Page 19 of Famous Last Words

‘No,’ Cam says.

‘Hmm.’

‘It was probably just – you know. Having a new baby …’ she prattles. ‘I’ve found it hard. It was maybe for me.’

‘Was it?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe,’ she says again, and Smith gives her a hard stare that lasts a second or two too long. Eventually, she moves on, showing her the next set of apps.

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And his Safari search history:

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Meditation exercises

Krispy Kreme stockists London

Nine month sleep regression?

How to concentrate better

Meditation. Cam stares at that, too. Same way she stared atanxiety. Luke is not a meditator. Not in any way, has zero interest in it. In fact, likes his busy mind, the way it flits from this to that.

‘All pretty benign,’ Cam says lightly. ‘Meditation to concentrate better, probably.’

‘Right.’

One final app. Rightmove. One saved search: Grove Avenue, Lewisham. Photographs of a house for sale.

‘Ring any bells?’ Smith says, and Cam stands at a crossroads once more. At the fork in the road. Here it is: the opportunity. The truth is, Cam doesn’t recognize that property, has no idea why Luke has saved it, and on that app.

But she doesn’t want the police to go there, to check it out.What if … what if he’s hiding something there? What if it’s significant, somehow, in ways she doesn’t yet know? What if this location is just for her?

Cam stares at the decision, but the truth is that there isn’t one, not for her. She is his wife. And, here and now, she tumbles across an invisible line, drawn somewhere between her and Smith, made of loyalty and love for her husband.

‘It’s a house we thought about buying, but decided not to.’

On the other side of the line, everything feels different.

‘Right, OK,’ Smith says quickly, and Cam thinks the second she has a moment, she will go to Grove Avenue herself, and find the house. Alone.

‘I wanted to ask you,’ Smith says. ‘Do you know when your husband last ate and drank?’

‘What? Why?’ Cam says, still thinking about his Google searches, that house.

‘It’s just for – so we know a bit more about his physical state,’ she explains. ‘And any medical conditions?’

‘No. None. Coffee, this morning, I think.’

‘Right,’ Smith says. ‘I heard you say – it’s … he likes it, right – he likes coffee?’ She looks at Cam, and her tone softens slightly, like butter just beginning to melt around the edges, though Cam is certain it is put on.

‘Right.’

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