Page 22 of The Vow
‘That’s right.’ He stared as I started eating. ‘In the circumstances, Jess, I’d suggest it’s only reasonable you do the same.’
He had to be joking. But when I glanced at him, his face was deadly serious. ‘You are kidding.’ Putting down my fork, I glared at him. ‘I can tell you right now, that for the rest of my life, I will never eat anything that’s suffered in order to be shrink-wrapped in plastic before being served up to the ignorant masses.’
‘Jess, don’t you dare speak like that.’ I rarely saw her angry, but pinpoints of red appeared in my mother’s cheeks. ‘Matt isn’t ignorant. He’s no different to anyone else we know who eats meat.’
‘I think you’ll find he is.’ Shaking my head, I knew she was wrong. Matt was trying to control, manipulate, both of us – not because he cared about what we ate. That she couldn’t see it made it even more wrong. Getting up, I picked up my plate, sweeping the leftovers into the recycling, before storming out. On the way, catching Matt’s eye, I saw rage flicker.
It was his first attempt to impose his will on me, the first wedge he tried to drive between me and my mother. The next morning, I waited for some kind of fallout. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken to anyone in that way. But it wasn’t just Matt’s attitude that had riled me. It was the change of my mother’s heart he’d forced. No matter what her reasons were, I felt betrayed.
The next day, Matt wouldn’t look at me. When I spoke, he blanked me. Shocked, I started to wonder if I’d gone too far. A couple of days later, and you’d have thought I was his best friend. I watched him do the same with my mother, treating her with contempt, punishing her with his silence for something she allegedly hadn’t done, then after a day or so, buying her a lavish bouquet of flowers, apologising exaggeratedly. It hadn’t been a good day. He was under so much pressure at work. He promised he’d never do it again.
It was a pattern that recurred, so that you couldn’t tell what was coming. Calm Matt or raging Matt, or almost jovial Matt the best friend. It was impossible to predict, while over time, it took less and less to trigger moods that grew progressively extreme, until in the end, we were walking on eggshells.
I learned about change. When it’s gradual, you don’t notice it. Not at first, as it gently twists invisibly, pulling you in. It was only when I came back from uni that first Christmas, Matt’s behaviour shocked me, more so because my mother seemed blind to it. His criticism and expectations of her; the blow upsand rows over nothing of any significance that left her tiptoeing around him, terrified of upsetting him, of the unleashed anger that would follow. The fabricated accusations he would hurl at her, her protestations that went unacknowledged. Ludicrously emphatic apologies that reeked of insincerity. While I wasn’t there, the spiral had tightened.
I could forgive her the first few times. Understand when she made allowances – told herself it was a one-off, an aberration; an overreaction after a tough day at work; that it was all her fault: she pushed him too far and it was her who should apologise, not him. It would pass. Tomorrow was a new day. How deluded she was. Oh, the lies we tell ourselves.
Then the day came when she seemed to retreat inside herself, bled dry. Matt’s cruel words; narcissism, opportunism, self-interestedness, control, all of them steel grey shades that had merged into the bewildering blackness I saw reflected in her eyes. But even then, she kept repeating habitual, fatuous excuses. He can’t help it. He doesn’t mean it. He loves me. I know he does. The world has been cruel to him, too.
Feeding on her soul, each time diminishing her, it always passed. And for a fleeting moment, even though she was empty inside, the rain would always clear and the sun would come out. A sun that was progressively weakening, but still bright enough to remind her how good they were together, how much she needed him; an illusion briefly painted that couldn’t last.
Her conviction that he loved her never faltered. Love takes many guises, after all, and her belief never wavered. There was always the hope that maybe one day, things would change. It was enough to keep her holding on, to this cruellest, most desperate love that illuminated her darkness, out of fear of losing him, of once again, being alone.
The paradox of what it means to love.
Amy
Chapter Twelve
Even after what Cath said, I can’t yet bring myself to pack Matt’s clothes away. Having been through his pockets several times, as well as the drawer where we leave old letters and bills, I’ve searched every corner of the house. The police have been here and searched too, but even so, we’re still missing something.
The more time passes, the more I think about Jess’s comment, about the way Matt concealed his past. I’d always told myself that at our age, it could take years to share our life stories, but I can’t deny that there’s too much about his past I don’t know. If only there was someone I could ask. A tap on the window at the side of the kitchen startles me. Looking up, I see Lara’s face. Waving, she carries on round the back of the house and comes in through the sliding doors.
‘Hey.’ She looks anxious. Her cheek is cold as it brushes against mine. ‘Any news?’
I shake my head. ‘Nothing. There’s still no sign of him.’
‘The police have been in touch. They asked if I thought he’d taken off.’ Lara’s clear blue eyes hold mine. ‘But you know I don’t believe that. I know Matt well enough to know that ifhe hadn’t wanted to marry you, he would have been straight with you.’
‘Thank you.’ I keep my voice level. ‘It helps to know you think that, if only because it’s what I believed. I told the police exactly the same.’
Her hand is cool as it touches my arm, her eyes full of concern. ‘I’ve racked my brains, Amy. I can’t think of a single reason why he’d deliberately do this to you. You have to hang in there. Life can be surprising and we still don’t know what’s happened to him.’ Then it’s as if she reads my mind as she adds, ‘Someone, somewhere, must know something. People can’t just disappear, not in this day and age. Don’t you think someone must be hiding something?’
But like Cath, Lara doesn’t know everything. ‘It’s got more complicated since I last spoke to you.’ Pulling out one of the kitchen chairs, I sit down, and Lara does the same, putting her car keys on the table. ‘After he went missing, another woman reported her partner missing. Another man called Matt. Their descriptions are the same.’
A look of shock crosses her face. ‘A coincidence, surely? It isn’t an unusual name.’
But I’m already shaking my head. ‘It’s definitely him. She knew where he worked. She knew about me, too. The police have photos and CCTV footage. For ages, I tried to tell myself it was a mistake.’ I gaze blankly at her. ‘It was easier than believing the truth, which is that he’s a lying bastard. I still don’t understand how he could do this to me.’
Her eyes widen in alarm. ‘Have you seen the photos?’
I shake my head. ‘The police won’t give me any details about her – data protection, or something. But she told the police he was planning to leave me for her. It explains why he took out the wedding insurance, doesn’t it? And why he didn’t tell me?’
‘I don’t believe it.’ Lara looks shocked.
‘I didn’t, either. But I have to. And I don’t know where that leaves me. I’m hurt. Angry that he’s betrayed me. I can’t tell if this woman’s lied about him planning to leave me. Would he really have left it so close to the wedding to tell me? And no-one knows where he is or if something’s happened to him.’ With so many loose ends, so many lies, my reference points have gone.
‘I know Matt had a bit of a past, but since he met you, I thought he’d turned a page. He really seemed determined to make it work with you.’
