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‘Hello,’ Sasha says. Her mouth becomes instantly dry. ‘You’re here late,’ she says, and hopes they can’t hear her nerves.
Jen smiles. ‘Hi. I’m sorry to call on you at this hour. This is Detective Constable Finn Macdonald. Would it be possible to borrow a minute or two of your time?’ Sasha sees that Jen has a small twig in her hair, like the one she just removed from her own head. Finn Macdonald looks dishevelled and sweaty, too. It was definitely them she just ran from.
‘Has something happened?’
‘It might be easier to have this chat inside. Is Olly here?’
Sasha considers saying no, but that could have consequences. ‘He is.’
‘If we could talk to you both that would be great.’
‘Let’s go into the kitchen.’ She leads the way and puts the kettle on.
‘Is your housekeeper here?’ Jen asks.
‘She’s staying at the Barn at nights. To help Nicole,’ she says, though she suspects that Jen must know this already. ‘I’ll fetch Olly.’
She goes to his study and knocks softly at the door.
‘Come in,’ he calls. He stands in front of the window, his back to her. His shoulders are raised and tense. She can see hisreflection in the windowpane. His expression is dark, and she wonders if they’re going to be able to get through this without giving anything away.
‘It’s the police,’ she says. ‘They want a word with us.’
‘Can’t they make an appointment?’
It’s not what she was expecting him to say, and it aggravates her to the point of wanting to scream. Why does he have to be so arrogant when everything he’s doing, his occupation of this room, the years he’s spent in here, the time everyone else has donated to support him and his work, is predicated on the lie that he’s talented when in fact, based on what she’s read, he hasn’t got a gift at all? And why does he have to be so arrogant when he’s just murdered a man?
‘Let’s just do this,’ she says.
He doesn’t move. She forces herself to go to him and wrap her arms around his chest. She leans her head against his shoulder. ‘Please,’ she says. ‘I don’t want them thinking we have something to hide. I want them to go away. They’ll only be back tomorrow if we refuse.’
He sighs, a cross little exhalation that she hears and feels beneath her hands.
‘Alright,’ he says. ‘Let’s go and find out which tree they’re barking up now.’
She marvels at his confidence that he can stay a step ahead of the detectives. She’s not so sure that she can; she feels dangerously unmoored, though she’s going to give it her best shot to stay ahead of everyone.
72
FRIDAY
Nicole
Nicole lies, exhausted, on the chaise longue in her living area. The drone has been gone for a while and she put the blinds back up and turned off all but the dimmest of lights, so she didn’t feel on display. Having the police outside makes her feel safer, though they’re not there now because they’ve had to move to the end of the lane to keep the press away. They told her they’re going to check on her every half-hour.
The sun has gone down and the cliffs glow pale in the watery light of the moon. She’s missing Tom terribly. I must keep his memory alive, she thinks. His face, his words, the looks they shared, the moments of quiet magic. Even after they won the money, those were the most important things in her life. Her hand moves to her belly. If only, she thinks. They’d just begun trying for a baby. If only they’d had a chance to try for longer.
On a whim, or maybe because grief is making her masochistic, she checks the fertility app on her phone. It tells her that her period was due yesterday. She blinks and double-checks. She’s usually incredibly regular. Most likely her period is late because of the trauma of Tom’s death, but she can’t help feeling a spark of hope. She’ll get a pregnancy test if her period still hasn’t come in a few days, she decides, but not yet, and in the meantime, she mustn’t let that hope grow into anything bigger, because it could be nothing. It’s most likely to be nothing.
The idea makes her restless, though. What if she is pregnant? That would be incredible. Feeling energised, she gets up. She feels drawn to the pool. Maybe if she goes out there, she’ll feel close to Tom again. It’s so much nicer to think about this than all the negative things. Those horrible clues that might add up to him being murdered or having an affair. She doesn’t care if she’s in denial; this is what she wants to think about: her and Tom and the possibility of their baby.
She’s glad Anna’s gone to bed, or she might be tempted to share the news, and she shouldn’t. Not until she knows it’s true. She’s only one day late, for goodness’ sake.
Nicole steps out of the house and onto the decking around the pool. The lights come on automatically as they should do, a mellow configuration that Tom programmed just for her. She slips off her sandals and sits on the side with her feet in the shallow end. The water is cool enough to be a small shock at first, but she soon gets used to it. Stars fill the sky in the breathtaking way they do here, where there’s so little light pollution. Many nights this summer she and Tom have lain onthe sunbeds out here at night, gazing up, guessing at the constellations, making up names for them, because neither of them can recognise anything apart from Orion’s Belt.
She looks across to the sunbeds, and screams. A man is standing between them. He’s a dark silhouette against one of the lights.
‘No,’ he says. ‘It’s okay. Please don’t be afraid.’
