Chapter 12
TWELVE
The way Leo looks at me makes my insides burn. I’ve become a stranger to him, and he’s struggling to find his way back to me. He told me before that I mean more to him than this place, but how can that be true when in his eyes I only see sadness and disappointment? And worse, resignation.
We’re sitting in the garden because I need fresh air; the house is too suffocating and, despite Leo pleading with me to go inside, insisting that it’s too hot out here, I’ve stood my ground.
‘It has to be her,’ I say, drumming my fingers on the garden table. ‘She didn’t expect me to come to her house so she didn’t think of moving that candle. And she lied about having an affair with Giles. It all just makes me look . . . crazy.’
Leo buries his head in his hands. ‘Ria, this doesn’t make any sense. Why would Eleanor have left the candles in our house? What does she gain by it?’
Unable to sit still, I jump up. ‘Because she wants to shut me up about what I saw? She knows who that woman is, Leo. It’s the only thing that makes sense.’
Leo falls silent. I wish I could erase the pained look on his face, to see him smile again. ‘Ria . . .’
‘I know I sound paranoid. I can see that. And that’s what she’s counting on.’
‘But didn’t Eleanor beg you not to tell anyone about her and Giles? Why would she do that if she wanted you to tell him so she could make you look unhinged?’
This is what’s been eluding me since I left Eleanor’s house.
‘I don’t know. It was weird. She just started opening up to me.
’ I sit down, lean my head back against the chair.
‘Maybe it’s not a lie. Think about it – I saw her leaving Giles’s house in the middle of the night.
They must be having an affair. Then she backtracked because Giles wouldn’t want anyone to know. They covered for each other.’
‘Even if they are having an affair,’ Leo says, letting out a deep whistle from the side of his mouth, ‘that’s not our business, is it? And it’s got nothing to do with anyone breaking into our house.’
‘You just don’t want to see it, do you? You’re so blinded by this place, Leo. Anything could happen and you’d find a way to excuse it.’ My cheeks burn. We rarely argue, but right now I can’t find a way past this. He doesn’t believe anything I’m telling him.
‘That’s not fair! This is a perfectly normal neighbourhood.
No one’s conspiring against you – I wish you could see that.
None of this is real, Ria! I’m sorry, but it’s not.
’ He throws his head back. ‘Are you doing this so we have to leave? Is that what this is all about?’ He closes his eyes.
‘I think I’d rather believe it’s because of what happened at the flat.
You know how much Silverleaf means to me.
And I told you, I’m not going anywhere. This is our home. ’
Your home. ‘None of those things are the reasons I’m saying all this,’ I say. ‘I wouldn’t do that to you, Leo. Something’s going on here, and we need to stick together, not fall apart. Everything I’ve told you is the truth.’
He sighs, and with it I know we won’t be in this together.
‘I need to speak to Ethan,’ he says, jumping up and disappearing inside.
I don’t follow him; Ethan would have contacted me if he had news about my scan results, and it will be me he has to tell, not Leo.
I’ve got nothing to hide, though; I know I haven’t imagined any of this.
Through the bifold doors, I see Leo holding one of the candles, studying it as he speaks on his phone. I pick up my old phone and message Johnny, thanking him for what he’s doing. It was only yesterday that he agreed to help me, but I ask how it’s going with tracing the video.
To my surprise, he starts replying straight away, confirming what I already know: there is no news yet. I have to believe that Johnny will come through for me – and then I’ll have proof that all of this is real.
Leo comes back out and hands me his phone. ‘Ethan wants to talk to you,’ he says.
I hesitate before taking it; I’ve been so convinced there’s nothing wrong, I’m not ready to hear that there could be. ‘Hi, Ethan.’ My throat dries up.
‘Ria. Hi. How are you doing?’
‘I’m sure Leo’s told you what happened today.’
He waits a beat. ‘Yeah, he did. I’m sorry.’
I glance at Leo, who hovers by the table, not giving me the privacy he normally would.
‘That woman Eleanor changed her story. Either they’re having an affair and they both lied to cover it up, or they’re not and Eleanor wanted me to confront Giles so she could deny it and make me look unhinged. She wants me out of Silverleaf.’
Leo sighs and folds his arms, but I focus only on what Ethan is saying.
‘Ria, I know I can’t help with any of that, but I have some news. Your MRI came back normal. There are no signs of structural damage – that means no scarring, bleeding or tumours that might explain what you’re experiencing.’
I exhale, letting out all the tension that my body has been holding on to. ‘I knew it,’ I say, banging my fist on the table. I don’t look at Leo; from my response, he’ll know what Ethan’s saying.
‘Now, hold on. A clear scan doesn’t mean there’s nothing happening, even if everything looks structurally intact. Traumatic brain injuries can cause long-term changes with how your brain processes things. Like information, emotions and perception. And these changes don’t always show up on a scan.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I just mean sometimes the brain can rewire itself in unexpected ways after an injury. So we can’t rule anything out completely.’
I glance at Leo, who’s watching me intently.
‘But a clear scan was what I wanted to see,’ Ethan continues. ‘Just keep a note of anything unusual and I’ll see you again in a few weeks. I’ll get my secretary to send you an appointment.’
‘Okay. Thanks. I’ll hand you back to Leo.’
I give Leo his phone and go into the house so he can finish talking to Ethan without me listening.
I feel validated, despite Ethan advising that the scan might not have picked up everything, but my jubilation is short-lived when I realise that my scan results won’t change anything; they won’t matter to the neighbours.
Whoever is trying to frame how I’m seen won’t let the truth stop them.
It’s another five minutes before Leo comes inside. He gives me a hug then sits at the table and opens his laptop. ‘I’m glad your scan was clear,’ he says while he waits for it to load.
‘Shall I make moussaka for dinner?’ I say, even though I have no appetite. ‘We haven’t had that for ages.’ I busy myself loading the dishwasher, rearranging things inside that don’t need to be moved.
‘Okay,’ he says, not looking up. ‘Sorry. I’d help, but I need to finalise my notes for the conference.’
I never thought for one second I’d ever dread Leo going away, that I’d have any kind of problem being here alone. When he’d first mentioned it, I’d even looked forward to having some time alone. Now the thought of it fills me with cold dread.
Even though I’m distracted with cooking, with no warning, I’m overcome with sadness for Willow. If it was Eleanor who poisoned her, then I need to find evidence. What is she trying to hide?
Leo taps on his keyboard, typing furiously while I muster the energy to carry on with preparing dinner.
When it’s ready and Leo has put away his laptop, I try to talk about anything other than what’s been happening, but this only seems to put Leo on edge, so I change tack.
‘Are we going to talk about what’s happening?
’ I say. ‘This is affecting our marriage, Leo, even if you won’t come out and say it.
My scan was fine. I’m not losing my mind.
Which means I’m right that someone is targeting me. ’
He looks up, placing his knife and fork together, even though his plate is still full. ‘There still could be—’
‘Please don’t!’ The volume of my voice takes even me by surprise. ‘It’s like you want there to be something wrong with me. You can’t for one second entertain the idea that the problem is this place, not me!’
Without responding, Leo stands and picks up his plate, taking it to the food bin and scraping his dinner into it. He’s never done anything like that before, and I’m too stunned to react. All I can do is watch him.
‘I was going to get an Uber to the airport tomorrow morning,’ he says, ‘but Rufus has kindly offered to drop me on his way to work. He said he’s happy to take a detour.’
‘No – I can take you. Tell Rufus you don’t need a lift.’
Doubt flickers across Leo’s eyes, and it makes me ache to think that he’s even thinking of taking a lift from a neighbour instead of his wife.
‘Okay,’ he says finally. ‘I’ll let him know.’
Leo takes his time coming to bed. I imagine he’s fretting about all the talks he has to give in New York. Despite how far he’s come in his career, how skilled a surgeon he is, speaking in public is far from his comfort zone.
Yet I know it’s more than that keeping him downstairs. I try to lose myself in my book, a book that if I closed my eyes I wouldn’t be able to recall the title of, or the author. And I’ve barely registered what’s happening in it.
It’s midnight before he quietly slides under the covers, assuming I’m asleep. I’m surprised when his arm reaches over me and he presses against me. I open my mouth to tell him I’m awake, but before I can speak, he pulls back and turns over. And the moment is extinguished.
When I wake in the morning, I realise that I’ve slept through the night again, just like I did the night Willow was here. I smile. Perhaps I’m turning a corner. And when I turn over to tell Leo, he’s already up and dressed, in jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt.
‘I slept through,’ I say, pulling myself up and hugging my knees to my chest. ‘It’s the first time in ages.’
‘That’s good,’ Leo says, zipping his suitcase without looking up.
‘Are we okay, Leo? I know the last week has been rough, but we don’t have to let this destroy us.’
He gives a vague nod.
‘We won’t see each other for five days. Don’t let the last morning be like this.’
He looks up, and there’s sadness clouding his eyes. He sits on the bed, and leans forward to give me a kiss. ‘I don’t want it to be like this,’ he says, pushing my hair from my face. ‘I want us to be us again.’
‘And we can. You just have to trust me. Believe in me.’
He nestles his head against my chest. ‘I just don’t know what to make of it—’
‘Shhh. Don’t talk.’ This time it’s me who kisses him, desperate to find him again.
We try to lose ourselves in each other, but on my part it’s hard.
Even with my eyes closed, it’s a fight to force out thoughts of Silverleaf and all the things that have happened.
Eleanor. Giles. Willow. The warnings I’ve been sent.
Afterwards, Leo holds me for a moment, then pulls away. ‘We’d better get going. Traffic won’t be good at this time.’
I grab his arm. ‘We’ll be okay. I’ll deal with all this. Don’t think about it when you’re away – just focus on your seminars.’
His mouth twists and he chews his lip. ‘I’ll try. And maybe a break away from each other will do us good. Time to gather our thoughts on our own.’
‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘But I promise you we’ll get through this, Leo.’
He nods, and gets up. ‘I’ll see you downstairs.’
In the car on the way to the airport, Leo is quiet again, but I don’t push him. While we navigate morning-rush-hour traffic, I silently vow that by the time he comes back, I will have the proof I need to convince him that we need to leave Silverleaf. That gives me five days.
‘My hay fever’s awful this morning,’ Leo says as we’re approaching the airport. ‘Do you have any tissues?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I say. ‘I didn’t bring my bag with me.’
‘Maybe in here,’ he says, opening the glove compartment.
I indicate and pull into the left lane, heading towards Heathrow.
‘Your phone,’ Leo says. ‘It was here all along.’ He pulls out a phone and stares at it.
I quickly glance at it, and beads of sweat gather on my chest. That’s not my phone. Johnny has it – I gave it to him myself.
‘It’s not yours,’ Leo says, before I can respond. He turns it over, carefully examining it. ‘It’s a Samsung, not an iPhone.’
He pulls out his own phone and dials a number I can only guess is mine. ‘Definitely not yours,’ he says. ‘Yours has gone to voicemail.’
‘I’ve never seen that phone before. How would it have got in my car?’
Leo stares at me, then at the phone. ‘Pull over,’ he says.
‘What? I can’t just—’
‘Ria – just pull over now!’
I swerve into a lay-by and turn to him. ‘Leo, you need to get to the airport. What are you—’
‘I need you to do something, Ria. Read me out the phone number that video came from. The one of you being . . . killed.’ He forces the word out, even though we both know it wasn’t real.
‘What? Why?’
‘Please, Ria. Just do it.’ His skin has paled, and he edges closer to the passenger door, further away from me.
‘Okay.’ I grab my phone and scroll to the WhatsApp message, reading out the digits so Leo can tap them into his phone.
Nothing will happen. I know it. That number was disconnected as soon as the video was deleted. I rest my head back and wait.
But the phone springs to life, its shrill tone piercing my ears. I gape at it, unable to speak.
Leo, too, stares at the phone in his hand, then at me.
‘Ria? What the hell is this? You sent that message to yourself!’