following Nunes in a daze, floating somewhere outside of my body, my brain busy, struggling to process all this new information while also trying to manage simple things like getting me to walk straight and not collapse right there on the ground and start screaming.
Sebastian opens the door to his apartment, his gaze hungry and curious as we step inside. I can see he’s dying to know what’s happening and I almost lash out at him as I pass, remembering how he gave Reza a statement and told her he heard arguing in the apartment on Friday night. It’s his fault they’re looking at me as a suspect. He’s responsible for hammering a nail into my coffin.
‘Where’s the phone?’ Nunes asks, when we reach the bedroom.
I walk towards Kate’s Birkin bag lying on the bed, slipping my hand into my pocket. I’ll need to make it look like I’m pulling the phone out of her bag. I keep my back to Nunes and slide my hand inside the bag, turning around and pulling it out, hoping I managed to fake it convincingly.
Nunes takes the phone with a frown and slips it into an evidence bag. ‘And your passport,’ he says.
I take a deep breath, trying to hold myself steady. Handing it over feels like giving an executioner the rope to hang me with. I’ll be stuck here now, at their whim. I think of Marlow and when I’ll see her again. Nunes pries the passport out of my hand.
‘You need to stay here. If you move we need your new address.’
‘You’ve got my passport; it’s not like I can leave the country,’ I tell him.
Nunes nods at that, no smile. Once he leaves I collapse down onto the bed. Shit. Shit. Shit. I bury my head in a pillow and let out the rage that’s been building, stuffing the pillow into my mouth to mute the scream.
‘Are you OK?’
I lift my head to see Sebastian standing in the doorway.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ he asks.
I nod, just to make him leave. Once he’s gone I roll off the bed and crawl towards Kate’s suitcase, which Sebastian must have wheeled into the room earlier. I remember seeing something in there. At the time it didn’t register – not properly. In a fury I toss everything out of the bag, piece by damn piece, until I find her bag of underwear. All those bits of black lace and dental floss thongs. Did she wear them for Rob? Did it turn him on? Probably more than my granny pants.
I yank out the bra I’m looking for. I remember noticing it the other day but not putting the pieces together at the time, but now I look closely I see it’s the exact same one Rob got me for Valentine’s Day from Agent Provocateur. Only this one is red. Nude for his wife, red for his lover. There are even the crotchless knickers to go with it. I bet Kate found a lot more use for them than I ever did.
I rip both apart, shredding the thin lace. If it’s possible I might very well vomit with rage. Staggering to my feet I start to pace. I’m so angry; angry with Kate for her betrayal; angry with Kate for being dead; angry with Kate for not being able to answer any of the questions I have churning around my head. No. I tell myself, as I pace back and forth, hot tears falling down my face, I’m not going to give in to upset and anger. I need to stay focused. The walls are closing in and I need to fight back before it’s too late. There’s no time to dwell on the betrayal.
If Kate brought me here to Lisbon for a reason I need to know why.
It was me who suggested the trip, though, the weekend away – or was it her? No, she was the one who brought it up and I went along with it. Rob didn’t seem too keen now I look back, wondering if it was too soon to leave Marlow, but he couldn’t protest too much or it would have looked suspicious.
I search through my bag for my phone and dial Toby.
‘You knew,’ I say as soon as he answers. ‘You knew about the affair.’
He takes a deep breath in. ‘Yes,’ he answers.
I sink down onto the bed. ‘How long have you known for?’ I ask.