The Missing Wife

by Sam Carrington

  ‘No, don’t blame yourself, Mum. Me and Dad could do more to help.’

  Louisa gave a small laugh. ‘Well, I wouldn’t say no to that, obviously. But it’s not for you to feel responsible – you’ve got enough going on just being a teenager.’

  Emily laughed, but as she pulled out from Louisa’s arms, tears were bubbling at her lower lids. ‘I kinda like Oliver, Mum. He was nice to me yesterday, seemed really concerned I was out on my own with Noah.’

  ‘Yeah? That’s good,’ Louisa said, although she wasn’t comfortable with where this might be going. ‘Where was he when he saw you?’

  ‘Just at the end of our road, in the car. He was parked by the trees,’ she said.

  Louisa narrowed her eyes. Being parked within sight of their house that early in the morning was very odd. ‘And he got out of the car when he saw you?’

  ‘Yeah. I was walking the opposite way, but he caught up with me. Scared me half to death when he came running up behind me. But he was just worried, he said.’

  ‘Worried about you being on your own?’

  ‘Yeah, especially the fact I was out alone that early. He said the roads were practically empty, no one about. Said he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to me, like it had to Melissa.’

  Louisa’s breath caught in her throat. Maybe she was taking a massive leap in the wrong direction – her head was telling her she was, but her instinct was on high alert. To her, that sounded more like a threat. To her, it sounded as though Oliver had done something bad to Melissa, and if Emily wasn’t careful, the same fate would come to her.

  ‘Did he say anything else?’ Her voice shook. She hoped Emily wouldn’t pick up on it.

  ‘Oh, we chatted a lot as we walked. Went down past Tiff’s and up near the common.’

  ‘Jesus, Emily!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, that’s a long way, and the common? You don’t know Oliver – you should’ve come straight home.’

  Emily’s eyes were suddenly wide. ‘I’m sorry. You were talking to him at your party. I didn’t think there was any reason to think he was a psycho or anything. I mean, he’s not, is he? He’s been lovely to you, to us.’

  ‘Yes, I know, love. But you can’t be that trusting. Not when Oliver hasn’t been around for so long. We don’t really know him.’

  ‘He said you were the love of his life, Mum. Has he come back for you? Is that why he turned up at your party?’

  ‘No. No, of course not.’ Louisa’s words carried no conviction. She couldn’t be sure that Emily was wrong. She couldn’t be sure of anything.

  25

  THE APOLOGY

  Saturday p.m.

  Louisa pulled at the cupboard doors and drawers in the kitchen, banging each shut again loudly. She needed to go shopping. Brian – still comatose following his heavy drinking session with Oliver – was not going to be able to drive even when he did eventually surface.

  ‘Emily,’ she said as she walked into the lounge, ‘fancy helping me do an online shop?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ Emily put Noah down on his playmat. To give Louisa a break, she’d given him his feed, winded him, and had been playing with him for the last hour. All Louisa had done with that time was have a sneaky cigarette in the back garden and then crash around in the kitchen, all the while ruminating about what Oliver might have been telling Brian last night.

  ‘Will they still deliver today, do you think?’ Louisa put her laptop on the coffee table and got Tesco’s groceries homepage up.

  ‘It could be an issue leaving it this late on a weekend, but we can see what slots they have.’

  ‘Great. Let’s do this then.’

  About ten minutes after they’d finished, Brian made a hesitant entrance into the lounge.

  ‘You look like shit,’ Louisa said.

  ‘Good morning to you, too.’

  ‘It’s afternoon, actually.’

  ‘God.’ Brian gingerly moved to sit down on the sofa, lowering himself in what looked like slow motion, then held his head in his cupped hands. ‘I feel really, really rough.’

  ‘You deserve to.’ Louisa was about to launch into an attack on his drunken behaviour but stopped herself. Last Saturday, she’d been the one hanging. She’d been the one making her way tentatively into the house in the hope Brian wasn’t mad at her. She should cut him some slack.

  ‘I’ll make you some coffee,’ she said instead.

  Staring out the back window as she waited for the kettle to boil, Louisa contemplated how to proceed. As much as she’d like to bury her head and pretend Oliver Dunmore hadn’t come back into her life, the fact was, that would be impossible now. Even if Melissa was found safe and well, his presence had already impacted on her little family. Whatever Oliver had been telling Brian last night now couldn’t be untold, nor could him telling her daughter that he would’ve married Louisa. That if it wasn’t for what Louisa did, he would’ve stayed.

  Absentmindedly, Louisa made a coffee. Brian was hunched over the arm of the sofa when she walked in with it.

  ‘Here you go,’ she said, handing him the mug.

  Brian straightened. His eyes were puffy and dark. ‘Thanks. God, what a night.’

  ‘Yes, so I heard.’

  ‘What, Oliver’s already given you the low-down?’ He looked confused.

  ‘No, Brian, you did that in the early hours of this morning.’

  He groaned. ‘Sorry, Lou. Was I a nightmare?’

  ‘You don’t even remember?’

  ‘I remember leaving the pub. And waking up just now. That’s pretty much it. No recollection of how I even got home.’

  Emily, who’d been quietly sat on the floor with Noah, raised her eyebrows. ‘Wow, Dad – what a role model!’ She tutted as she shook her head.

  ‘I know, I know. I’m old enough to know better. But Oliver kept them coming. No sooner did I finish one pint, than another was lined up. I don’t think I’ve put that much away since I was twenty.’

  ‘Emily, love,’ Louisa said. ‘Could you do me a huge favour and make up a few bottles for Noah?’

  ‘You just want me out the room so you can tell Dad off, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Louisa said, winking at Emily.

  ‘Sure.’ She got up. ‘Sorry, Dad. You’re on your own.’

  ‘Cheers, lovely daughter of mine,’ Brian said.

  ‘So,’ Louisa waited until Emily was out of earshot, ‘what did you and Oliver talk about all night?’

  ‘We covered it all, Louisa – from when you two were together right up to the night of the party and Melissa’s disappearance.’

  ‘Oh, right. Well, no wonder you were so late then; that’s quite a timespan.’ Louisa hoped the apprehension she was feeling wasn’t noticeable in her voice.

  ‘It sure was. It was weird, hearing about your life with him.’ His face seemed to darken. Louisa felt a tug of anxiety in her gut.

  ‘Brian, I was seventeen when I met him. We were together for less than two years. We were kids.’

  ‘Sounded more serious than that though, Lou. And it got me thinking. I met you at that Millennium party, and you’d been a mess that night. Emotionally, I mean. You’d even told me you shouldn’t be at the party, that you were meant to be somewhere else. I don’t think I ever asked you where that was.’

  ‘I don’t even remember, but it wouldn’t have been to do with Oliver. He left me, Brian – moved away in ninety-seven, two years before I even met you.’

  ‘I suppose.’ He looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. ‘But, he told me that it was you who made him go. He said his hand was forced; he had no choice because of what you’d done—’

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake – what? What was I meant to have done? Did he bloody tell you? Because I’m fucked if I know what he’s talking about!’

  ‘Okay, calm down, Lou.’ Brian’s hands flew to his temples, as if to protect his aching head from the pitch of her voice.

  ‘Sure you don’t want to ca
ll me Lou-Lou, like you did last night?’ She glared at him.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, rubbing his hands over his face. ‘I remember that now you’ve said it. I guess Oliver talking about how much in love you were, how you were always desperate for sex—’

  ‘Really? That’s the way he said it? Lovely.’

  ‘Point is, I got jealous. He seems such a nice bloke, and good-looking. Fit, as you’d say – so I felt a bit aggrieved, and with drink involved, well, you know how it is. Paranoia is heightened.’

  Louisa did know. And yes, paranoia was a terrible thing. She’d had a whole week of feeling that way and couldn’t see the end in sight.

  ‘Brian. Oliver is my past. You are my now, my future. But really, you don’t even need to put yourself in that position – you don’t have to be pals with Oliver. And you shouldn’t be if it’s going to affect our marriage.’

  ‘I’m fine about it, really, just shocked me a bit. I know we’re fine – just because I felt a bit jealous, doesn’t mean I’m insecure, exactly. Anyway, it’s clear to see how much he loves Melissa, so I don’t think he’s planning on stealing you from me.’ He attempted a laugh. ‘But seriously, the bloke’s in bits about her. It’s horrible to witness.’

  Louisa was glad the conversation was steering away from her. ‘Does he really have no idea where she might be, what happened to her? It seems strange to me.’

  ‘I think Oliver’s exhausted all the places she would usually go to. He has several theories, none of them resulting in Melissa being found dead. So, I think that’s reassuring, don’t you?’

  ‘Maybe he’s lying to himself.’

  ‘To remain positive? Yeah, I guess he might be. I wouldn’t like to think the worst either.’

  It hadn’t been what Louisa meant. She was angling at it being that Oliver was lying to himself because he knew Melissa was dead.

  ‘Has he had any updates on the investigation?’

  ‘Yeah, he said the police updated him yesterday.’ Brian sipped at his coffee. His eyes were beginning to look less swollen now.

  ‘But he was here all day yesterday, I didn’t hear him take any phone calls.’ Louisa frowned, wondering why Oliver would lie about that.

  ‘Darling, you were asleep for most of the day, remember? He could have had people visit the house and you’d have been none the wiser.’

  Louisa flinched. That thought hadn’t crossed her mind. She’d slept so solidly the day had whizzed by.

  ‘Right, of course. Okay, go on.’ She didn’t want to dwell on what might’ve gone on while she’d slept.

  ‘He told me there’d been no new leads. That the police had been very apologetic when they informed him that no one they’d interviewed from the party remembered seeing Melissa.’

  ‘They can’t have interviewed everyone though. Tiff only gave them her list on Thursday. Someone must’ve remembered seeing her, Brian.’

  ‘Don’t know. From what Oliver said, they didn’t sound optimistic.’

  ‘Poor woman – to be unremarkable in people’s minds – for them not to remember her being there, that’s awful.’

  It was possible that people were saying they hadn’t seen Melissa because they didn’t want to get dragged into the investigation. Louisa thought it was unlikely though. Most of the time people couldn’t wait to be a part of something like that. A missing person would usually get people all bustling to tell their story – feel as though they were important. It was hard to believe that no one could remember seeing her that night. But then, if it hadn’t been for Louisa’s flashes of memory, she’d also be struggling to remember Melissa being there.

  But had she actually seen Melissa’s face that night? It was still bothering Louisa that the woman standing by Oliver on the stairs might not have been his wife. As was the fact she hadn’t just asked Oliver outright whether it had been her. Like she was afraid the answer would cause more problems, or that he’d merely lie. Louisa’s mind was going round in circles. She had to find someone who remembered seeing Melissa on the night of her party, and who could recognise her from the photo the police had shown.

  Louisa waited until Emily was back in the room and for Brian to have sunk into a post-hangover slumber as the TV played in the background, then she went upstairs. Retrieving the list Tiff had given her, along with her own sub-lists, Louisa sat on the bed and searched through the names again. She should contact some of them. Thank them for coming to celebrate her fortieth with her, have a general chat, then drop into the conversation the terrible news about Melissa. You could always get people gossiping. And a hot topic like a disappearance must surely have got some chins wagging. Maybe being spoken to by the police was too scary, had prevented them from remembering anything in detail. Speaking to a friend, however tenuous that friendship might be, would be more likely to draw out the memories.

  Someone must know something. And if not one person on the list could remember Melissa Dunmore, then that raised questions Louisa didn’t want to contemplate.

  26

  THE BRUSH-OFF

  Monday a.m. – Day 10 post-party

  ‘What are you doing, Lou?’

  ‘I’m feeding Noah.’

  ‘Come back to bed, love. It’s still early.’

  ‘When he’s finished,’ Louisa said. A bubble of impatience was steadily inflating in her belly.

  ‘I think he has, Louisa. Look, he’s asleep in his cot.’ Brian encouraged her to look.

  Louisa snapped her head up. Shook it. No, she’d been in the nursery chair, feeding him; she was certain. ‘Oh.’ She saw the little bundle, lying still, through the bars of the cot. ‘I must’ve dreamt it.’

  Why weren’t the dreams, the hallucinations, stopping? Her sleep hadn’t been as disturbed as before, not since Noah had begun bottle-feeding. They should’ve stopped now. Unless her hallucinations were linked with her mental health, like that article had stated. Had she been blaming her strange behaviour on Noah keeping her up all night when it had just been her all along?

  As she walked across the landing behind Brian, a memory flashed across her vision.

  Darkness. Trees.

  Voices.

  Her feet, cool in the grass.

  ‘Can I blag one of them off you?’

  The face.

  Louisa swallowed hard. The images were gone but her fear remained. Whoever that had been in the beer garden at her party was someone who’d caused her to feel afraid.

  Louisa got into bed, telling Brian she was fine, not to worry.

  ‘Try and go back to sleep, Lou,’ he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  Sleep was impossible again now. Louisa lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Dark shadows from the trees outside danced along the edges like the lost memories dancing along the edges of her consciousness.

  Tiff had said she’d seen her from the top window of the pub, and that she was talking to someone, but she couldn’t tell if it had been a man or a woman. Louisa could see Melissa’s face in her mind’s eye. She remembered her hair – the long spiral curls. She tried to convince herself she was just remembering the photograph the police showed at the appeal, but deep down she knew there was something more. As soon as she’d set eyes on it she’d known it was a face she’d seen before.

  Louisa wasn’t looking forward to another day at home, waiting, hoping for news of Melissa. Waiting, dreading Oliver turning up. She’d take her mind off it by phoning the guests she’d marked as ‘those of interest’ on the list, at least get the ball rolling. For those she didn’t have phone numbers for, she’d message on Facebook. Then she’d take Noah out in the pram for a walk – get some fresh air and pay Tiff a visit. She needed to get some of this weight off her chest.

  ‘I haven’t got time to chat, Lou. I’m off for a church meeting at ten,’ Tiff said, keeping Louisa at the patio door.

  ‘Oh, okay. Not a problem.’ Louisa checked her watch. It was nine-fifteen. Plenty of time for a quick chat, plus Tiff looked ready: dressed in a powder-blue skirt with
a white blouse, face fully made-up – it wasn’t as though she was still in her pyjamas. She did appear flustered though.

  ‘Maybe later – I’ll pop over sometime this afternoon, yes? I’m assuming you’ve nothing else on?’

  Tiff barely waited for an answer before she was sliding the patio door closed. Louisa stood there for a moment, stunned into inaction.

  Her legs weakened as her mind jumped to conclusions. Brian. Tiff wanted to get rid of her quickly because her husband was inside.

  She put her face up against the glass, cupping her hands either side of her head to get as good a view inside as she could. There wasn’t a direct line of vision into the kitchen so she couldn’t really see anything. She’d wait. Hang around outside, walk up and down the road a bit until she saw whoever it was make their exit.

  Slowly pushing the pram back down the side of the house, Louisa made her way to the front. There was no point looking through the lounge window. Tiff rarely used the front room, and if Brian was in the house, that would be the last place they’d be – she wouldn’t chance anyone spotting them so easily. Louisa shut the gate behind her and walked out and to the left, as if she were going back home.

  She’d go as far as the church, then turn back.

  Relief turned to anger as she spotted the figure emerging from Tiff’s gate.

  Not Brian.

  Oliver.

  Tiff had openly said how ‘hot’ she’d thought Oliver was after meeting and chatting to him at the party. But she hadn’t expected her to do anything about it. Oliver was her ex. Oliver had a wife. A wife that was missing. What was Tiff thinking?

  Her earlier thought of how Oliver’s presence had impacted on her family now extended to the impact it was going to have on her friendship. Tiff had been keen to get rid of her when she’d knocked on the patio door; her abruptness clearly pointed to something untoward going on. Louisa remained partially hidden by one of Tiff’s neighbour’s privet hedges and watched as Oliver walked up the road a bit and then climbed into his car. That’s why she hadn’t seen it; he’d parked past Tiff’s, further up the road. She ducked further into the driveway as Oliver’s car drove by.