Page 143 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

‘But you’ve never visited her.’

‘She’s got dementia. He says she wouldn’t like me to see her like that.’

‘That’s handy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Can you remember the name of the care home?’

‘Um . . . it’s the one not far from me . . . Greenacres . . .’

‘OK, let me call you right back.’

‘George?’

But he’s already hung up.

I sit at my desk, a cold dread creeping over me. I’m trying to keep the feeling of panic at bay. Don’t jump to conclusions. There’s always a logical explanation. You’re getting married in two weeks. I fiddle with my engagement ring. At this point I’d be an idiot if I wasn’t seriously questioning that decision. Is Theo even the kind of man I should be marrying? I try to imagine breaking it off, being on my own again, and I feel such a sense of loss. Theo’s a lot of things, but he’s not a cheater, I tell myself firmly. He’s not a liar. He’d never do anything to hurt me. He loves me. We’re investing in our future.

My phone starts ringing. It’s George video-calling me. I pick up.

‘They have no record of any resident called Mrs Stratin.’

‘She could have a different last name,’ I counter.

‘No one called Theo Stratin has ever visited see his mum.’

‘Maybe you spoke to a new member of staff,’ I suggest, but even I feel I’m reaching.

‘Visitors have to sign in and out. There’s no record.’

‘Maybe I’m getting mixed up, maybe the home is called a different name.’

‘Or maybe he’s lying, Maggie.’ George’s face is deadly serious. ‘And if he’s lying about that, what else is he lying about?’

Dominoes. It’s like a line of dominoes. If just one thing I thought was true is a lie, then everything starts toppling. My chest tightens. I feel suddenly faint. George is still talking to me, but my mind is miles away, racing back to Theo.

‘I need to speak to Theo,’ I blurt. ‘I need to find out what’s going on.’

I’m suddenly desperate to see him. To hear his explanations. To make all this go away.

‘I can drive up from London, it’ll just take a couple of hours. I’ll jump in the car, wait for me.’

‘No, it’s OK.’

‘I’m serious, Maggie, it could be dangerous.’

I snap back to see George, his face sombre. I’ve never seen him look so worried.

‘I won’t say anything until you get here,’ I say, but I know I’m only saying it to appease him. ‘I’ll meet you at my flat.’

‘OK, I’m jumping in my car now. My phone says I’ll be there in just over two hours.’ He pauses, his eyes meeting mine. ‘I don’t want you confront him until I’m there, promise?’

‘I promise,’ I fib.

Twenty minutes later I let myself into my flat. I walk up the stairs. Heart racing, but determined to remain calm. All the way over I’ve rehearsed what I’m going to say when I walk in. In my head are a list of questions. I need to stick to the script, to not be thrown off course by Theo, who is a master in twisting around a conversation so I’m always in the wrong.

I’m right, I know I’m right, I whisper to myself as I climb the stairs. Scrunching up my hands into fists by my sides. Feeling my nails digging into the palms of my hands.