One text. Then hand over the phone.
Maybe it was nothing like that. Maybe they all got along famously: Isaac charming the female officer; getting chummy with her male colleague.
I really need to let my girlfriend know what’s happened – she’ll be worried. You’ve seen her mother, she’s not stable …
‘Did he say what had come up?’ I ask Katie.
‘Nope. It’ll be something to do with the show. He’s always working – I suppose you have to be, when you’re self-employed. I hope everything’s all right though – it’s curtain up in seven hours!’ She takes a Pot Noodle upstairs and I rest my fork on the edge of my bowl. It’s the opening night tonight. How could I have forgotten? What if Isaac is still with the police?
‘Not hungry?’ Simon says.
‘Sorry.’
I’ve dug myself into a mess I don’t know how to get out of, and for the rest of the day I prowl the house, offering Katie cups of tea she doesn’t want, braced for the moment she tells me she knows I had Isaac hauled off in a cop car.
A voluntary interview, I remind myself. He wasn’t arrested. But I know the distinction will mean little to Isaac. Or to Katie. At five Matt picks up her to take her to the theatre.
‘She’s just getting her stuff,’ I say. Matt stands on the step, and I feel the cold slide in through the open door. ‘I’d ask you in, but it’s … you know, it’s awkward.’
‘I’ll wait in the cab.’
Katie runs down the stairs, pulling on her coat. She kisses me.
‘Break a leg, love. Isn’t that what they say?’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
As Matt drives off, my mobile rings; PC Swift’s number flashing on the screen. I take my phone upstairs, pushing past Justin on the stairs with a hurried, Excuse me. I go up to Simon’s office and close the door behind me.
Kelly Swift doesn’t bother with niceties. ‘We’ve let him go.’
‘What did he say?’
‘What he said to you. That he saw you on the Tube and thought you looked anxious. He said you kept looking around you; that you seemed jumpy.’
‘Did he admit to following me?’
‘He said he was going to see your daughter, so naturally he walked the same way. When you broke into a run he was concerned, so he ran to catch you up.’
‘Why didn’t he come and speak to me?’ I demand. ‘When he saw me on the Tube? He could have approached me then.’
PC Swift hesitates. ‘He seems to think you don’t like him.’ There’s a post-it note peeling away from Simon’s computer screen, and I press the corners down with my thumb. ‘We’ve got his phone and his laptop, Zoe – he was quite happy to let us have access – and at first glance there’s nothing linking him to find the one dot com. Cyber Crime will investigate more thoroughly over the next few hours, and of course I’ll let you know if they turn anything up.’ She pauses again, and when she speaks her voice is softer. ‘Zoe, I don’t think he’s got anything to do with the website.’
‘Oh God, what have I done?’ I shut my eyes, as if that will help me block out the mess I’m making of everything. ‘My daughter’s never going to forgive me for this.’
‘Isaac was very understanding about the mix-up,’ PC Swift says. ‘He knows you’ve been under a lot of stress. I got the impression he was happy to keep things between you and him.’
‘He’s not going to tell Katie? Why would he do that?’
She exhales, and I think I detect a note of exasperation in her voice. ‘Maybe he’s just one of the good guys, Zoe.’
The following day the house is quiet when I get up. It’s strangely bright in our bedroom and when I open the curtains I see that the promised snow has come. The roads are already clear – grit and traffic making short work of the overnight fall – but the pavements and gardens, the roofs and stationary cars, are covered in two inches of soft white snow. Fresh flakes drift past the window to cover the footprints on the path outside.
I kiss Simon on the lips. ‘It’s snowing!’ I whisper, like a child wanting to go out and play. He smiles without opening his eyes and pulls me back into bed.
When I get up again the snow has stopped. Justin has another long shift at the café, and Katie is sleeping off her opening night. She’s left a note for me propped against the kettle.
We had a full house! Best audience ever, Isaac reckons! x
He didn’t tell her. I let out a slow breath.
I’ll need to speak to him. Apologise. But not today.
‘What time’s your interview?’ I ask Simon.
‘Not till two o’clock, but I thought I’d go in this morning and pick up a few back issues so I can mug up a bit over lunch. You don’t mind, do you? You’ll be all right here?’