there’s one thing I do feel guilty about, it’s that I never even noticed that she had taken her car from the garage, none of us did. If I’d realized she was driving after drinking so much, I would have gone after her, all of us would.’

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve made you go through it all again, Amanda,’ I say, and I mean it. I like Amanda, even if she did take a while to get used to me. Maybe in another life we would have been friends, close friends, like her and Caro.

  ‘Why are you even asking me this though, Emily?’ Amanda says, and there is a sharp edge to her voice now.

  ‘I just wanted to get things straight,’ I say. ‘I’ve only ever heard bits and pieces from different people about that night and I wanted to know what happened. How it could happen, that one day she was there and the next she wasn’t.’

  ‘Sadie told me that you thought she might still be alive.’

  Of course she did, I think, and I am glad that I no longer have to deal with Sadie.

  ‘I did,’ I might as well admit it, ‘but I was wrong. You understand why I couldn’t talk to Rupert about it?’

  ‘Yes, but…’

  I butt in before Amanda can finish her sentence, ‘Gosh, I’m so sorry – you’ll be late, won’t you? Thank you for talking to me, Amanda, we’ll catch up soon!’ and I hang up before she can respond.

  Biro and Post-it notes in front of me, I write out a note for every piece of information that I have about the night Caro died. It doesn’t matter how many times I move the pieces around, I still keep coming to the same question. If Caro was wearing the earrings the night of the party – the night she disappeared – then why is one of them sitting in the jewellery box upstairs?

  I get up and start to pace the floor, trying my hardest to find a solution that doesn’t lead to the worst possible scenario. It’s been confirmed that both Amanda and Sadie saw her wearing them as she was arguing with Rupert, only Rupert says that once Caro stormed out of the house, she never returned. The only possible way the earring – which I now think must have been under the dressing table the entire time, until I found it when I dropped the contents of the jewellery box – could have got back into the house is if Caro returned after everyone had left the party. Which means Rupert has lied about the fact that she never returned. And why would he lie about that, and all the other things he’s hidden from me unless he has something to hide?

  I scrub my hands over my face, before throwing open the doors to the orangery, trying to imagine the scene as Rupert and Caro hissed at each other, and the guests tried to look as though nothing was happening. I feel sick, shaky with the knowledge that if Rupert has lied about the fact that Caro returned to the house after everyone had left, then he potentially could have had something to do with Caro’s disappearance. Why else would he say that she never came back?

  I step towards the window, to the light that streams into the room, and try to imagine the room that night, lit by fairy lights, music playing softly in the background – something jazz-like, I think Caro would have chosen. I look onto the garden, to the borders and shrubs, before my gaze snags on the lush patches of grass to the left of the orangery. Pushing open the doors I step into the fresh spring sunshine, and press my toe into the thick grass, wondering if I am imagining the slight dip there in the earth.

  I look back to the extension, newly finished when Caro disappeared. Ridiculous, I think, you’re being ridiculous. But something in my gut tells me that I’m not. The site you’ve marked out is where the first soakaway is. The second soakaway is next to it, which means you don’t really have the space to fit a pool in there. The words of the builder ring in my ears, as I realize that this is another thing that doesn’t add up. The house isn’t on a flood plain that I know of, so why would it need a second soakaway? Surely one is enough? Why go to the expense of adding an extra one?

  I need to speak to the builder – it could be nothing, in which case maybe I’ll ask Rupert about that night one more time. I’ll show him the earring and see if he has a valid explanation for why it is in the house after Caro supposedly disappeared wearing it. And the money, I think with a shiver, as if someone has walked over my grave, Rupert was adamant that he didn’t want to use Caro’s money on a pool… but he’s been making transfers into his own bank account regularly from her funds.

  Suddenly chilly, I hurry back into the house, closing the blinds in the orangery and slamming the door closed. As I head back upstairs to put Caro’s jewellery away, I think of Rupert and my heart turns over. Things had got bad between me and Harry, violent and out of control, but this time – I pause as I reach the bedroom, our wedding photo on display on the nightstand – this time, I think I have bitten off more than I can chew.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jittery with nerves, it’s hard to act normally when Rupert comes home from work, knowing what I think I know. I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t actually know anything as yet – all I have is an idea, a suspicion, but still the temptation to call the whole thing a day and shove my things in a bag and run back to the flat, to Mags, is strong. Not that Mags would probably let me in, not after the way I’ve treated her. Instead I paste on a smile, and let Rupert pull me down onto the sofa, laying my head in his lap after dinner.

  He runs his fingers through my hair, making my scalp tingle, and if I close my eyes, I can almost pretend that nothing has changed, that Rupert hasn’t lied and everything is perfect, just as it was.

  ‘Rupert, what�
�s the worst thing you’ve ever done?’ I ask, from my position lying prone on the sofa, as his fingers massage my scalp. I open my eyes a fraction, enough to see his reaction. His fingers pause for a tiny second, before he rakes them through my hair.

  ‘Gosh, I don’t know. Nothing excitingly bad.’ He lets out a laugh, but I can feel the way his chest strains as he forces it out. ‘There was that time I paid a guy ten quid to give Miles a wedgie, and then obviously Will’s stag do, when we tied him to a lamppost, naked, which is something he’s never forgiven me for… that’s as dark as I get, I’m afraid. What’s brought this on, anyway?’ He shifts so that I have no option other than to sit up.

  ‘I was just thinking about Sadie,’ I say, tucking my legs up underneath me. I let my fingers mingle with his. ‘How we both thought she couldn’t possibly behave that way. It must have been more shocking for you than it was for me. After all, you’ve known her for years.’

  ‘Yes,’ Rupert says quietly, ‘I suppose it was shocking. Although not entirely surprising. People only show you the façade that they want you to see. Everyone does it. We all show our best faces to the others around us.’

  Goosebumps rise on my arms and I rub at my skin through the thin material of my cardigan, as a prickle of unease runs down my back. I can’t have expected him to just admit to me that he had something to do with Caro’s disappearance, and now I’m starting to wish I hadn’t asked the question. ‘Yes. I suppose you’re right. Still shocking, though.’

  ‘What about you?’ Rupert says suddenly, his mouth twisting into a smile. ‘What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I say, breezily, trying to make light of things. ‘Probably the way I treated Mags. I shouldn’t have cut her off when I met you. She did a lot for me, and I feel bad that I didn’t keep in contact with her. That I dropped her.’

  ‘Hmmm, she wasn’t really your friend, Em,’ Rupert says. ‘She was obsessed with you, standing over your bed at night, always wanting to know where you were, what you were doing.’

  I nod noncommittally, thinking of how best to turn the conversation to the things I really want to ask him about. I get to my feet, under the pretence of stoking the fire he lit earlier, throwing another log on and standing for a moment, my hands outstretched to feel the warmth of the flames. I let my gaze wander to the doors that lead to the orangery. People only show you the façade that they want you to see.

  ‘Rupert, are you sure you want to keep the orangery locked up?’ My pulse speeds up as I finally get up the nerve to turn the conversation to the extension, wondering what his reaction will be to me mentioning the builder. Surely if I have jumped to the wrong conclusion, Rupert won’t have any issue with me speaking to him.

  ‘Hmmm?’ He looks up from the television, seemingly distracted by whatever TV show is on, but I get the impression he’s buying himself a few seconds.

  ‘I know I’ve said it a million times, but I think it’s such a shame to waste the light in that room, it’s such a gorgeous space. We could redecorate it…’

  ‘No, Emily.’ Rupert’s tone is sharp. ‘I told you the reason why I don’t want to use that room. We’ve already talked about this.’

  ‘Well, maybe… and this is just an idea… but perhaps if the memory of Caro is so strong in there that you don’t want to use it, perhaps we should consider knocking it down and starting over.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘But why? We could knock the existing orangery down and rebuild it, change it slightly so it’s ours. We could even build it double-storey so there is more room for when we have a family.’ I hold my breath, waiting for him to respond.

  ‘I said no, Emily. I don’t want to use the orangery – maybe in the future I’ll change my mind. And I certainly don’t want to knock it down. I can’t believe you’d even suggest something like that.’

  ‘OK, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’ I go to him on shaking legs, curling into where he sits on the sofa and lay my head on his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him. It still doesn’t mean anything, I try to tell myself, but as I sit there, fake laughing at some stupid TV show, pretending that everything is all right, the same questions keep revolving in my mind. Why, when I said that Caro could still be alive, was Rupert so insistent, so adamant that she was dead? They never found her body, but Rupert is convinced that she is dead – is that because he knows something we don’t? And is that the real reason why he neither wants to use the orangery nor tear it down? Because he feels guilty? Or for some other, more sinister reason?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A man in his late forties, with a closely shaved head and tidy beard, wearing dirty Levi’s and work boots, is loading stuff into a pick-up truck, as I approach the address I’ve found online for the builder Rupert used to build the orangery. I thought Rupert would never leave this morning, as I sat and sipped at my tea, pretending that nothing was wrong, that my heart wasn’t beating so hard in my chest that I was worried I might pass out. Half of me still hopes that I have jumped to the wrong conclusion, that Caro took her earrings out before she stormed off, that Rupert really just doesn’t want to spend the money Caro left him, but the other half of me – the half that believes in instinct and that more than one coincidence is too many – believes that Rupert could have done this. Now, today, if the builder tells me that there was a legitimate reason for building the second soakaway, then maybe I can give Rupert the benefit of the doubt and find another explanation for why Caro’s earring lay hidden beneath the dressing table.

  ‘Excuse me?’ I catch the builder just as he is about to hop into the truck. ‘Are you Nick Williams?’

  He pauses, his hand on the door handle and frowns. ‘Yes? Can I help you?’

  ‘I hope so.’ I pull the rolled-up plans from under my arm. ‘Do you have a few minutes? You built an extension for my husband a little while ago and I wondered if I could chat to you about it.’

  Nick looks wary. ‘Why? I give everything a guarantee, but if there’s a problem…’

  ‘No, there’s no problem.’ At least, not with the building. At my words he visibly relaxes, and I swoop. ‘Do you think we could maybe go inside for a few minutes? I won’t keep you long, I promise.’ It’s starting to rain, and I shield the plans with my jacket.

  Nick makes a show of checking his watch. ‘It’ll have to be quick. I’m already late for a job.’ He bangs on the driver’s window and a young lad looks up from his phone. ‘Tom, I just need a word with this lady. Go up the road and get us a bacon roll each, yeah?’ He turns to me. ‘Come on then, you’d better come inside.’

  I follow him into the house, through to a small but airy kitchen. A woman, presumably his wife, looks up in confusion from where she sits at a breakfast bar feeding a chubby baby.

  ‘Sorry, love,’ Nick stoops to kiss her head, ‘this lady just wants a quick word about her extension. Can you give us a minute?’ With a curious glance between us, Nick’s wife wipes the baby’s face and scoops him from the highchair, leaving Nick and I alone. ‘Right, what did you want to know?’

  I lay out the plans, and as Nick looks them over, he nods his head. ‘Yep, I remember this one well. Lovely, light airy room, and a nice couple to work with. The architect did a brilliant job on the design.’ He frowns. ‘You’re not the lady I did the work for, though, did they move already? Seems a shame to spend all that money and then move away. Wait… didn’t we speak about a swimming pool?’

  ‘We did, and no, they didn’t move,’ I say, my cheeks flushing warm and pink, ‘Caro, the lady you did the work for, isn’t around anymore. Her husband got remarried… err, to me.’ I give him a small smile and he just nods again.

  ‘So, what’s the problem?’

  I flounder for a moment, not sure what to say, everything I’ve prepared melting out of my head. ‘The pool. I wanted to get some more clarification on the pool. Make sure there won’t be any surprises if I go ahead with it.’ Tucking my fingers into my sleeve
s to hide their shaking, I incline my head towards the plans.

  ‘What? Like dead bodies being unearthed?’ I feel my eyes go wide, as Nick grins. ‘Just joking, love! No, no surprises. It was a quite straightforward job, actually. One of those rare jobs where everything seems to go smoothly. Even the bricklayers turned up every day.’ He gives a laugh, deep and infectious, and I get the feeling that maybe the bricklayers don’t always turn up.

  There is a pang of something deep in my chest and I can’t figure out what it is. I don’t want to call it disappointment, because obviously I don’t want Rupert to have done something terrible, but equally it isn’t quite relief either. Maybe I have got things all wrong after all, maybe Rupert was right, and I do see things that aren’t really there. I reach for the plans, but Nick lays his hand flat on them.

  ‘Why are you asking? Is there a problem with the build?’

  ‘No. Not a problem,’ I smooth my hand over the drawings, ‘it’s only that you said that I couldn’t put the pool where I wanted it because of the second soakaway. Is it usual to have a second soakaway? It seems a shame, that’s all,’ I say hastily.

  ‘Well, originally there was only one. You only really need one,’ Nick says, happy to explain, ‘but I got a call from the home owner – the gentleman, not the wife – asking me to come out and see about putting in another one. You could always put the pool in further down the garden, but like I said, it’ll cost you.’

  ‘But why? Why would he need a second one?’

  ‘He was concerned about flooding – the land is partially clay there, so there is potentially a very small risk of flooding, seeing as you’re not miles from the river, and the weather was shocking, if I remember it correctly. It was a wet winter and there’d been storms, some real torrential rain. He was worried that the original soakaway wouldn’t be able to cope – bit overcautious, really, but you know how it is, the customer is always right. He was quite panicky really, he wanted it done as a rush job. Luckily we weren’t too busy.’