The Breakdown

Horribly aware of the time counting down, because I only have thirty seconds before the alarm goes off, I try to work out what I’ve done wrong. I’m so sure I’ve got the code right that I try the same numbers again – and fumble it.

Within seconds all hell is let loose. A siren pierces the air, then another joins in, shrieking intermittently.

As I stand dithering in front of the keypad, trying to work out if there’s some other way of turning the alarm





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off, I hear the phone ringing behind me and my heart, already racing with the stress of having messed up the code, speeds up even more because all I can think is that whoever’s been plaguing me with silent calls knows that I’ve just arrived home. Abandoning the alarm, I run to the gate and look up and down the road for someone to help me. But despite the noise from the alarm, no one comes to investigate, and the irony of it makes me feel a bit hysterical.

At that moment, Matthew’s car comes into sight, sobering me up. Realising I’m holding the carrier bag from The Baby Boutique, I quickly open my car and fling it under the seat before he’s near enough to see. The puzzlement on his face as he drives through the gate tells me the noise from the alarm has already reached him.

He brings the car to an abrupt stop and jumps out.

‘Cass, what’s happened? Are you all right?’

‘I can’t turn off the alarm!’ I shout over the noise.

‘The code doesn’t work!’

The relief on his face, that we haven’t been burgled, is quickly replaced by one of surprise.

‘What do you mean, it doesn’t work? It did yesterday.’

‘I know, but it doesn’t anymore!’

‘Let me have a look.’

I follow him into the house and he punches the code into the keypad. The noise stops immediately.

‘I don’t believe it,’ I say, bewildered. ‘Why didn’t it work for me?’

‘Are you sure you put the code in correctly?’

The Breakdown





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‘Yes, I put in 9291, exactly as I did yesterday, exactly


as you just did. I even put it in twice but it still wouldn’t work.’

‘Wait a minute – what number did you say?’

‘Nine two nine one, our birthdays backwards.’

He shakes his head in despair. ‘It’s 9192, Cass, not 9291. Your birthday, then mine. You got them round the wrong way, that’s all. You put mine in first instead of yours.’

‘Oh God,’ I groan. ‘How could I be so stupid?’

‘Well, it’s easily done, I suppose. But didn’t it occur to you to try the numbers the other way round when they wouldn’t work the first time?’

‘No,’ I say, feeling even more stupid. Over his shoulder, I see a police car draw up in front of the house. ‘What are the police doing here?’

Matthew turns to look. ‘I don’t know. Maybe the alarm company called them out – you know, because of the murder happening so close to here.’

A policewoman gets out of the car. ‘Is everything all right?’ she calls over the fence.

‘Yes, everything’s fine,’ Matthew assures her.

She comes down the drive anyway. ‘You haven’t

had a breakin then? We were notified that your alarm had gone off and that you weren’t responding to the follow-up call so we thought we’d come out to check.’

‘I’m sorry – you’ve had a wasted journey, I’m afraid,’

Matthew says. ‘It’s a new alarm and we had a bit of a mix-up with the code.’





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‘Would you like me to check the house, just to make sure? The alarm wasn’t going off when you arrived home, was it?’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ I say apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I put the wrong code in.’

The policewoman smiles reassuringly at me. ‘No harm done.’

I find her presence strangely comforting and I know it’s because I’m dreading being on my own with Matthew.

He might have decided to overlook, or find excuses, for all the other stupid stuff I’ve done recently but he’s not going to be able to ignore what’s just happened with the alarm.

The policewoman gets back in her car and I follow Matthew into the kitchen.

As he makes us both tea, the silence is so uncomfortable that I long for him to say something, even if it’s not what I want to hear.

‘Cass, can we talk?’ he asks, handing me a mug.

‘What about?’

‘It’s just that you’ve been a bit distracted lately – you know, forgetting things…’

‘Ordering alarms, setting them off,’ I nod.

‘I just wondered if you’re stressed about something.’

‘I’ve been getting silent phone calls,’ I say, because admitting my fear around these is preferable to telling him that I’m losing my mind. I know Rachel didn’t think the calls were anything to worry about but I’d like to have Matthew’s take on them.

The Breakdown





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‘What, when?’


‘Always in the morning.’

‘On your mobile or the house phone?’

‘The house phone.’

‘Did you check the number?’

‘Yes, it was withheld.’

‘Then they’re probably coming from a call centre somewhere over the other side of the world. Seriously, is that’s what’s bothering you? A few calls from a withheld number?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why? It can’t be the first time you’ve received those sort of calls, everybody gets them.’

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