By the time I get back to the house, through the dusk, I make out a shadowy figure near the door. Fleetingly imagining it’s Matt, my heart instinctively leaps. But if it was him, he wouldn’t be standing there – he’d be inside. Only then do I see the police car, recognise PC Page waiting for me.
‘Sorry to drop in like this.’ In the dim glow of the outside light, her face is clouded. ‘Do you mind if I come in? There are one or two things I’d like to talk to you about.’
I nod, my fingers clumsy as I fumble with my key. ‘Of course.’ But I know the police don’t turn up unannounced with good news. Inside, my stomach churns as I anticipate the worst.
Jess
Matt came into our lives on a day of burnished copper leaves and an autumn breeze scented with wood smoke; in one of those before and after moments life is filled with. My mother and I walking up the village High Street, past the characterful shopfronts and the pub where people were spilling out onto the pavement, our lives as they’d been for as long as I could remember. My mother in skinny jeans and a silky black top, me in boots and a short red dress.
We were on our way to my friend Sasha’s parents’ annual party, with live music and a barbecue in the grounds of their house. Up a narrow lane in the village, a wooden door in a flint wall opened into their front garden. I remember the roses growing up the house that were still in flower, their scent mingling with that of the smoke; the neatly mown lawn, its single apple tree heavy with fruit, the front door open, so that sounds from the party drifted outside.
All of those moments belonged to before. As we went inside, making our way through to the big kitchen, a throng of people milled. I watched a man glance towards my mother, a curiousexpression crossing his face, almost as if he was waiting for her. Then I saw their eyes meet. Felt that moment in my bones when before became after.
I couldn’t have known, but after that, nothing would ever be the same. From the start, he unnerved me. It was the way his eyes cruised restlessly, hovering on other women, until they came to rest on my mother.
He was too contrived, too watchful. I was sure he was playing a game. When he made his way over to her, I watched her body language, defensive at first, slightly awkward; his persistence, her defences slowly being eroded; her face growing more animated as he leaned in closer. There was an expression in her eyes I hadn’t seen before. A look in his, as he turned round and his eyes locked with mine, hostile, challenging me; holding my gaze for several seconds, before deliberately smiling. There was no question he knew who I was, that this man was playing a game with both of us.
‘Who’s that?’ I whispered to Sasha, as soon as I had the chance.
‘How should I know? Why?’
‘He’s flirting with my mother.’
Sasha looked at me as though I was missing something. ‘That’s good, isn’t it? I mean, you’re going to uni soon. Wouldn’t it be good if she met someone?’
‘Yes.’ I wanted my mother to find someone. But he reminded me of a cat prowling, toying with its prey, reeling it in, before pouncing.
Amy
Chapter Six
I’m on edge as PC Page follows me through to the kitchen, where I take off my coat and hang it over the back of one of the chairs, before going to close the curtains. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. Would you like tea? Have a seat.’ Putting off the moment I know is coming, I nod towards the table.
‘No – thanks.’ Pulling out one of the chairs and sitting down, she looks at me. ‘Amy … why don’t you sit down?’
I tense, as fear gets the better of me. It’s the tone of her voice, her deliberate hesitation, preparing me. Pulling out a chair, my stomach churns as I sit down.Oh God. Has the worst happened?‘What is it? Have you found Matt?’
‘Not yet.’ Pausing, she shakes her head. ‘But there’s something I have to tell you.’ She hesitates again, her eyes steady as she looks at me. ‘There’s no easy way to say this. But yesterday, we had another report of a missing person. Another man. The call came from a woman in Brighton, reporting her partner as missing. She couldn’t be sure for how long, exactly. They don’t live together. It sounds as though they lead quite independent lives. Anyway …’ Her eyes lookdirectly at me. ‘We took his details, including a physical description. Then she gave us his name.’ She pauses. ‘Matthew Roche. I’m sorry Amy, but we’ve every reason to believe it’s your fiancé.’
I stare at her in disbelief. Then I shake my head and get up, walking across the room, standing with my back to her, trying to take in what she’s saying, before turning back to look at her. ‘That’s impossible. It couldn’t be him.’ What she’s suggesting is outrageous.
‘I agree it doesn’t sound plausible.’ PC Page is silent for a moment. ‘It’s exactly what I thought, at first. But one of our officers went over there with the photo you gave us. This woman had photos, too – not just of him, but of them together. She described his job as a management consultant at Orbital. She knows about you, too.’ She breaks off, watching me. When she goes on, her voice is more sympathetic. ‘There’s no question it’s him. Your Matt. It very much looks as though he’s leading a double life.’
There’s a moment of silence as I stare at her, reeling, before the shock hits me. Then common sense kicks in. ‘There’s no way.’ I shake my head, adamant. ‘He can’t be. Matt lives here. With me. He wouldn’t live a lie. We’re getting married. We’ve written our vows. His are here – somewhere. I saw them, only a couple of days ago.’ I’m clutching at straws as I frantically search for the piece of paper. ‘He goes to work, then he comes home. To me,’ I add, desperately, unable to find it, sitting down again. ‘There aren’t enough hours in the day for anyone else.’ But as I speak, I’m remembering what David said about all the time Matt had been taking off, of how convinced I’d been that he’d made a mistake. But if what she’s saying is right, maybe he hasn’t. Maybe instead of being at work, Matt’s been withher.
‘I know this must come as a terrible shock to you.’ Her voice is gentle and I know as she speaks, there’s more.
‘Please, just tell me.’ I’m dreading what else she’s going to say, but however unpalatable the truth might be, limbo is worse.
PC Page hesitates, then speaks slowly. ‘The woman told us that Matt, her boyfriend, was with her the evening he disappeared. She even knew he’d called you about the non-existent American client. She also told us he was about to leave his fiancée for her. Their wedding was coming up. He knew he had to tell her, but he was waiting to find the right moment. I’m so sorry, Amy. He isn’t even hiding behind an alias.’
It has to be a mistake. But as I stare at her, I can’t think straight. Instead, my mind is all over the place, thinking about what the woman in Brighton said, about Matt insuring our wedding without telling me. And now this.
She goes on. ‘Allegedly he was at her flat that evening. He left there just before eleven. He was planning to come back here and talk to you – that same night. But no-one’s seen him since.’
As the weight of his duplicity catches up with me, I feel my world collapse into ruins. Our wedding’s just days away. It was supposed to have been the happiest of days – the start of the rest of our lives. I thought he loved me. He wouldn’t leave me. Not when we’d planned a future together. As my mind takes me back to when Dominic left me, the same sense of betrayal fills me. I need Matt. Staring at the table, I feel desperate.
‘Who is she? You have to tell me who she is.’
