Page 42 of The Dead Ex
Looking back, I wonder how on earth I got into this mess. My only excuse is that I was bruised. Vulnerable. Then I met David, who made me feel special.
If only I’d known then what I do now.
13
Vicki
1 March 2018
I wait for the police to call me, but the phone stays silent. So I cancel my appointment with Lily Macdonald. Perhaps they’ve forgotten about me. Perhaps they’re building a case. But I’m still uneasy. Eventually, my uncertainty triumphs and I ring them.
‘There’s something you should know,’ I say.
They ask me to come down to the police station. When I get there, Vine buzzesme through. It’s more modern than the ones I’ve been used to. Streamlined desks. Big-paned windows. Comfortable chairs.
‘Just been done up,’ says the detective, as if reading my expression.
I suddenly have a flashback of handcuffs on my wrists. Do they know about that? If not, it can only be a matter of time.
There is no one with Vine, but I suspect that at least one person – if not two – islistening in.
‘So, you said you had something to tell us.’
I twist my hands under the desk, wondering if I am doing the right thing now I am here.
‘The thing is,’ I say, ‘that my husband … I mean ex-husband … has done this before.’
He’s waiting. Silence is an effective weapon. I’ve beentaught well. I also know that the right words are crucial when it comes to defence.
‘He used to go walkaboutwhen we were married,’ I say.
The right eyebrow rises. There’s a strand of silver in it. David – who was always looking in the mirror – had a fear of going grey prematurely. He’d spend ages combing his dark hair, examining it for any trace or (almost worse in his eyes) a bald patch. ‘What exactly do you mean by that?’
‘My ex would disappear, sometimes for days on end. Then he’d claim he’d toldme where he was going. But he hadn’t.’
‘I see.’
It’s obvious he doesn’t believe me. I lean forward in my desperation. ‘It began soon after we were married. He didn’t come home one night. I thought he’d had an accident and even phoned the police. Why don’t you check? It must be on your files somewhere.’
‘Can you remember the exact date?’
I know when Mum died. Patrick’s date is engraved in myheart. So too is the evening I met David. But I can’t be certain of this one. ‘Only the year and the month.’
He makes a half smile, as though humouring me. ‘So where was he?’
‘On a business trip to Hong Kong, he said.’
‘And you’re sure he didn’t tell you? Or is it possible you’ve forgotten?’
‘It was before I got …’ I start to say.
He nods. I’m glad. I try to say the E word as little as possible.
‘How often did this happen?’
‘Several times. At the end, I’m not sure if it was work or …’ I swallow hard ‘… or pleasure.’
I spit the last bit out with bitterness. He doesn’t miss it.
