The Anita Waller Collection

by Anita Waller

  ‘Did he leave a note?’

  ‘If he had, I wouldn’t let you see it. But, no, he didn’t. He took his wallet, his phone, and disappeared. So, your guess is as good as mine.’

  Liz stood.

  ‘Then I’ll get off back to work, Rosie. I haven’t heard from him, so he’s not with me.’

  ‘Yes, Liz, you go back to your nice, cosy little family, and live your nice, cosy little life. Obviously, you still have your job…’

  Liz nodded at the woman falling apart in front of her. ‘I went back after maternity leave. If there’s…’

  ‘Don’t say anything else. Just go.’

  Liz picked up her bag and the clipboard and headed for the front door. Rosie didn’t follow her. Liz stepped out on to the path, and fished in her bag for her phone. Before she could ring, Jim was pulling up outside.

  She climbed into the backseat without saying anything, fighting to hold back tears of frustration.

  ‘Okay?’ Jim asked.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Just take me home, Jim, please.’

  Neither of them heard the crash of breaking crockery as Rosie upended the tray containing the drinks. ‘Fuck you, Liz Chambers,’ she muttered, and walked from the room.

  She picked up the telephone receiver and rang her mother. ‘I’d like Melissa home now, please.’

  ‘But she’s only been here an hour,’ Angela Harmer protested. ‘Can’t she stay a bit longer? We were going to watch a film…’

  ‘I would like her home, please. She’s my daughter, and I make the decisions in her life.’

  ‘Rosie, maybe next time you want to dump your daughter for reasons best known to yourself, maybe we’ll have our own decisions to make about whether we can help out, or not.’ Angela slammed down the phone, and Rosie burst into tears.

  This simply couldn’t go on.

  Chapter 12

  Sadie Fremantle watched from the bay window as Liz set off down the road, taking Jake home. She felt uneasy. There was clearly something wrong with Jake’s mummy, and she hoped it was nothing to do with her. Or Gareth.

  Suddenly Liz stopped and turned around; she had felt eyes on her and she caught sight of Sadie in the window. Both women waved, and Liz continued her journey.

  Jake crawled happily around, dragging his blankie behind him. The comfort blanket seemed to be an integral part of his make-up, and Liz watched in amusement as he struggled to extricate it from the legs of the coffee table.

  ‘Cup of tea, Mum?’ she heard Dan call, and responded with a no thank you. She felt she didn’t want anything – no drink, no food. She wanted to sleep, to escape from the thoughts running around her head.

  She was struggling to accept the idea of Phil walking away from Rosie; the Phil she had fallen in love with wouldn’t have done that. Yes, he could conceivably have left Rosie, but certainly wouldn’t have done it by disappearing. He would have made provision for Melissa as a priority, and as Rosie didn’t seem to have any idea where he was, that provision didn’t appear to be in place.

  So where was he, this man Liz loved? Even her thoughts came as something of a shock, because she knew that the eighteen months without him hadn’t dimmed her feelings.

  What had Rosie said? ‘He took his wallet and his phone…’. She knew something was wrong. What if he’d simply fallen, and cracked his head? He could be lying in the woods somewhere, undiscovered… dead. She knew he enjoyed his daily walk through the woods before starting work every morning.

  She caught the sob in the back of her throat. But somebody had his second mobile phone. She was getting messages, messages that she knew he hadn’t written.

  And what about money? Her brain felt as though it was about to explode with all the crazy, inter-connected thoughts tearing through it. He would need money if he was still alive. Rosie had said he disappeared one day.

  How could Liz find out if he had accessed his bank account? Ask Rosie? She could imagine what Rosie’s answer would be.

  And why hadn’t Rosie reported him as a missing person? She hadn’t, because if she had she would have told the police about their affair, and the police would have been knocking on her door.

  Liz saw car headlights swoop on to the drive, and stood. She had to put it to the back of her mind. Gareth was home, and he would soon pick up on any internal turmoil. She scooped up her son, and moved into the hall, where she smiled at her husband.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘Good day?’

  She nodded. ‘So so. You?’

  ‘Quiet. Glad to be home.’ He took Jake from her, and kissed him. ‘And how’s our youngest member?’

  Jake smacked him in the mouth.

  ‘Oh. You’re okay, then,’ he laughed. He turned to his wife. ‘Any problems?’

  ‘None,’ she said, a shade too brightly, and walked into the kitchen, leaving Gareth to handle the wriggling little boy.

  None at all.

  Liz ate her meal in silence, aware of the general chatter between her husband and her son, but not joining them. She sensed Gareth casting looks in her direction, but said nothing. She would speak when she was ready; Gareth should know that. They had been together long enough for him to recognise when she needed her own space.

  ‘Thank you, Daniel,’ she said eventually, standing and pushing her chair away from the table. ‘That was lovely. I’m going to check on Jake, he was a little unsettled. Then I might have a long soak in the bath.’

  ‘You okay, sweetheart?’ Gareth looked at her with concern.

  ‘I’m fine. Just a little tired. I’ll probably have an early night. Will you load the dishwasher, please?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, you go and relax.’

  She left them knowing their eyes were following her. They knew something was wrong; they knew her.

  Her brain was on fire. She was churning the facts around in her head that she had gleaned from everything Rosie had said, and to Liz’s horror, concluded that it was possible, even probable, that Phil was no longer alive.

  Should she approach the police? If she did, it would blow everything wide open; she could say goodbye to Gareth, and even possibly Dan. And she couldn’t do anything to hurt Dan. He needed stability at this point in his life.

  Rosie? Could she persuade Rosie to report Phil as a missing person? Again, that could open up the whole situation. And could she even believe Rosie? What if Rosie had killed him after Phil had come clean about their affair?

  Liz laughed aloud. Her imagination really was taking her off into the realms of fantasy. Ordinary people didn’t do things like that.

  She realised how very much on her own she was, and she tried to think logically. The only concrete thing connecting her to Phil was the love phone, and she knew it was somebody else using that. And if somebody else was using it, it meant Phil couldn’t. He would never have given up that phone voluntarily, any more than she would part with hers.

  Some answers must lie with Rosie, but Liz hadn’t a clue how to get her to talk. And really, as far as Liz was concerned, the answer to one question could set her mind at rest. Had Philip Latimer accessed his bank account since the day he went missing?

  Chapter 13

  The dumb waiter clanked, and Phil moved across to it, eager to see if he would get a hot drink. The flask was standing by the side of the carrier bag and he grabbed at it eagerly. As he turned to place them on his bed, he noticed a tall brown cardboard box at the back of the cupboard.

  He reached in and pulled at it, then decided it was too awkward with one hand. He laid his meals on the bed, and returned to the dumb waiter. He heard the clink as it prepared to rise, and he tugged at the box with some speed.

  He managed to get it out with seconds to spare, dropping it on to the floor as he did so. He picked it up and carried it across to the bed.

  This was such a break in routine he felt quite sick at the thought of opening it. Nothing on the outside gave any clue as to the contents, and he carefully peeled back the Sellotape sealing the end.

 
He slid out a camping cooker. In the bottom of the box was a smaller box, holding two gas canisters and two boxes of matches.

  He stared at it for some while, conflicting emotions raging through him. What the fuck was going on? Why was he being held prisoner? There had never been any communication, not a word spoken, an utterly silent world, for what must surely be months now. Whoever had taken him had played with his mind; exactly the same unpalatable food and drink, day after day after day, and then suddenly, when he had learned gratitude for being kept alive, Captor had changed things.

  Captor was upping the odds; making life a little bit more comfortable. And forcing Phil into making a simple decision. Should he use the cooker to warm the room, in view of the absence of any cooking implements, or should he conserve the gas and hope for maybe a saucepan or a kettle to be sent down.

  Phil felt almost a touch of panic when he realised he didn’t know which option to take. He lay on the bed, forcing his breathing to slow; he made the choice to set up the cooker with the gas canisters, light them to check that the cooker was in working order, and then switch it off and await the next-day delivery. It almost felt like a triumph over Captor, reaching a resolution. It was irrelevant whether it was the right decision or not, it was a decision made by him and not the unknown creep somewhere above.

  Phil checked in the carrier bag before opening the flask. There was a small saucepan and a tin of soup. Heinz vegetable soup. With a ring-pull opening top. And a spoon. No bowl, but a spoon. He could eat from the saucepan. He felt tears begin to well in his eyes, tears of gratitude for warm food. He checked further, and found the customary two sandwiches and bottles of water.

  He checked the flask – tea today. Again, the rush of gratitude. He drank the tea quickly, allowing himself two of the ginger biscuits.

  There was no resentment; he had been enraged when he had first surfaced in his new accommodation, but with acceptance had come a change in attitude. Now it was all about survival.

  And that depended on Captor.

  Chapter 14

  Rosie felt a surge of anger. She had been going through the household accounts, and things were starting to get a little bit tight, financially. Since Melissa’s accident and subsequent issues, she hadn’t worked. She knew everything would be solved by paying in the huge cheque from Banton and Hardwick, but every day she hoped Phil would return home. They would need that money to finance a move to a different part of the country, somewhere a long way from Liz Chambers.

  Rosie sighed, and placed the cheque in her bag. The following day, she would take it to the bank and deposit it into their joint current account, and then decide what to do with it, once it had cleared. If she didn’t, she would have Banton and Hardwick, in the form of Liz Chambers, on her back constantly.

  Not for the first time, she wondered about Phil’s personal account. He would have drawn on it, he normally only carried around fifty pounds in his wallet.

  There was a bang on the front door, and she heard her daughter’s voice through the letterbox.

  ‘Mummy, it’s me!’

  ‘Where?’ she responded. ‘I can’t see you.’

  ‘I’m outside the front door,’ Melissa shouted, rattling the letterbox at the same time.

  ‘No, that can’t be you. There’s a leprechaun outside the front door, not my Melissa!’

  ‘Mummy, it is, it’s me!’

  Rosie headed for the door. ‘Let me check before I let you in. I don’t want any leprechauns in my house.’

  She carefully opened the door, and Melissa barrelled in, followed more sedately by Rosie’s mother.

  Rosie hugged Melissa, and whispered ‘welcome home’ into her ear.

  She lifted her head. ‘Thank you for bringing her back, Mum. I was missing her.’

  ‘No problem,’ Angela Harmer smiled; the smile clearly aimed at building bridges with her daughter after their telephone argument. ‘I think she was ready to come home. It’s been lovely having her, thank you. I’m not going to stay, your father wants to go to the theatre, so we’re having a meal in town, and then on to the Crucible.’

  ‘Have a lovely evening, Mum.’ She escorted her mother down the path, and watched as she drove away, before returning to her daughter, rifling through the fridge to see what was to eat.

  ‘Is Daddy back?’

  Rosie was stunned. ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘Is he coming back? Nanny Angela doesn’t think he is.’

  ‘We’ll have to wait and see, won’t we? I’m sure he’ll come home one day, when he’s tired of travelling.’

  Melissa turned to her mother. ‘Is that what he’s doing? Travelling?’

  ‘I think so. He’ll be able to tell us all about it when he comes back to us.’

  Rosie was aching inside. She hated lying to Melissa, and in that moment, she realised she had also been lying to herself. He wasn’t coming back. Had he had another woman apart from Liz Chambers? It seemed strange because there had only been a couple of weeks between him telling her about Liz, and his disappearance. He had clearly loved Liz; surely, he hadn’t found someone in two weeks with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life?

  She stifled a sigh and moved on to the subject of food. They agreed on pizza, and Rosie took one out of the freezer.

  ‘Shall we eat off our knees, and watch a movie?’

  Melissa nodded enthusiastically. ‘Mamma Mia.’

  Rosie laughed. ‘We’ve watched that at least ten times.’

  ‘I know,’ Melissa responded. ‘Good, isn’t it?’

  She bounced on to the sofa, leaving her mother to sort out food, DVD and drinks. She was glad to be home, even if Daddy hadn’t managed it yet.

  Halfway through watching Mamma Mia, Rosie heard the distinctive sound from her mobile phone telling her she had an email. She pushed the fleecy blanket covering both of them to one side, and stood to get the phone from the dining table at the far end of the room.

  Liz Chambers. Rosie wanted to smash the phone against the wall, and realised quickly that she probably would have done if Melissa hadn’t been there.

  She opened the email and saw words that had been on her own mind for weeks.

  Did you report Phil as a missing person? If you didn’t, maybe you should. It seems strange that there has been no contact from him for such a long time. I realise it is none of my business, but has he accessed his bank account since he went missing?

  She pressed the home button and made the email disappear. She didn’t want Melissa catching sight of it. Moving back to the sofa, Rosie once more snuggled down beside her daughter. She saw nothing else of the film; her mind was on other things. It was all very well Liz saying report Phil’s disappearance to the police, but they would think it pretty strange that she had waited all this time before notifying them.

  They wouldn’t understand that she had a firm belief that he wanted time out from their marriage; she felt deep inside that he would come home, if not for her, then for Melissa.

  The closing credits of the film pierced her brain, and she stood. ‘Time for bed, sweetheart. Go get ready, and I’ll come and tuck you in.’

  Melissa looked a little disgruntled, but knew her mother wasn’t as easy to manipulate as Nan Angela; she decided not to try.

  ‘Read to me?’

  ‘Not on your life, young lady. You do your own reading now.’

  Melissa attempted a frown, and kissed her mother before going upstairs.

  ‘Five minutes,’ Rosie called. ‘So, don’t mess about.’

  She carried the plates and leftover pizza through to the kitchen, scraped the food into the bin, and took out a bottle of wine.

  She needed it.

  Chapter 15

  Liz received no reply from Rosie; she hadn’t really imagined that she would. If the roles had been reversed, she would have ignored such an interfering message.

  She returned to work on the Tuesday morning with no further contact on either phone from anybody.

  Oliver was waiting
in her office; the surprise must have shown on her face.

  ‘Did you want me?’

  ‘No, you’re fine. I needed to put some paperwork in the pending drawer. And I wanted to check that everything is working out for you. That it’s not too much with Jacob being so young.’

  ‘No, I’m fine.’ She smiled. ‘Jake’s childminder is really good with him, so that fact alone stops the worry. Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘Please. Shall I do them? There’s only the two of us; Tom had an early court job.’

  She laughed. ‘He hates anything before eleven, says he doesn’t wake up till ten at least. And thank you, I don’t take sugar.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Oh, sorry, I say it automatically. I forget how long we’ve known each other.’

  ‘Twelve years,’ he said as he turned away to use the coffee machine. ‘You came to me, to us, when Daniel was really young.’

  She looked at him, sensing a change in the tone of Oliver’s voice, but he said nothing further.

  She sat down and switched on her computer. While she was waiting, Oliver finished making the coffee and placed hers carefully on her desk.

  To her surprise, he touched her shoulder. She savoured the subtle fragrance of Creed as he leaned towards her. ‘Enjoy. I need to go through the Farnsworth case with you later. I’ll ring when I get to that point. And is the Latimer money sorted now?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, suddenly uncomfortable. This was a different Oliver. She decided to cover herself.

  ‘I organised getting them to sign a form saying they had received the second cheque, because they hadn’t paid the first one in quickly enough. I thought it would cover the practice, just in case. I also thought it might make them get it paid in, and close the file off properly. It’s ridiculous having that amount of money and not paying it in. I’ve no idea if it’s been deposited yet, but that form explains what’s happened. Was that okay?’