Page 59 of The Soulmate

‘I think you know why I’m here, Pippa. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and explain. My wife Amanda passed away this week. Took her own life, I’m told, by jumping off the cliff behind your house.’

I should act surprised to hear this, I know, but I can’t find it in myself to feign shock.

‘A strange coincidence, don’t you think?’ Max continues. ‘That she chose to jump from that particular cliff?’

Max waits now – a good strategy, because I only last a few seconds before I start talking.

‘She said she’d seen a video.’ Now, finally, I look at him. ‘Why was there a video?’

Max sighs. ‘That was unfortunate. We have CCTV of the entire office, for security reasons. I asked them to turn it on the night you came in because I thought Gabe might end up joining us and I didn’t know what to expect. After . . . what happened . . . I asked security to cut the footage. I didn’t mean for them to send it to me. She found the video on an old laptop.’

It’s probably not that important in the scheme of things; still, I’m glad to have an answer to this question.

‘But while the footage explains why she came here,’ Max went on, ‘it doesn’t explain why she jumped.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I wish I understood the inner workings of a suicidal woman, but I –’

‘That’s the thing,’ he says. ‘Amanda wasn’t suicidal when I last saw her. In fact, in our twenty-five years of marriage, she never seemed suicidal. So, it’s hard for me to accept that, even after discovering this video, she’d suddenly choose to jump off a cliff behind the home of one of my former employees. Surely you can understand why I’m perplexed by this.’

I take a few seconds to consider this. ‘Well,’ I say, ‘I guess the video must have affected her more than you think. And The Drop is a well-known suicide place.’

‘That’s true,’ Max says. ‘But I’ve since discovered that Gabe didn’t tell the police he knew Amanda. If this truly was a coincidence, why would he conceal that?’

He fixes me in his gaze. I understand his intention is to intimidate me. It works breathtakingly well.

‘I just want to know what happened to my wife, Pippa.’ There’s the tiniest quaver in his voice here. I notice, suddenly, that he looks thinner and paler than the last time I saw him.

‘Mummy,’ Asha says, ‘do I still have to get my superheroes?’

‘Yes, baby,’ I say, taking her hand. To Max, I say, ‘I’m sorry, I need to go. We have vaccinations. I wish I could help . . .’

‘You can,’ he says. ‘I’d like you to ask Gabe to call me.’

His hands are tucked into the pockets of his chinos, but he draws one out, holding a business card between his fingers. It reminds me of the last time he did this, all those years ago. ‘Give him my card.’

I take it. Nod. What else can I do?

‘I’m staying down here for a few days,’ he calls over his shoulder as he walks away. ‘Maybe longer. Depends how long it takes to get to the bottom of things. Tell Gabe I look forward to hearing from him.’

I remain where I am until he disappears around the corner.Amanda wasn’t suicidal. Max is wrong about that; Amandamusthave been suicidal. Because if she wasn’t . . . what had my husband done?

‘Pip!’ Seconds after Max disappears down the street, Gabe and the receptionist join me. ‘I was wondering where you two had got to.’ To Asha he says, ‘Come on, poppet, the nurse is waiting. The sooner it’s done, the sooner you can have ice cream.’

The receptionist takes Asha by the hand and leads her back to the health centre, distracting her with a discussion on the relative merits of vanilla and chocolate.

‘I saw Max,’ I say to Gabe.

‘What?’ He stares at me. ‘Just now?’

I nod. ‘He said Amanda wasn’t suicidal.’

I watch Gabe’s forehead crease as he takes that in. ‘Well,’ he says after a beat, ‘we have evidence to the contrary.’

I hand him Max’s card. ‘He wants you to call him.’

‘I bet he does.’

‘He knows you didn’t tell the police that you knew Amanda. So, he has that over us.’