‘Are you going to answer it?’
‘I can’t. I can’t lie to him. But he’s here in the hotel. How am I going to avoid him? I can’t do this! I can’t lie! Toby, what should I do?’ I see he’s left a message, so I play it on speaker. He says he’s in the conservatory downstairs having breakfast. He wants to know if I’m coming to join him.
‘What do you want to do? We could go down just to show our faces for ten minutes, if you feel up to it. We don’t have to talk much.’
‘No. No way. I can’t go down there. How can I face everyone – Madeline, Nick, your parents, my dad? It’s impossible. No. You’ll have to go down by yourself. Tell them I’m still asleep, or I that I don’t feel well. Say I’ve got a hangover if you like. I don’t care what you say. But I’m not going down there. I can’t.’
‘Okay, Zo. Okay. Don’t worry. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. Do you want me to call your dad back? Tell him you’re not feeling well?’
‘Maybe.’ I let out a breath. ‘I don’t know. Do you think it’ll be strange if I don’t go down? Suspicious? I really can’t face it. All I want to do is crawl under the duvet and hide.’
‘Then do that. And no, it won’t seem strange at all – not if I tell them you’re ill. No one else apart from Nick has any inkling of what happened back then, so it’s not going to look suspicious. Go back to bed if you like. I’ll order room service and stay with you, okay?’ He sits and puts an arm around me. Pulls me close to him and I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent.
‘Thank you,’ I murmur. ‘I’m not hungry. But you order some breakfast for yourself.’
‘You sure you don’t want anything? Some toast? Orange juice?’
I shake my head, feeling close to tears again. ‘No thanks. I’m just going to have another sleep, so why don’t you go down on your own. Make excuses for me.’
‘I don’t like to leave you up here alone. Not while you’re so upset.’ He rubs my back soothingly.
‘I’ll be fine. I just need some time on my own to try to get my head around it. Go. I’ll feel better knowing you’re putting everyone’s mind at rest. Especially my dad’s.’
‘Okay.’ Toby stands. ‘If you’re sure.’
‘I am.’
My husband kisses me on the lips and gives my hand a squeeze. I manage a small, unconvincing smile before he picks up his phone and the door key and leaves the room.
Twenty-Eight
NOW
After Toby leaves me to go down to breakfast, my brain continues its frenzied pinwheeling from one panicked thought to another. I realise that I forgot to tell Toby to come up with another excuse for later, because we’re all due to have lunch together and then go to the spa this afternoon. And I can say with absolute certainty that I won’t be doing that. I should text him to tell him to let everyone know that I’m not up for doing anything today. But I don’t have the energy even for that.
I wobble to my feet and walk over to the window, staring out at the snowy landscape. A Range Rover disappears down the driveway, which is miraculously clear of snow. They must have gritted the drive last night. I blink and try to marshal my thoughts, but they won’t stop skipping around. The skin on my face feels dry and taut, my eyes scratchy, my throat constricted. I don’t know how I managed to get any sleep last night. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep again. Not with the knowledge of what I’ve done.
I cast my mind back. My brain starts speeding, flipping through everything that happened on my wedding day. How can my mind have locked the truth away from me for so long? Why am I only just now beginning to remember?
I feel as though my thoughts are caught in a loop – trying to recall those forgotten events and then telling myself that it’s all impossible. I’m going to quickly drive myself mad if I don’t stop. I need to do something to distract myself from all of this. Just for a while, to calm myself down. I pick up my phone from the table. There’s only nine per cent battery life left, but I decide to call the children just to hear their voices. To have some normality.
Vivian answers the home phone and asks how last night went. I give her some vaguely positive reply in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own. She says that the children have been as good as gold. I speak to Alice and Jamie in turn, hearing their excitement about the snow, letting them ramble on about each little thing they’ve done since we’ve been away. It’s a blessing to hear their innocent voices. To be transported for a moment to my regular world where my sister isn’t dead, and I’m not a murderer.
‘I miss you so much, Mummy,’ Jamie says.
‘I miss Mum too!’ Alice calls, not to be outdone.
I smile and tell them that I miss them more and can’t wait to see them tomorrow. As I end the call, I realise I’m crying.
I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand and locate the phone charger in my suitcase. Spying a plug socket beneath my bedside table, I connect my phone and set it on the table. I’m startled by a knock at the door. Then I realise it’s probably housekeeping.
‘No thanks!’ I call, resolving to put out the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign as soon as they’ve gone.
There’s another knock and I’m about to call out again to say I don’t need them when a familiar voice comes through the door.
‘Zoe! It’s Dad.’
My heart begins to race. I thought Toby was going to put him off coming up here. What if Dad sees me and can tell something’s wrong? What if he starts asking questions?
