POLICE
Approximately, Mrs Page?
CP
I don’t know. About eight, I suppose. Andy was still asleep when I left.
POLICE
And you swam for how long?
CP
Twenty minutes, maybe. But I stayed at the lagoon for a bit afterwards. [Pause.] Andy and I had a row last night, over something I said at dinner. It was stupid—
POLICE
This would be when you suggested your stepdaughter, Bella, might be pregnant?
CP
[Pause.] Yes.
POLICE
Why did you think that? [Pause.] Mrs Page?
CP
It was just a stupid misunderstanding.
POLICE
And that’s what you argued about?
CP
Partly.
POLICE
Was this in the hotel, or when you got back to your room?
CP
Back in our room. But that was later on, after Andy got back from the beach.
POLICE
Why did your husband go to the beach?
CP
He went after Louise. She was furious about what I’d said, she stormed out of the hotel, and Andy went to calm her down. But then I heard them shouting on the beach as I was walking back to the Beach House—
POLICE
You heard them shouting? They were arguing?
CP
Sounded like it.
POLICE
Do you know what it was about?
CP
No. They were too far away, I couldn’t hear.
POLICE
So you went back to the Beach House alone?
CP
Yes. Kit was staying up at the main hotel with Louise’s son. I went to bed, but I was still awake when Andy got back.
POLICE
What time would that have been?
CP
About half an hour after me, about midnight.
POLICE
And you say you then had a row with him yourself? What about?
CP
Louise, mainly.
POLICE
Why did you argue about Louise?
CP
[Inaudible.]
POLICE
For the tape, Mrs Page.
CP
Sorry. I said, I told him he needed to be careful. She’s obsessed with Andy, she’s never been able to accept it’s over. [Pause.] Look, I don’t expect you to take my word for it. No one else has. She’s got a police record, you can look it up.
POLICE
Did Louise Page ever threaten your husband, as far as you know?
CP
No, she’s too clever for that. But—
POLICE
If we could just stick to the facts, Mrs Page.
CP
In the end, Andy said he was going to sleep on the sofa. [Pause.] That was the last time I talked to him.
POLICE
I know this must be upsetting for you, but can you tell me what happened when you got back to the Beach House this morning after your swim?
CP
I heard shouting on my way back from the lagoon. I stopped for a minute to try to figure out where it was coming from, and then I realised it was the Beach House—
POLICE
You’re sure?
CP
There wasn’t anywhere else it could have been from. You’ve seen how isolated it is. So I started running, and then I heard screaming. It was really awful. I knew something terrible was happening. When I got there, the door was wide open and I could see Louise just standing there, and Andy was on the floor, and there was blood everywhere.
POLICE
Was your husband still alive?
CP
I don’t know. I tried to get to him, but she came at me with the knife—
POLICE
Mrs Page was holding the knife?
CP
Yes. I tried to get it away from her, and then we both slipped and fell, and I hurt my arm. She was shouting and yelling, and we were both struggling to get it. And then somebody burst into the room, one of the groundsmen, I think, and she let me go.
POLICE
Did you see anyone else at all? Anyone enter or leave the Beach House?
CP
No.
POLICE
Mrs Page, you are aware that Louise Page says it’s you who killed him? She says she heard shouting, and discovered you with the knife.
CP
Well, she would do, wouldn’t she? But why would I kill him?
POLICE
You seem very calm, Mrs Page, if you don’t mind me saying.
CP
Because I knew something like this would happen in the end. [Pause.] Louise always said if she couldn’t have him, no one else would. I guess she meant it, didn’t she?
The day of the party
Chapter 43
Caz
I stand by the sofa, watching Andy sleep. People are always supposed to look defenceless and innocent when they’re asleep, when their guard is down, but all I see is a liar. He’s betrayed me so many times, in so many ways. I’ve always come second to Louise. Second wife, second choice. Always. But that’s not why I’m doing this. I made peace with my place in Andy’s life when I married him. This is about justice. About doing what I should have done years ago, in a different time and in a different place, to a different man.
My mother wasn’t strong enough to do what needed to be done, but I am. I should’ve done it last night, but the commotion my stupid blunder caused knocked my plans off course. I still have some instinct for self-preservation: I’ll go to jail if I have to, but it’s not my first choice. I’ll come under suspicion no matter what; the spouse is the first person the police always suspect. But in this case, there are two of us. All I need to do is create reasonable doubt. My intention had been to do that by acting during a period of time in the evening when no one knew exactly where everyone else was, but thanks to the furore I kicked off, that didn’t happen. So Andy earned another twelve hours of life he didn’t deserve.
He didn’t even speak to me when he finally got back last night. His contempt is more embarrassing than a row would have been. I’ll tell the police we fought; it’ll sound more believable.
It’d be easy to kill him now, while he’s sleeping, but I need to be seen out this morning, to establish a clear window of time when Andy was alone and give myself an alibi. So I make sure I’m remembered going down to the beach. I throw a scarlet linen tunic over the top of my red bikini, and then saunter up the path to the hotel. I wouldn’t normally give the two middle-aged tennis players limbering up for a match the time of day, but this morning I go out of my way to comment on the glorious weather and wish them luck. Two bored waiters straightening chairs on the terrace get the benefit of a wide smile. I can feel their eyes follow me all the way down the wooden steps towards the lagoon.
The tiny beach is surprisingly busy this early in the morning, with a number of swimmers already in the sea. I strip off, and wade out into the lagoon, diving below the surface and swimming underwater until my lungs feel tight. Even in July, the water is cold. Adrenalin courses through me. I’m not a victim anymore. I’m finally taking charge of my own life again, and it feels good.