Page 33 of Perfect Wives
‘I was at the Magnolia Primary School PTA quiz,’ I reply, almost tripping over the words in my hurry to get them out. ‘Georgie, Beth and I were running the event. All three of us were together the entire evening from six thirty until around eleven. The quiz ended around nine, but we stayed to clear up.’ The words feel wooden – too practised – but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
‘And you, Mr Carter?’ Sató asks, looking at Marc.
‘Alistair and I got back to the close around nine thirty,’ Marc continues. ‘We had babysitters to sort out. The local teens do it. We used Florence from next door – number eleven. We didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Believe me, anything happens in Magnolia Close and we notice. We’re a close-knit community.’
‘So I understand,’ Sató replies with a meaning to her comment that makes me nervous. She believes someone close to Jonny killed him.
She scans her notes before looking back at me. ‘That’s Georgie and Nate Bell from number six, and Beth and Alistair Smith from number three?’
We both nod.
Sató makes another note, and we sit in silence. I swallow, my mouth dry. I remember the tea I made myself at breakfast, sitting cold and untouched on the kitchen counter. When was the last time I drank anything? I want to get a glass of water, but I force myself to stay sitting.
‘Thank you for confirming that for us,’ she says, and I think they’re going to leave, but then the other detective, DC McLachlan, leans forward. Eager and ready. And I have to bite back another scream and the need to escape.
‘Mrs Carter?—’
‘Call me Tasha,’ I say, the words automatic. I always thought I’d grow into being called Mrs Carter, but, at forty-two, I’m still waiting.
McLachlan nods. ‘Tasha, one of your neighbours mentioned that you had an issue with Mr Wilson.’ Her tone is casual like she’s making conversation.
I’m back underground – buried in the earth. Can’t breathe. I lick my lips and make a show of rolling my eyes, adding an amused smile, a head shake that says it was nothing. ‘Really? Who told you that?’
No reply.
Marc breaks the silence. ‘We had a small disagreement with Jonny in the summer,’ he explains, like Jonny didn’t ruin our lives.
I think of Georgie’s comment last night. Now Jonny is dead, we can reapply for planning permission. I wait for the relief, but all I feel is the weight of my burdens. Georgie and Beth both hated Jonny too, but I had the most to gain from his death. And considering this is DS Sató’s second visit in less than twenty-four hours, I think she knows it too.
‘I guess someone could’ve meant that,’ Marc continues.
‘I’ve been told Mr Wilson blocked planning permission for an extension for your elderly parents, and that you were very upset about it,’ McLachlan says.
There’s a ringing in my ears. A deafening clang. I scoop Lanie into my lap and let Marc explain the plans for the extension and my parents and the care they need from me, still making it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. I fight back the lump stuck in my throat and watch Sató’s pen move across the page of her notebook before looking back at me.
‘You’re very close to Beth Smith and Georgie Bell. Is that right?’ Sató asks, taking control of the questions once more.
I nod. ‘We have children the same age.’ I lick my lips again. God, I’m so thirsty. ‘Is this going to be much longer? It’s just that my parents are expecting me.’
‘I’m sorry to be holding you up,’ Sató replies. ‘We’re almost done.’ Sató looks to McLachlan, and something silent passes between them.
The younger detective sits forward again, hands clasped in front of her. Lanie babbles, reaching a hand out, making McLachlan smile. ‘In homes like this, we’d expect to see doorbell cameras or CCTV. But I haven’t noticed any in Magnolia Close.’
‘It’s against the bylaws,’ Marc replies. ‘Because the houses all face each other, a doorbell camera would capture everyone’s comings and goings. It was considered an invasion of privacy. With the gates, it never felt like we needed to worry about extra security. We’re a community. We take in each other’s deliveries and look out for each other.’
Sató nods before closing her notebook, and finally the two detectives stand. It’s an effort not to sag with relief.
‘Thank you for your time this morning,’ Sató says. ‘I’ll be back if I have any further questions, but if you remember anything unusual about Tuesday evening, or anything pertinent to the investigation, here’s my card.’
She steps forward and I stand, shifting Lanie onto my hip and taking the card with my spare hand before showing the detectives out, Marc following behind. I close the door, and we wait in silence until they are down the path and on the pavement. Out of earshot.
I try to get a hold of myself, like scooping up the grains of rice from a bag that’s spilled, but I can’t remember what I needed to do today.
Prescriptions and plumbers and…
In my arms, Lanie tugs at my hair, trying to suck the ends. I look up to find Marc is still standing in the hall. I don’t knowwhat to say, but Marc does. He steps forward, slipping his hand into mine.
‘I’m sorry, Tesoro,’ he says. ‘I shouldn’t have gotten mad last night.’
