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listen to his silent menace coming down the line. And
then I phone Matthew.
The call goes straight through to his voicemail so I phone the main number and ask to be put through to his assistant.
‘Hello, Valerie, it’s Cass, Matthew’s wife.’
‘Hi, Cass, how are you?’
‘I’m fine, thanks. I tried to call Matthew but it went straight through to his voicemail.’
‘That’s because he’s in a meeting.’
‘Has he been in there long?’
‘Since nine o’clock.’
‘I suppose once he’s in there, he won’t come out until it’s finished?’
‘Well, only to get coffee or something. But if it’s urgent, I can get him for you.’
‘No, it’s fine, don’t worry, I’ll catch him later.’
Well, at least I had one day’s respite, I tell myself dully as I pop a couple of pills and swallow them down with water. At least I managed to believe for one day that Matthew was right when he said the calls were coming from a call centre. And now that I can no longer fool myself, at least I have the pills to help get me through the day.
While I wait for them to take effect, I slump on the sofa in the sitting room, the remote in my hand. I’ve never watched daytime television before and as I flick through the channels I come across a shopping channel.
I watch it for a while, marvelling at all the different
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gadgets that I never knew I needed, and when I see a pair of long silver earrings, which I know Rachel would love, I quickly find a pen and jot down the details so that I can order them later.
An hour or so later the phones rings and because the pills have begun to work, I feel only apprehension, not dread. It’s Matthew.
‘Good morning, sweetheart, did you sleep well?’ His voice is tender, a legacy of our lovemaking the previous night.
‘Yes, I did.’ I pause, not wanting to spoil the intimacy of the moment by mentioning the call I received.
‘Valerie said you called,’ he prompts.
‘Yes. I got another call this morning.’
‘And?’ He can’t hide his disappointment and I kick myself for not having found something more loving to say before dragging him back into my nightmare.
‘I just thought I’d tell you, that’s all.’
‘So what do you want me to do?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe we should tell the police.’
‘We could, but I’m not sure they’d take a few silent calls seriously, not when they’re busy looking for a murderer.’
‘They might if I tell them I think they’re coming from the murderer.’ The words are out before I can stop them and, although I don’t hear it, I can imagine Matthew stifling a sigh of impatience.
‘Look, you’re tired, run-down, it’s easy to jump to conclusions when you’re feeling a bit fragile. But it’s not The Breakdown
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logical to suppose that the calls are coming from the
murderer. Try and remember that.’
‘I will,’ I say dutifully.
‘I’ll see you later.’
‘All right.’ I put the phone down, hating that I’ve destroyed the sense of relief he must have felt yesterday when I told him I was feeling a whole lot better. Ignoring my laptop, I go back to watching the shopping channel until I sink into oblivion.
The phone wakes me. Outside the sun has shifted towards the afternoon and as my mind clears I instinctively hold my breath. The answering machine picks up the call and my lungs collapse in relief. I expect it to be Rachel, calling me back, but it sounds suspiciously like Mary, our head teacher, saying something about the forthcoming Inset day. I don’t want to feel under any more pressure than I already do so I block out the sound of her voice. But once the call is finished, feeling like a student who hasn’t done her homework, I fetch my laptop and carry it through to the study to work at the table there.
I’ve barely made a start when a car accelerates hard in the road outside, making me jump. I listen as it travels up the road towards the other houses, the sound of its engine growing fainter by the second, wondering why I hadn’t heard it approaching. Unless it had been sitting outside the house all along.
I try to push the thought away but I can’t. Panic sets in and questions tumble feverishly through my mind. Had
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