Behind Closed Doors: The gripping psychological thriller everyone is raving about. B Paris A

712,’ she says.

      ‘Oh yes—07517129146. Did you get that, Jack?’

      ‘Yes, it’s fine. Right, anyone for coffee?’

      But we don’t bother, because Diane has to get back to work and Esther doesn’t want any. Jack asks for the bill and Diane and Esther disappear off to the toilet. I would like to go too, but I don’t bother following them. The bill paid, Jack and I take leave of the others and walk towards the car park.

      ‘Well, did you enjoy that, my perfect little wife?’ Jack asks, opening the car door for me.

      I recognise one of his million-dollar questions. ‘Not really.’

      ‘Not even the dessert you were so looking forward to?’

      I swallow hard. ‘Not as much as I thought I would.’

      ‘It’s lucky Esther was able to help you out then, wasn’t it?’

      ‘I would have eaten it anyway,’ I tell him.

      ‘And deprived me of so much pleasure?’

      A tremor goes through my body. ‘Absolutely.’

      He raises his eyebrows. ‘Do I detect a renewal of your fighting spirit? I’m so glad. To tell the truth, I’ve been getting quite bored.’ He gives me an amused glance. ‘Bring it on, Grace—I’m waiting for you.’

      PAST

      That evening, the evening of my wedding day, when I stepped into the bedroom after my bath, I was dismayed to find it empty. Presuming that Jack had gone off to make a phone call, I felt irritated that something could be more important to him on our wedding day than me. But my irritation quickly turned to anxiety when I remembered that Millie was in hospital and in the space of a couple of seconds I managed to convince myself that something terrible had happened to her, that Mum had phoned Jack to tell him, and that he had left the room because he didn’t want me to hear their conversation.

      I ran to the bedroom door and flung it open, expecting to see Jack pacing up and down the corridor, trying to work out how to break some tragic news to me. But it was empty. Guessing he had gone down to the lobby and not wanting to waste time going to find him, I searched through my luggage, which had been dropped off at the hotel by the chauffeur, dug out my phone and rang Mum’s mobile. As I waited to be connected, it occurred to me that if she was talking to Jack, I wouldn’t be able to get through to her anyway. I was about to hang up and call Dad’s mobile instead when I heard her phone ringing and, soon after, her voice.

      ‘Mum, what’s happened?’ I cried before she’d even finished saying hello. ‘Has there been a complication or something?’

      ‘No, everything’s fine.’ Mum sounded surprised.

      ‘So Millie’s all right?’

      ‘Yes, she’s sound asleep.’ She paused. ‘Are you all right? You sound agitated.’

      I sat down on the bed, weak with relief. ‘Jack’s disappeared so I thought that maybe you’d phoned with bad news and that he’d gone to talk to you in private,’ I explained.

      ‘What do you mean, “disappeared”?’

      ‘Well, he’s not in the room. I went into the bathroom to have a bath and when I came out he was gone.’

      ‘He’s probably gone down to the reception for something. I’m sure he’ll be back in a minute. How did the wedding go?’

      ‘Fine, really well, considering that I couldn’t stop thinking about Millie. I hated that she wasn’t there. She’s going to be so disappointed when she realises that we went ahead and got married without her.’

      ‘I’m sure she’ll understand,’ Mum soothed, and I felt furious at how little she knew Millie, because of course she wouldn’t understand. I was appalled to find I was near to tears, but after all that had happened, Jack’s disappearing act was the last straw. Telling Mum that I would see her at the hospital the next morning, I asked her to give Millie a kiss for me and hung up.

      As I dialled Jack’s mobile, I told myself to calm down. We had never rowed before and shouting at him down the phone like a fishwife wouldn’t achieve anything. Something had obviously come up with one of his clients, a last-minute problem that he needed to sort out before we left for Thailand. He would be just as annoyed at being disturbed on his wedding day as I was.

      I was relieved when I heard his phone ringing, relieved that he wasn’t on the phone to someone, hoping it meant that the problem—whatever it was—had been sorted. When he didn’t pick up I stifled a cry of frustration and left a message on his voicemail.

      ‘Jack, where on earth are you? Could you phone me back, please?’

      I hung up and began to pace the room restlessly, wondering where he had gone. My eyes fell on the clock on the bedside table and I saw that it was nine o’clock. I tried to imagine why Jack hadn’t answered his phone, why he hadn’t been able to take my call and wondered if one of the other partners had come to the hotel to talk to him. When another ten minutes had gone by, I dialled his number again. This time it went straight through to his voicemail.

      ‘Jack, please phone me back,’ I said sharply, knowing he must have turned his mobile off after my last call. ‘I need to know where you are.’

      I heaved my suitcase onto the bed, opened it and took out the beige trousers and shirt I planned to wear for travelling the following day. Pulling them on over my camisole and knickers, I dressed quickly, put the key card into my pocket and left the room, taking my telephone with me. Too agitated to wait for the lift, I took the stairs down to the lobby and headed for the reception desk.

      ‘Mrs Angel, isn’t it?’ The young man behind the desk smiled at me. ‘How can I help you?’

      ‘Actually, I’m looking for my husband. Have you seen him anywhere?’

      ‘Yes, he came down about an hour ago, not long after you checked in.’

      ‘Do you know where he went? Did he go to the bar, by any chance?’

      He shook his head. ‘He went out through the front doors. I presumed he was going to fetch something from the car.’

      ‘Did you see him come back in?’

      ‘Now that you mention it, no, I didn’t. But I was busy checking in another client at one point, so it could be that I didn’t see him.’ He eyed the phone in my hand. ‘Have you tried phoning him?’

      ‘Yes, but his mobile’s switched off. He’s probably in the bar, drowning his sorrows that he’s now a married man.’ I smiled, trying to make light of it. ‘I’ll go and have a look.’

      I made my way to the bar but there was no sign of Jack. I checked the various lounges, the fitness room and the swimming pool. On the way to check the two restaurants, I left another message on his voicemail, my voice breaking with anxiety.

      ‘No luck?’ The receptionist gave me a sympathetic look as I arrived back in the lobby on my own.

      I shook my head. ‘I’m afraid I can’t find him anywhere.’

      ‘Have you looked if your car is still in the car park? At least you’d know whether or not he’d left the hotel.’

      I went out through the front doors and followed the path round to the car park at the back of the hotel. The car wasn’t where Jack had left it nor was it anywhere else. Not wanting to go back through the lobby and face the receptionist again, I went in through the back door and ran up the stairs to the bedroom, praying that I would find Jack already there, that he would have arrived back while I’d been out looking for him. When I found the bedroom empty, I burst into tears of frustration. I told myself that the fact the car was missing went someway to explaining why he hadn’t answered his phone, because he never answered his phone while he was driving. But if he’d had to go back to the office on urgent business,