The Therapist by B.A. Paris

Twenty-Eight

Idon’t want to disturb Leo’s weekend with Ginny and Mark but I’m desperate to speak to him about Nina Maxwell. My mind tells me that he couldn’t have known her but my heart wonders if that was why he wanted this house so much. The thought that he didn’t just know her, but had had an affair with her, won’t go away and a chill goes down my spine when I remember what Thomas said, about a murderer returning to the scene of the crime. I chase the thought quickly; Leo might have concealed the murder from me but he’s not a murderer.

I don’t want to disturb him at work either so I wait until the end of the afternoon to send him a text.

I need to speak to you, when is a good time?

Now, he replies, and my phone starts ringing.

His eagerness is unsettling. I’m not ready, I wanted to get my thoughts in order first.

‘How are you?’ he asks.

‘Fine. Did you have a good weekend?’

‘Yes, it was good to be with Ginny and Mark. What about you, how are you getting on staying in the house by yourself?’

‘I feel fine here now.’

‘Right.’

There isn’t anything particular in his voice but I don’t like that a tiny part of him might be thinking that I got over my squeamishness a bit too quickly.

‘Sometimes, something bad happens and then something worse comes along – like someone you trust lying to you – and the first thing doesn’t seem so bad after all,’ I say.

He sighs. ‘What did you want to speak to me about?’

‘Nina.’

‘Your sister?’

Is he doing it on purpose? ‘No, Nina Maxwell. Did you know her?’

‘No.’ He sounds puzzled.

‘OK, so did you ever meet her?’

‘Isn’t that the same thing?’

‘The woman you were talking to in Harlestone one day, the blond woman who supposedly asked you what it was like to live in the village. Was it Nina?’

‘What? No. Why would you think it was Nina Maxwell?’

‘Did you have an affair with her?’

‘Who?’

‘Nina.’

‘Are you serious?’ Now he’s angry. ‘For God’s sake, Alice, where has this come from? You really think that I had an affair with Nina Maxwell? I didn’t even know her!’

‘Then who was the woman who came to Harlestone? And don’t tell me she was someone who wanted to know what it was like to live in the village.’

‘Alright.’ There’s a pause. ‘She was one of the clients I told you about, who were harassing me.’

‘Why was she harassing you?’

His voice becomes cold. ‘I’m not going to explain my business dealings over the phone. Anyway, I’m glad you called. I need to get something from my study – is it alright if I come over?’

‘What, tonight?’

‘Yes, now.’

‘Aren’t you in Birmingham?’

‘No, I had to be in London today.’

‘Alright.’

‘I’ll see you in half-an-hour.’

He cuts the call and I stand with my mobile in my hand, thinking over the conversation we just had. There was something off about his request to come over. He tried to make it sound as if it had been in his plans all along, but it came across as a spur-of-the-moment decision, brought on by my mention of Nina. Besides, if he needed to come over, he would have phoned me to ask, not waited until I phoned him. Worry gnaws away at me. What if he had known Nina?

It’s only a week since I last saw Leo but he looks like someone I used to know, not because he hasn’t shaved for a couple of days but because of the awkwardness between us. He’s taken off his jacket and left it in the hall, as if he’s expecting to stay for a while. It makes me feel that I should offer him a drink but I don’t really want to.

‘Hi,’ he says.

‘Hi.’

He waits and when I don’t say anything more, he shrugs. ‘I’ll go and get what I need, then.’

‘OK.’

He returns to the hall, and I hear him rustling in his jacket. Moving quietly to the door, I see him go upstairs, two steps at a time, his wallet in his hand. A moment later, there’s the familiar screech of one of the drawers in the filing cabinet being pulled open. So, he keeps the key to the cabinet in his wallet.

In his wallet. Why not in the drawer of his desk, or on top of the filing cabinet, where it would be easily accessible? Are his client files really so important that he doesn’t want anyone, including me, to be able to get to them? Or is he hiding something there, something that the little key, taped to the underside of his drawer, would open?

A few minutes later, he runs down the stairs, fumbles with his jacket, then comes into the kitchen, a couple of files under his arm.

‘Did you forget to take them when you came over on Saturday?’ I ask.

He puts them down on the table. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The files. Why didn’t you take them with you when you were here on Saturday?’

‘I was with Ginny and Mark on Saturday.’

‘Yes, but you came here first, I saw you in the study. And then, as soon as you saw me crossing the square you left.’

He shakes his head. ‘Not me.’

‘I saw you, Leo!’

‘Alice, it wasn’t me, I swear.’

‘Where were you when you phoned me?’

‘At Ginny and Mark’s, in my bedroom.’ He frowns. ‘Are you saying you saw someone in the house?’

I think back to the blur of a face I’d seen at the window. I don’t want to believe that I scared myself into thinking there was someone in the house when it was only the late-September sunshine casting its glow on the upstairs window.

‘I thought I saw someone in your study, but maybe I was mistaken.’

‘Did you check the house?’

‘Yes, and everything was fine.’ I decide not to mention the faint smell of aftershave in the bedroom. He’s only been gone a week, it’s not surprising that there are still traces of him. And maybe I knocked the photo of us over when I was hoovering, and hadn’t noticed. ‘But if you could check the windows, I’d be grateful.’

‘Sure.’

He starts to head off and I feel mean not offering him a drink.

‘Would you like a glass of wine?’

He retraces his footsteps. ‘Thanks.’

I take a couple of glasses from the cupboard, find a bottle of red wine, open it, pour it.

‘Thanks.’ He takes a sip. ‘I hope you were joking when you asked me if I had an affair with Nina. I didn’t know her, I promise.’

‘It’s alright, I believe you.’

He pulls out a chair and sits down. ‘The woman who came to Harlestone – she was a journalist. She wanted to interview me about my job for an article she was writing. I’d already refused twice by phone so she thought she’d accost me in person.’

‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to accost you at your London flat rather than travel all the way to Harlestone? How did she know you’d be there, anyway? How did she get my address?’

He takes another sip of wine. ‘I have no idea.’

‘I’m not being funny, but your job has never struck me as particularly exciting, at least not exciting enough to devote column inches to.’

‘Certain aspects of it are. Risk management is a hot topic at the moment.’

I nod, because maybe it is.

I ask him about his weekend with Ginny and Mark and he asks about mine with the neighbours. Stupidly, I tell him that because of the face I thought I saw at the window, I found it hard to sleep.

‘You shouldn’t be here on your own, Alice.’

‘I’m fine.’

He toys with his glass. ‘I’d like to come back.’

‘I need more time.’

‘How much more?’ He leans forward, finds my eyes. ‘I love you, Alice. I want to be with you, not stuck in a dingy flat in Birmingham.’

‘You don’t have to be in a dingy flat.’

‘That’s not the point.’

‘It is. It’s as if you’re trying to make yourself as miserable as possible.’

‘I am miserable!’ When I don’t say anything, he sighs. ‘Do you want me to check the upstairs windows as well?’

‘Yes, please.’

He drains the rest of his wine. ‘I’ll do them first.’

I follow him into the hall, my arm brushing against his jacket as I stand at the bottom of the stairs. I pause, then make a split decision.

‘I’ll wait here in case you need anything,’ I say. ‘A screwdriver or something.’

‘OK.’

I wait until he’s disappeared up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, then wait a few minutes more.

‘Is everything alright?’ I call, my hand already in his jacket.

‘So far. I just need to check our bedroom.’

There are three windows in the bedroom, plus the one in the en-suite, which should give me enough time. I take out his wallet, open it, leaf through it quickly. At first, I think the key isn’t there but then I find it, tucked in one of the two smaller slots at the front, normally reserved for stamps. I slip it into my pocket.

‘All OK?’ I call, pushing his wallet back into place.

‘All good.’ My heart misses a beat – his voice is close, too close. I look up and see him standing at the top of the stairs. Can he see my hand inside his jacket? He starts coming down and I take a quick step back.

‘By the way,’ I say, looking for something to distract him from the guilt I’m sure is showing on my face. ‘Did you know there’s a gap in the fence between ours and Will’s? Oliver used to lend Will his lawnmower and they used the gap to get back and forth between the gardens. There’s one on the other side too, apparently, because Oliver used to cut Edward’s grass for him.’

‘No, I didn’t know. But it’s a good idea to have them there.’ He pauses. ‘Do you think I should be offering to cut Edward’s grass?’

‘Eve said that Geoff does it now.’

While I worry that he might need to open the filing cabinet again before he leaves – because if he can’t find the key, he’ll guess that I’ve taken it – he checks the downstairs windows.

‘What time is your train back to Birmingham?’ I ask, needing him to leave.

‘I have to be in London again tomorrow, so I’m staying with Ginny and Mark tonight.’

‘They must be waiting for you to have dinner.’

He gives a quick smile.

‘It’s alright, I’m leaving.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, guiltily. ‘I wish I didn’t still feel angry with you. But I do.’

I wait until he’s left, then take out my mobile and call Ginny.

‘You know when you phoned me on Saturday to say that Leo was staying the weekend with you? Where was he when you phoned me?’

‘Um – upstairs in his bedroom, I think. He told me that he’d left you a message to tell you he was staying with us and I realised I hadn’t told you that Mark had invited him, and I didn’t want you to think we were taking sides. Is everything alright? It’s not because he’s still here, is it? But he had to be in London today, and again tomorrow.’

‘No, it’s absolutely fine, it’s lovely of you to have him,’ I say.

‘Are you sure you’re alright with it?’

‘Yes. It’s just that on Saturday, I was out and when I got back, I was sure he’d been here. But he said that he hadn’t, that he was at yours.’

‘Yes, that’s right. He arrived on Friday evening and didn’t go out all weekend. Mark offered to take him golfing on Saturday with him and Ben but he had work to do and spent the day in his bedroom.’

‘Great. Thanks, Ginny. Let’s have lunch again soon.’

‘Call me when you know what day.’

‘I will.’

I cut the call, feeling bad for not believing Leo when he said he hadn’t come to the house. I take the key from my pocket, the one I sneaked from his wallet, and drop it into a little earthen pot that stands on my desk. I’m not going to use it, I can’t. I’m not that sort of person.