myself to calm down, trying to concentrate on the dogs and their antics. They were so funny together. Albert had definitely been subdued since Danny had vanished, and to see him so happy, so carefree, even for a short while, suddenly lifted my spirits a little, a hint of a smile even playing on my lips as the dogs cavorted and yelped.
‘So, Gemma, what’s going on?’
It was Tai, already sitting on one of the high chrome stools that surrounded the marble-topped kitchen island. She was wearing a denim mini-dress, perfectly shaped, toned legs neatly crossed at the ankles.
‘We’re worried. What horrible thing is going on?’
‘Yes, sit down, Gemma. You look pale. Here, coffee. And I’ve got cake too, if you want it. A Victoria sponge.’
Clare pushed a steaming mug of coffee across the smooth marble towards me, then added hastily: ‘I didn’t make it. The cake I mean. My cleaner, Eleanor, dropped it off last night. She does that. Makes a big batch every now and again and then gives them all away. It’s delicious, actually.’
She pushed a blonde curl back off her forehead and grinned. I smiled back.
‘I’m OK. But thanks. And as for the horrible thing that’s going on, well …’
I took a deep breath. Should I be doing this, when I hadn’t even told my parents or Danny’s mother that he was missing? I was still putting off doing that, hoping against hope that any minute I’d hear his key in the door, but now … suddenly this seemed very real.
‘My husband is missing,’ I said quietly.
I didn’t go into too many details, didn’t mention any of the weird stuff I’d discovered since Danny had disappeared; amidst horrified gasps, my two new friends staring at me wide-eyed, I simply told them that when I came back from my press trip on Friday evening my husband had vanished, and that the police were investigating. They bombarded me with questions, of course, and I answered as best I could. No, he wasn’t depressed or in any sort of trouble as far as I knew. No, I had no idea where he might have gone, and no, he’d never gone missing before. No, he didn’t take any clothes or his passport. He was just gone, and I was playing a waiting game.
‘God, Gemma, this is just awful. I’m so sorry. I was only reading an article the other day about how someone’s reported missing in the UK every ninety seconds or something, it’s crazy. Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but we’re here for you, OK? If you need anything, anything at all …’
Tai reached across and squeezed my arm, and Clare nodded fiercely.
‘Absolutely. Call us any time, day or night. What an awful thing to happen. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel, if it was Alex.’
I left soon afterwards, feeling a little less alone, a little less numb. Their kindness had brought tears to my eyes, and the hugs they’d given me as we’d said goodbye had been warm and genuine.
But back home, as the police officers arrived to start searching the house, I was still reeling from the bombshells of the previous day, shaky from another night of little sleep. It was all becoming too much, too impossible. Danny pretending to go to work. No money taken out of his bank account for weeks. Danny appearing on a dating app. And two murders. Two dead men. Two victims who looked so similar to my husband, and who had been using the same app before they died. I could no longer think in any sort of logical way, couldn’t even begin to process it all. What did it mean? Where was Danny? Was he dead now, too? Why had he lied to me about so many things? Was he sleeping around, seeing other women, or was his appearance on the dating site just a stupid, juvenile joke by one of his friends? But why? What would be the point? I just couldn’t work it out … and then there was this latest thing, the thing they’d told me earlier, when they’d arrived to start trawling through my cupboards. What had it been again, exactly? That my closest neighbours, both of them, when questioned, had said they thought I’d moved in here alone? That they’d never seen or heard anything of Danny, of a husband, living here? I’d tried to recall the few interactions I’d had with our new neighbours, remembering brief ‘good mornings’,