The Disappeared

by Amy Lord

  ‘Major Jackson, madam. Darius.’

  She smiled. It looked real enough to me. ‘Darius.’ She was wearing an oversized dressing gown, the belt tight around her slender waist. When she moved the fabric shifted; I saw a flash of skin on her inner thigh and felt the heat rising in my own cheeks.

  ‘Could I get you a drink, Darius?’ There was an intoxicating lilt to her voice. I remembered from the files that she was born in Italy and had moved to Britain with her family as a child. The first time I saw her, I remember thinking she was too alive for this grey place.

  ‘Clara, sweetheart. Make the Major a cup of tea, please.’

  The girl was in the corner of the room. I didn’t see her until she stepped forward into the kitchen, eyes black in her narrow face. Where her mother had olive skin and soft curves, she had her father’s pale, angular complexion. She glared at me as she passed.

  I knew they had a child, but I’d never seen her during my long evenings of surveillance. I couldn’t recall seeing her the night we arrested her father. I wondered if she was here somewhere, if she saw. A flicker of guilt sharpened in my chest.

  But she was calling me and my attention returned to more pleasant things. ‘You must call me Lucia. Madam makes me think of my grandmother.’ She smiled at me, eyes sparkling, and pulled out a chair for me to sit on. ‘I hope I haven’t grown her whiskers.’

  The girl banged a cup down in front of me, milky tea sloshing out onto the table, dark little eyes needling me. She made me uneasy. I had the feeling that she didn’t miss much. But she was quick to hide her arms, which were covered in bruises.

  ‘I understand you work in a theatre, Lucia.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, yes I do. I work in the offices now, but when I was young, I was on the stage. I loved the lights, the rustle of the crowd in their seats, taking everything in.’ Her eyes took on a faraway quality. I could almost feel her sadness as she glanced at the child. ‘But these things, they can’t last forever.’

  I wanted to reassure her, even as I longed to see her standing bright in front of her audience. No doubt marriage and pregnancy had forced the career change. ‘That’s probably for the best. It can be difficult to live life so… publicly.’

  She gazed at me with sad eyes. ‘Life on the stage does bring with it so much attention.’ I could hear in her voice how much she missed it. ‘Things are different once you have children.’

  I struggled for words but the right sentiment evaded me. ‘Much better to live a quiet life, to dedicate your time to the needs of your family. That’s the best thing a woman like you can offer society.’

  As soon as the words left my mouth I knew they were wrong and I tensed, angry at myself. I didn’t want her to think me uncultured. She wasn’t made to be a mother, this one, she was made to shine.

  The girl continued fidgeting in her seat, throwing me sullen glances every once in a while. She looked like she needed a good wash. She had nothing of her mother’s grace. All of it, wasted.

  I left as the light began to fade. The driver would be waiting for me around the corner, where I had left him, studiously completing the crossword puzzle in that week’s newspaper.

  She touched my arm as I crossed the threshold and I felt faint.

  ‘Goodbye Darius.’

  Her tongue curled around my name and I shivered. I wished her goodnight and began the slow walk to the lift. When I turned back, she was standing in the doorway watching me go.

  *

  The following evening I collected her in the car. She had agreed to join me for dinner at a fancy restaurant the commander had introduced me to. It was a favourite of his wife, who adored the sleek, industrial-style decor and the high ceilings adorned with expensive-looking chandeliers. It was popular with the city wives, those that could afford it.

  But I began to regret my choice of restaurant as I got dressed. There was no way to know if it had swayed Lucia to spend an evening in my company, or whether she actually cared for me. As I knotted my tie, I told myself firmly that it was me she was interested in.

  As we followed the hostess to our table, I could see Lucia gazing around with wide eyes. She tugged at the hem of her plain black dress as we walked past a woman whose cerise outfit hugged every one of her enhanced curves. Light glinted off the diamonds at her throat. I grew tense as Lucia dropped her head. Her outfit was clearly the best she had, but it was nothing next to what the other women in the room wore.

  We sat down and the hostess tottered away on her stiletto heels. She was quickly replaced by a waiter, who handed us each a menu.

  ‘Madam,’ he nodded to Lucia. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’

  Before she could reply, I said loudly, ‘We’ll have a bottle of white wine. What can you recommend?’

  He turned to me and rattled off a list of French wines. I caught sight of the wine list and winced inwardly at the prices, but gave him a fierce smile and ordered the most expensive one.

  He gave a little bow and hurried away. Lucia gave me a shy smile and bent over the menu, studying it carefully. I watched her read, but she didn’t look up. Perhaps she was aware of my gaze; I thought I noticed a faint blush rising up her throat.

  The waiter returned with the wine. He opened the bottle carefully, offering it to me. I waved for him to pour her drink first. He filled our glasses and slotted the bottle into an ice bucket. Then he noted down our orders and disappeared back to the kitchen.

  We made small talk over the wine, but we never got to enjoy our food. Before the waiter could bring it, my phone rang. That was never a good sign.

  Lucia fell silent as I answered, watching me with her kohl-rimmed eyes.

  When the conversation ended, I smiled weakly. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m afraid there’s been an… incident. We’ll have to leave; I need to get to the office.’

  I swear she held her breath. I knew she was thinking about her husband; she was worried that something had happened to him. A rush of anger hit me full force.

  Hands trembling, I forced the mobile phone back into my pocket. Hearing it ring, the other patrons in the restaurant had turned their heads toward me. They couldn’t help themselves, the sound so unfamiliar, dredging up memories of a different world. Now few people outside the Authorisation Bureau carried them.

  As we made our way outside, people avoided my gaze, dropping their eyes to their food. Conversations fell silent as we passed by. I steered Lucia to the car, my hand in the small of her back, a knot of emotion burning in my chest.

  She climbed in first, sliding across the seat to make room. I stared ahead as the driver whisked us back to the city, not taking anything in except her body beside me. As she stared out of the window, she worried the ring on her third finger.

  The driver pulled up outside the block where she lived and opened the door.

  ‘Goodnight,’ she whispered, twisting her legs to climb out of the car.

  I reached over and gripped her upper arm impulsively, drawing her back inside.

  ‘It’s not him. It’s not him.’

  Her eyes met mine in alarm. I let go, feeling the touch of her skin sear into my fingertips. She stared at me, caught like a wounded bird. Then she nodded. Her hand brushed my knee – so softly I might have imagined it – and she was gone.

  As we drove away, I turned to watch her through the rear window. She stood at the entrance to the building, watching as we drove away into the night.

  *

  At headquarters, it was chaos. The place was on high alert. We were stopped at three checkpoints before we were even permitted to enter the compound. I had to exit the car while the guards searched it. They searched the driver too, forced him across the bonnet as they checked he wasn’t carrying anything suspicious. We stood together as they ran mirrors underneath the car.

  After fifteen minutes, we were cleared to enter the building.

  ‘I’m not sure when I’ll be back,’ I told the driver. ‘It might not be until morning.’

  His face was impas
sive as always. ‘I’ll be here, sir.’

  I left him sitting in the front of the car, staring at the wall with a cigarette in his hand.

  The noise inside the building was unbelievable. It sounded like a riot was breaking out on the cell floors. I grabbed the arm of a young soldier as he rushed past me. He jolted to a halt, baton clutched in his hand, breath thundering.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’

  ‘Sir?’ He looked at me.

  ‘Why does it sound like the prisoners are about to break out of their fucking cells and massacre us?’

  He looked afraid. ‘You’d better speak to the commander, sir. I’ve got to go.’

  He bolted down the stairs, as screams echoed up from the bowels of the building. I pushed on towards the commander’s office, hand poised on the grip of my gun.

  I found him pacing his office, red with fury as he screamed into the faces of three sergeants. They stared into the middle distance, trying to let the abuse roll over them. I looked at the man closest to me; his eye was twitching.

  The commander finished his tirade. ‘Now get the hell out of my office you useless fucking bunch of bastards.’

  I waited until the three men had left and the commander had taken a few breaths. I let him pour a generous measure of whisky. ‘What’s the situation, sir?’

  ‘It’s a right fucking balls-up, Darius. That’s the situation.’ He swallowed the liquor in three long gulps and poured another. ‘Three bombs went off in the city, all of them at checkpoints. Dozens of men wounded. And to bloody top it off, turns out one of the prisoners brought in earlier this evening was a fucking plant. He played dead in the van with the bag squad, gets into a cell and goes mental. Before they can restrain him, he grabs a gun off the guard and shoots three men in the face. Fucking mess. Not to mention they almost kicked him to death before someone with a brain stepped in and pointed out that he might have some useful information.’ The second drink disappeared as quickly as the first. ‘The prisoner’s in the infirmary in a coma with bleeding on the brain. Meanwhile, I’ve got three dead soldiers in a cell, bloody bits of brain up all the walls, and every checkpoint in the city in chaos. And the rest of the scum down there are trying to rip the cell doors off and get their hands on whoever happens to be passing by.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve got good men dead. Bloody waste.’ This time he didn’t bother with the glass, just stuck the bottle straight between his lips. I stared at the monitors over his shoulder. It was like watching apes in cages rattling the bars, teeth bared in frenzy.

  The commander fixed his narrow eyes on me. ‘And you, where the fucking hell have you been all night?’

  I coughed. ‘I was off duty, sir.’

  He was in my face then, whisky fumes burning my nostrils. ‘Off duty? I know you were fucking off duty, Darius. But that doesn’t mean you get to be unreachable.’

  He was so close to me I could see the broken veins in his nose, the yellow tinge to his eyes. I lowered my gaze.

  ‘I was… on a date.’

  He was incredulous. ‘A date? There’s a major fucking incident occurring, and you’re out on a date. In all the years I’ve known you, Darius, you’ve never once taken a woman on a date. I know you fuck them occasionally, and I’m sure they enjoy it, but you don’t make nice.’

  I was on fire. I wanted to punch him in the face, to see that fat nose burst open.

  ‘This is different, sir.’

  He came even closer, forcing me to meet his eye. He lowered his voice. ‘Well, I hope it was worth it, son. But right now, you belong to me. Got it?’

  He spun away, guzzling again from the whisky bottle as he brooded over the screens. ‘I want to know who was involved in this.’ He turned to thrust a finger at me. ‘Now, you get down there and break some fucking heads.’

  Fifteen

  It was mid-afternoon the following day before I left headquarters. I was exhausted, but so wired I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. And there was only one thing I wanted to do.

  The driver was still waiting for me in the underground car park. I had no idea if he’d been there all night or if he’d slept, but he looked as sharp as usual. He took me home, where I showered and changed my clothes. Instead of the uniform, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper. I spent fifteen minutes fiddling with my hair in front of the mirror, slicking it one way, then the other. In the end, I gave up and went out.

  Walking to the theatre where Lucia worked cleared my head. The streets were busy with additional patrols and I nodded to the soldiers.

  I waited outside, staring up at the windows hoping to catch a glimpse of her there. The sun was beginning its descent, the light fierce when she emerged. I had to shield my eyes as she made her way down the stone steps. She didn’t see me waiting across the street. I watched as she reached into her bag and began rummaging around, pulling out her purse.

  When I called her name, she looked up with a start. I jogged towards her. Her hair billowed in the breeze; she pushed it back away from her face, clutching her bag to her chest.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ She sounded uncertain.

  ‘I wanted to apologise for leaving so abruptly last night,’ I said. ‘And I hoped I could make it up to you. Would you mind if I walked you home?’

  There was a pause. ‘I think… that would be fine.’ She gave me a small smile.

  We turned in the direction of her home, walking side by side. A few minutes passed by in silence. There were so many things I wanted to say, but even in my own head they sounded ridiculous. She looked at her feet as she walked, both hands holding tight to the strap of her handbag. I watched her out of the corner of my eye.

  When we reached the end of the street, she automatically went to turn right and follow her usual route home. I touched her arm; it was like being electrified. I felt her muscles tense beneath the press of my fingertips.

  ‘Let’s go this way instead.’ I pointed in the opposite direction. ‘There’s a footpath along the river.’

  She thought for a long time before she answered. I could almost see her turning each word over carefully in her mind, wondering if I might take offence.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.’ She tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘It’s not safe down there. Something bad might… happen.’

  She implored me with her eyes.

  ‘It’ll be fine, you’re with me.’ I felt a surge of confidence; enough to reach out and take her hand, pulling her along behind me.

  The path that led to the river was overgrown. I pushed aside branches that threatened to scratch our faces.

  ‘Watch your feet.’ There were the cracks in the concrete where tree roots had broken through. She stepped carefully, still holding my hand.

  When the narrow path ended in a flight of stairs, I encouraged her downwards. The steps opened out onto an old towpath that ran alongside the river. The water was still. Office buildings lined the river bank opposite, empty windows staring down at us.

  We carried on walking, enjoying the silence. Somewhere in the distance, there was a screech of tyres. Raised voices carried through the air, before falling away.

  ‘It’s peaceful here,’ Lucia said softly. ‘I never realised. I thought it would be full of… people.’

  I laughed. ‘You mean you thought there would be tramps or kids from gangs everywhere, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting passers-by.’

  She blushed. ‘Perhaps something like that…’

  ‘Not many people come here. There’s no reason to. This path doesn’t go anywhere. And the view was much nicer… before.’

  She looked around, eyes exploring the dilapidated buildings and empty passageways. ‘Don’t people live here?’ We were walking past a row of apartment blocks that had been built in the days before the old government fell apart.

  I shook my head. ‘The builders finished work, but no one ever moved in. The apartments became too expensive; not many people had that kind of money to burn.’

 
She looked at me brazenly. ‘So why didn’t you choose to live there? You decided where people should live, took their homes away. You could have had your pick, surely.’

  I met her eye. ‘Most of us don’t live in the city. We didn’t think it would be safe. And the committee wanted something nicer for their families. They reward those of us that do well with a house in the country.’ I laughed. ‘The old status symbols still apply.’

  She went quiet. ‘They made us move away. I never understood that.’ She gazed up at the abandoned block. On the surface it remained a desirable place to live, but look close enough and you could see the scars: the shattered windows, the crumbling brickwork, the loose tiles.

  ‘I loved that house.’

  I stood behind her. ‘I’m sorry you had to leave it behind.’

  She didn’t respond. My stomach dropped anxiously. I couldn’t tell if I had upset her. She began to move forward, without acknowledging my apology. I followed a few steps behind her, reluctant to push too hard.

  Her pace quickened and for the first time I was aware of her breath, swallowed by the silence. Abruptly she stopped and spun round to face me.

  ‘Are you sorry for my husband too? For taking him away?’ Her eyes blazed. She was close to tears. ‘You keep coming to see me, trying to be kind, and I don’t understand why. Do you expect me to be able to look at you without remembering that you took Matthew away from me?’

  The tears overwhelmed her. Her bag fell to the ground as she pressed her hands against her face.

  I wrapped my arms around her. She felt so small, the curve of her ribs shivering against my chest. But she didn’t pull away. Instead she pressed her cheek against my shoulder.

  ‘I was just doing my job, Lucia. I know it seems awful to you now, but you have to understand that people like me, we’re here to protect you. We only arrest people as a last resort. And those people, they’ve done something bad. Matthew knew the rules when he started down this path. He chose to leave you; I didn’t choose to take him away.’