Losing You by Nicci French

– she had to pack her things. It’s not just that. She organized a surprise party for me this morning but she didn’t turn up at it. Why would that be? Something’s happened.’
    ‘She’s probably been held up.’
    ‘Of course she’s been held up,’ I said. ‘The question is, what has held her up? What if it’s something serious?’
    We were locked in a battle of wills. I didn’t know who this woman was. Was she a policewoman? Was she a receptionist? I could tell she wanted me to go away and wait for the problem to sort itself out. But I wasn’t going to go away. I stayed on the line, argued and insisted, and finally she asked me to wait. She had her hand over the receiver and I heard her muffled voice asking somebody something. When she came back on the line, she told me that an officer would drop round to see what was happening.
    ‘Soon,’ I said. ‘If anything has happened to Charlie it’s urgent. Time is very important.’
    I only ended the conversation when the woman had agreed that the officer would be with me in a few minutes. Now I had to wait for the police to arrive. What did I do in the meantime? I couldn’t just stand there. I had to finish my packing. I could throw out the last of my so-called guests. No. All that could wait. Charlie was all that mattered. Was there anything productive I could do before the police came?
    I opened the door. A teenager I didn’t recognize was opening my fridge. She looked round at me unconcernedly.
    ‘The newsagent on The Street,’ I said. ‘Do you know what it’s called?’
    She paused, a carton of orange juice in her hand. ‘Walton’s,’ she said, and poured juice into a glass.
    I found the name in the phone book and rang it. ‘Hello,’ I said, when a woman answered. ‘Mrs Walton?’
    ‘No,’ said the woman.
    ‘But this is Walton’s?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘My name is Nina Landry. I’m Charlotte’s mother. Did she do her paper round this morning?’
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘Didn’t you see her?’
    ‘Gerry,’ the woman shouted, ‘who did the papers this morning?’
    I heard a voice say something I couldn’t make out.
    ‘Yes,’ said the woman. ‘She did them.’
    ‘What time did she get there?’
    ‘That was before I arrive. Probably between nine and nine thirty. That’s when she usually comes.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    I rang off. Was this good or bad news? She had been around, but that was hours ago. Suddenly it became clear. My soon-to-be-ex-husband. I dialled his number. A woman answered.
    ‘Hello, is Rory there?’
    ‘Who’s this?’
    ‘I’m sorry, who are you?’
    ‘You first.’
    ‘I’m Nina.’ There was a pause. Further explanation was called for. ‘His ex-partner.’
    ‘Yes, Nina. I know all about you. I’m Tina.’
    Tina. At his flat. Answering his phone. Knowing all about me. I hadn’t heard anything about a Tina. Where had she come from? When? I grimaced into the phone, happier to know that Rory had found someone else as well and also feeling strange that both of us had moved on so quickly. How could so many years of marriage just disappear?
    ‘Is Rory there?’
    ‘He’s out.’
    Tina seemed to want to talk but I rang off immediately and dialled Rory’s mobile.
    ‘Hi, Nina,’ he said.
    ‘Rory, is there something I should know?’
    ‘I think there’s rather a lot you should know. Is there anything particular you had in mind?’
    I steadied myself. For a long time, all conversations with Rory had been like teetering on the edge of a steep hill. One careless step and we would tumble into an increasingly bitter argument.
    ‘You were talking about seeing Charlie earlier.’
    ‘I was talking about seeing the children, about missing the children.’
    ‘That’s what I meant.’
    ‘Are you ringing to apologize?’ he asked.
    ‘What about?’ I said, regretting the words as soon as I had spoken them.
    ‘I don’t think we should go into that. All I want to say is that I know we’ve got our differences, but