The Vow - Debbie Howells Page 0,53

off and spend some time alone. Back then, before I knew more, anything, everything was possible.

I stayed on the beach until the grey sea darkened – as the swell picked up, the cold eating into me – before I got up and started to walk back towards my flat. Though I was tired, restlessness filled me. I even considered calling Amy. I’m not sure why, but on impulse, I’d copied her number from Matt’s phone. To hell with maintaining anonymity. But I knew it would have created more problems than it would have solved.

Back home, after a bowl of soup and a couple of glasses of wine, I’d been no less agitated. Switching on my laptop, I’d started going through Matt’s social media profiles, something I hadn’t done since we first met. Having studied the backgrounds of a large number of acrimonious divorce cases, I’d become adept at identifying what people tried to hide.

On Facebook, his profile photo was unchanged, the same shot of him as when we first met. Staring at it, I’d frowned, wondering if I’d missed something and all along, he really had been spinning me a line. For a moment, doubt had crept in. Two weeks before their wedding was short notice to call it off. Maybe it was me he’d been lying to? Maybe he had no intention of cancelling it.

While previously there’d been certainty, increasingly I was becoming paranoid, as I scrolled through his photos, not knowing what to think, questioning everything. They were the same photos I’d seen before – mostly selfies of Matt, a few of him with other people, with one or two messages about their wedding as it hit me how ridiculous this was. If he wasn’t getting married, God only knew why he hadn’t told Amy by now. The whole thing was insane. Suddenly nauseous, I’d hurried to the bathroom just in time before being violently sick.

*

I slept fitfully that night, on alert for a call or message from Matt – or even the police; my emotions like a pendulum, swinging back and forth between hope and fear. Still nauseous the next morning, I skipped breakfast. Under pressure, my imagination was in overdrive. On the way to work, I passed a man the same height as Matt on the other side of the road. His hair a similar colour, he had Matt’s way of walking. Even his coat was familiar. For a moment my heart hammered, until he turned and I saw a profile that was nothing like Matt’s.

Trying to pull myself together, the more I thought about it, the more obvious it was – Amy was key in this. From everything Matt had told me, it was clear her problems had escalated. Maybe even to the point where she’d attacked him.

Chapter Twenty

It hadn’t taken long before the police were back in touch – namely PC Page, who from the start, seemed unnaturally preoccupied with the case. Or maybe she was more conscientious than most of the police I’d dealt with. When she came round to see me, she’d got straight to the point.

‘We’ve spoken to David Avery, Matt’s employer. He’s shared a list of dates when Matt wasn’t at work, which his fiancée seems unaware of, so obviously …’

‘You wondered if they were days he spent with me?’ My voice cool, I appraised the list of dates she passed me, astonished at how each was imprinted on my mind. A lunch that went on forever, a day in Hastings, the first time he came back to my flat – and other times since. After checking my diary, I looked up at her. ‘You’re right.’

‘All of them?’

I checked the list again, then frowned. ‘There’s one date he wasn’t with me. I was in court that day.’ Another memory indelibly etched. It was one of the rare cases I’d lost.

She frowned. ‘You’re sure?’

I nodded. ‘Absolutely. Why?’

She shook her head. ‘A hunch. It seems Matthew Roche has a history of infidelity.’ She paused briefly. ‘Look, there’s no easy way to ask this, so I’ll come right out with it. How sure are you that Matt wasn’t seeing anyone else?’

‘A third woman?’ I was incredulous. It hadn’t crossed my mind. ‘You’re suggesting he might have been cheating on me, too?’

‘Is it so implausible? He’s clearly very skilled at deceiving people – women. The way Ms Reid talks about him, she paints a picture of a couple very much in love, certainly not a man who’s having an affair.’

Suddenly I felt hot. ‘She