Page 91 of Close to You
‘What gave it away?’
I rub my skin once more and look up to see Jane smiling.
‘I thought I’d be able to keep this going for months,’ she says. ‘I was going to see how much I could get away with and slowly drive you mad.’
I look from the Jane to the gun and back again. It’s much closer to her, although I have no idea whether these sorts of weapons need to be primed or loaded. Whether they simply work with a point and a click.
‘What did you want to achieve?’ I ask.
‘What do you think?’
‘Did you want to…killme?’
Her lips are tight but, from nowhere, Jane snorts with derision. ‘Kill you?I don’t think I’d have it in me. I suppose I thought about it some nights – but never seriously. I thought I could mess with you and then watch as you blamed everything on your missing husband. You’ve got to admit, it’s a good alibi?’
It takes everything I have not to laugh. Itwouldbe a good alibi if it wasn’t for the fact that David is dead. I knew that. Iknowthat, even though I had a momentary wobble.
Jane thought she could mess with my mind by making me believe David was back – but that’s only because she doesn’t know the truth.
I killed him.
Her plan would have been perfect if David really had disappeared.
She’s so assured that I know I have to ask the question to which I don’t particularly want the answer. The question to which I probably alreadyknowthe answer.
‘Why?’ I say.
It’s Jane’s turn to look away. She glances upwards towards Norah’s room and then focuses back on me. ‘All I want is the truth,’ she says. ‘I think you owe me that.’
Forty-Six
THE WHY
Two years, two months ago
‘I’d kill for you,’ David says. ‘Do you know that?’
It’s a strange, mixed-up, almost clichéd thing to say. It’s supposed to convey a degree of romanticism, as if anyone would want that. But who would? It’s an incomprehensibly manic idea to love a person so much that killing someone else is somehow acceptable.
‘Why would you say that?’ I ask.
‘Because it’s true.’
For perhaps the first time in our relationship, I genuinely believe him. The doorbell sounds three times in rapid succession and I jump to my feet, spurred on by the urgency.
‘Don’t go,’ David says.
He trails me all the way to the door and, when I open it, Ben is standing there.
‘How’s it going, Morgs?’ he asks.
‘It’s been worse.’
He glances past me towards David and then pushes the door wider. ‘Shall we go?’
I take a breath and then step outside, where the rain continues to lash: ‘Yes.’
I quick-step across the pavement to his car and clamber into the passenger side, before clipping my seat belt into place. Ben slides into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. I slouch slightly, watching David in the doorway of my flat as we pull away. He stands unmovingly, leaning with one hand above his head, resting on the frame. It’s only a few seconds until we are around the corner and out of sight.
