between it and the house in a couple of seconds. Inside the car I lock all the doors and drive quickly through the gate, breathing heavily. As I pass the house that was for sale, I see a man standing in the garden, and recognise him as the one I’d seen hanging around the house. I can’t see if he has a mobile in his hand but it doesn’t matter.
He could be my silent caller, he could be Jane’s killer, he could be her secret lover. He’s also perfectly placed to see Matthew leave for work each morning, to know when I’m alone.
It’s time to go to the police. But first, I need to speak to Matthew, I need to tell him what I suspect and I need him to tell me that I could be right because I don’t want to get it wrong again. Making a fool of myself in front of him is preferable to making a fool out of myself in front of the police. How can I ask them to check out the man up the road without some sort of proof, or backup from Matthew? They already have me down as an idiot for setting the alarm off.
In my agitation I almost run a red light and, worried that I’ll have an accident, I make myself calm down. I wish I could spend the day with someone but Rachel is still in Siena and everyone else is on holiday too, or leaving in the next day or so.
In the end I decide to drive Browbury, my eyes constantly checking my rear-view mirror, making sure no one is following me. I park in the High Street, plan-ning to find somewhere to sit, waste time and pretend to
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have lunch. Relieved that I have a plan, I grope around for my bag and realise, appalled, that it’s not there, that in my haste to leave the house I’ve left it behind. I need to be able to buy myself at least a drink so I rummage around in the glove compartment for coins. A sharp knock on the window frightens the life out of me and, straightening up, I see John smiling in at me.
Unable to smile back because of the shock he gave me, I turn back to the glove compartment and close it, giving myself time. Back in control, I turn the key back in the ignition and slide the window down.
‘You gave me a fright,’ I say, trying to smile.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, contrite. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you arriving or leaving?’
‘Both.’ He looks at me quizzically. ‘I’ve just arrived but I seem to have left my bag at home, so now I’m going to have to drive back and fetch it,’ I explain.
‘Can I help out at all?’
I hesitate, weighing up my options. I don’t want to encourage him but he knows I’m with Matthew. And I definitely don’t want to go back to the house but I can’t wander aimlessly around Browbury for the rest of the day without the means to buy myself a coffee and newspaper.
‘I don’t suppose you’d like to buy me a coffee, would you?’
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ He puts his hand in his pocket and draws out two one-pound coins. ‘I’ll even pay for your parking unless you want to get a ticket.’
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‘I forgot about that,’ I say, pulling a face. ‘A pound
will be enough though; I’ll only need an hour.’
‘Not if you let me take you for lunch as well as coffee.’
‘Why not?’ I say, my spirits lifting at the thought of two hours of my day now filled. ‘As long as you’ll let me return the favour.’
‘Done.’
He goes over to the parking meter, puts the coins in and hands the ticket through the window.
‘Thanks.’
I get out of the car and he nods at my feet. ‘Nice shoes.’
I look down at my feet, clad in the old brown mocca-sins I use for gardening, which used to belong to Mum.
‘I was doing some weeding and I forgot to change out of them,’ I say, laughing. ‘Are you sure you still want to be seen out with me?’
‘Absolutely. Where would you like to go?’
‘You choose.’
‘How about Costello’s?’
‘Do you have time?’
‘Definitely. How about you? You’re not in a rush, are you?’
‘No, not at all.’
I have such a lovely time over the next couple of hours that I don’t want it to end. The thought of going home and only having my head for company makes me feel depressed again and I quickly take a sip of water.
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‘Thank you,’ I say gratefully, as John signals for the bill. ‘I really needed that.’
‘Me too.’
‘Why’s that?’ I ask.
‘Just that I’ve been at a bit of a loose end since my girlfriend disappeared off the scene. What about you?
Why did you need to get away for a couple of hours?
You’re not still being plagued by phone calls, are you?’
I look at him sharply. ‘What do you mean?’
‘From the call centre. It took my ears quite a long time to recover from the bashing they received.’
‘I still feel embarrassed about that,’ I groan.
‘I hope that’s not why you didn’t come for a drink last Friday. We missed you.’