The Missing Husband: a tense psychological suspense full of twists

by Natasha Boydell

  ‘I’ll see you downstairs. I’ll put the coffee machine on,’ Kate said, before heading to the girls’ bedrooms to make sure they were ready. As soon as he was sure that she was in the kitchen, he grabbed the letter he’d written her and put it on her pillowcase. He figured she wouldn’t see it until later that day, when he was long gone. Just breakfast left, he thought, then I’m out. By the time he got downstairs the children had already left with Rachel. He panicked for a moment, realising that he hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye to them. Jesus Christ, what the hell am I doing?

  Calm down, he told himself, you’ll speak to them really soon. You’re not leaving your children, just your wife. Still, he felt awful about it.

  He helped Kate make breakfast and they worked together in a synchrony that only couples who have been together for years can do. He felt like they were preparing the last supper but he had no interest in savouring the moment. Right now, all he wanted to do was get the hell out of there before he changed his mind. The house now felt like a prison that could trap him at any moment. He ate his toast as quickly as possible while Kate made small talk. She has no idea what’s about to happen, he thought. She thinks it’s just a normal day.

  As soon as he’d finished, he wiped his mouth, stood up, kissed her and prepared to leave. Just a few more steps and out of the front door and he’d be gone. For better or for worse, the decision would be made. He started walking down the hall, his shoes clattering on the tiled floor. The front door was in sight – just five steps, then four and it would be over. He could see the familiar shape of his holdall that he’d put by the front door on his way downstairs, covering it with his coat so it looked less conspicuous. Everything would be better once he was out of the family home, once he saw Claire and she reassured him with her words and kisses. Just a couple of steps to go now.

  ‘Were you ever going to tell me about her? Or were you just going to sneak off like a coward and leave us all behind like discarded toys you no longer want to play with?’

  He stopped dead in his tracks. What did she say? Had he heard her correctly? No, he couldn’t have done, she didn’t know anything. Did she? Fuck, fuck, fuck! His body was frozen but the adrenaline started to course through his body, like a deer that realises it’s been caught. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to turn around and face her but he knew, with a sinking feeling, that he had no choice. Slowly he forced himself to look at her. She was standing in the hallway, looking straight at him with pure hatred on her face. And in that moment he knew for sure that, despite how careful he’d been, somehow she had found out about Claire.

  ‘How did you know?’ It was a terrible opening line but it was the only thing that he could think of to say to her. He had already determined, in the microsecond he had to react, that there was no point in denying it. She clearly knew and pretending otherwise would just be digging himself deeper into a hole. But right now he had no idea what, or how much, she knew. Half of him felt trapped, in that hallway, with no way of escaping the truth that was finally staring him in the face. But he also felt something else – was it relief? He had been living a lie for so long that it had weighed him down like stones in his pocket, forcing him deeper into the depths of deceit and lies and perhaps now he could finally be free of it.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Pete, did you think you were so clever that I’d never work it out? Or was it that I was just too stupid?’ She was practically spitting the words out.

  ‘Neither, Kate,’ he spluttered. ‘I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry.’ He felt like a dog, hanging its head in shame, tail between its legs. He could only submit.

  ‘What I don’t understand is exactly what your intentions are. Are you planning to run off into the sunset with your younger model, never to be seen again or were you, at some point, planning to own up to your responsibility and be a father? Tell me, Pete, because I’d really like to know.’

  Had she read his letter already? No, that was impossible, he’d only just left it on the bed and she’d been downstairs the whole time. Had she discovered it over the weekend, read it and put it back? Yes, he thought, maybe that was it. In that case she didn’t know everything. He breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, she only knew what he wanted her to know and although he wished to God she hadn’t seen the letter until after he’d left, it was damage limitation at least.

  ‘Kate,’ he began, choosing his words carefully. ‘I’m so sorry that you’ve found out like this. The truth is, I just need some time away, to sort my head out. Of course, I wasn’t planning on abandoning you or the girls. I just thought a couple of weeks away from each other might help to clear our heads, you know? Our marriage, well, I don’t need to tell you that it’s not what it should be. I’ve not been happy for a long time and I don’t think you have either. We need to address this and maybe we need a clean break or maybe we’ll come back stronger, but we need time to think.’

  She laughed in his face, not with amusement, but with contempt. ‘Stop the bullshit, Pete, you’re going away with HER for goodness’ sake.’

  Bloody hell, she knew everything! But how? He was scanning the various options. Had Dan told her? No, he didn’t approve but he’d never do that. Had Claire spoken to her? No, that was ridiculous. He kept coming back to the same thing – she must have read the WhatsApp messages between him and Claire on his phone. But how? He’d changed his password and he was so careful not to leave it lying around. But that was the only possible explanation.

  He felt his legs buckle beneath him and he sat down, on the cold hallway floor, leaning up against the front door – which just minutes ago had been so tantalisingly close. It was over now, he realised. There was no point in pretending otherwise. The image of Claire waiting for him at the Eurostar was slowly slipping away, already becoming a distant dream that he couldn’t quite reach.

  ‘I’ve been miserable, Kate,’ he said, looking down at the red and white tiles, fixating on the mosaic patterns so he didn’t have to look at his wife. ‘I’ve been miserable for a long time. And then I met her and I just felt alive for the first time in so long. And it made me realise just how depressed I’ve been and how I need to do something about it. And the longer it went on, the harder it was for me to tell you. And I feel awful, I really do. I never wanted this to happen and I didn’t go looking for it. But it did happen and I’m sorry.’

  She didn’t say anything and slowly he raised his eyes to look at her. She had sat down too, leaning up against the stairs, her head in her hands.

  ‘Do you remember that night we first met?’ she asked. The question startled him because of all the things he had expected her to say, it wasn’t that.

  ‘Of course,’ he replied.

  ‘I saw you, walking back from the bar with a cocky swagger and you told me to sit on your lap and I thought, What an arrogant prick he is. And then I fell in love with you and I thought, No, he’s not an arrogant prick at all, he’s amazing, he’s my Pete. But you should always trust your first instincts, shouldn’t you?’

  How petty of her, he thought, but fair enough, she was angry and she had every right to be. He tried another tack. ‘Are you honestly telling me that you think we’re happily married and that everything is okay between us?’

  ‘Of course I fucking don’t!’ she exploded. ‘We can barely stand to be in the same room as each other and you haven’t so much as touched me in years.’

  ‘I haven’t touched you? You haven’t wanted to go anywhere near me, Kate. It feels as though you actually hate me sometimes. Even saying good morning to me is an effort to you. I put up with it, for years, because I knew you were going through a hard time and I wanted to be there for you, but it affected me too.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Pete, I’m sorry that while I was struggling with motherhood, hating myself and barely being able to make it through the day that it was so hard for you. You who got to swan off to work every day and go to swanky dinners with friends and clients as if your life hadn’t changed at all. It must have been
so very hard.’

  Despite himself, he was starting to feel frustrated with her. This was just so typical of the new Kate and her ‘oh woe is me’ attitude. Why couldn’t she just buck up like everyone else did? ‘Kate, our children are five and seven years old. Everyone gets the baby blues but I’m not sure that you can still use it as an excuse.’

  He knew it was harsh but it felt so good. They’d spent so many years avoiding confrontation and now all the unspoken words were flooding out and he could finally say the things that he’d been thinking for so long. He watched her face as she slowly composed herself and planned her next move.

  ‘Anyway, Pete, we’ve digressed. What I’d like to know, as I asked you before, is what your intention is?’

  ‘I just want some space,’ he said. ‘I want to take some time out and work out what it is that I want. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being unhappy and I don’t think you do either.’

  ‘So, are you telling me that you’re not leaving me to be with this woman then? That you’re just taking a breather?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he answered honestly. ‘My plan is to go away and work it out.’

  ‘With her?’

  ‘With her.’

  ‘And who exactly is “her”?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘It does to me.’

  He sighed deeply. ‘It’s no one you know. Just someone I met.’

  ‘Do you love her?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She nodded, as if resigned. ‘Do you know, Pete, if you’d handled this like a gentleman, if you’d come to me and told me how you were feeling, I would have understood. We could have confronted it and dealt with it. We’ve been in each other’s lives for so long that we owe each other that. But instead, you decided to deceive me for months on end, humiliate me and then scuttle off with your lover without so much as a goodbye to your children. That’s unforgivable.’

  Now it was his turn to laugh. ‘You would have understood? Are you kidding me? You’d have made my life hell, punishing me for the humiliation that I’ve caused, blaming me for your own embarrassment. All you care about is what other people think. You want everyone to think we’re the perfect couple, living in the perfect house, with the perfect children. You really don’t care what’s actually happening behind closed doors.’ He risked a glance at his watch. Could he still make the train? Suddenly, he wanted to leave even more than ever. They weren’t going to resolve this right now, sitting on the floor of their hallway, hating each other.

  As if on cue, the wind deflated from her sails and she clutched her knees and started sobbing. ‘What happened to us, Pete? When did it all go so wrong?’

  He knew this was his fault, that he’d been a shitty husband to her but he was in self-preservation mode now and instinctively wanted to put the blame on her.

  ‘It went wrong when you started resenting me even though I’d done nothing to warrant it,’ he said. ‘I’ve always tried to be a good husband, and a good father, but it was like I could do nothing right. For the last few years it’s like you’re just tolerating me being in your life for the sake of the children. You don’t really want me around.’

  ‘So rather than ask me what’s wrong you just find someone else, is that it?’

  ‘I tried to ask you,’ he insisted. ‘I tried so many times, but you just shut me out. It’s like you gave up on our marriage long ago but couldn’t even be bothered to discuss it. And to be honest, Kate, you kind of gave up on yourself too. I don’t know what happened to you but you’re not the woman I fell in love with, not anymore.’

  ‘How do you think I’ve been feeling, Pete? Why do you think I’ve been like this?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Did it ever occur to you that I was struggling too? That I’ve been struggling for years watching you live your life like everything’s okay while mine is crashing down around me?’

  ‘I gave you everything you wanted, Kate, but it was never enough.’

  ‘It’s not about the fucking money, Pete! It’s not about the fancy house or the holidays. It’s about having a husband who’s there for me.’

  ‘I was there for you!’

  ‘How? By sleeping with another woman?’

  He sighed. They were going around in circles. This was why his idea to leave without a confrontation had been a good one. They could have saved this conversation for when they’d both calmed down and it would have been a lot more rational.

  ‘Look, Kate, we’re both angry, we’re both hurt and upset. Maybe I should just go now, and we can talk again in a couple of weeks when we’ve both had time to calm down.’

  ‘Okay,’ she agreed, which surprised him. ‘Only, if you really need time to calm down and think about it, you can’t go away with her. Surely you know that?’

  ‘So what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Go anywhere, take the time you need, I’ll take some time too. I’ll tell the girls you’ve gone away on business. Come back in a couple of weeks and we’ll talk again.’

  He knew it was a perfectly reasonable request, in fact it was bloody decent of her given everything. For a second he saw the Kate he used to know – the fair, rational person who looked for the positive in every situation. Should I do it? He thought. Should I give her this? Then he thought of Claire. She’d be absolutely livid. Would she ever forgive him? She’d been amazing up until now but this was pushing it. He was in limbo between two women and he had no idea which direction to go in. But maybe he owed it to Kate to do this for her. All of a sudden the idea of an option C seemed appealing. Perhaps Kate was right. Perhaps some time on his own, away from both women, was what he needed to finally make a decision.

  He looked his wife straight in the eye and nodded. ‘All right,’ he said.

  24

  Claire

  The train emerged from the darkness and just like that, she was back. The English landscape whizzed past her, each field taking her closer and closer to Pete. There would be no ceremony, no welcome party when she arrived in London. No one even knew she was coming. Claire rested her head against the window and looked out at the countryside. It looked exactly the same as it had when she had last seen it – but for her, everything had changed.

  It had been five months since she was last on the Eurostar, heading in the other direction towards her new life. Her mind drifted back to that day. She had been in bits when she realised Pete wasn’t coming and, after her initial burst of defiance had quickly worn off, had spent the first half of the journey crying quietly and avoiding eye contact with other passengers. Everything she had imagined, anticipated and hoped for had been snatched away from her in an instant and she felt, for the first time in her life, utterly lost. She was used to being on her own and was usually content in her own company, but she had never really known what it was like to feel truly alone until then.

  But she had always prided herself on being strong and independent and after an hour of self-pity she had wiped her eyes, taken a deep breath and given herself a stern talking to. Screw him, she thought. She was young and beautiful, with money in the bank and no ties to anyone or anywhere. She could literally do anything or go anywhere she liked. She was truly free and how many people could say that? It wasn’t a terrible situation to be in. By the time the train arrived in Paris, she was feeling almost positive. He was the loser in all this, not her.

  But then checking into the hotel, she felt another wave of grief for the future that had been taken away from her and she lay on the bed and glanced across to the other side where Pete should have been, smiling back at her and beckoning her to him, and she allowed the tears to come again. She hadn’t cried in years and now they were all coming at once, a river spilling down her face, down her body, on to the bedspread. She cried, she raged, she thumped the pillows and then she collapsed, exhausted. After a few minutes she went to the bathroom to clean herself up, then picked up her coat and purse and went downstairs, exiting the hotel on to the busy Parisian street.<
br />
  She wandered around for a while and then found a bar, feeling the rush of warmth as she walked in and ordered a glass of red wine. She looked around at the rest of the customers, all in groups and pairs, chatting animatedly among themselves, not even noticing the British girl sitting there, alone, the world having crashed down around her. It was amazing how she could go from feeling hopeful to hopeless so quickly, she thought. Was this going to be her lot for the next few days, weeks and months? She couldn’t bear it. This was why she hadn’t fallen in love before, why she had always called off relationships before they got too serious. It was agony.

  One minute she was thinking about jumping on a plane and heading off to Australia – it was spring there, what a wonderful time to go back to the country she had loved when travelling – and the next she was thinking of Pete, his face, his smile, his arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in the lemony smell of him, and realising that she may never see him again and everything else just seemed futile. Perhaps she should go to her dad’s house and wait for him there? Maybe he would come.

  She sipped her wine and let herself imagine for a minute that Pete was there with her, sitting opposite her, clinking glasses and saying cheers as they realised that they had actually done it. She indulged in the thought that she had won, that she had got him all to herself, that they had their whole future ahead of them and that the only thing they needed to think about was where they were going to go for dinner that evening. But the image quickly evaporated. It was no good to think like that, she was on her own now and she might as well get used to it. She thought about her dad’s house. Maybe it was just what she needed right now, a bit of time alone, a project to get stuck into. She could refurbish the house while healing her wounds and then make some major life decisions after that. If she felt happy there she could start the B&B business she had been dreaming of. If it was too lonely being there on her own, she could walk away at any time and make a new plan. As the wine warmed her insides, she felt more resolute. Yes, she had a plan. She ordered another glass of wine and a steak and frites, Pete’s favourite dish, and afterwards she went outside and took a walk along the River Seine, absorbing the city, its lights, people, colour and vibrancy. She breathed it in one last time.