The Breakdown. B A Paris

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ it seriously once we’d been married a year. Which is about now. Usually, it’s a constant thought in my mind but now it seems so far away I can’t reach it.

      Matthew’s arms are still around me. ‘Did you get what you wanted?’ he asks.

      ‘Yes, we bought Susie some luggage.’

      ‘Are you all right? You seem a bit down.’

      Suddenly, the need to be on my own is overwhelming. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ I say, pulling away from him. ‘I think I’ll get an aspirin.’

      I go upstairs, get a couple of aspirins from the bathroom and swallow them down with water from the tap. As I lift my head I catch sight of my face in the mirror and search it anxiously, looking for something that could give me away; something which would tell people that everything isn’t as it should be. But there’s nothing to show I’m any different to the person I was when I married Matthew a year ago, just the same chestnut hair and the same blue eyes staring back at me.

      I turn my back on my reflection and go into the bedroom. My pile of clothes has been moved from the chair to the now-made bed, a gentle hint from Matthew to tidy them away. On a normal day I would be amused but today I feel irritated. My eyes fall on my great-grandmother’s writing desk and I remember the money Rachel spoke about, the hundred and sixty pounds that everybody gave me for Susie’s gift. If I took the money, it would be in there, it’s where I always put things I want to keep safe. Taking a deep breath, I unlock the little drawer on the left-hand side of the writing desk and pull it out. Lying inside is a scruffy pile of notes. I count them; there’s a hundred and sixty pounds exactly.

      In the warm peace of my bedroom the hard facts of what I forgot suddenly loom over me. To forget a name or a face is normal but to forget suggesting a gift and taking money for it isn’t.

      ‘Did you take some aspirin?’ Matthew says from the doorway, making me jump.

      ‘I quickly push the drawer shut. ‘Yes, and I feel much better.’

      ‘Good.’ He smiles. ‘I’m going to have a sandwich. Do you want one? I thought I’d have mine with a beer.’

      The thought of food still makes my stomach churn. ‘No, go ahead. I’ll get something later. I’ll just have a cup of tea.’

      I follow him downstairs and sit down at the kitchen table. He puts a mug of tea in front of me and I watch him as he takes bread from the cupboard, a slab of cheddar from the fridge and makes himself a quick sandwich, pushing the two together and eating it without a plate.

      ‘That murder has been on the radio all morning,’ he says, crumbs dropping to the floor. ‘The road’s been closed and the police are all over it, looking for evidence. It’s insane to think it’s all happening five minutes from here!’

      I try not to flinch and look absent-mindedly at the tiny white crumbs on our terracotta stone floor. They look as if they’re stranded at sea with no help in sight. ‘Do they know anything about her yet?’ I ask.

      ‘The police must do because they’ve advised her next of kin but they haven’t released any details. It’s awful to think what someone must be going through right now. Do you know what I can’t get out of my mind? That it could have been you if you’d been stupid enough to take that road last night.’

      I stand, my mug in my hand. ‘I think I’ll go and lie down for a bit.’

      He looks at me, concerned. ‘Are you sure you’re OK? You don’t look great. Perhaps we shouldn’t go to the party tonight?’

      I smile sympathetically because he’s not a party person, he’d much rather have friends over for a casual dinner. ‘We have to, it’s Susie’s fortieth.’

      ‘Even if you still have a headache?’ I hear the ‘but’ in his voice and sigh.

      ‘Yes,’ I say firmly. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t have to talk to Rachel.’

      ‘I don’t mind talking to her, it’s just those disapproving looks she always gives me. She makes me feel as if I’ve done something wrong. Did you remember to get my jacket from the cleaner’s, by the way?’

      My heart sinks. ‘No, sorry, I forgot.’

      ‘Oh. Well, never mind, I guess I can wear something else.’

      ‘Sorry,’ I say again, thinking of the present and all the other things I’ve forgotten lately. A few weeks ago, he had to come and rescue me and my trolley-load of food at the supermarket when I left my purse on the kitchen table. Since then, he’s found milk where the detergent should be and detergent in the fridge, and has had to deal with an angry call from my dentist over an appointment I forgot I’d made. So far he’s laughed it off, telling me I’m in overload because of the end of the school year. But like with Susie’s present, there have been other times when my memory has failed me, times he doesn’t know about. I’ve driven to school without my books, forgotten both a hair appointment and a lunch with Rachel, and last month I drove twenty-five miles to Castle Wells, unaware I’d left my bag at home. The thing is, although he knows that Mum died when she was fifty-five and that towards the end she was forgetful, I’ve never actually come out and told him that for the three years before she died, I had to wash, dress and feed her. Neither does he know that she was diagnosed with dementia when she was 44, just ten years older than I am now. Back then, I couldn’t believe he would still marry me if he thought there was a possibility that a dozen or so years down the line, I’d be diagnosed with the same thing.

      I know now he would do anything for me but too much time has passed. How can I admit that I held things back from him? He’d been so open about not being able to have children and I’d repaid his honesty with dishonesty; I’d allowed my own selfish fears to get in the way of the truth. How I’m paying for that now, I think as I lie down on the bed.

      I try to relax but images of last night flash through my mind, one after the other, like stills in a film. I see the car ahead of me on the road, I see myself swerving out around it, I see myself turning my head to look at the driver. And then I see the blur of a woman’s face, looking back at me through the window.

      *

      In the middle of the afternoon, Matthew comes to find me. ‘I think I’ll go to the gym for a couple of hours. Unless you want to go for a walk or something?’

      ‘No, it’s fine,’ I say, grateful to have some time on my own. ‘I need to sort through the stuff I brought back from school. If I don’t do it now, I never will.’

      He nods. ‘Then we can both have a well-deserved glass of wine when I get back.’

      ‘Deal,’ I say, accepting his kiss. ‘Have fun.’

      I hear the front door slam but, instead of going into the study to sort out my work things, I stay at the kitchen table and let my mind clamber over the thoughts in my head. The house phone rings – it’s Rachel.

      ‘You’ll never guess what?’ she says breathlessly. ‘You know that young woman who was murdered? Well, it turns out she worked in my company.’

      ‘Oh, God,’ I mutter.

      ‘I know, it’s awful, isn’t it? Susie’s in bits. She feels terrible and is cancelling the party – she just can’t bring herself to celebrate СКАЧАТЬ