Undercurrent

by J. A. Baker

  I quickly grab Tillie who has scampered through from the kitchen when she heard the thump of Anna’s body as it hit the tiled floor. She yelps and I smooth down her fur and murmur in her ear to reassure her. Then I dash through to the utility room, pop Tillie in her cage with a bowl of water and click the door closed behind me.

  I follow the sound of Martyn’s footsteps as he moves into the study. When I find him, he’s in the same position he was the day I confronted him about having the affair - sat back in his chair with a smug look on his face. I step forward and shake my head at him, my brow furrowed into a deep, angry line.

  “Why Martyn? For god’s sake why?”

  “I don’t need a reason Phoebe. You know that. Now go away and leave me be,”

  And he laughs and turns away as if we have just discussed the weather or talked about what we should have for lunch. I want to throw myself at him, pummel his chest, kick out at him, but it’s pointless. He is beyond any kind of reasoning so instead I trudge back in to see Anna, to work out what I should do next. Pain hammers behind my eyes as I stare down at her lifeless body, her pale, pulpy face pressed down into the tiles. The world tilts precariously on its axis as I watch her shoulders shift and squirm ever so slightly and hear a tiny moan emanate from somewhere underneath her crumpled, bloody body. My hands fly up to cover my mouth and tears mist up my vision. Despite having her head cracked open by a heavy piece of silver by a psychopath she is alive. Dear god. That poor woman. She is still alive.

  Eighteen

  “It stopped days ago,” Callum looks up from his phone which he is completely engrossed by.

  “So it’s what - 11.30?” Mike says as he stands next to the antique mechanical clock that sits on their mantelpiece, squat and remarkably unattractive with its tarnished gold effect rim and dirty face. He tips it sideways and listens for the dull knock of the pendulum as it swings into action before standing it back down and winding it up until it can turn no more.

  “Probably something like that,” Callum murmurs, his face contorted into a grimace as he is disturbed from reading a series of particularly amusing or gross memes that he is guffawing over. He continues scrolling and re-reads a message he received from Sammo from last week that he didn’t take any notice of when he first got it. Not after Sammo had acted like such a dickhead.Callum had been too pissed off to take any notice of anything Sammo had to say.

  Your neighbour’s a fucking nutter!

  Callum clicks the delete button and watches it disappear. Probably chased out by the old guy for breaking into their shed or doing something similarly stupid. Him and AJ were both out for bother that day. Whatever it was, it served them right. Arseholes.

  “For god’s sake Callum! You’ve got a bloody clock on that stupid phone of yours haven’t you? The least you can do is check the time for me.”

  The young lad looks up from his phone, an unmistakable expression of mild annoyance on his face as he looks over to his brother as if to say, What? What the hell have I done now?

  “It’s 11.39, dad if you must know. And there’s no need to shout,” Mason is sitting on the couch with his feet tucked under him and the remote in his hand. When it comes to TV viewing, nobody else gets a look in, especially when his favourite car programme is on. Speed. There’s something about it that fascinates him. He can’t wait until he’s old enough to start having driving lessons. When that happens he’ll pass his test and show his dad how that car of his should really be driven. It should be given a good blow out every so often, a good de-coke, not driven like somebody’s nana is behind the wheel. That’s how his dad is with it. It’s a waste of a good car. Anyway he doesn’t know what’s the matter with the old man tonight. Grouchy as hell, he is. And there’s no need. He should chill the fuck out. It’s not Callum’s fault their mam hasn’t come home yet is it? Or that they didn’t win the quiz. Taking it out on other people is bang out of order.

  Mike stares at his two sons and hollers over at the pair of them, “Get your shoes on, the pair of you. We’re going out to look for your mother.”

  “What? Go out looking for her where?” A flush takes hold of Callum’s face. He’s waited all week for this particular episode. They’re rebuilding an old VW and fitting it with a Jaguar engine. He’s been looking forward to it for ages.

  “Not that you’ve noticed but your mother went for a walk when we went out and she hasn’t come back. It’s nearly midnight, pitch black out there and if you’re not concerned, then maybe you should be.”

  “Ring her,” Callum says dismissively and turns back to the screen.

  “Tried that. Cuts straight to the answer machine. Now do as I asked and get your shoes on.”

  The boys glance at one another, shrug resignedly and slope off into the hallway to retrieve their trainers.

  “She’ll probably be over the road at that woman’s house.” Mason pushes his arms into the sleeves of his well-worn denim jacket and peers out at the darkness.

  “What woman?” Mike growls. He is tired, has had too much to drink and is mystified and bloody worried. This isn’t like Anna. She’s a creature of habit and is always in before it gets dark. Always. When she said she was going for a walk he thought she meant for an hour or so. Not this.

  “That new neighbour over the road,” Callum replies. “You know, the one who was here a few weeks ago. The weird one.”

  Mike scowls and shakes his head dismissively, “Oh right, yeah her. I doubt it.”

  Callum points to the phone in the corner of the room where a pale green light winks at them, “There’s a message on the answer machine. Problem solved right there,” he smiles at the fact he has sorted this mini drama before it’s barely begun. A small achievement but a noteworthy one all the same.

  Mike marches over and presses the button down, his eyes dark with expectation. The machine whirrs before a crackling, distant voice fills the silence of the room, Hi, it’s me guys. The conference has been brought forward so I’m in Durham for the night. Should be finished by 3.30 tomorrow so I can be at yours for about 4 to 4.30. I wouldn’t mind a bed for the night if that’s all right? Don’t fancy the drive back in rush hour traffic. See you all tomorrow.

  A thin beep follows Toby’s voice and Mike shakes his head and whistles with relief, “God knows why she didn’t leave a note to say she’s gone to see him but at least we know where she is now.”

  He picks up the receiver and punches Toby’s mobile number into the handset ignoring the small, still voice in his head that’s telling him she wouldn’t usually visit anybody this late, especially in the city. He stares over at the boys and thinks out loud while his call connects, “She must have taken the train. That’s where she’ll be now. On the last train back from Durham city centre.”

  A groggy voice answers after three or four rings, “Yeah? Hello?”

  “Toby, it’s Mike. She’s obviously left you and is on her way back here?” He taps his fingers on the side of the phone expectantly, his breath becoming laboured as he waits for his brother in law’s reply.

  “Huh? Who left me?” A rustling sound fills Mike’s ear and he pictures Toby propping himself up in bed, rubbing at his eyes.

  “Anna. She has been to see you tonight I take it?”

  “No. I’ve not heard from her. Should I have? Did she say she was coming through?” His voice is raspy, slightly breathless after being dragged from sleep.

  Mike detects a sudden note of concern in Toby’s voice and regrets ringing him, putting him through this when he’s got an important day ahead of him tomorrow. His eyes suddenly feel heavy. If she’s not with Toby, then where is she?

  “Sorry Tobes. My mistake. Get yourself back to sleep and we’ll see you tomorrow when you’re done.’

  “No! Hang on,” he is suddenly awake and not about to hang up, “What’s going on there Mike? What’s all this about Anna?”

  Mike reluctantly begins to explain, torn between feeling guilty for involving him and being scared witless by his wife’s disap
pearance. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the two boys beginning to get restless, the absence of their mother now something tangible. Not a simple misunderstanding or something that can be easily explained away but a situation that is gathering momentum with a sickening and gut churning rapidity.

  “Right, I’m getting dressed and will be with you in half an hour,” Toby says, exuding an air of calmness he definitely doesn’t feel. His stomach is in knots. He knows his sister and can tell when something is up. And something is definitely up. She wasn’t herself the other week - subdued and drinking more than she usually does. Not like her at all.

  “No Toby. It’ll all be okay. You’ve got a big day tomorrow. We can manage just fine here. She’ll be back before you even get here and. . .”

  But the line is dead before Mike can finish his sentence. With a trembling hand he slams the receiver down and slumps onto the sofa, staring at the window directly ahead. Come on Anna. Show your bloody face!

  ....................................................................................................................................................

  The roads are thankfully practically empty, bar the truckers who just seem to keep going all night, and Toby pulls up outside Mike and Anna’s house in just over half an hour, announcing his arrival with a slight screech of the brakes and the metallic rattle of his handbrake as he pulls at it with a little more force than is necessary.

  Mike notices Toby’s hair first - still ruffled from sleep, sticking out at peculiar angles, he resembles the small boy he has seen in photographs when he and Bridget and Anna were small. Three tots sat next to each other wearing wide grins and colour co-ordinated outfits.

  “Still no sign I take it?” Toby rushes in the room, his eyes scanning each of them in turn as he searches for an answer.

  Mike finds it difficult to summon up enough strength to answer so doesn’t. There’s no need anyway, the dead stares of the three of them convey enough despondency to tell Toby everything he needs to know. He looks at each of them in turn, “Nothing?”

  “No, nothing. We’ve tried her phone again. Still no answer.”

  “Have you been out looking for her yet?” His words seem to cut through the stillness of the room. Callum and Mason are sat on the sofa staring at the screen but neither of them appears to be really watching it.

  “Right we need to get out there,” Toby says, “You got any torches?”

  Mason jumps up, dips his head into the cupboard under the stairs and comes out holding three small torches aloft , “Will these do?”

  “Perfect,” Toby says as he takes two and gives one to Mike and keeps one for himself. Something seems to suddenly slot into place and without hesitation Mike hurls himself up and begins barking out orders.

  “Right, you two lads, Toby and I are going to have a look down by the river. Why don’t you both head up to the shop? Stick to the path and don’t split up. And keep your eyes peeled. She might be on the other side of the road.”

  Mason widens his eyes, “The shop? Dad, it’s nearly one in the morning. And anyhow it shows how often you walk anywhere. There isn’t a path on the other side of the road. It’s all fields, remember?”

  Mike sighs and checks his torch is working, “She might have gone to use the cash machine. I’m trying to think of every possible place she might be. Just do it okay? Stick together and meet us back here in an hour.” He walks to the door and shouts over his shoulder, “And take your phones so we can ring you if need be.”

  The grass squelches underfoot as Mike and Toby clamber through gorse bushes down to the path.

  “Which way?” Toby is looking down towards the sound of the river as it gushes past them, steady and fast. Mike stares into the vast darkness and swallows back his fear. He won’t allow himself to think anything other than the fact that Anna went for a walk and is sheltering from the rain under a tree somewhere. They’ve just passed a ragged, fading poster for a missing woman, likely to have fallen in the water and been dragged away by the current. What are the chances of another incident like that happening in the same place? He isn’t at all religious and doesn’t believe in a greater deity but finds himself praying that Anna will come striding out of the woods at any minute with a huge grin on her face, full of apologies for scaring the shit out of them all. He begins to question why they ever moved here in the first place. Stupid fucking river. Such a hideous death trap.

  The rain falls in great sheets, drenching them in minutes.

  “Should we shout her name? I was just thinking that if she’s a way off and disorientated, we might actually scare her. Two grown men screaming at the tops of our voices. What do you think?” Toby is staring at his brother in law, the beam of light illuminating his face, highlighting his pale skin, putting every blotch and mark under the spotlight. Mike shakes his head and his chin quivers slightly. He swallows and wipes the water from his face.

  “Let’s just stick together and keep sweeping the area with the torches. She may have slipped and be stuck somewhere.” He doesn’t relish the thought of his wife alone and frightened out here at night but has to keep his options open. He prays she has visited a friend, decided to stay over, tried to ring but couldn’t get through for any number of reasons. A stream of outlandish and bizarre scenarios fill his head because quite frankly. the alternative is too grisly to contemplate. They head further into the darkness, the wind from the river beginning to gather force. Even through the protection of the trees and dense shrubbery, it pushes them sideways, howling around their necks, biting at their faces.

  “If it wasn’t so bloody wet, we might have been able to look out for footsteps and follow her route,” Toby trudges along the mud, shining the torch at the ground every few seconds to keep to the path while Mike waves his about amongst the trees, then very slowly and deliberately, along the riverbank. Even with both beams of light, it’s almost impossible to see anything. The hedgerows and shrubbery provide darkness and shade even during the brightest of days such is their density. Attempting to locate anything in them at night time is hopeless.

  Mike feels a dull pounding in his temples. If Anna is out here then what the hell is she thinking staying out so long? Is this something to get back at him because he doesn’t help out around the house enough? Or because he spends too many hours at work? He hopes not because enough is enough. If it’s payback she’s after then this little jaunt of hers wins hands down.

  “I’m going to give one of the boys a ring. See if they’re okay out there.” Toby pulls out his phone and punches in a number. He puts it to his ear and listens. Straight to voicemail. Shit.

  “I’ll bet there’s no signal where they are. It’s a right bugger round here. We have to go to the back of the house to get texts,” Mike says, aware his voice is rising in pitch making him sound as desperate as he feels. Where the fuck is she? Their voices echo in the quiet of the night. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots then all is quiet again. Only the surge of the water as it flows past them somewhere down below. A raging current. Freezing and deep and strong enough to defeat even the strongest of swimmers.

  “Anna!” Mike’s voice resonates around them but is suddenly drowned out by the clap of thunder that booms overhead. He waits and then shouts again and again and again but the rain is torrential and the sound of his voice is overwhelmed by the noise nature makes when the clouds become too heavy, rip open and release their contents in a great deluge.

  “For fuck’s sake!” Toby slips as the path turns into a swamp. His leg becomes tangled up in the branches of a low lying bramble bush. It snags at his ankle as he pulls his foot free and he ends up on his backside in a huge puddle. “Where the hell is she?” He drags himself up and hollers into the impenetrable darkness, “Anna!” Still, the downpour continues to crash down around them, forcing them to crouch under the branches of the larger trees.

  “Wait!” Toby calls out to Mike who stops abruptly, his body frozen with anticipation, “It’s Callum calling me!” To
by holds up his phone to show Mike the screen. He shrugs. It’s too wet and dark to see it even with torches. Toby presses it and holds it to his ear, his eyes scrunched up against the raindrops.

  “Callum? You see anything?” He nods vigorously but Mike can tell by his tone, they haven’t found her, “Right okay. Well at least we know she isn’t there. You get yourselves back home and get dry. Thanks for trying.”

  Toby slips the mobile back into his pocket and looks up.

  Mike turns to look at Toby who shines the light directly on to his face. Panic and fear are written across his contorted features, “What now Toby? What the hell do we do now?”

  “Keep going. We haven’t covered much ground. She could be just around the next bend. We’ll go on a bit further and if she’s not there we go back and start knocking on doors.”

  Mike seems buoyed up by this idea and storms on ahead, water bouncing off his head as he ploughs through the sludge and mud. The stink of wet soil and sludge fills their nostrils as they trudge on through the darkness. On and on and on for a good twenty minutes finding nothing.

  Mike is becoming frantic. Toby can see by his gait, his great big strides, how his shoulders are dipped, that he is losing hope. He wonders how long they should keep going for before heading home. What if they turn back and Anna is just up around the bend, injured and freezing? At what point do they call for help from the professionals? Toby thunders on, trying to visualise Anna sat in a neighbour’s house, swigging back wine and chatting happily. If it weren’t so serious and scary he would laugh at the image. As it is, he finds himself fighting back tears.

  It takes them another twenty minutes to realise their search is proving fruitless. By the time they turn and head back they have been out for over an hour looking for her.