The Breakdown

‘Yes,’ I say, ‘I am.’

He walks me to the door and I have a sudden urge to confide in him about the calls I’ve been getting.

‘Was there something else?’ he asks.

‘No, it’s fine,’ I say, because I can’t intrude on him any longer.

‘Goodbye then.’

‘Goodbye.’

I walk slowly towards the gate, wondering if I’ve

missed my chance, because there’s no way I can turn up on his doorstep uninvited again.

‘Maybe I’ll see you in the park someday!’ he calls.

‘Maybe,’ I say, realising that he’s been watching me.

‘Goodbye.’

It’s around four by the time I arrive back at the house, too late in the day to take a pill, so I decide to sit in the The Breakdown





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garden until Matthew arrives. I’m not going to tell him


that I’ve been out today because if I do I’ll have to lie about where I’ve been and if I lie, it might come back to bite me if I can’t remember what I told him. The heat makes me thirsty so I go into the house, remembering to turn off the alarm on the way in, and head for the kitchen. I open the door and find myself pausing on the threshold. My eyes scan the room; a prickle of unease goes down my spine. Everything seems as it should be but I know that it’s not, I know that since I left this morning, something has changed.

I move slowly back into the hall and stand as still as I can, listening for the slightest sound. There is nothing, only silence, but I know that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone there. I take the phone from the hall table and slip quietly back through the front door, pulling it shut behind me. I move away from the house, making sure to stay just inside the gate so that the phone is still in range and, with shaking fingers, I dial Matthew’s number.

‘Can I call you back?’ he asks. ‘I’m in a meeting.’

‘I think someone’s been in the house,’ I say cautiously.

‘Hold on a minute.’

I hear him excusing himself and the scrape of his

chair as he stands up and a few seconds later he’s back on the line.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Someone’s been in the house,’ I say, trying to hide my agitation. ‘I went for a walk and when I came back I could tell someone had been in the kitchen.’





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‘How?’

‘I don’t know,’ I say, frustrated at sounding crazy again.

‘Is something missing? Have we been burgled? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?’

‘I don’t know if we’ve been burgled, all I know is that someone has been in the house. Can you come home, Matthew? I don’t know what to do?’

‘Did you put the alarm on when you left?’

‘Yes.’

‘So how would they have got in without triggering

it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Are there signs of a break-in?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t stay long enough to find out.

Look, we’re wasting time. What if he’s still there? Don’t you think we should call the police?’ I hesitate a moment.

‘Jane’s murderer is still on the loose.’

He doesn’t say anything and I know it was stupid of me to have mentioned it.

‘Are you quite sure that someone has been in the

house?’ he asks.

‘Of course I am, I wouldn’t make it up. And he might still be in there.’

‘Then we’d better call the police.’ I sense his reluctance. ‘They’ll get there quicker than me.’

‘But you will come?’

‘Yes, I’ll leave now.’

‘Thank you.’

The Breakdown





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He phones back a minute later to tell me that the


police will be with me shortly. Although they come

quickly, they also come quietly, so I know Matthew

didn’t mention the word murderer to them. The police car pulls to a halt in front of the gate and I recognise the policewoman who came the time I set off the alarm.

‘Mrs Anderson?’ she says, walking down the drive

towards me. ‘I’m PC Lawson. Your husband asked me

to come by. I believe you think there might be someone in your house?’

‘Yes,’ I say quickly. ‘I went for a walk and when I came back I could tell that someone had been in the kitchen.’

‘Did you see any signs of a break-in – glass on the floor, that sort of thing?’

‘I only went as far as the kitchen so I don’t know.’

‘And you think they’re still there?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t stay around to find out. I came straight out here and phoned my husband.’

‘Can I get in through the front door? Do you have

a key?’

‘Yes,’ I say, giving it to her.

‘Stay here, please, Mrs Anderson. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come in.’

She lets herself into the house and I hear her calling out, asking if anyone is there, and then for the next five minutes or so, everything goes quiet. Eventually, she comes back out.

‘I’ve made a thorough search of the house and I can’t find anything to suggest there was an intruder,’ she says.





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‘There’s no sign of a forced entry, all the windows are secure and everything seems to be in order.’

‘Are you sure?’ I ask anxiously.

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