‘I know, but it’s set up like one. Apparently, Otis Clarke is some big tech hotshot, which means Otis and Alexa are rich. As in, richer than anyone we’ve ever met. Also known as the perfect victims for extortion.’
Setting down my knife, I fight the urge to roll my eyes. ‘In the space of a minute, we’ve gone from Alexa being missing to her being killed to being kidnapped and held for ransom.’
‘Rich people are famous for doing dodgy stuff to get richer. Who knows what gambles the husband has taken? Maybe he didn’t expect one of them to be with his wife’s life.’
‘That’s a tad dramatic.’
‘Maybe, but it’s all so mysterious. Otis Clarke didn’t go to the police but went to the neighbours. That’s weird. I’m not sure I’d be as chilled as him if I were in his shoes. No good can come from someone disappearing on you. We both know that.’
The kitchen falls into a stunned silence as Kamal registers his words. He freezes, realising the error of what he said. The at-ease mood we’ve fostered teeters on the brink. I’m seconds away from destroying it altogether by storming out of the room, but Kamal saves the night by clearing his throat.
‘All I’m saying is, a woman hasn’t been seen in days. Her husband seems concerned but not concerned enough. So, I thought I’d ask the expert regarding mysteries like this and see what she thought.’
Swallowing my humiliation, I force myself to reply. ‘The expert?’
‘You’re a thriller author. You know twists and lies and people’s dark sides better than most. So, tell me, what’s your theory?’
Picking up my knife once more, I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Come on,’ Kamal teases, the sound of our chopping rhythmical in the quiet of the kitchen. ‘From what your friends said, does Otis Clarke seem like a good guy? Does Alexa Clarke seem like the type to leave her husband?’
‘I don’t know. They’ve never really spoken to her.’
‘Ah, someone else in Bramblethorpe who keeps to themself,’ Kamal jokes, but the comparison between me and Alexa punches me in the gut. ‘Well, if she has left Otis, I’m sure everyone will be ready to share their theories as to why.’
Selecting another mushroom from the box, I thumb a grey-brown dent in the side of it.
‘It’s sad to imagine that Alexa might have run away, don’t you think?’ I say. ‘To think that however tough things were for her, she felt like her only option was to disappear.’
‘If she left, we don’t know that it’s because things were tough. She could have been having an illicit affair or been offered the job of her dreams.’
‘I don’t think that’s the reason she’s gone.’
‘Oh yeah? What makes you say that?’
‘I don’t know,’ I reply, but I do know. It’s the same reason I stay in this house, dodging invitations from friends and calls from family. It’s the same reason Kamal worries about me, and the same reason I was prescribed those pills.
‘Please,’ Kamal begs lightly. ‘Switch on your creative brain and tell me your theory. I’m dying to hear it.’
‘I don’t have a—’
‘Janine Rai, usually you can overhear a snippet of an entirely innocent conversation and come up with the most twisted story. I know you have a theory on this.’
The truth bursts from me, if only to make Kamal stop talking about how easy stories came to me once upon a time.
‘They lost four babies,’ I blurt.
The suddenness and horribleness of my words combine to create a vacuum that sucks the air from the kitchen. Kamal’s shoulders tense, his hand paused above a bundle of spring onions. My arms ache to hold him, but sadness pins them to my sides.
‘I think she lost four babies and couldn’t take the pain anymore,’ I whisper.
Kamal pauses before slowly pressing his knife into the onions. ‘That’s… that’s terrible for them.’
I nod, fighting back tears before Kamal sees them, but of course he notices I’m upset. He notices everything; that’s why his worry never switches off.
As my husband moves towards me, I back away from his sympathy.
‘I’m fine,’ I say, more abruptly than I mean to. Kamal flinches, and the guilt I was already feeling doubles. Choking on it, I leave the room because leaving is easier than facing it.