Page 50 of The Woman Who Said Yes

‘Well, I haven’t seen anything.’

‘Haven’t you? It’s a dull, greenish colour so it’s not that easy to spot…’ In the overgrown grass, I want to add.

‘Nope, nothing’s turned up.’

My hands are slippery with sweat and I’m fully expecting her to cut me off. ‘I think Nigel said he might’ve seen it?’

A silence hangs, and I can sense her frowning. ‘So why don’t you ask him?’

‘Oh, I did! He says it was definitely in the garden… under the table maybe? Or somewhere near the fence? He said he saw it… nestling.’ Oh God, what am I saying? If that were the case, why hadn’t he picked it up instead of leaving it lying there? I am almost annoyed at Nigel over this. What a shabby excuse for a friend! But perhaps the woman isn’t fully awake, or she doesn’t care enough to have spotted the gaping holes in my explanation.

‘Well, you can come and have a look if you like,’ she says grudgingly.

‘Really? That’d be great.’ I pause, determined not to blow this. ‘What number are you again?’

This seems to puzzle her. ‘You were here, weren’t you?’

‘Er, yes, but I’d a few,’ I say with a small laugh.

‘Number sixty-five,’ she rattles out.

‘Great. That’s sixty-five⁠—’

‘Storey Avenue,’ she says, clearly tiring of me now.

I swallow hard. ‘Can I pop over today?’

‘If you want. You can let yourself into the garden – just use the back gate. But honestly, I don’t think you’ll find anything⁠—’

‘No, but it’s worth a look,’ I start, about to thank her profusely. But she has already finished the call.

29

‘I can’t believe you were planning to go without me,’ Sam admonishes me as he drives.

‘I’d have been fine,’ I say a little defensively as we cross the flyover. ‘Anyway, I didn’t know if you’d be free. If someone was with you or⁠—’

‘If someone was with me?’ Sam shoots me an exasperated look. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Nothing!’

He exhales. ‘Actually, there was somebody.’

‘Really?’ Well done me, wrecking a lazy Sunday morning with his new girlfriend. Hang on – he’d wanted to come. Insisted, in fact, having called me as soon as he’d played my voice note updating him on the G situation. Okay, not to merely update him, but to also rub in how much info I’d managed to glean in that ninety-second call.

‘Very well done,’ he’d conceded, adding that no way was I going on my own to a house where I didn’t know what I might find. ‘It’s only Chiswick,’ I told him, deliberately missing the point.

‘Stop it,’ he’d said. ‘I’m coming to pick you up, so no arguments.’

Now, as Sam adds, ‘Theo was there,’ I cringe at my own stupidity. ‘Look, if you meant, did Lucy stay over last night? Then, no, she didn’t. It’s nothing like that. Not yet, I mean. No, not yet – I mean not ever, probably.’ He exhales forcefully. ‘I really don’t know! We’re just kind of… well, we’re just⁠—’

‘Sam, please,’ I cut in. ‘You don’t have to explain anything to me.’

‘Well, I kind of feel like I do,’ he says, not unreasonably, and a hush settles over us in his lumbering estate car. I know Theo finds his father’s trusty vehicle deeply uncool and rarely deigns to ride in it. But it’s ideal for delivering large framed artworks, and I’m fond of its unintimidating scruffiness and leathery smell.

‘I’d never want to pry into your love life,’ I say a little sulkily.

A smirk flickers across his lips. ‘Good to know.’