The Therapist by B.A. Paris

Thirty-Nine

It takes me a moment to swallow the disappointment of him not being Thomas.

‘Oh, hello,’ I say, shaking his hand. He’s younger than I expected, early thirties, I’m guessing, and very good-looking. ‘Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Ben.’

‘I was at a property here in The Circle, discussing a possible sale, and I thought I’d come by and introduce myself seeing as we only met over the phone.’

‘I should have called you back to apologise,’ I say, embarrassed that I hadn’t. ‘It never occurred to me that Leo already knew about the murder.’

‘Please don’t worry. I’m just glad it didn’t put you off living here.’

‘It hasn’t been easy,’ I admit. ‘And I won’t be here much longer. Another week and I’ll be going back to Harlestone. Leo is staying,’ I add, in case he thinks that the house is going to be back on the market.

‘Right.’ He doesn’t seem surprised and I wonder if he already knows from Mark that Leo and I are splitting up. He peers behind me into the hall. ‘Ginny told me you knocked two of the upstairs bedrooms into one. It must be amazing.’

It’s on the tip of my tongue to invite him in to see it. But something holds me back.

‘Why don’t you drop in next time you’re in the area? I’m sure Leo will be happy to show you around.’

‘I’ll do that, thanks. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’

‘Me too.’ I give him a smile. ‘How’s the golf going? You can’t believe how grateful Ginny is that you’re getting Mark out of the house at weekends.’

He laughs. ‘He’s becoming very good. Well, I’d better get on. Perhaps I’ll see you again, if ever you’re at Ginny’s.’

‘I’m sure I will be. Thank you for coming by. It was nice to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’

He leaves with a wave and I watch as he crosses over the road and disappears into the square.

I take out my mobile and text Ginny – I just had a visit from Ben.

She texts back – Lucky you! How come?

He was in the area and wanted to introduce himself.

That was nice of him. He’s lovely, isn’t he?

I want to tell her that he is, but not as nice as Thomas, and I feel guilty that I can’t, guilty that I’ve never told her about him, because I usually tell her most things.

I go back to my study but I can’t concentrate on work because Ben’s visit is on my mind. Is it weird that he turned up? Ginny didn’t think it was, she said it was nice of him to call. I need to stop being suspicious of everyone.

Even of Will, it seems, because at eight o’clock, he comes to the door with a set of keys dangling from his finger.

‘Found them,’ he says, smiling happily.

‘Great!’ I say. ‘Where were they?’

‘On the side, amongst Eve’s clutter. They must have fallen off the hook and got buried before anyone noticed.’

‘It happens,’ I say, because it does. ‘Thanks, Will.’

When evening comes, even though I no longer have to worry about a set of keys being in the wild, I move to the sitting room. I plan to spend the night watching television. If I feel tired, I can doze on the sofa.

I don’t have the volume on the TV turned up loud but at around three in the morning, I find myself muting it. There was a noise, from the kitchen, I’m sure of it. My heart in my mouth, I get up from the sofa and look around the room. If someone has got into the house, I need to stop them getting in here. They’ll have heard the television, they’ll know where I am.

Moving quietly, I take a low table and put it tight up against the door, then fetch a couple of lamps and put them on top of the table. If someone opens the door, the table and lamps will go flying, buying me enough time to dial 999.

I wait five minutes, my body tense with nerves, my phone ready in my hand, then wait five minutes more and when I don’t hear anything else, I try and relax. But I can’t bring myself to go and check if there was anyone there. I don’t feel like going back to the film I was watching so I curl up on the sofa and wonder if it really is worth staying another week. The reason I asked for two weeks was because I hoped Thomas would have made some progress by then. And because, if I’m honest, I didn’t want to never see him again. But now that he’s said he’ll come and see me in Harlestone, I no longer have to worry. It’s probably better that I go. I told Thomas that I want Nina’s killer brought to justice, no matter who it is. But what if it does turn out to be someone from here, how will I feel then?

At six o’clock, I open the curtains and look outside. It’s still dark but there are lights on in some of the houses, people getting ready to go about their everyday lives. That’s what I want, I realise, an everyday life, not one with secrets and lies, fear and mistrust. I’m going back to Harlestone today.

The feeling of a huge weight being lifted off my shoulders is incredible. I go back to the sofa and sleep until my alarm rings at ten. The table and lamps are still in front of the door so I put them back where they’re meant to be and head to the kitchen for coffee. Now that I’ve decided to leave, I need to pack, phone Debbie, Leo, Ginny and Thomas. I can tell Eve that I’m leaving when I see her at lunch. For the first time in a long time, I feel happy. I don’t belong here.

As soon as I walk into the kitchen, I know that something has changed. I come to a stop, the weirdest of sensations coursing through my body. I was right, someone has been here, I can feel it on my skin, taste it on my tongue. I walk further in and take a careful look around. I can’t see anything but something is definitely different.

My eyes fall on the French windows that give onto the terrace. I go over and try the handle – they’re still locked. I stoop to examine the lock; it doesn’t look as if it’s been tampered with but, when I think about it, it’s logical that whoever is getting in is getting in this way, because of the mortice lock on the inside of the front door. Even with keys, nobody can get in if I’ve locked it from the inside. There have been times when I’ve forgotten to lock it. But not recently. Since Leo left, I’ve been obsessive about it.

I go to my study and find the keys that Will gave me last night. There are only the two keys for the front door. The smaller one that would open the French windows isn’t there. Did Will remove it before he gave the keys back to me? Or was it never there?

I phone Leo.

‘Is everything alright?’ he asks, as if he knows that it isn’t. It puts me on my guard. Everything puts me on my guard. I’m suspicious of everyone and everything.

‘Why shouldn’t it be?’

‘It’s just that you seem a bit all over the place at the moment.’

I bite back an angry retort. He’s right, I am.

‘The keys you gave Will – were they only for the front door or was there one for the French windows?’ I ask.

‘Um – only for the front door. There are only two keys for the French windows, the one we keep in the drawer in the kitchen and the spare in my study.’

‘Where in your study?’ I ask, already checking the kitchen drawer to see if the key is there. It is.

‘In my desk, top drawer on the right. Is there a problem?’

‘If someone is getting into the house,’ I say, running up the stairs, ‘the only way they could get in would be through the French windows, as long as I’ve locked the front door from the inside.’ I get to his study and open the right-hand drawer. The spare key is there.

‘Or through a window,’ he says.

‘They’d make too much noise. Are you sure there aren’t any more keys for the French windows?’

‘Quite sure. Ben gave me all the keys he had.’

‘Ben?’

‘From Redwoods.’

‘But you changed all the locks, so the keys he gave you wouldn’t work anyway.’

‘I changed the locks on the front door, but not on the French windows. It didn’t seem worth it.’

Alarm bells clang in my head. ‘So,’ I say slowly. ‘How do you know that Ben didn’t keep back a key for the French windows?’

‘Why would he do that?’

‘If the only logical way someone could get into the house is through the French windows, someone else must have a key, because the two that we know about are both here, I just checked.’

‘Don’t tell me – you think Ben kept one back and has been breaking into the house.’ I can hear the resignation in his voice.

‘Don’t sound so sceptical. I’m only thinking that because he came here yesterday.’

‘What – Ben did?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘He said he was in the area and wanted to introduce himself.’

‘Maybe he was just being nice.’

‘Or maybe he had an ulterior motive. He sort of hinted that he wanted to come in and see the work we had done upstairs.’

‘You didn’t let him in, did you?’

‘No, I told him to come back when you were here. It seemed a bit strange and then, last night, I was in the sitting room and I heard a noise in the kitchen. There’s no sign of a break-in or anything and nothing is missing. But now I’m wondering – what if it was Ben?’

‘That’s a huge jump to make. I mean – what would his motive be, if nothing is missing?’

‘Maybe he knew Nina—’

‘No.’ Leo’s voice is firm and for a moment I think he’s telling me that he knows Ben didn’t know Nina.

‘But what if he sold Nina and Oliver the house?’

‘Alice. This has got to stop.’

‘What?’

‘Your obsession with this murder. It’s bad enough that you’ve suspected me and almost every one of our neighbours of having been involved. But when you start accusing our estate agent, when you don’t even know if he knew Nina – it can’t go on.’

‘I’m not going to stop until I know who’s been creeping around the house at night,’ I say fiercely. ‘Because somebody has.’

‘Then find proof. If you have proof, we can phone the police. But we need proof. We can’t just tell them that we think somebody has broken in, they’ll laugh at us. So, until you find something missing, or something that isn’t as it should be, we can’t do anything.’ He pauses. ‘I’m going to come back, Alice. You shouldn’t be there on your own.’

‘It’s alright, I’m leaving. I’m going back to Harlestone.’

‘When?’ His relief is evident.

‘Today, at the end of the afternoon. I’ve got lunch with Eve, so I’ll leave after. You can move back in tomorrow.’

‘I’m really sorry it’s come to this,’ he says quietly.

My eyes fill with tears. ‘So am I.’