The Forever Home by Sue Watson

Chapter Thirty-Two

I didn’t understand. The night Erin ran out of my house, Ryan wasn’t there. He turned up later, about half an hour later, after I’d been out looking for her; he was inside the house, said he’d just arrived. He made out he wasn’t even aware that Erin had been there – so why did he lie, and what the hell was going on?

Just then, one of the officers stood at the glass doors, holding something in a clear bag. I couldn’t see from where I was what was in it, but he was gesturing for Sally to go out to him.

‘Excuse me, Carly, I won’t be a minute,’ she said, and disappeared into the garden.

I felt breathless. I wanted to be sick; was this real? Had Ryan done something to Erin? Had he followed her here, to my house that night? Everything was tangled up in my head, and I couldn’t straighten it out.

And what was happening now, in the garden? Had the police found something of Ryan’s that was incriminating? Sally was walking down to the bottom of the garden to greet two police officers who’d come into the garden from the beach below.

I had to do something or I might explode. I was so tense, and so very nauseous, and carried the cups to the sink, where I washed them carefully, trying not to shake. Then I threw up.

I managed to clean myself up and was sitting back on the sofa with a glass of water when Sally returned, marching in through the glass doors, where Erin had left. She looked pale; there was no jauntiness, no more acting my friend, just a serious detective face, when she said, ‘I am sorry, Carly, I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the station with me.’

I couldn’t speak. I had so many questions, but everything became a blur as she read me my rights and I was escorted to the police car parked outside.

I don’t remember the journey to the police station, I just remember the ball of fear sitting in my throat, threatening to erupt into sobs at any moment. I’d only ever been in one once. I was eight years old and Mum and I went there to report our missing cat. This was very different, and I didn’t know what scared me most, that Ryan had done something to Erin, or that they thought I had.

After being checked in – a mortifying experience – I was soon sitting in a room with Sally and another female detective plus a duty solicitor called Peter. He seemed kind and calm, but was probably as nervous as me, which made me wonder what he knew that I didn’t. He smiled politely while the two women detectives made small talk that I couldn’t help but feel was some kind of warm-up act. Watching them, I doubted if Peter had the knowledge, the gravitas – or quite frankly, the balls – to support me adequately against two alpha females?

‘It must be lovely living in that house, on the cliffs, above the sea,’ Sally was saying, as she gathered her notes together. ‘If I won the lottery, I’d have a house just like it.’ She turned to DCI Choudry, her partner in the interview. ‘It’s the original Forever Home, the very first one, before Mark Anderson started doing other houses up, it’s gorgeous,’ she said, in hushed tones.

They both raised eyebrows to each other, presumably to signal envy – or was it perhaps a secret detective signal to say ‘she’s guilty’ or ‘she’s an idiot, that murdering toy boy played her for a fiddle’? By then I was completely paranoid; my husband had told them I was a jealous liar, my boyfriend was on CCTV lurking in the driveway, and my sofa throw had been found on the beach, covered in Erin Matthews’ blood. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, it looked like they’d found something incriminating in my garden.

Sally turned on the tape and they started the interview, asking exactly the same questions I’d been asked before. I just told them again what happened and what I knew. Meanwhile, Peter, who looked barely older than Phoebe, squirmed in the seat next to me. It seemed that this fight was mine, and I was on my own in it, so rather than wait for my cue from him, I dived right in.

‘Look, I realise potentially something terrible might have happened, and I also feel that, in retrospect, I should have done more. But you’re asking the same things over and over. How many ways can I tell you… whatever’s happened to Erin Matthews, I wasn’t involved?’

I was tired, and becoming tearful, and Peter finally intervened to ask if I wanted a rest. I shook my head and he offered me water, but I refused.

‘I just want to go home,’ I said. ‘Have you asked Ryan why he was there? He might know something?’ I said, still clinging to some hope that Ryan was innocent, and his weird, unexplained presence at the bottom of my drive might be my salvation.

‘Ryan Jarvis is here now,’ Choudry responded; she seemed cooler than Sally, more businesslike.

‘Has he been arrested too?’

‘No, he came here with some information.’

‘Oh?’ I murmured. ‘Can you tell me what…?’

‘I’m sorry, I can’t,’ she said tightly.

What the hell was Ryan up to? What information did he suddenly have? Why was he standing in my drive that night? Had he given himself up, or had he thrown me under the bus too? Could I trust anyone any more?

‘Now,’ she said, shuffling papers, ‘can we please just go over this again? Your husband said you made threats on the phone…’

I shook my head, confused. ‘Threats? What kind of threats?’

‘Threats to his partner, Erin Matthews,’ she said, unblinking.

‘No – no I didn’t.’ I was alarmed. Mark again, my God. I would make him pay for what he was putting me through.

DCI Choudry breathed out loudly, and looked down at her notes. ‘In a telephone conversation with Mr Anderson on Wednesday the nineteenth May you said—’ She paused for a moment, then read slowly in a monotone, ‘“It won’t be the patter of tiny feet she hears, it’ll be the sound of me chasing her with a bloody baseball bat!”’

Shit. I could remember saying that, Ryan and I even joked about it, but it wasn’t a threat – although now, in this context, it sounded exactly like one.

‘I take it you were referring to Ms Matthews when you said that?’ DCI Choudry pressed.

‘Okay – yes, I was. And I can see why that might sound vaguely threatening, but—’

‘Vaguely?’ Choudry said.

I felt like I was drowning. Surely they knew as well as I did it was an expression, a way of venting my anger. I didn’t mean it literally.

‘We also have statements from two waitresses at the Silver Spoon Tearooms,’ Sally piped up, shuffling yet more papers. My whole bloody life counted out in sheets of A4. ‘They say there was an argument between you and Erin there?’

‘I guess you could call it that, but—’

‘And you said,’ she looked at her notes, ‘“Haven’t you stolen enough from me already? You dare come anywhere near my house and I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”’ Sally looked up. Choudry looked up. Four enquiring eyes glaring at me. Waiting. Wondering how the hell I was going to worm my way out of this.

‘She… she’d just told me she wanted my house, how I was alone and didn’t need the space, that I was being selfish… I’m sure you understand how that would feel, Sally?’ I said, turning my gaze to her, desperately trying to connect with her as someone who’d had experience of a cheating partner.

She looked slightly uncomfortable at my direct plea, but nodded. ‘Yeah, yeah sure. I mean, it would make me bloody angry – like you obviously were…’

For a second, I was relieved, then realised I was being walked back into quicksand. ‘Yes, I was angry – but it was in the moment. I wanted to stop her from entertaining the idea that she could take my home from me.’

‘So, it was a temporary anger, and you didn’t resent her for being with your husband, or want him back?’

‘Exactly. And as for my husband spouting theories about me still having feelings for him, he wouldn’t know – he hasn’t listened to me since about 1998.’ It was a weak joke – but not far from the truth. He hadn’t a clue about me; it seemed he’d created this idea in his head that I’d do anything to get him back, including murder. Either that or he was suggesting this as a distraction, to cover for something he’d done. Did people even do that in real life, or was it just in TV crime dramas? Either way, I got the feeling the police were buying his theories – I was the woman scorned after all, and could easily have pushed Erin off the cliff that night. ‘Mark doesn’t know anything about me now, he has no right to suggest I want him back. In fact…’ I hesitated, I really didn’t want to bring Ryan into this, but I was fighting for my life here. ‘I’m seeing someone, I’ve moved on. I’m very happy.’

They glanced at each other, and as I’d expected asked who it was.

‘I’d rather not give his name, but needless to say, I’m over my husband, and had no reason to harm Erin.’

‘Carly, it would be really helpful to us – and for you – if you told us his name. It doesn’t mean he’ll be implicated.’

I wasn’t convinced. I thought it would make Ryan and me look very implicated. I’d only told them this to make it clear I wasn’t jealous; I had no intention of revealing his name. And knowing he’d been on the CCTV and was now being questioned put a whole different light on our burgeoning relationship. In my head it was already over.

‘He has nothing to do with this,’ I said, though it was looking very much like he did.

‘Okay, well in that case there’s nothing to worry about and it may help to clear a few things up,’ Sally said pointedly, but with a smile.

‘It’s not really a relationship – I mean…’ I tried. But they were both looking at me, pens poised. So I took a deep breath. ‘Ryan Jarvis,’ I said.

I saw a look pass between them, so continued to try and downplay it.

‘He’s just been working on the house, and he’s – well, a friend, but only recently it’s become something more. So, you see, I’ve moved on, and it’s not true what Mark said about me being jealous. I don’t hold a grudge against Erin,’ I said, desperately trying to get back to defending myself against Mark’s ridiculous claims.

DCI Choudry sighed, and Sally wrote something down. Then they asked me details like how long I’d known Ryan and when had the relationship changed. And then they continued asking me the same things again and again, until I wanted to scream.

They seemed to take a deep breath at exactly the same time.

‘Carly.’ Sally leaned forward, speaking quietly, going for a softer approach. ‘You can see our problem, can’t you, love? We’ve got a missing twenty-four-year-old woman. She’s your husband’s girlfriend, and was last seen at your place – and now she’s disappeared. Your CCTV shows her arriving and knocking at the front door, but it doesn’t show her leaving…’

‘No, it won’t because she must have gone out through the back garden and if she walked close to the wall, the CCTV wouldn’t have picked her up,’ I said, wishing I’d been able to afford CCTV at the back of the house and I might be able to prove my innocence. Because that’s what this was turning into – me desperately trying to convince the police of my innocence.

‘Okay, but then we find your sofa throw, covered in blood – Erin’s blood – on the beach.’

‘But I told you, that could easily have been put there by her to make me look guilty.’ How many times did I have to say this? Surely they could see that someone was trying to frame me? But who? Mark, Erin… Ryan?

‘And then today, we find bits of wool from the throw on the rose bushes in your garden, and the rocks beneath your house…’

‘Oh?’ Even Peter reacted to this, as he shifted in his seat, and I took it as a sign that things weren’t looking good for me.

‘…And her phone smashed up and shoved behind the garden shed.’

‘Christ.’ I threw my arms onto the table and buried my head in them.

In the silence, I suddenly heard DCI Choudry’s voice: ‘Do you still think you’re being made to look guilty, Carly?’

I slowly lifted my head, tears now filling my eyes. ‘I don’t KNOW,’ I yelled.

They didn’t flinch, just sat and waited for me to calm down. Then eventually Sally started talking to me like a primary school teacher. ‘Carly, thing is, we’re at a loss, because none of this is adding up, and everything keeps coming back to you and your home.’

‘I know, I know. And I wish I could explain it to you…’ I began earnestly, ‘but I don’t understand it myself. I’ve no idea why her phone was there, or why the throw or—’ I glanced over at Peter, who I think was about to drop off. He certainly didn’t look as if he was going to come in and save me any time soon, in fact it didn’t look as if he believed me either.

DCI Choudry took a breath. ‘So, you said Erin came to your house that night, hoping to catch you and Mark together?’

I wanted to bang my head on the table. This was a never-ending loop of the same questions. If I’d been guilty or was trying to hide something, it might have worked, but I wasn’t. As we were going around in circles, I was about to start saying ‘no comment’ to everything until it stopped, but just then, a police officer knocked and came into the room.

He whispered something to Sally, which I couldn’t hear, but I did hear her murmur, ‘You’re kidding?’ then ‘Shit,’ under her breath.

What the hell had happened now?

Sally looked at DCI Choudry, and asked her to turn off the tape. ‘We are stopping the interview. Would you be kind enough to wait here, Carly? We just have something to attend to.’ And with that, they both left the room.

‘Are you okay?’ Peter asked.

I just nodded; I didn’t want to get into any conversations with him. Besides, they might be watching us behind a two-way mirror, trying to catch me out.

We waited a long time, me tapping my fingers on the desk, him opening his briefcase, taking out an apple and crunching loudly into the silence. It was torturous; my life was hanging in the balance. I didn’t even know if the thing they had to ‘attend to’ had anything to do with Erin. It could have been something relevant that implicated me, and I’d be jailed for the next twenty years while my kids fought the courts to prove my innocence – if they even believed my innocence, if the evidence was that damning. Or it could have been a completely different case, and they would leave us here, me and Peter and his big, crunchy apple – only to return refreshed and ready for another round?

Oh God, I couldn’t take it. I hated Mark for putting me through this – just by having her in his life he’d brought all this on me. How dare he get himself into some hopeless relationship and imply to the police that I might have done something to his mistress! My head was a whirl, I couldn’t think straight and was beginning to feel nauseous as I hadn’t eaten for hours and I was scared of going to prison for something I hadn’t done. I tried not to think about my kids and what this would do to them, because I’d just start crying and not stop.

Then suddenly, after about an hour, the door opened, and in came DCI Choudry, alone. She sat down, and looked at me. I desperately searched her face but she remained impassive.

The door opened again and in came Sally, who joined DCI Choudry. ‘So…’ she started. ‘Erin has been found.’

‘Oh God!’ I almost collapsed on the chair. Erin’s body had been found. This was the worst news, and I started to cry. ‘Where was she found?’ I asked, through tears of sadness and exhaustion.

‘We can’t say.’

‘Do you know who… killed her?’

‘Oh, sorry, love – no, she’s not dead.’

‘She’s alive?’ I asked, just to absolutely make sure I’d got this right.

Sally nodded. ‘Alive and well.’

‘But… what happened?’

‘Well, at this stage it’s confidential, and we don’t actually have all the details. I’m sure in due course you will find out exactly what happened. But now you’re free to go.’

As desperate as I was to leave, I felt like after all I’d just been through, I was owed some kind of explanation.

‘Can’t you even tell me where she was found?’

Sally shook her head; she had a pained expression on her face like she really wanted to tell me everything, but wasn’t allowed to.

I stood up to go, my mind wild and frazzled with what might have happened. Had she been attacked and left on the beach? Had she gone away for a few nights and put everyone through hell? Mark and Estelle were now probably conjuring up some Hollywood-style story, ready to sell it to the highest bidder. ‘This just feels weird, going back out there like nothing’s happened.’

Sally gathered her papers and stood up, walking with me to the door. ‘Oh, stuff’s happened, you can be sure of that. Sorry I can’t be more specific, but until people have been charged… I can’t…’

‘Okay, I understand.’

‘But Ryan Jarvis is just outside,’ she said, and looked at me meaningfully. ‘I’m sure he’ll explain everything.’