Reluctantly he climbed back into the taxi, waiting nevertheless until she’d reached the front door and given him a wave before instructing the driver to drive on. She’d said she’d obviously have to take few days off. He’d said he would see her at the station soon. He hadn’t dared say more. He’d seen a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, though. She’d clearly expected him to.
He was walking through his own front door, tugging off his coat and wondering what inedible cuisine his housemate, who fancied himself as a chef, was cooking, when he felt something inside one of the pockets clunk against the hall wall.
Shit! Kim’s phone. He groaned as he pulled it out. He’d forgotten to give it back. ‘Damn.’ He sighed wearily. He was knackered, but he could hardly leave her without her phone. Pulling his coat back on, he about-faced, checking his other pocket for his car keys as he headed back out.
A short while later, he was standing on the doorstep of the house the taxi had dropped Kim off at, wondering if he was going slightly mad.
‘And you don’t know her surname?’ The guy who’d answered the door squinted at him, puzzled.
‘No,’ Josh confessed, confused. ‘I don’t really know her that well. We shared a taxi home.’ Thinking the whole story would sound too complicated, he gave him a shortened version. ‘I was positive it dropped her off here.’
‘Sorry, mate.’ The guy shrugged apologetically. ‘No one here by that name. I’ve never heard of her. We haven’t long moved in, though. You could try the neighbouring houses.’
Josh did as he suggested, his confusion growing as they didn’t yield anyone by the name of Kim either, which meant he was either mistaken – the houses did all look pretty similar and he hadn’t noted the number – or he really was going mad. Or else she was lying. But why would she do that?
Ten
Cassandra
Cassie was rushing downstairs, pushing an earring into her ear lobe, when Adam came through the front door. He’d been working from home lately. Keeping an eye on her, Cassie suspected, though he denied that. He’d been called out unexpectedly to look at snagging problems on a new-build site, and then had to call into his office for various bits of paperwork. Cassie still couldn’t bear to be alone for too long in the house – its walls were steeped in memories of Josh – but she wished Adam would realise it was safe to leave her for short periods, that she wasn’t going to cocoon herself under her duvet and sink into depression, as she had in the weeks after Josh had gone. Or worse.
He arched an eyebrow and looked her over as she passed him in the hall. Approvingly, Cassie hoped, now she’d finally put some make-up on and made herself presentable. ‘Are we supposed to be doing something this evening?’ he asked her as she flew onwards to the kitchen.
‘No,’ Cassie called back. ‘I have something on.’
‘Oh, right.’ Adam sounded perplexed, unsurprisingly. She’d had no interest in going out since the funeral, other than for basic food shopping.
Glancing around the kitchen, she knitted her brow as she checked in all the usual places: the hooks on the utility room door, the work surfaces, the fruit bowl on the kitchen island. Giving up, she headed back to the hall, plucked her bag from where she’d hung it on the stair rail and rummaged in it. ‘Haven’t seen my car keys, have you?’ she asked, feeling not quite the woman-in-control she was trying to be.
Adam stepped back and picked them up from the hall table, where they’d been sitting obviously behind him. ‘Care to share?’ He smiled, handing them to her.
Cassie rolled her eyes in despair at herself. ‘I had a call from the local newspaper,’ she explained, passing him her bag to hold and grabbing her jacket from the peg. ‘They need someone to cover a story,’ she went on, slipping her arms into it. ‘They have an interview scheduled with a woman who lost her son to suicide.’ She spilled it out quickly but didn’t miss Adam flinching as she spoke. ‘The reporter who organised it is off sick, apparently, so as it’s in my area, they offered it to me.’
Pausing, she glanced at him, guessing his first reaction would be to feel as if someone had punched him, as she had when she’d heard what the interview was