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‘But he could’ve toldme.’
‘Maybe he feels like if he starts telling you his problems, it’d… I don’t know… unbalance things.’
The subtext drifts down, settles. He is weak, that’s what his wife is saying. Neil is the strong one, the one who listens and fixes and builds. That’s the dynamic his far-too-perceptive wife is pointing out to him. Matt gets himself into messes he can’t handle but that Neil can put right. To a certain extent Ava does this too: straightens him out. And hasn’t Neil done the same with Johnnie? Sorted out his mistakes? Now he, Matt, has to walk down this road he’s lived in most of his life to the man who has been his friend for all that time and pretend he doesn’t know what’s destroying him bit by bit because that,that, would reverse their roles so dramatically neither of them would know how to play their part. Instead, he will go there to be listened to and fixed and built back up after making a mess of things yet again.
‘… and then when I talked to Neil after the party, he was crying,’ Ava is saying, and he wonders how much he’s missed.
‘Poor guy.’ Matt sees Neil, there in the pouring rain the night of Abi’s disappearance. All that going on and there he was, solid as a rock. ‘I wish he’d told me.’
Ava turns away. ‘I still think there are a lot of other things he’s not telling us.’
His guts flip. Surely she isn’t going to keep going on about Neil. He walks slowly into the living room and sits on the sofa opposite.
She doesn’t object. But nor does she speak.
‘What things?’ he asks after a moment, feeling suddenly incredibly tired.
She shakes her head. ‘Things from the party. But what’s the point? You think I’m a lunatic.’
‘I don’t! I… I don’t. Please. I’m listening.’
She shakes her head, her bottom lip pushing petulantly against the top. But after a moment, she exhales.
‘Last night at the lock, I spoke to him. And it got very intense. We sort of ended up in the river.’
‘What? How the hell—’
She holds up her hand. ‘I’m not getting into that now.’
He exhales, his breath shaky. It is worse than he thought. She is ill, so ill. He wants to cry, to shake her, to hold her to him, but he must not, and he must not interrupt; he has to play this carefully, very carefully indeed.
‘OK,’ he says.
‘I believed him,’ she goes on. ‘Last night. But today I’ve been going over everything, and the thing is, I don’t know if I believe him anymore. Neil’s such an easy talker. But I realised, thinking about it, that when I asked him about Mr Sloth, he didn’t answer me, not really. He just got defensive and started asking what the hell I thought I was accusing him of.’
‘Of course he did, he—’ Consciously, Matt places his left hand over his right, to remind himself to stay quiet.
She closes her eyes, that familiar tic of irritation, and opens them again.
‘You don’t know the whole story,’ she says. ‘When I saw Jen and the girls yesterday, Jasmine recognised Mr Sloth by name. By name, Matt. Think about it. The only way she could know that toy by name is through Neil. I’ve never even met Jasmine and neither have you. And then, and I know you don’t want to hear this, she started going on about pockets, pockets, pockets, which is exactly what she called Neil at the party. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, don’t you see? Pockets is Jasmine’s name for Neil.’ She glares at him, as if to say: there.
He holds up his hand. ‘Can I speak?’
She nods.
‘I can explain that. At the party, Jennifer told me Neil had a game going with her. He used to hide her toys in his pocket and then pull them out – it made her laugh. That’s literally it. She probably calls all her toys Mr or Mrs.’
‘So why didn’t he say that?’
‘Because he had you in his face accusing him of having something to do with Abi’s death, in the middle of the night, right by where she’s supposed to have drowned. How the hell did you end up in the water anyway?’
Her eyelids flicker with irritation. He returns his hand to his wrist, squeezes it.
‘Whatever,’ she says. ‘There are other things, thingsI’vethought through properly. Like Neil being so upset at Jasmine recognising him. I know you’re going to say it wasn’t that, that it was Johnnie, and that’s what Neil said too, but I saw you with him under the willow tree at the party and it looked like he was freaking out. His reaction was way over the top, don’t you think?’ She looks up. Her eyes are bloodshot. ‘Don’t you think?’
‘Ave,’ he tries. ‘Listen to what you’re saying. You’re clutching at straws. There’s no connection, none whatsoever. What you’re saying is that even when Neil gives you a good reason, you don’t believe him. He’s our best friend, hon. Come on.’
‘Please.’ Once again she closes her eyes, apparently trying to keep control of this terrible rage lying immediately beneath the surface of her, as it has been for a year. ‘I know you want to believe him, and I didn’t put two and two together either at first. But the thing is, yesterday she was looking for Neil, calling out her nickname for him, don’t you see? Before the party, in our kitchen, he said he didn’t know the Lovegoods’ kids. But Jasmine recognised him in front of the entire street and he reacted badly, yes? And then she recognises Abi’s toy even though she’s never seen it, yes? You’ll forgive me if I’m starting to think something isn’t right. And… and it wasNeilwho found Mr Sloth that day. He came into the house and said he’d found it on the road, do you remember? But how do we know that’s true? I didn’t see him pick it up. Did you? And I know he’s your best friend and I know he helped—’
