‘You don’t know how much I want to.’ My eyes
fill with tears. ‘Do you know what I did on Tuesday morning? I took an overdose. I didn’t do it on purpose, I wasn’t even aware I had swallowed down a load of pills but I suppose I did it because, subconsciously, my life had become intolerable.’
‘If I could have spared you any of it, I would have,’
he says quietly. ‘But I had no idea that Jane’s murder could impact on anyone other than our family.’
‘It’s strange,’ I say slowly. ‘I should feel relieved that it isn’t the murderer who’s been phoning me. But at least I thought I knew who it was. Now, it could be anybody.’
‘I know this is probably what you don’t want to hear, but it’s more likely to be someone you know.’
I stare at him in horror. ‘Someone I know?’
‘Daddy?’
One of his little daughters appears in the doorway
dressed in a t-shirt and nappy and clutching a toy rabbit.
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Getting to his feet, he sweeps her into his arms while I dry my tears hurriedly.
‘Is Louise still asleep?’ he asks, giving her a kiss.
‘Loulou sleeping,’ she says, nodding.
‘Do you remember the tissue lady from the park?’
‘Is your knee better?’ I ask. She holds her leg straight out so that I can see for myself. ‘Wonderful,’ I smile.
‘All gone.’ I look up at Jane’s husband. ‘I’ll let you get on. Thank you, again.’
‘I hope I’ve helped.’
‘Yes, you have.’ I turn to his little daughter. ‘Goodbye, Charlotte.’
‘You remembered,’ he says, pleased.
He walks me to the door. ‘Please think about what
I told you.’
‘I will.’
‘Take care.’
There are so many emotions running through me that
it’s impossible to drive so I find a bench in the park and sit for a while. Some of the fear that I’ve been carrying around with me for the past ten weeks, since that first phone call, has disappeared. Even though Matthew and Rachel both told me it wasn’t logical to suppose that it was the murderer phoning me, they didn’t know that I had seen Jane that night, so they couldn’t understand my fears. But Jane’s husband had all the facts and when I look at his reasoning – about why the calls can’t be coming from the murderer – it’s hard to fault it. But The Breakdown 293
what about his other reasoning, that the calls are coming from someone close to me?
Fear comes back, doubling in size, settling inside me, squeezing the breath from me to make more room for itself. It dries my mouth, sends names ricocheting around my brain. It could be anybody. One of my friends’
husbands, the lovely man who comes every few months to clean the windows, the man from the alarm company, the new neighbour down the road, a father from school.
I go through every man I know and end up suspecting them all. I don’t ask myself why any of them would want to do such a thing, I ask myself – why not? Any one of them could be a psychopath.
Not wanting Alex to come along with his little
daughters and find me sitting here, like a stalker, I leave the park. I should go home but what if I find that someone’s been in the house again? They’ve already got past the alarm once but how? Somebody with the technical knowledge to do so. The man from Superior Security Systems? I remember the window I found open after he left that day. Maybe he fixed it in some way so that he could come and go as he pleased. Is he my silent caller?
Reluctant to go back to the house, I drive back to
Browbury and find a hairdresser who can take me
without an appointment. It’s only when I’m sitting in front of the mirror with nothing to do except look at my face that I realise how much the last couple of months have taken out of me. I look gaunt and the hairdresser asks me if I’ve had a recent illness, because my hair
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shows signs of stress. I choose not to tell her that I have early-onset dementia or that I overdosed just a few days before.
I’m so long at the hairdresser that Matthew’s car is already in the drive when I get back. As I pull up outside the front door, it flies open.
‘Thank God! Where have you been?’ he asks, looking
frantic. ‘I’ve been worried about you.’
‘I went to Browbury to do some shopping and have
my hair cut,’ I say mildly.
‘Well, next time, leave a note, or phone and tell me you’re going out. You can’t just wander off, Cass.’
I smart at this. ‘I didn’t just wander off!’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Not really. I’m not going to start telling you my every move, Matthew. I didn’t before and I’m not going to start now.’
‘Before you didn’t have early-onset dementia. I love you, Cass, so of course I worry about you. At least get yourself another mobile so that I can contact you.’
‘All right,’ I say, putting myself in his shoes. ‘I’ll get one tomorrow, I promise.’
TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 29th
When the phone rings the next morning I think about what Alex said about the calls coming from someone I know and take the call.