Page 65 of The Dead Ex
‘Will you be there too?’ Scarlet took her hand again.
‘This is Robert’s thing, dear. Buthe’ll look after you.’
‘I’d rather take pictures on my own.’
‘But you’ll need to learn first. Trust me, Robert’s a good teacher. Now how about an early night? You’ve had quite a day. And you can listen to your mum’s story again.’
‘Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Scarlet. Scarlet lived in a pretty house far away from her mum. But her mum still loved her very much.’
Scarletclosed her eyes. And the funny thing was that as soon as she heard Mum’s voice, she didn’t feel scared any more.
She felt strong. Because that’s what she needed to be if she was going to help Mum escape from prison.
I love him and I hate him.
How is that possible?
I want them to find his body.
But I’m terrified too.
Note to self: Vetiver. Can be added to Roman chamomile and clary sage to instil relaxation and calm. Warning: the aroma of vetiver on its own can be very strong. Should be well diluted or blended with other oils.
21
Vicki
I want to sink to the ground with the discarded train tickets around me. Beat it with my fists. Curl up in a ball of shame. Of course, the man with the deep voice isn’t David, any more than the woman in the police station had been Tanya. I’m going mad. How could my ex-husband be on the upside of the escalator as I am going down? Yet coincidences happen. Just not to me. At least, nottoday.
The worst of it is that it means David is still missing. So where the hell is he? And why is it that everyone I’ve ever cared for eventually leaves me?
The other passengers are no longer staring. That crazy woman who was calling out a man’s name? They’ve already forgotten her. They’ve moved on to the next nutter in escalator land.
But I can’t. I need to know what has happened to theman I once trusted. So it’s back to Plan A.
I take the Tube to the station nearest to Kingston. Tanya knows something. I’m sure of it.
My old road – which still has a public phone box on the corner – screams nouveau riche. It’s not the kind of house I would have gone for, but David had persuaded me, andI’d wanted to keep him happy. It was too modern for me. Executive style. Diamond-paned windowswhich would have been all right if it wasn’t for the brown window sills the planners had insisted on. Triple garage. Wide driveway. The neighbours have a 4x4. Tanya has a little yellow Audi convertible.
I used to have an open-top too. David and I made love in it once in the early days. I’d never done that before. It made me feel naughty, but in a good way. No one would believe it now to lookat me. I’m not even allowed to drive.
Twice I walk past the house. Three times. Partly through nerves and partly because I’m testing myself. Am I going to have a seizure? The last thing I want is to knock on the door and then collapse in a heap of rolling eyes and stiff limbs.
On the fourth circuit I tell myself I am looking suspicious. This is a small cul-de-sac. There are only eight houses:all the same on the surface. Only different if you look very carefully. A bit like those magazine puzzles where there are two pictures side by side and you have to circle the bits where there are three windows instead of four.
I take a deep breath and walk up the drive. ‘Our’ front door has one of those twirly black iron boot scrapers in an open porch. It’s shiny clean. My successor doesn’t strikeme as the walking type. There’s also a notice informing cold callers that they will be reported. My old brass lion knocker has gone. Instead, there’s a bell which makes a tuneful sound when I press it.
Was that her choice or David’s? What kind of womanismy replacement? I hadn’t had many dealings with her apart from the odd conversation or dinner. In fact, it was only after everything had fallenapart that I’d pummelled David mercilessly for details. When precisely did the affair start? The date. The time. Where? Our house? Or the apartment in London? What was she like in bed?
In return, he’d fed me a million different soap-opera lines that answered none of these questions. I’d changed. He was scared of the person I’d become thanks to the seizures. (How convenient.) It wasn’t my fault,it was his. (So trite!) He was sorry but he’d fallen in love with someone else. (As though it was out of his control!) It happens. And so on.
If you love someone, you stay with them through thick and thin. He just wanted an excuse to run away with his new younger model. Well, actions have consequences. And this is one of them.
No one is answering, so I go round the back. It’s a beautiful day– really warm for April. The first thing I see is the fish pond. On the patio is a pair of smart green-striped canopy swing chairs and a rectangular wooden table with a candle in the middle. An outside heater. Sliding glass doors leading into the conservatory. The doors are ajar.
There’s a sunbed inside! Tanya is lying on it.
Dammit. I’m going to sneeze. She opens her eyes. ‘What the fuck …’
