The Man She Married: A gripping psychological thriller with a heart-pounding twist(15)

My mind goes back to what Sidney Fairholme told me. He must have been mistaken about Patricia being away the previous Christmas. Maybe he’d just muddled the dates, and she’d left for her cruise immediately after her son’s visit. Or was confusing it with the year before. That must be it: the old boy looked eighty if he was a day.



My train gets into King’s Cross at 5.45, and by the time Dominic returns from work, I’m back home in the kitchen, chopping onions for a lasagne.

‘Been shopping?’ he asks, waving the pink bobble hat in my direction. I left it on the newel post in the hall.

‘Yes, I popped into the West End, just to check out the sales. Thought I might as well make the most of my time off.’ Comida is on a seasonal break until New Year’s Eve, when we have a couple of big parties to cater.

I redden slightly at the fib, but Dominic doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he wraps an arm round my shoulder and reaches in for a kiss. ‘I won’t need to go in to the office tomorrow, so maybe we could go to the flicks, see one of the Oscar contenders you’ve been talking about?’

‘Lovely.’

‘Anything else to report?’

I look intently at the chopping board. ‘Nope.’

I continue to avoid eye contact as I reach into the fridge for garlic and celery. Whether or not Dom has lied to me, I am definitely lying to him.





Seven





Alice





Then





I earmark the first weekend in April for our first marital visit to Tyneside. We will just miss Easter, but it can still be a celebration of sorts, especially as it coincides with our first wedding anniversary. A whole year has raced past. I continue to say nothing to Dom about my failed attempt to meet his mother.

But for now, I’m very busy running Comida, with a glut of new clients and extra staff to hire. I put the issue of Dominic’s family firmly from my mind. David has just announced his engagement to Melanie, so there’s another family wedding on the horizon, and I’ve promised my help with the catering. Dominic is also working longer and longer hours at Ellwood Archer. Our time together is limited, but always fun. We eat out as often as we can, and squeeze in cinema trips, walks in London parks and gallery visits at weekends.

Dom also encourages me to be social without him when he’s busy with work. So one evening at the end of February, I’m out for drinks without him, celebrating JoJo’s thirty-fourth birthday. I’m crammed into the corner of the wine bar at the far end of a table with seven other women and several bottles of Prosecco, and the cacophony from their shrieks of laughter is so intense that I don’t hear my mobile ringing. Several times. When I eventually glance down at my bag, I see that I have six missed calls and a text from Dominic. I frown at the screen, surprised; Dom never contacts me when I’m out. I open the text.

I’ve had some bad news. Need you to come home. X





JoJo is so far into her third bottle of Prosecco that she barely notices me slipping past her out of the bar and into the street, where I race along the pavement to hail a passing cab. I text Dominic.

On my way now x





He’s waiting for me in the sitting room, still in his work suit, but with the tie removed. His expression is serious, and his eyelids are pink, as though he’s been crying. I’ve never seen him in tears. He’s never seemed the type of man who would.

He perches on the edge of the sofa and pats it for me to sit beside him. I do so, my coat still clutched in my hand.

I instinctively reach for him, but he pulls back. ‘What is it, Dom? You’re scaring me now.’

‘It’s my mum. She’s died.’

I stare, my mouth slightly open. ‘What? How? What happened?’

‘Fatal heart attack. It was very sudden; she didn’t suffer.’

I find myself mentally calculating dates. ‘But… is she… was she still on the cruise?’

Dominic looks confused. ‘How the hell do you know she’s on a cruise?’

And then I remember. I’m not supposed to know about the cruise, because I’m not supposed to have visited the North-East. I take a deep breath and confess; it seems only right in the circumstances. I tell him that I did in fact travel to Newcastle at Christmas in the hope of surprising Patricia, but that her neighbour told me she was away on a cruise.

‘Sorry,’ I finish, squeezing his arm. ‘I know I should have told you. But when she wasn’t even there, I felt a bit of a fool, to be honest… And since we planned a trip up there soon anyway, I suppose I just put it to the back of my mind.’

Dominic sighs heavily. ‘I don’t mind you going, sweetie; your intentions were the best. I’d forgotten all about the bloody cruise… I’m just so sorry she wasn’t there, because at least then you would have met her. Too bloody late for that now.’

He explains that the ship’s captain contacted his brother Simon, who was listed as her next of kin. Patricia’s body was kept in the ship’s mortuary for a few days, but since maritime practice is for the body to be offloaded as soon as possible, her remains were taken off the ship at Gibraltar and cremated. The ashes were now on their way back to the UK.

‘Apparently they held a little service for her on board ship, with prayers and flowers and stuff,’ Dominic says sadly.