I walked up and down Ha'penny Lane a dozen times with the handles of my shopping bags digging into my fingers. How could I go back in there? And what did Madame Bowden mean by ‘All will be well’？ Was she calling a doctor or an ambulance? There was no sign of anything on the street. I could just leave, I thought to myself. I could just walk away now and never come back. But what about Henry? I had to get my phone and see if he was okay, and my phone was in the house.
I used my keys and let myself back in. The hallway was brighter now. The flowers in the vase were in full bloom and the broken stairway had been repaired. I left the shopping bags on the floor and forced myself to look over the edge. Shane was gone.
‘I’m afraid your husband was pulled from the river last night.’ A detective was standing in front of me, his small black notebook open, pen poised. ‘His mother had declared him missing over a week ago. Did you have any contact with him during this time, Mrs Winter?’
‘No.’ I was no actress. I was still in a state of complete shock.
‘Am I right in saying that you have been separated for some time?’
I nodded and bit my lips to stop them from trembling.
‘I see.’ He looked past me into the hallway. ‘And can I ask you your whereabouts on the afternoon of Thursday last?’
‘Yes, um, Thursday afternoon is when I do the shopping.’
‘Anyone who may have seen you?’
‘Of course, yes.’ I gave him the names and addresses of every shop I’d gone to that day.
I caught sight of myself in the hall mirror. I’d put thick makeup on my cheek, but I didn’t know how long it would hold.
‘I have to call home, let them know what happened,’ I said and he mercifully closed his notebook.
I shut the door firmly behind him and walked back into the living room to where she was waiting for me. I leaned against the doorframe and looked her squarely in the eye.
‘What did you do?’
‘I didn’t do anything. I simply arranged to have the matter taken care of. And I suggest you take the accusatory tone out of your voice.’
‘We’ve broken the law! I think.’
‘Which law? The one that says you cannot take a violent man’s dead body out of your basement and place it elsewhere? I’ve saved us both a lot of bother. It wouldn’t hurt you to show some gratitude.’
‘Is this what happened to all of your husbands?’ I shouted, no longer sure who or what I was angry at.
‘Emotions are running high,’ Madame Bowden said, slowly getting up from her chair. ‘I will pretend I didn’t hear that.’ With that, she made her way up the stairs and to her bedroom.
I slumped down on the couch. Ever since that day she had taken care of me. She had prepared my meals and encouraged me to eat when I felt I couldn’t. She had reassured me that what happened to Shane was not my fault. It was an accident. Convinced me that telling the police the truth would only raise suspicion and make me a suspect with motive.
‘We were both here,’ she said, patting my hand. ‘We both know what happened. It was an accident.’
‘Yes, an accident,’ I kept repeating after her. ‘We were both there.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
HENRY
I thought I’d never get out of Heathrow. Travellers from every corner of the globe seemed intent on slowing me down, or perhaps I was moving with more purpose than I was accustomed to. Sitting on the tube, I thought about Isabelle and what I would say when I got there. It was like thinking about an old acquaintance, not the woman I had planned on spending the rest of my life with just a few weeks ago. How had that happened? All I knew was I had to end things and I had to do it face to face. Kissing Martha had left me without any doubts. I wrote her a letter explaining everything and left it in an envelope on the doorstep, beside the milk bottles. It was too early to wake her and besides, it was easier to pour my heart out on paper. I couldn’t know what the future held, but I was clear that Isabelle and I were not right for each other. Not now I’d felt the emotion I’d spent my whole life longing for yet was too scared to pursue.
I heard the announcement for Pimlico and rushed up the steps of the station to street level. The streets were quieter now, with rush hour over, and the parks were playing host to parents watching their toddlers test their independence on climbing frames. I was testing something too. Trusting my gut. I arrived at Denbigh Street, where a terraced row of highly ornate houses with balustrades on the first floor and soft yellow London stock brick on the upper two floors. I felt a churning nausea at the pit of my stomach as I rang the doorbell.
A light flicked on and I could hear her footsteps before she opened the door.
‘Henry!’
She pulled me into an embrace and I wasn’t sure what to do. She wouldn’t want to hug me after I’d told her what I came to say.
‘Why didn’t you say you were coming? I invited Cassie and James over for drinks. You don’t mind, do you?’ She was a manicured vision of beauty. Her silky auburn hair tucked expertly into a bun, a cream satin dress falling just so from her athletic frame.
‘Um, I need to speak with you. Alone.’
My expression was unmistakable.
‘What is it? Is everything okay?’
I was still on the doorstep. Christ, my whole life seemed to be lived on the doorstep. Never fully in or out, never feeling as though I belonged anywhere. She pulled the door behind her and stepped outside.
‘You’ll get cold,’ I said.
‘It doesn’t matter. I have a feeling this conversation won’t take very long.’
I looked up at her. She was always more intuitive than me. She was the smartest woman I’d ever met. There was no point trying to find the ‘right’ words because they simply did not exist.
‘You’re an amazing woman—’
‘Oh God.’
‘What?’
‘Anything but the “It’s not you, it’s me” speech. It’s humiliating, Henry.’
‘But it’s true! It’s me, I’m the problem.’
‘I know that. So why are you leaving me?’
Fuck. This was why people lied. It’s far easier to lie to someone than to watch them bear the hurt of your careless words.
‘Because I thought I knew what love was. I thought it was something I could … manage. You and I, we knew how to rub along together. We had a good partnership. But if you’re honest I know you’ll think the same thing. We weren’t’—I searched the sky for inspiration—‘fireworks.’
‘Wow.’ She wiped a stray tear from her eye.
‘You must have had your doubts too, Issy.’ Stupidly, I thought she would agree with me.
‘Don’t expect me to make this easier for you, Henry. You see the thing is, I do love you. Very much, as it happens. And I thought we had fireworks.’
I felt ten stone heavier. Her arms were folded tightly around her. What could I say to make it better?
‘I’m so sorry, Isabelle. I truly am. I never wanted to hurt you.’
She said nothing; wouldn’t even meet my eyes.
‘I feel terrible,’ I said.
‘You feel terrible? Try being dumped on the doorstep by your fiancée before we even had a chance to pick out a ring! This must be some kind of record.’