The Breakdown - B A Paris

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think there’s someone in the house,’ I whisper shakily.

      ‘What?’ His voice is sharp with worry. ‘Where are you?’

      ‘In the bathroom. I’ve locked the door.’

      ‘Good. Stay there. I’ll phone the police.’

      ‘Wait!’ I find myself hesitating. ‘I’m not sure. I mean, what if there’s no one there? I only heard something twice.’

      ‘What did you hear? Someone breaking in, voices?’

      ‘No, nothing like that… a crack and then some sort of creaking noise.’

      ‘Look, stay where you are. I’ll be with you in two minutes.’

      ‘All right,’ I say, ‘but hurry!’

      Feeling less anxious now that Matthew is coming, I sit down on the edge of the bath. The feel of it against my bare skin reminds me that I’m still naked, so I drag my dressing gown from the back of the door and shrug it on. I can’t help wondering if I should have let Matthew phone the police after all. If there is someone in the house, he could be in danger when he arrives.

      My mobile rings. ‘I’m here,’ Matthew says. ‘You OK?’

      ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

      ‘I’ve parked in the road,’ he goes on. ‘I’m going to take a look around.’

      ‘Be careful,’ I say. ‘Stay on the phone.’

      ‘All right.’

      I listen nervously as I hear his footsteps crunch on the gravel and then round the side of the house.

      ‘Can you see anything?’ I ask.

      ‘Everything seems fine. I’ll just check the garden.’ A minute or so passes. ‘All good, I’m coming in.’

      ‘Be careful!’ I warn again, before the signal goes.

      ‘Don’t worry, I grabbed a spade from the shed.’

      The call cuts off and from the bathroom, I hear him checking out the rooms downstairs. When I hear him on the stairs, I start unlocking the door.

      ‘Let me check the bedrooms first!’ he calls. It isn’t long before he’s back. ‘You can come out now.’

      I open the door and when I see him standing there with the spade in his hand, I feel suddenly foolish.

      ‘Sorry,’ I say awkwardly. ‘I really did think someone was there.’

      He puts the spade down and wraps his arms around me. ‘Hey, better to be safe than sorry.’

      ‘I don’t suppose you want to make me one of your gin and tonics, do you? I could do with a stiff drink. I’ll just throw some clothes on.’

      ‘It’ll be waiting for you in the garden,’ he promises, taking his arms from around me and heading for the stairs.

      I pull on jeans and a T-shirt and follow him down. He’s standing in the kitchen slicing some limes.

      ‘That was quick,’ he says. But I’m too busy staring at the window.

      ‘Did you open the window?’ I ask.

      ‘What?’ He turns to look. ‘No, it was like that when I came in.’

      ‘But I shut it,’ I say, frowning. ‘Before I went up for my bath I shut all the windows.’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Yes.’ I search my memory. I can remember closing the windows in the sitting room and the one in the study but I can’t remember closing this one. ‘At least, I thought I had.’

      ‘Maybe you didn’t close it properly and it came open,’ he says. ‘Maybe that was the noise you heard.’

      ‘You’re probably right,’ I say, relieved. ‘Come on, let’s have that drink.’

      *

      Later, after dinner, we carry the rest of the bottle of wine through to the sitting room to finish in front of a film. It’s hard to find one we haven’t already seen.

      ‘What about Juno?’ he asks as we flick through the list. ‘Do you know what it’s about?’

      ‘A teenager who finds herself pregnant and looks for the perfect couple to adopt her baby. I don’t really think it’s for you.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ He takes the remote from me and puts it to one side. ‘We haven’t talked about having a baby for a while now,’ he says, gathering me in his arms. ‘You do still want to, don’t you?’

      I lay my head on his shoulder, loving how safe he makes me feel. ‘Yes, of course.’

      ‘Then perhaps we should start putting the wheels in motion. It can be quite a long process, apparently.’

      ‘We said when we’d been married a year,’ I say and, despite my joy, I realise that I’m stalling, because how can I think about having a child when, before it’s even a teenager, I could be diagnosed with dementia, like Mum? I know I’m probably worrying about nothing but to ignore the problems I’ve been having with my memory would be stupid.

      ‘It’s lucky it’s our anniversary soon, then,’ he says softly. ‘Why don’t we watch an action film instead?’

      ‘All right. Let’s have a look at what there is.’

      We watch a film until it’s time for the news. As always, Jane’s murder features prominently and I only carry on watching because I’m desperate to know if they’re any nearer to catching her killer. But they’ve made little progress. Then a police officer comes on:

      ‘If you, or anyone you know, were in the vicinity of Blackwater Lane last Friday night, or in the early hours of Saturday morning, and saw Jane Walter’s car, a dark red Renault Clio, parked or otherwise, please call the following number.’

      He seems to be looking directly at me as he speaks, and when he adds that people can call the number anonymously, I realise it’s the answer to my dilemma.

      The news finishes and Matthew, ready for bed, tries to pull me to my feet.

      ‘You go ahead, there’s something I want to watch on another channel,’ I say, reaching for the remote.

      ‘OK,’ he says cheerfully, ‘I’ll see you later.’

      I wait until he’s upstairs, then rewind the news until I find the number and jot it down on a piece of paper. I don’t want the police to be able to trace the call back to me so I’ll have to use a payphone, which means I won’t be able to phone until Monday, when Matthew’s back at work. And once I have, hopefully some of my guilt will disappear.

      The house phone rings while Matthew is in the kitchen, making breakfast to bring back to bed.

      ‘Can you get it?’ I call from the bedroom, shifting further down under the covers. ‘If it’s for me, tell whoever it is that I’ll call them back!’

      A moment later, I hear him asking Andy how he is, so I guess bumping into Hannah has prompted his call. Remembering how I had suddenly run off to meet Rachel, I can’t help feeling a little guilty.

      ‘Let me guess – Andy wants you to play tennis this morning,’ I say when Matthew comes back upstairs.

      ‘No, he wanted to know what time we’re expecting them.’ He looks quizzically at me. ‘I didn’t realise you’d invited them today.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Just that you didn’t mention it was today they were coming for a barbecue.’

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