We spend the next ten minutes peering into all the rooms. There’s a photography exhibition on, but it’s empty, as most people are out enjoying the sunshine.
Back outside, we walk down past the castle, past the stone globe, and onto the cliff path. It’s fresher up here, a warm sea breeze ruffling my shirt and pulling at my hair. I can’t help peering over the wall, down the cliffside at the silvery foam swirling against the rocks.
‘They’ll be fine,’ Tom keeps saying. ‘Don’t worry.’ But he has this tight look in his eyes, like he doesn’t really believe that. And I’m not sure how long I can keep myself together. How long I can keep pretending that everything’s okay. As we walk along the cliff path where Jake and Dylan came earlier this morning, I’m on the verge of losing it. I dig my fingernails into my palms and breathe deeply, willing myself not to have a panic attack. I try to pretend we’re just out for an afternoon walk. But my legs are shaky and my brain feels as though it’s floating free in my skull.
‘Do you want to sit down for a minute?’ Tom asks, drawing me to the side of the path so another couple can pass. ‘You don’t look well, Faye. You should have stayed at home. I can drop you back. I’ll come and look for them on my own.’
‘No, I’m fine. Maybe… just… have you got any water?’
Tom reaches into his bag and pulls out a metal flask. He unscrews the top and passes it to me. I take a few sips of the cool liquid and feel my head clear a little, the world coming back into focus. I press the cold metal to my forehead.
‘Better?’
I nod and hand him back the flask.
‘Look, the dolphin-watch hut is up there. Let’s go and have a look. You can sit inside for a bit. Get some shade.’
I glance up at the plain-looking wooden structure set up above the path, with its two viewing windows. I wonder if Jake and Dylan were in there earlier, peering out, gazing at the ocean below.
We shuffle inside. My eyes take a few moments to adjust to the gloom. It actually feels hotter in here than outside. My nose and throat clog with the musty scent of wood and dust.
‘Look!’ Tom cries, pointing at a clipboard on one of the ledges.
I peer down and see it’s a record of marine sightings. The second-to-last entry is in Jake’s handwriting:
23/8 – 6.45 – Two groups in the bay. One dolphin jumping – Dylan Townsend (age 7)
‘They were here,’ Tom says. ‘And they saw dolphins.’
‘But that was hours ago.’ Suddenly my legs can’t take my weight and I squat down on the floor, using my hands to help me balance. Tom goes all serious and paramedic-ish, reaching for his bag. But I put out a hand to stop him. ‘I’ll be fine. Just give me a moment.’
‘Nice slow breaths,’ he says, crouching down in front of me. ‘You’re having a bit of a panic attack, but it will pass.’
‘I just… it’s just…’
‘Shhh. Nice steady breaths. Don’t talk for a moment. Everything’s going to be okay.’
I do as he says and breathe in and out, slowly, trying not to let my imagination race away.
‘Now,’ he says, ‘I’m going to suggest that you stay here while I have a scout along the cliff path.’ I shake my head but he holds out his hand to stop my silent protest. ‘Faye, it’ll be quicker if I go on my own. I won’t be long, okay?’
‘What if something’s happened to them? What if they’re in trouble? If they’ve fallen down a cliff?’
‘If I can’t find them, we’ll call the authorities, okay?’
I nod.
Tom gets to his feet and shoulders his bag. As he turns to go, I feel the air leave my lungs and the hut seems to grow darker. It’s as though I’m trapped in one of my night terrors. I don’t want him to leave me here on my own, so I manage to suck in a lungful of air. To pull myself together and stop the darkness from taking hold.
‘Wait!’ I cry.
He stops and turns. His broad frame silhouetted in the doorway.
I stand up shakily and force my voice to sound normal. ‘I feel much better. I’m coming with you.’
‘Faye—’
‘Honestly, I’m okay.’ To prove my point, I walk past him and stride back down to the path, squinting at the brightness, pushing all panicky thoughts from my mind.
We walk the rest of the path together, peering up the hillside and down the cliffside, looking for any sign of them. I still don’t feel a hundred per cent, but I’m determined to continue the search with Tom.
‘Something’s happened to them, hasn’t it?’ I say.
‘We don’t know that. And even if it has, it might not be something terrible. Maybe Jake’s sprained his ankle or something. There could be any number of harmless reasons.’
‘But we’re almost at the lighthouse and they’re not here.’
‘Maybe they’re having a picnic up there and lost track of time.’
‘But Jake wanted to go back to London today. He would’ve come back by now. He would have wanted to get on the road.’
‘Let’s try to stay calm until we’ve at least had a look, yeah?’ Tom takes my hand to help me over some loose rocks.
‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise. I’d be exactly the same if it were Lainy and the girls.’
‘Somehow I doubt that,’ I say. ‘I can’t imagine you having panic attacks and wobbly legs.’
‘I’ll have you know my legs can be extremely wobbly in the right circumstances.’
I muster a wry smile. ‘Good to know.’
Tom stops walking for a moment and turns to me. ‘We will find them, you know.’
‘I know there has to be a reasonable explanation for their disappearance, but I can’t help thinking the worst.’
‘Of course. But it’s only been a few hours.’
‘This was supposed to be a lovely family holiday. A wonderful birthday surprise.’ I give a bitter laugh. ‘But so far, it’s been a disaster.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’ Tom sits on a boulder and looks up at me.
‘I can’t help blaming myself for bringing everyone here. I know Jake’s always been wary of surprises, but I really did think he would have loved to revisit his childhood home. Was that naive of me?’
Tom shakes his head. ‘You can’t blame yourself. It wasn’t just you who thought it was a good idea. I agreed with you. And anyway, it’s been okay. We’ve had a couple of nice days out, a pub dinner, a visit to a gallery. And let’s not forget Punch and Judy.’ He grins.
I give Tom a look. ‘Actually, if I’m honest, I find it a bit odd that Jake never wants to talk about his childhood. Maybe I came here for selfish reasons. To find out more about him.’
‘I know what you mean. Lainy’s the same. Whenever I mention things from my childhood, she listens, but never really reciprocates. She always says, what’s the point of focusing on the past? I just thought she was being very Zen and living in the moment. Maybe there’s more to it than that.’
‘You don’t think…’ I shake my head. ‘No.’
‘What?’ Tom prompts.
‘No. Nothing.’
‘Go on. What were you going to say?’
‘Well…’ I sit precariously on a jagged rock. ‘You don’t think he’s stayed out on purpose because he’s annoyed with me? To… I don’t know… make a point or something?’
‘That would be a very childish and irresponsible thing to do,’ Tom says. ‘And I don’t think Jake’s like that, is he?’
‘No. You’re right. It’s probably just my brain making stupid assumptions.’
‘Like I said before, I think the most likely thing is that one of them has hurt an ankle or something and they’re waiting for help.’ Tom stands. ‘The best thing is for us to keep looking. And if we can’t find them, we’ll call for help.’
‘You mean the police?’
‘Let’s not think about that yet. Come on, the quicker we find them the quicker we can all relax.’
Finally, we reach the
grassy headland and the walled lighthouse. There are a few families and couples dotted about having picnics or just enjoying the view, but no sign of Jake or Dylan.
‘Have you got any photos of them on your phone?’ Tom asks.
My screensaver is a picture of the three of us in a restaurant. It was taken last Christmas, so isn’t that old. I pass him the phone and we walk over to a young family who are sitting on a rug, their kids looking down at their phone screens.
‘Excuse me,’ Tom says.
The woman looks up with a smile and shades her eyes. The man nods warily.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen this man and child up here today, have you?’
The woman takes the phone and has a closer look, showing it to the man.
‘Dylan would have been wearing a red baseball cap,’ I say. ‘That’s my son. He’s seven.’
‘Have you lost them?’ the woman asks, getting to her feet. ‘Kids, have you seen this lady’s son?’
I blink a few times and take a breath. ‘My husband and son came up here this morning, to look for dolphins. But they haven’t come home yet and my husband isn’t answering his phone.’ As I say the words, I start understanding how serious this is. And how this might be about to turn into something life-changing. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to deal with it. But I have to be. I can’t fall apart now.
Thirteen
It’s 5 p.m. – around the time we had arranged to leave Swanage to drive back home to London. Instead, Tom and I get out of his car on the narrow, unassuming road where Swanage Police Station is situated. The air is still warm, but the sun has lost its intensity now, dipping out of sight behind the buildings.
‘We should have called the police hours ago.’ As I say the words, I understand that it’s too long for my family to have been out of contact. Too long to assume that everything is okay with them.
I stare across the road at the stone building. You wouldn’t even realise it was a police station if you didn’t know. Apart from the blue metal hand railings outside, it looks like nothing more than a characterful stone house. Following Tom across the road, I feel dishevelled and sweaty. My mouth is sour and dry, my head thumping. I want to go home. And not to our holiday home, but back to London. At this moment, I wish we’d never come to this pretty seaside town. I wish my plans had stayed unplanned. As I follow Tom up the gentle slope, my heart thumps painfully and my left leg trembles.
‘It’ll be okay,’ Tom says as I hesitate outside the door. ‘The sooner we report this, the sooner they’ll be able to locate them.’
I nod, not trusting myself to speak right at this moment.
Tom has already phoned Lainy to let her know what’s going on. To tell her that we’ll be home later than planned. I wonder what she’s thinking right now. As well as being my husband, Jake is also her brother. This must be equally upsetting for her. My stomach lurches at all the what-ifs going through my mind, but I have to trust that everything will be all right. I can’t let my overactive imagination take over. Imagination is an artist’s blessing but a mother’s curse.
We walk straight up to the front desk, where a youngish desk officer with sandy hair looks up and gives us a professional smile.
‘Afternoon,’ he says. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I’d like to report two missing people,’ I say, my voice remarkably calm. ‘My husband and my son.’
‘Okay. Can I take your name?’
‘Faye. Faye Townsend.’
‘Thanks.’ He picks up a pen and starts writing on the pad in front of him. ‘How long have they been missing for?’
‘They went up to Durlston Head at six this morning. So, it’s been eleven hours.’
‘How old is your son?’ he asks.
‘He’s only seven. My husband isn’t answering his phone. It’s not like him. I think… I think something must have happened to them.’ My voice cracks and the officer gives me a sympathetic look. He must have to use that expression a lot in his line of work.
‘We went to look for them this afternoon,’ Tom adds. ‘Up along the cliffs. And we asked around if anyone had seen them. But there was no sign. We’re here on holiday.’
‘And you are?’
‘My name’s Tom Ellis. I’m the brother-in-law.’
‘Okay, if you can both take a seat, I’ll see if anyone’s free to take a statement.’
We sit in the waiting area, but Tom stands up again, nodding in the direction of a vending machine. ‘Want anything?’ He puts a hand in his pocket and pulls out a handful of loose change.
I shake my head. ‘Not hungry.’ Although my stomach feels empty, there’s a lump in my throat. I don’t think I’d be able to swallow anything down.
‘A drink?’
‘No thanks.’
Disappointed, he sits back down.
‘You get something, though,’ I urge.
‘No, I’m fine.’
So we wait. And time seems to stretch out like a piece of chewing gum. Taut and thin. Ready to snap. I read the posters on the wall without really taking in what they actually say. And then, finally, my name is called.
I look up to see a slim, dark-haired woman in a light grey suit. I get to my feet. Tom stands with me and we walk over to her.
‘Hi, I’m Detective Sergeant Lisa Nash.’ Her voice is firm with a faint Dorset burr.
Tom sticks out his hand. ‘Hi, I’m Tom Ellis, and this is my sister-in-law Faye Townsend.’
She shakes his hand and then mine. ‘You’re here to report missing persons?’
‘Yes. My husband and son.’
‘Shall we go and sit down, and I can take some details?’
We follow her down a corridor and into a bland room with cream walls and a wooden desk. She sits on one side and we sit on the other and I launch into an explanation of what’s happened while DS Nash listens and takes notes.
‘Can you give me their ages, and a description of what they were wearing? A photo would also be helpful.’
‘Dylan’s seven and Jake’s thirty-four. It was Jake’s birthday yesterday,’ I add. ‘I’m not sure what they were wearing because they left before I woke up this morning. But probably jeans and T-shirts. I’ll check when I get back to the house, if that’s okay? But Dylan would have been wearing his red baseball cap.’
‘That’s fine. The sooner you can get me those clothing descriptions the better.’
‘I have some photos on my phone.’
She slides a card across the table. ‘If you text them to this number that would be great.’
I pull out my mobile, scrolling through my photos until I find a clear, recent shot of Dylan.
‘Are either of them on any medication?’ she asks.
‘What?’ I look up from my phone screen. ‘No. No medication.’
‘Does your husband suffer from depression? Could he have been drinking?’
I feel Tom’s gaze on me. He’s worried by the implication of her questions. I shake my head quickly. ‘No, no. Nothing like that,’ I reply, typing Nash’s mobile number into my phone and pressing send. Next, I find a photo of Jake and send that one through too. Then I send the screensaver picture of the three of us.
‘Was their trip planned?’ Nash asks. ‘I mean, did you know they were going beforehand, or did they leave you a note?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘There was no note. We knew about it. They arranged it yesterday. A bit of father–son bonding.’
‘And did they give you a time when they’d be home?’
‘Er, no, not as such. But, I mean, it was early morning dolphin watching. We just assumed they’d be back by lunchtime at the latest. Especially as we’d just decided to go home this afternoon.’
‘Decided?’ she asks. ‘Are you going home sooner than planned?’
‘Uh… well, yes, but…’
‘It’s a bit complicated,’ Tom says, coming to my rescue. ‘Faye and I planned this holiday as a surprise for our spouses – they grew up here. But, well, it turns out they wer
en’t wild about being back. Jake was the one who wanted to leave early.’
‘I see.’ DS Nash raises her eyebrows.
‘It’s nothing sinister,’ Tom says. ‘I just think it felt a bit odd for them, coming back after so many years.’
‘I’ve sent you the photos,’ I say, replacing my phone in my bag and sliding Nash’s card into the side pocket.
‘Thank you. Do you have any other children?’ the DS asks.
‘No, just Dylan.’ I clench my hands into fists, trying not to cry.
‘And your husband, is he Dylan’s biological father?’
‘Yes.’
‘Apart from your disagreement over the holiday, have you and he argued about anything recently?’
‘Argued? No. And we didn’t really have a disagreement about the holiday. It was just a birthday surprise that didn’t turn out so well.’
‘Do you have any reason to believe your husband might have taken Dylan deliberately?’
‘Taken him? You mean, as in an abduction? No! Absolutely not.’
‘That’s okay, I just have to ask these questions. Establish what we’re dealing with. Eliminate possibilities.’
‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’ I take a breath. ‘It’s just… this is all so… I can’t get my head around it. I’m freaking out.’
‘Don’t worry, Faye, it’ll be okay.’ Tom briefly rubs my shoulder.
‘So you’re Mrs Townsend’s brother-in-law?’ DC Nash asks Tom. ‘You’re married to Jake’s sister, is that right?’
‘Yes – Lainy.’
‘And where is Lainy now?’
‘She’s back at the holiday home with our two young daughters.’
‘Can I have the address?’
I pull up the details on my phone and pass them across to her.
‘Very nice,’ she says, looking at the website photo. ‘I love those old Victorian terraces.’
‘We’re worried they may have hurt themselves on the cliffs,’ Tom says, bringing her back to the matter in hand.
‘Okay. Yes, you were right to come and report it. We’ll send some officers up there to take a look,’ she says. ‘And I’m also going to alert the coastguard. Jake and Dylan will be easier to spot from the helicopter.’
The Marriage Betrayal Page 6