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Nicole can’t remember what she said last time. She can barely remember anything that happened after she found Tom in the pool. She knows she will never, ever listen to opera again. Steen smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. The room feels doused in silence, only interrupted by a grandfather clock chiming somewhere in the Manor. Nicole hates the sound of it.
‘As much detail as possible,’ Jen says, her voice smooth as honey.
Nicole nods. ‘I got up at eight because I wanted to go to the County Show.’
‘The County Show?’
‘Up near Monmouth. They have all the farm animals, the cows, and sheep. Beautiful shire horses and ponies, too. They show them and give out rosettes and prizes. And they have food stalls. It’s a fun day out. I love animals. I really love sheep – I know that sounds funny, but I do. I’m even thinking of having a little smallholding here. Tom doesn’t feel the same, he can take it or leave it, he’s a city boy, so he didn’t want to come.’ She swallows. ‘He was still asleep when I got up, so I left him in bed while I got ready, and I snuck out. It’s a bit of a drive and I wanted to be there early. I left him a note on the kitchen counter to remind him where I was going.’
‘What time did you leave?’
‘Around nine. The show opened at nine-thirty.’
‘Was it normal for Tom to sleep late?’
She feels embarrassed by the question, not wanting them to judge Tom. Nicole is instinctively private about how she lives. When they bought their little house in Swindon, before they won the money, they didn’t socialise much with the neighbours, but kept themselves to themselves. They worked hard. All she wanted to do when she got home from her office job was kick off her work shoes, take off her bra, eat and sleep. It was a quiet, ordinary life. And while she’s been keen to make friends with the new neighbours here, that feels different. It’s about making something of their new life.
The truth is that Tom was a bit lazy before they won the money and he got lazier afterwards, but she’s not going to speak ill of him.
‘He didn’t sleep in every day,’ she says. ‘Only sometimes.’
Steen writes something down.
‘What kind of tea did you make?’
The question surprises her. ‘Mint tea. Why?’
‘We found two unfinished cups of coffee in the house, but no tea.’
‘I put my cup in the dishwasher. Tom isn’t, wasn’t, as tidy as me.’
She thinks back to her walk through the house yesterday morning, when she got home and was looking for Tom, when the opera was blaring so loud, she couldn’t hear herself think. She didn’t see any coffee cups and it’s the kind of thing she notices, especially since moving into the Glass Barn. She remembers cleaning the milk frother on the coffee machine, so he did use it. ‘Where were the cups?’ she asks.
‘In a room we assume is Tom’s den.’
‘With the Maserati prints on the wall?’
Steen nods. ‘That is his den,’ she says. She finds this strange. She didn’t look there when she was searching for him because he doesn’t spend much time in there. He prefers to be wherever she is. It makes her feel a little funny to think of him in his den that morning. Why would he break his usual routine of having coffee at the kitchen island?
‘We were wondering whether Tom might have had coffee with someone else yesterday morning,’ Jen says.
‘Who?’ she asks. ‘He probably had two cups of coffee. He drinks a lot of it.’
‘You’re not aware of any guests Tom might have been expecting?’
‘No. Nobody was coming. Tom didn’t really invite people around without me. I’m the one who organises all our social stuff. I mean, he has his old friends, but they’re mostly in Swindon. We don’t know people here yet, apart from the neighbours.’
‘What time did you arrive at the County Show?’
‘Sometime between nine-thirty and ten.’
‘Did you meet anyone there?’
‘No. I walked around, looked at the animals and the stalls. I watched a couple of the competitions. Time just disappeared.’
‘Did you buy anything at the show? Chat with any of the stallholders?’
For the first time she feels a sense of trepidation. She’s done nothing wrong so why does she feel as if they think she has? For a hot moment she thinks she might be sick, or faint, but it passes. She hugs her midriff. ‘I bought some fudge. And just for the record, I didn’t kill my husband.’
