Lock Me In. Kate Simants

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      I fiddled with the keys, rolling the cork float-ball keyring around in my palm. Mae nodded at them.

      ‘Mr Jupp couldn’t get his to work. Reckons the locks had been changed.’

      I nodded. ‘First time I’ve used these ones. The old locks had just got rusty.’ Matt had said he’d been meaning to change them for ages, and had given me the set of keys as an afterthought, less than a week ago. He’d rolled down the window of his car and called me back after we’d already said goodbye outside the flat. Keep them to yourself, he’d said. You never know who might want to break in and swipe my dirty underpants.

      ‘You know why? Security worries?’

      I gave it half a moment’s thought, and shook my head. ‘Not that I know of. No. He would have said.’

      ‘Sure? His colleague said the hospital had been expecting his laptop back, so—’

      ‘He’s lost it.’

      ‘OK,’ he said, his notebook out now and pen poised. ‘Details?’

      ‘I don’t know any more than that. He asked me to check around the flat.’

      ‘But you didn’t find it?’

      ‘No,’ I said, irritable. But now I thought about it, Matt hadn’t found it and I hadn’t asked. Guilt pecked at me as I ran that phone call back: he’d sounded really worried, but I hadn’t offered to help. ‘Does it matter?’

      Mae made a search me face. ‘It wasn’t … stolen, or anything? You’re sure?’

      ‘Look, I really don’t—’ I started, then I broke off. Processed what he was saying. ‘Why did the hospital want it back?’

      Mae took a breath before he answered me. There was a look on his face that I couldn’t interpret. ‘West London NHS Trust had him on rolling freelance contracts,’ he said, watching for my reaction.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Until the end of last week.’

      I blinked. Thinking, no. He’d have said.

      ‘Did he not tell you he’d lost his job, Ellie?’

      I said nothing.

      ‘I have to ask, do you have any problems in your relationship, would you say?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Because that would seem like a rather big omission, if you know what I mean.’

      ‘We’re fine.’ It came out hard and loud, and he blinked at me. I felt Siggy spark at the base of my skull, goading, satisfied.

      Were we fine?

      Mae nodded solemnly, appraising me for a moment, then went to the table.

      ‘So there’s this.’ He handed it to me.

      I took it. A list, printed out. Things you’d take if you were going away. I held it with both hands, the burn of tears starting up in the corners of my eyes.

      A bloom of hope spread across me. Did this mean he’d just taken a trip? But if it did—

       Toothbrush, toothpaste, razor

      then he’d left. He’d left me.

      There was a blue-biro tick next to every item. I scanned it again, a storm started spinning in my head.

      ‘Anyone could have written this,’ I said eventually. ‘Where’s the pen? Huh? Are we looking for the pen, for fingerprints?’

      Mae spread his hands. ‘Ellie—’

      ‘No. He wouldn’t have just disappeared.’ Not without telling me. He loved me. He loved me. I brushed the hair out of my face and handed the list back to him, defiant. ‘This doesn’t mean anything.’

      ‘Why do you say that?’

      ‘Because we’re happy, that’s why.’

      We were. There was no way Matt had been planning to go away. A few weeks ago we’d been talking about a trip, a long weekend. Mum was so worried, wouldn’t say why in front of Matt even though she knew he and I had talked about it all, but she went on and on about the locks on the hotel doors. Matt hadn’t flinched. When she got emotional, demanding to know how he planned on dealing with Siggy, asking did he really understand what he was getting himself into, he put his arm around me. I love your daughter, Christine. Nothing is going to change that.

      ‘What if he didn’t write it?’ I went into the kitchen and turned on the tap to fill the kettle. ‘I mean, it doesn’t prove anything, does it?’

      Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I realized the water pump was rumbling, but nothing was coming out. The tap spat droplets and air. His water tank was empty.

      I turned and checked the fridge: a Coke would do just as well. I opened the door, and looked inside. Dark.

      Mae was standing next to me. ‘It’s been switched off.’

      Meticulously cleaned and emptied, too. Mae paused for a while, then gently shut the door, leaving my hand to drop down to my side.

      ‘Sometimes I go away in the winter,’ he said, in a slow, quiet voice. ‘Take my little girl snowboarding. I turn the water off in my flat and run all the taps until there’s no water left in them. In case it freezes in the pipes, and the pipes burst.’

      I opened the breadbin. ‘He wasn’t going away.’ The breadbin was empty.

      ‘And I use up everything in my fridge,’ he said, as if I hadn’t spoken, ‘and give it a good clean.’

      I pushed past him, cursing the lack of space, the fact that there is nowhere to go on a stupid tiny boat, nowhere to escape to. ‘I’ve said he wasn’t going away.’ I dropped onto the sofa and drew my hands over my face. I wanted my mum.

      ‘Ellie.’

      When I opened my eyes, he was looking at my neck. I pulled my chin down fast, but it was too late.

      Slowly, he asked, ‘What happened there, then?’

      He wouldn’t have asked about the scar. He meant the bruises. ‘It’s nothing.’

      ‘No. It’s not.’

      ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

      ‘No?’ Mae came round and sat next to me, the other end of the sofa. ‘Doesn’t look like nothing.’

      I let all my breath out at once. ‘Well, it is.’

      Leaning forward, he said, ‘Was it Matt? Did he hurt you, Ellie?’

      ‘No! God, no! He would never. He’s not like that. No.’

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