Page 53 of The New Couple in 5B

Anger is a ball in my throat. If there’s anything I can’t stand it’s being told something I know to be true is false. It’s gaslighting and I’ve put up with it all my life. I’m so angry, tears come. Which I hate. I hate it that when I’m at my most mad, I cry instead of rage.

“Abi,” I say, trying to keep my cool, my mutinous voice shaking. “You took the box from me in the hallway upstairs, carried it out to the street, asked the driver to open the trunk, then knocked on the cab to indicate you’d shut the door.”

He is an impeccable man with manicured nails and clear, dark eyes. His black hair is carefully cut and styled. He seems ageless—maybe he’s forty, maybe he’s sixty. His uniform is as pressed and pristine as his calm demeanor.

“Ms. Lowan, I’m so sorry. This is not how I remember it. You were flustered, running late. Perhaps you’re remembering wrong.”

Chad is looking on, brow wrinkling with worry.

“I was not late,” I say sharply. “I was notflustered.”

How often does a woman deal with this kind of shit? Where she’s made to feel off-kilter, unstable, unable to trust her own memories? It’s downright Victorian.

“Ms. Lowan,” says Abi, firmly. “There was no box.”

I point up to the security camera in the far corner of the lobby. “Let’s look at the footage.”

He smiles; it’s not my imagination that it’s just shy of condescending. “There’s no recording, Ms. Lowan. It’s just surveillance for the back office so the doorman can see what’s happening out here if he’s back there.”

I look to that closed door again. I’ve never been in there. It wasn’t part of “the tour.”

“Whereareall the other doormen?”

“Ah,” he says. “You must have noticed that I seem to be here around the clock?”

“Yes, I have,” I say. “Maybe you’re overtired, working too hard, Abi. That’s why you don’t remember how things went earlier.”

Two can play at that game. Abi offers a wan smile that doesn’t reach his eyes; Chad gives me a nudge with his shoulder.

“Not at all, Ms. Lowan. But thank you for your concern,” Abi says smoothly. “It’s true, though, that we are having a bit of a staffing crisis at the moment. It’s difficult to find good doormen being that the job is sodemanding, and might seemthanklessto some. Younger people don’t see service jobs as very rewarding.”

I swallow. Now he’s going to make me feel like an elitist bitch, hassling the doorman, blaming him for my mistake. Nice one.

“But I assure you,” he goes on. “I am quite all right. And Iamsorry for any confusion, Ms. Lowan. Truly. And I’m sure it’s my fault somehow, but I do not remember carrying a box out for you.”

It’s then that I remember Xavier got on the elevator as we were on the way down. I know he saw the box.

“Can you ring Xavier?” I say. “He was there this morning.”

“He’s not in.”

“Will you ring him, please?” I press.

His face a mask of patience, he steps behind the desk, picks up the phone and dials. I can hear a persistent ringing, no answer. He hangs up the phone after the ringing has gone on and on.

We all stand facing each other on the marble floor as rain starts to fall heavily outside. Anger boils in my chest, rises up my throat like acid. I want to scream at him, shake that unflappable demeanor, make him admit what I know to be true.

“Okay, Abi,” says Chad, finally ushering me toward the elevator. “I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this. Rosie’s had a terrible day. She needs some rest.”

Yes, I need somerest. Because I’m having aspell. Get the smelling salts! I’m wild, raging inside, but I know my exterior is calm. We’re so good at that, aren’t we? Hiding the roiling depths of our emotions.

“I know,” says Abi, with compassion in his voice. “The news has already reached the Windermere.”

“What?” I say. “How?”

He blinks. I see a flash of something; then it’s gone. “Miss Dana’s suicide was on the news. It’s a terrible loss, so soon after her father. You both must be reeling.”

That doesn’t seem possible. It’s been just hours, and was it officially declared a suicide? It didn’t seem like the detective was convinced that Dana had ended her life.

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