But you can’t return a gift that’s been carved into your mind. One that would stay with you always. But there was more you didn’t know. About the alchemist’s curse, about the significance that lay not just in essence, but in intent. Meant to heal, to soothe, with only the best of intention. Not arrogantly, misguidedly, selfishly, tipping alchemic scales, that would go on swinging until one day, what you’d done would be redressed.
Amy
Chapter Fifteen
It’s another cold morning when the air barely moves, the sun silvery behind a thin layer of cloud, as I stand in limbo amongst frozen banks of chamomile and creeping thyme. The silence broken when my phone buzzes with a call from Jess.
‘Mum, I’m worried about you. I can’t stop thinking about what’s happened.’ Jess sounds flustered. ‘Nothing makes sense. I’m coming back at the weekend. I need to talk to you.’
The sense of urgency in her voice fills me with alarm. ‘Jess, there’s no need. You’ve only just gone back to uni. And I’m fine. The police are still investigating, and it’s time for me to start moving on.’
‘It isn’t just that.’ She hesitates. ‘We’ve been studying a book about a psychopath. He pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes – like his wife, the police, his whole family … Mum, I know you won’t like this, but in so many ways, he reminds me of Matt.’
I’m stunned, then horrified. ‘I know you mean well, Jess, but this isn’t helpful. Cath’s Oliver … maybe. But whatever Matt’s done, he’s no psychopath. If he was, I’d have noticed.’
She’s silent for a moment. ‘I’m not so sure. Don’t draw any conclusions. Not until we’ve talked. I’ll bring the book.’ Her voice is small as she adds, ‘Be careful, Mum.’
Her words take me by surprise. ‘Of course I will. You too, honey.’
Her call unsettles me, then as I look around the kitchen, a memory blazes into my mind, of when Matt first moved in. The walls had been ochre, the floor covered in green carpet. After ripping them up, he’d wanted to repaint the walls in neutral colours, insisting on his choice of rug for the newly sanded floorboards, replacing them in the kitchen with dark slate. He had clear ideas about furniture, too, changing the sofas Jess and I had had for years, for expensive new ones. I’d been slightly shocked at how emphatic he was, how easily he spent money, but I’d told myself change was good. I’d got too used to it being just me and Jess. Now, it was his home too.
But no matter how I try to rationalise things, Jess’s words play on repeat in my mind. Matt pulled the wool over my eyes, there’s no question. And she’s trying to help, I know that, but being a liar doesn’t make him a psychopath.
Looking across the garden, taking in the leaves scattered on the ground, I get my coat. Since Matt disappeared, my usual motivation has been absent and my garden has been somewhat neglected. Going outside, after raking them up, I fetch the wheelbarrow, loading it up from the mountain of recently delivered compost.
By the time I wheel it to the new flowerbeds, my hands are cold from the frost on its handles, that’s melted and re-frozen, sticking my gloves to them. But I go on. Digging is hard work, but I force myself to the point it hurts, only the fading light stopping me, when I’m too exhausted to go on.
*
That evening, while I’m heating up my supper, Jess calls again.
Picking up my phone, I force an air of brightness. ‘Hi, Jess. Is everything OK?’ It’s unusual to hear from her twice in one day.
‘It isn’t me I called about.’ She sounds agitated. ‘I wanted to check you’re OK.’ She hesitates, before adding, ‘Have you heard anything more from the police?’
‘No – but they said they’d be in touch if they find anything.’
‘I’ve been thinking, Mum. We ought to start our own investigation – into Matt’s past.’
I interrupt her. ‘It’s in the hands of the police, Jess. It’s best left to them.’
‘I know you think that.’ Jess pauses. ‘But I’ve thought about this. It really is seriously weird that after you two being together for two years, all I know about him is where he works and that he loves Indonesia … And I don’t even know if he’s been there.’
‘Jess, we’ve talked about this. He’s talked to me about stuff.’ I’m slightly exasperated. ‘There’s nothing weird – I promise you.’
‘Why do you always do this?’ Jess’s voice is fierce.
‘Do what?’ I’m not sure what she’s getting at.
‘Underplay things. It’s not normal that he doesn’t talk about his past. OK.’ She challenges me. ‘You tell me. What do you know about him?’
I hesitate. ‘Before we were together, he lived on his own. He’d just broken up with a woman called Mandy. It sounded like she was a bit of a psycho when they split up. I think that’s why he lived alone for so long.’ But already I’m thinking of what Lara told me, about the women in his life – wondering what else he’d hidden from me.
‘What about his family?’ Jess demands. ‘Any siblings? Old school friends? I know you were going to meet his parents at your wedding, but there must be other family members. I can’t believe you haven’t tried to find them.’ There’s a slightly accusing tone in her voice.
‘I tried to call his parents, but I had the wrong number. There isn’t anyone else to find.’ I rack my brains. ‘There was a cousin who was coming to the wedding, who cancelled a couple of weeks before. But there was no-one else in his family he was in contact with. Not all families are close, Jess, for all kinds of reasons.’
‘Don’t you think it’s odd you never met his parents?’ She fires the question at me.
