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“Um—a mole between two of his toes, between the big toe and the next one.”
“Can you remember which foot?”
I take a breath, rub my eyes. “The left.”
“Anything else that might help us identify the body?” Officer Allson asks.
“No, I can’t think of anything.”
And then I stare into space.
The wait until a phone call to Officer Garrat confirms that the body is Ned’s is interminable. By the time it comes, already mentally and physically exhausted, it isn’t hard for me to seem distraught. The relief is so huge I can’t stop crying. Ned really is dead, he will never be able to harm me.
When I’m calmer, Officer Garrat tells me that I need to go with her to the police station to make a statement. Taking my blanket, I go upstairs to get my suitcase, gathering Ned’s things together at the same time. Officer Garrat follows silently. She is coming across as kind, but I see her eyes skim the room, the detective in her searching for clues.
“We need someone to officially identify Ned’s body,” Officer Garrat says respectfully, when we’re in the police car. “Is that something you think you’d like to do?”
I shake my head quickly. “I—I don’t think I could. Anyway, I think someone from his family would want to, I don’t know, his father maybe.”
Later, much later, when I think I’ll scream from the need to be alone, to have space to think and digest everything that’s happened,Officer Garrat, who has remained by my side all day, drives me to Ned’s house in Wentworth. I want to beg not to be taken there, but I can’t. Even with Ned dead, I have to continue playing the loving wife.
I arrive at the house, take the set of keys from my bag, use the remote to open the gates.
“We usually have a security guard,” I explain, as we drive up to the house. “But Ned gave him time off while we were away.”
“Is there anyone else here, someone who can be with you?” Officer Garrat says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
I shake my head. “The housekeeper is away visiting her family. But it’s okay, I have friends I can call.” Without warning, I start to sob and quickly push my hand against my mouth to try and stop myself.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Hawthorpe. You’ve had a terrible shock. I can stay with you until your friends arrive, if you like.”
“Thank you, but I think I just need to be with Ned’s things. I still can’t believe…”
She nods, stops the car. I climb out, thanking her, but she follows me into the house. For a moment, we stand alone in the empty hallway.
“If you need anything, think of anything, just call,” she says.
I nod my thanks and she leaves.
Finally, I’m alone.
CHAPTER THREE
Officer Garrat has only been gone a few minutes and I want to shout for her to come back. I wish I’d asked her to check that the house was secure before she left. Alone in this vast place, I feel horribly vulnerable.
Methodically, I walk through the rooms, pulling at the windows, tugging at the kitchen patio door, making sure everything is locked, then return to the kitchen. My phone is on the table. I reach for it, about to call Carolyn, when I remember the instructions and withdraw my hand. I can’t, not yet. Turning my phone so the screen is facing down, I stare vacantly at the wall.
Light moves across the marble counters, marking the passing of time. I sit, numb, until it is dark and my stomach is grumbling with hunger. There’s a little food in the fridge, the “use by” dates still some ways off: a packet of smoked salmon, a box of eggs, a block of butter, and a loaf of bread. I make some toast, take a couple of bites, then put it down, no longer hungry. I can’t relax in this house and there’s a voice in my head telling me to run. But I can’t, I’m stuck here until Ned is buried. Only then will I be free to leave.
Anxiety gnaws away inside me. What if somewhere along the way today, I messed up? Did the police believe everything I told them, did I do everything I was supposed to do?
I close my eyes and run through the second part of the instructions that I memorized.
At 8:20 a.m., leave the house. You’ll find the keys for the door and the side gate on a hook in the hallway. Once outside, turn right and head down to the beach. When you get there, stop people, tell them you’re looking for your husband, describe him—medium height and build, dark hair, wearing knee-length navy shorts and a white polo shirt. Run to the pier and back, then run the other way, toward Sandbanks, before returning to the house. Call the local police station, tell them that you’re staying at a house named Albatross and you’re worried about your husband, who went for a walk early in the morning, leaving his phone on the table, and hasn’t come back. Tell them he’s been under a lot of strain because of an allegation against him. Once you mention his name, they’ll be interested. The chances are they’ll send somebody to you, if they don’t, call back an hour later, say you’re still worried.
At some point the police will ask if you know the passcode for Ned’s phone. Tell them you don’t but that you remember him saying that it was his mother’s birth date, which you don’t know. They’ll search for it themselves and open Ned’s phone to three messages, the first dated Friday, August 16, saying he’s taking a break from social media, the second posted last week, a photo that proves you were both here at the house, the third at 6:05 this morning saying, “I’m sorry, forgive me.” Be worried by the last message, ask the police if they think Ned might have harmed himself. If his body hasn’t already been found, they’ll start a search. They’ll eventually find it at the bottom of a cliff not far from the house, indicating suicide. It will be up to youto play the distraught widow. Do not offer to identify the body but when asked for identifying features, mention the tattoo of an eagle on his lower back and the mole between the big toe and the next on his left foot. It will be awhile before a verdict of suicide is confirmed but once the police are happy to let you go, return to the house in Wentworth. The security guard has left, he received a message from Ned’s phone telling him to take a vacation while you were away, until further notice. If the police ask if there are any other staff, mention that the housekeeper is away on vacation. Take time to absorb the events of today and prepare to undertake the next set of instructions.
I think about the photo of me in my red bikini, the one on Ned’s Instagram account. Lukas must have taken it the day we went for lunch. He had been planning this for that long. Was it because he had met me that day that I was treated better than Ned, that I wasn’t killed? Or was it because he needed me to be able to cover all his tracks?
