because I was busy and because I’m a shit husband. I wasn’t going to kill myself; I haven’t got the guts. I’m supposed to be on tablets for diabetes and I forget to take them.’
She felt her face begin to burn. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re forgiven. I should have opened the door, but too much alcohol on an empty stomach and feeling sorry for myself. Well, you know how it is. Anyway, what was so important you needed to speak to me about?’
‘It doesn’t matter, it can wait until tomorrow.’
‘I’m—’ He pointed to the stairs. ‘Toilet, be back in a min.’
He pushed himself up and stumbled out into the hallway. She heard his heavy footsteps and began picking up discarded tablets. She looked at them and saw ‘paracetamol’ stamped on each one. Blimey, he’d tried to make light of it. Who was she to embarrass him further? She put them in the bin and dragged the bag out. Knotting it, she carried it outside to the wheelie bin and dropped it inside. Then she went back in and began to tidy around. Washing the mountain of pots and stacking them on the draining board, she realised he hadn’t come back down and a prickle of fear ran down her spine. Ever since her mum had overdosed, she had this fear of people doing the same. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, she listened and heard a loud snore. She looked around; it wouldn’t hurt her to check on him. Make sure he was okay, then she could let herself out.
She ran upstairs, following the snoring to a small bedroom at the bottom of the hall. The door was ajar and Ben lay across the top of the single bed in his shirt and boxers; the duvet was scrunched up on the floor. Picking it up, she threw it over him and left. After locking the front door and pushing the key through the letterbox, she then drove home.
He was right, everything could wait a few more hours. Before she knew it she’d be awake and back in work.
Exhausted, she opened the communal front door and slipped inside. She spun around as a loud crack echoed around the gardens. It sounded like a branch snapping. She couldn’t see anyone it was so dark . Her heart racing, she slammed the front door shut and let herself into her flat, locking the door behind her. If Stan was hanging around she wasn’t letting him in tonight; she was exhausted, even though she knew she was going to have to confront him with a whole host of questions that had been forming inside her mind since she’d spoken to Helen Taylor. Tomorrow she would find him and have the most adult conversation of their lives, but until then she was going to sleep.
Thirty-Two
She arrived at work a little later than the last two days, despite waking up at the same time. She had showered and then read through all the crime scene notes for the O’Briens. As Morgan passed the CID office, Amy shouted: ‘Morgan, the boss wants to see you.’
Stepping inside, she looked towards his office, surprised to see him sitting in there so early; she thought he’d be a hungover mess. ‘Why?’
‘No idea, but he’s in a bad mood and has been stomping around since he got in. What did you do?’
Amy had her chin resting in her hands and a big smile across her face.
‘Nothing much.’
‘Well, if it wasn’t much, you’ll be okay.’
She thought about sneaking back out, but it was too late. He’d already spied her and banged on the glass, beckoning her towards him.
‘Shit.’
‘Good luck; at least he’s eaten most of his sausage and egg muffin. Ten minutes earlier and he’d have eaten you.’
Amy burst out laughing at her own joke, which Morgan didn’t find the least bit funny. She trudged towards the closed door, and he knocked it open as she walked inside.
‘I wouldn’t dare not open a door to you again. These floor-to-ceiling windows are very expensive. My budget can’t afford to replace them.’
He began to close his blinds so the rest of the team, who were all staring and whispering, couldn’t see inside. ‘Now, what was all that about last night?’
He sat down and pointed to the chair. She followed suit, clasping her hands in her lap.
‘I spoke to Olivia Potter’s mum yesterday, and she told me some things about Olivia which kind of threw me. Did Amy tell you?’