She waited a minute, then walked back out into the road. Back towards Tiff’s house. She would have this out with her. There was no way she could ignore it.
As Louisa got within striking distance of Tiff’s, she heard a car engine roar, and before she could reach the gate, Tiff’s Audi sped out and passed Louisa in a blur of red. She wondered if Tiff had even registered it was her standing there.
27
THE LIE
Louisa took the longer route home to give her more thinking time, passing the Post Office and Co-op local, giving courteous ‘good morning’ greetings to the few villagers she saw, but moving on quickly so she didn’t get caught up in mundane conversation. She took a right at the new children’s play area – one of the many projects Tiff had been involved in fundraising for. It wouldn’t be long until she’d be taking Noah there to play – another stage that she’d assumed was over before he came along. She had to give credit to Tiff though, she really had achieved a lot for the village, and given that Little Penchurch only had a population of about four hundred people, the villagers were keen to improve their local amenities; they were happy to help when Tiff asked them to dig into their pockets and give generously.
Tiff could be very persuasive.
Louisa walked towards her road from the opposite end to which she’d set off. As she pushed Noah up the steep incline, with the tree-lined street looming in front of her, she remembered Emily telling her that was where Oliver had been parked on Friday morning. She slowed down, and then crossed over to the opposite pavement. From that position, Louisa could see the front of her house clearly. This would have been the view Oliver had: far enough up the road to not be immediately noticed, but close enough to see any comings and goings.
Had he been waiting for everyone to leave so that he could visit her alone?
He couldn’t have known that Emily would leave the house with Noah that early in the morning, but perhaps he’d been waiting for her to walk to school.
Louisa realised he’d probably been there all night, watching the house. Watching them.
She shivered.
‘Morning, Louisa,’ a voice came from her left.
‘Oh, hi, Arthur.’ She turned to face her neighbour. ‘Lovely day, for a change.’
‘Not bad, is it?’ He deposited a bag of rubbish and banged the wheelie bin lid closed. ‘How’s the little ’un?’ Arthur hobbled down his garden path towards Louisa and popped his head inside the pram.
‘He’s doing great, thank you. Better now, actually – we’ve had a bit of a rocky start.’
‘Oh, I can still remember our lot. Noisy buggers they were, all of ’em. My poor Pearl, always up at night, had to sleep during the day whenever they did. We have the grandkids every now and then, but to be honest, it doesn’t matter anymore – I don’t sleep anyway.’
‘No? How come?’
‘Bloody back pain. For some reason I find it easier to sit than lie down, so I don’t spend a lot of time in bed. I just stay in my armchair by the window and watch the world go by until the sun’s up and I can get moving.’
Louisa looked to Arthur’s window, then back at the street again. ‘So, you see all the comings and goings then?’
‘Yep, your local neighbourhood watch, me.’ He smiled.
‘Any cars parked along here lately that you don’t recognise as being from this road?’
‘Just the one. A dark grey Citroën. Noticed it parked by the trees a few nights on the trot. Gone by early morning, mostly. I reported it, like. Police non-emergency number, as you’re meant to do these days, and they took details. I haven’t seen it since Friday, so I assume they’ve had a word.’
‘Yes, probably. Well, keep up the good work, Arthur. Nice to know you’re keeping an eye on our road.’
‘It’s a good little village. People feel safe here. I want it to stay that way.’
So do I, she thought.
Back at home, Louisa bumped Noah’s pram over the threshold and parked him in the hallway. After her eventful few hours, she needed a cuppa. She’d only filled the kettle and flicked the switch before the doorbell rang. Her heart sank. Not that long ago the sound of the bell would have elicited a positive reaction – it meant she had company, an enjoyable interaction with another adult to look forward to. But lately it evoked dread, causing her body to tense in nervous anticipation. Please don’t be Oliver. She noted two figures through the glass: one reached the top of the door. She knew before she opened it who it was.
‘Could we come in, please, Mrs Cullen.’ DS Mack, his head skimming the top of the doorframe, flashed his badge, bent down and entered the hallway.
His colleague, a petite red-haired woman, who simply stated, ‘DI Wade,’ and nothing more, followed behind him.
Louisa guided them into the kitchen and offered them a drink. They declined. This set Louisa on edge. They sat down at the wooden table, the two of them unsmiling, solemn. Louisa’s pulse galloped.
‘Mrs Cullen, you said, when we first spoke with you, that you knew Oliver but not his wife. Is that correct?’ DS Mack got straight to the point.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Louisa replied quickly.
‘Mr Dunmore states that you were in a relationship with him. Although, you didn’t mention that, so I wanted to hear it from you.’
Damn Oliver. She’d guessed it would come out, but she wished now she’d been the one to have told them. She looked from DS Mack to DI Wade and back again; both sets of eyes were squarely on hers.
‘Gosh, that was years ago. I was only seventeen – it was when we were at college,’ she said, keeping her voice light, breezy, like it had been something and nothing.
‘R-i-i-i-ght,’ DS Mack said, lengthening the word as though he’d seen through Louisa’s attempt at being nonchalant. ‘Exeter College, yes?’ He thumbed through the pages of his notebook.
‘Yes, I went there straight from Coombeshead Comprehensive. I was doing my A levels – Oliver was in the same Biology class. That’s how we met. But he went on to university and I stayed here, got a job. That was it.’
‘Okay. Well, anyway, we’ve spoken to almost everyone on the invite list now and, surprisingly, no one can remember seeing Melissa at your party. As you know, there is no CCTV footage available and although Oliver’s car was picked up on several cameras on the way to the venue, we’ve been unsuccessful in being able to ascertain if a passenger was in the car with him. His car was not picked up after the party.’
‘He probably went home through the lanes,’ Louisa said absently.
‘Yes, that’s what he said.’ DI Wade’s tone made it sound as though she was bored, or had expected that response and didn’t really believe it.
‘So—’ Louisa leant forward ‘—what you’re thinking then is that you’ve no proof Melissa was even at my party?’
‘Well, it’s very odd that no one remembers seeing her, don’t you think?’
Yes, she did think it odd. Should she tell them there was at least a possibility she’d seen her? She couldn’t be sure enough, though. If she told them and caused the investigation to go in a different direction – the wrong one – she’d feel terrible.
‘Mrs Cullen?’ DS Mack coaxed.
‘Sorry, I was thinking.’ Louisa’s mind was scrambled. She didn’t know what to do for the best. The best for Oliver, the best for Melissa. The best for her.
‘You seem quite anxious.’ DS Mack was staring at Louisa’s mouth. She realised she was chewing on her thumbnail, gnawing at it like it was a raw carrot. She pulled it away from her lips and sat up straighter.
‘I am anxious. I don’t know what to think right now.’
‘About Oliver?’ DI Wade cut in.
Shit. Her behaviour was making them think she didn’t trust Oliver. She was going to land him in it in a minute. She had to pull herself together. Now, would telling these detectives that she might’ve seen Melissa be helpful to Oliver, or would it now look like she was trying to help cover something up? If she’d s
aid immediately that she had a vague memory of seeing her, that would’ve been fine. But now, over a week later and after enough time had passed where she could’ve told them, it would look bad.
‘About it all, really. There were a lot of people there, and a fair few people didn’t know each other. They were busy with their own cliques, I suppose. You don’t notice everyone in a packed room, do you? And you said you’d spoken to almost everyone on the list, not all of them yet. There’s still a possibility one of those could help you. And Tiff could’ve missed people off the list.’
‘Yes, that’s true,’ DS Mack said. ‘But no one else came forward after the appeal. No one who wasn’t on the list.’
‘What about the bar workers? Didn’t any of them remember seeing her?’
‘We’ve interviewed all the staff. And no. Nothing.’
‘DS Mack, are you pinning your hopes on someone from my party being able to remember something significant? Because if that’s all there is to go on, I’m seriously worried for Melissa.’
‘It’s only one of our lines of inquiry, Mrs Cullen, don’t worry.’
‘Louisa. It’s Louisa.’
‘Okay. Look, Louisa.’ DI Wade now sat forward, and offered the first smile since she’d walked through the front door. ‘I know you said you’d consumed a lot of alcohol that evening, but we were really hoping something may have come back to you by now. Out of everyone at the party, you are the only person who knew Oliver. And you remember speaking to him, you told us that, so I find it difficult to believe that you didn’t see Melissa too, at any point.’
‘No. I really don’t remember seeing her. Nothing has come back to me about that night, I’m afraid.’ Louisa purposely made direct eye contact with DI Wade, and didn’t waver. If she was going to tell a lie, she had to make sure she didn’t display any of the ‘tells’.
‘And you have not met her previously?’ DS Mack took over again. It was like a game of ping-pong between the two detectives. Louisa was reminded of the crime shows she’d watched over the years – the good cop, bad cop routine. At the moment, they were both being relatively ‘good cop’, but staring into the eyes of DI Wade gave her the uncomfortable feeling that it would be her who turned ‘bad cop’ if the circumstances called for it.
‘No.’ Louisa tore her eyes from the woman and turned to face him. ‘Oliver left Devon over twenty years ago. My party was the first time I’d set eyes on him since then. I had no clue as to where he’d been, what he’d been doing. He told me at the party that he was newly married, and that was the first time I even knew about Melissa.’
‘But he didn’t introduce you to her?’
Louisa was beginning to feel agitated. She’d gone over this already. Twice. Why was he asking the same things again? It was like he was determined to catch her out.
‘No. It was a brief conversation and then I got up and went to mingle with the other guests.’
‘Weren’t you the slightest bit intrigued? To see the woman who married your childhood sweetheart?’ DI Wade raised her eyebrows.
‘No. Why would I be? I’ve told you, I was seventeen when I was with him, eighteen when he left. It was my fortieth birthday party, so I think it’s fair to say that I’d moved on with my life by that point. I’d forgotten all about him. Trust me, I’m really not bothered about Oliver Dunmore.’ She instantly regretted her words. ‘Bothered’ was exactly how she’d sounded by saying that.
‘Okay, I understand. Only sometimes, those we loved first are those we never quite let go of.’ She stared intently into Louisa’s eyes.
Her blush was impossible to control.
28
THE SECRET
Monday p.m.
‘I have to speak with you, Lou-Lou. It’s urgent.’
Oliver was standing on her doorstep red-faced and panting, his arm on the wall appearing to be the only thing holding him steady.
‘Shit,’ Louisa said.
It was bad news. They’d found Melissa and she was dead. That had to be it; the look on Oliver’s face said it all. The questions she’d had clouding her head about why he’d been spying on their house, what he’d been doing at Tiff’s, left her – sheer panic replacing them. ‘Come in.’ She stepped aside. It’d been her first reaction, despite telling herself she wouldn’t let him in again. If the news was terrible, she couldn’t very well leave him standing on the doorstep. He swept past her but stayed in the hallway, pacing it like a caged wild animal.
‘Oliver, speak to me. What’s happened?’
He pulled his fingers through his thick hair, and then stood with both hands interlocked on his head. Louisa’s pulse banged. She tasted the tension. Her fear.
Blood.
A body on the ground.
Screaming.
Oliver pacing.
Louisa shook her head. That’d been the first time she’d seen Oliver in her visions. He’d been like he was right now, hands on his head, pacing.
She tried to clear her mind – concentrate on the here and now, not on something that may or may not have happened before. She reached for Oliver, putting her hands on his shoulders.
‘Oliver, look at me. Have they found her?’
She wasn’t sure she was ready for the answer.
‘No. Not yet.’
Louisa’s breath escaped in a rush. No news was good news. Or, at least, no news meant that she hadn’t turned up dead at least.
‘So, what then? Why are you so distraught?’
Oliver suddenly grabbed her, holding her tight against his torso. She felt his breath against her hair. The warmth from him radiated across her chest. She should pull away. But it felt comforting. Strangely, it felt right.
‘They think I’m lying. They don’t believe that I took Melissa with me to your party.’ His voice was quiet, muffled in her neck. But she understood his words. Understood what the visit from DS Mack and DI Wade had been for this morning.
‘Have they said this, specifically? Or is it an assumption?’
‘They practically told me, just an hour ago. Said there’s no evidence of Melissa being at Court Farm on that Friday evening. What else can I take from that?’
‘But they haven’t arrested you, so they have nothing to prove that she wasn’t there either. They haven’t caught you out in a lie.’
Oliver let his arms drop from around her and stepped back. ‘That’s because I’m not lying.’ His voice was clipped, his face stern.
‘I wasn’t suggesting you were,’ she said quietly.
‘But we both know we’re capable. Of lying, I mean.’
Louisa’s mouth dried. ‘I don’t know that, actually. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’ She turned away from him and walked to Noah’s pram, still parked in the hallway. His little chest rose and fell with quiet breaths. His eyes were closed; both tiny hands were curled into fists on each side of his head. She smiled. It was heart-warming to see him contented. ‘Come and sit down in the lounge, Oliver. I think it’s time we had this out.’
Louisa sat in the feeding chair, Oliver on the sofa opposite. The atmosphere had shifted in an instant, and now she didn’t want to be next to him. Not too close.
‘I don’t know what you mean about “having this out”.’ Oliver made quote marks with his fingers. ‘I know it was a long time ago, but you don’t forget something like that, Lou.’ His eyes were narrowed in disbelief but she really didn’t remember. How could she convince him of that? She’d have to give the full story – the only one she knew.
‘I … well, I have huge chunks of time, from back when I was at college, that are lost – or full of gaps, anyway.’ Louisa clasped her hands in front of her; her leg bounced.
‘Really? That’s convenient,’ he said, looking away from her.
‘No, Oliver, it’s not convenient. It’s anything but convenient. I’ve spent years of my adult life trying to find the reason why I blocked out some of those memories.’
He huffed. ‘Well, don’t worry – I can certainly help w
ith filling in the bloody gaps.’ He was red in the face again, his eyes wide.
‘Why are you so angry with me? You’ve been harping on about how I should be helping you, like you once helped me, but now you’re acting as though I’ve done something wrong!’
‘You did do something wrong, Lou-Lou. You really don’t remember?’
‘No. Oliver. I really don’t. Tell me. Tell me what it is that I’m supposed to have done.’
He got up from the sofa and knelt in front of her, then he took both of her hands in his. ‘I’m not sure you’re ready to hear this, in that case.’
‘You’re probably right. But I think it’s something I have to hear. Go on.’
‘Ah, my Lou-Lou, we swore to each other we’d keep the secret, no matter what. And I have, for all these years. I even left to make it easier for you. It’s so hard now, to say it out loud,’ Oliver said, squeezing her hands even tighter. Tears shone in his eyes as they looked into hers.
‘Christ, Oliver. Don’t stretch it out, it can’t be that bad.’
‘It is, I’m afraid,’ he whispered.
Louisa’s heart tumbled. ‘For God’s sake, just spit it out.’
Oliver took a deep breath. ‘You killed someone, Lou-Lou.’
29
THE ACCIDENT
Louisa tilted her head back and laughed. That was one way to lessen the impact of what he was really going to tell her.
‘No. Really. I’m not lying.’ Oliver’s expression was set. ‘Do you seriously not remember anything about that night?’ He leant in closer to Louisa’s face, his eyes searching hers.
The Missing Wife Page 13