He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘I’m sorry …’ He slumps onto the sofa, his head in his hands. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking.’
‘I’m sorry too,’ I say quietly. We need to break free from each other. Two damaged people in a damaged relationship.
He lifts his head up, his eyes red-rimmed. ‘I’ll stay here tonight. Will you be okay in the villa by yourself?’
I hesitate, imagining the villa without Josh. Can I really do this? Can I really end things? And then I think of Dorothea, and how strong she was. She lived there alone for years. I can’t stay with Josh just because I’m scared of being on my own. ‘I’ll be fine,’ I say. And then I leave with Solly, closing the door behind me.
48
Aiden
The bedroom where his precious Maisie died still looks and smells the same and Aiden can’t bring himself to clean it. Even the bed is still unmade, the silk eiderdown bunched up at the bottom where she’d kicked it off that last night, the lace curtains still closed. He eyes a framed photograph of their wedding that sits on her bedside table: her in a long, pale-blue dress and him in a dapper suit. It had been a registry office affair; neither of them wanted a traditional wedding, both having been married before. He sits on the edge of the bed and picks up the photograph, running his thumb gently over Maisie’s smiling face.
She’s at peace at last. Whoever killed her did her a favour. But it wasn’t him.
Yet how can he tell the police? If he does then he’s breaking a promise that he made to Maisie. He’d kept it close to his chest all these years and the truth would tarnish her memory and undo all the good.
But if he doesn’t tell the truth then he’ll go to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.
He’s been sleeping in the spare room since he was released from custody. He hasn’t been charged with anything yet. There isn’t enough evidence to suggest it was him who had poisoned his wife’s hot chocolate and he’d done just as his lawyer had advised and met every question with a No Comment answer. But that will only work for a while. He’s an easy target. An open and shut case.
But maybe there is a way around it. Maybe there is a way he can keep his promise to Maisie but help himself as well. Because he doesn’t want to spend years behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit. And he doesn’t want the world to think he killed his beautiful wife.
49
Imogen
Another night without much sleep. My body feels like it’s going through cold turkey without Josh. I know it’s for the best, that it’s over, but I’ve been with him most of my adult life. He made me feel like I’m not safe without him and now, every creak of the house, every slam of a car door, every sound in the garden, makes me break out in a cold sweat. In the end I let Solly sleep upstairs with me and I’m relieved when I hear the morning birdsong and see the sliver of light between the curtains.
The kitchen feels sterile without Josh here cooking pancakes, without the comforting smell of his coffee machine, and I experience that tug of loss again. And then I remember. Is he still spying on me now? I glance around the kitchen, trying to work out where he’s hidden the camera, but I can’t see anything. Then my eye focuses on the smoke detector. Isn’t that where spyware is usually hidden? It is in films. I pull back one of the chairs and stand on it, twisting the plastic case away from the detector, and peer inside, almostdisappointed when I don’t see anything other than the battery. I replace the case and step off the chair. I cast my eyes around for another hiding place. Could it be in one of the photo frames? I recall the things he’d called me yesterday too – a slut, a liar – and feel a thump of anger. Was he always this way? Surely not. Although I’ve always been good at sticking my head in the sand. The truth is, I didn’t want to see Josh for the person he is because to do so would mean examining our relationship and I wanted to believe everything was perfect. Josh and his mum have been my family since I was eighteen. I leaned heavily on them, and I was terrified that if I left Josh I’d have nobody. But now I realize that isn’t true. I have Alison, and Gareth and Lila. And I have Rachel. And I have a future that’s free of a man controlling my every move, telling me who I can and cannot be friends with, distrusting me, spying on me, slowly chipping away at my confidence.
Yet, despite all this, I still feel too sick to eat and I just sip at my morning coffee.
My phone pings with a text and my heart lurches in case it’s Josh. But it’s Alison.
I’m visiting Dad tomorrow – I’ve got us a visiting pass just in case you have a change of heart. I’ll be outside the prison at 11 a.m.
My resolve wavers. Can I really do this? But it could be my last chance and I still have question marks around the replica mask and the brooch found on Dorothea’s sculpture. I tap a quick text back telling her I’ll be there even though the thought makes me feel like vomiting.
The doorbell rings and my nausea intensifies.Josh?I can’t face him right now. I go to the front door, my heart pounding, relieved when I see it’s not Josh standing at the front door, but Harry. How did he get through the gates?
‘Sorry to call so early,’ he says when I open the door. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you up.’
‘Not at all. Truth is, I’ve been awake for hours.’
‘Your side gate was open. Hope all’s okay?’
I frown. Did Josh open it? Or maybe the keypad isn’t working properly. I’ll need to take a look at that but the thought of trying to figure it out without Josh’s help makes me feel overwhelmed. ‘Just a rough night.’
He looks down at his feet awkwardly and then back up at me. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Dennis.’
‘Do you mean Sidney S. Crane?’ I raise an eyebrow.
‘Ah. You know!’ He thrusts his hands in his pockets.
‘Yep. Come in.’ I show him into the kitchen and make him a coffee.
‘When did you realize that Dennis was the one behindA Woman in Turmoil?’ I ask when I’ve joined him at the table. Solly, after his run around the garden, is flaked out by the back door in a patch of morning sunlight.
