Chapter 7 #2
Adam blinks rapidly. ‘Of course. Anything to help.’ He leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. ‘I can’t imagine what you must be going through. Is there anything we can do to support you?’
‘I’d like to collect Jamie’s personal things, if that’s okay?’
‘Of course. I’ll show you where his desk is.’
A few people look up as Adam leads Nadeeka through the large, open-plan office.
There are no construction workers at this site, only the back-office departments that support them, which Nadeeka now realizes are staffed mostly by women.
Had Jamie ever mentioned that? She turns her head this way and that, looking at all the women, trying to work out who Jamie would have found attractive.
Is one of these women a murderer? Or could their boyfriend or husband be responsible?
Yes, that makes sense . . . The boyfriend gets suspicious and follows his girlfriend to Cedar Walk, where he finds her in flagrante with Jamie.
There’s an altercation, things get out of hand, the boyfriend pulls out a knife and—
‘Here we are.’ Adam stops by a desk flanked by blue screens. ‘I’ll give you some privacy, but if you need me . . .’ He gestures to his office.
Nadeeka stutters her thanks, forcing away the unwelcome image of her partner with another woman.
She’s glad of the screens that shield her from view as she sits at Jamie’s desk.
She takes a moment to steady herself. His pen pot is a mug they bought in Tenby; his mouse-mat a photo of the sunset above the train track at the end of their garden.
Jamie’s handwriting is on a notepad on one side of the desk.
The whole cubicle is tidy, as though he’s gone on leave, and Nadeeka thinks that’s what she’ll tell herself: that he’s gone away for a bit. That he’ll be back.
She begins searching the drawers – with more care than she’d employed at home – but there’s hardly anything in them.
The usual soup of pens and elastic bands in the top drawer; a cereal bar and an overripe banana in the bottom.
Training guides; health and safety manuals; a hard hat with Jamie written in indelible marker on one side.
She takes out this last and holds it in her lap, cradling it like a baby, bent over with the effort of not crying.
On the desk is an A4 navy-blue diary with ATP Construction embossed in gold on the cover.
Still clutching the hard hat, Nadeeka opens it.
It’s full of meetings – online and in person – written in Jamie’s untidy scrawl.
As she flicks through the pages, she sees her own initials and stops, but when she looks more closely she realizes it isn’t NP but ND.
She turns the page to the following week, only to see the same initials there, too: ND.
Written in the same blue ink as the rest of the entries, but smaller than Jamie’s usual handwriting, and tucked into the bottom right-hand corner of the box, as though the addition had been an afterthought.
Or a secret.
The initials appear in the following week too, and the one after that. Nadeeka finds five of them in total. She takes out her phone and opens WhatsApp, opening the thread of messages between her and Jamie and scrolling back to last week, to the Friday evening marked in Jamie’s diary with ND.
Sorry, love, I definitely have to work late tonight. Not sure what time I’ll get away – eat with the girls and I’ll get something later? Xxx
Nadeeka’s heart thuds. She scrolls backwards through their messages, ignoring the hearts and the smiley faces and the silly photos they sent each other throughout the day.
Monday, 5.30 p.m.: Someone’s messed up and I need to stay late to fix things. Shouldn’t be too late. Love you xxx
On she scrolls, matching dates and reading the messages she had taken at face value when she’d received them.
Bloody IT system’s down! Will be home around 8 xxx
Got a few things to finish up. Hopefully it won’t take long xxx
The only ‘ND’ date that doesn’t match with a text is 10th November, and she frowns. Was he home that night or—
‘Nadia?’
The receptionist’s voice brings Nadeeka back to the office with a start. She snaps shut the diary and turns her phone screen-down.
‘Sorry to interrupt. Adam just told me what happened, and I wanted to say how incredibly sorry I am. Jamie was a lovely man.’
‘Yes. Yes, he was.’ Nadeeka’s throat constricts, and she tries not to cry.
‘Can I get you a glass of water? Cup of tea?’
‘No, thank you. You’re very kind.’ Nadeeka gathers Jamie’s things, clutching the desk diary to her chest. ‘I think I’m just going to—’
‘Um . . .’ The receptionist points to the yellow hard hat. ‘That’s actually . . . I mean, you can’t . . .’ She pulls an awkward face. ‘It’s company property, you see.’
Nadeeka blinks at the hat, at the marker pen Jamie.
‘Right.’ She hands it over, then she walks towards the exit, and all the people who had nodded politely when she’d arrived are getting out of their seats now and saying I’m so sorry for your loss, and He was a great guy, and Nadeeka can’t bear it.
Who is ND? And why was Jamie meeting them in secret?
Had Jamie been a great guy? She doesn’t know any more.
In fact, Nadeeka’s starting to think she didn’t know Jamie at all.