by El Edwards
Jonathan had begged and pleaded with me to change my mind and when that hadn’t worked he reverted to pissed off but no matter how much he railed against the unfairness of the situation, I’d held my ground. ’Til death do us part, we’d vowed, but turning a blind eye to a bit of skirt on the side definitely hadn’t been a part of the deal.
I turned the key in the lock and gave the door a shove. “Hello?” I listened for the girl’s voices and was instead greeted with the sound of feet coming down the stairs.
“Mum! You’re home!” Louise appeared first and gave me a hug.
“Hi love, how was your day?”
“Great! Grace is in a right strop though.”
“Why, what happened?” My heart sunk. If Grace was in one of her moods it was going to be a very long evening. I’d never met twin sisters who were so different. Both the girls had times when they missed their dad but for Grace, it was almost like she took it personally. And it was totally my fault of course.
“Dunno. You know what she’s like.”
Not wanting to appear to take sides, I decided not to say anything. But yes, I did know exactly what she was like. I just wished there was something, anything, I could do about it.
I smiled at my daughter. “Come and see what you fancy from the freezer for tea.” Gordon Ramsey I was not but I offered a great range of bake in the bag fish (cook from frozen, obviously) and my chips were to die for.
With the oven preheating I decided I could put off facing Grace no longer. I climbed the stairs, listening for sounds of life from her bedroom but the door was shut. When knocking gave no response I pushed the door open gently and poked my head round the door.
“Hi Gracie, I’m home.”
“Well obviously,” came the reply from a heap in the middle of her bed.
“You going to come down and have some dinner? What do you fancy?”
“Not hungry.”
“You need to eat something love.” I sighed. We went through this routine daily. “Did you have a hot meal at school? How about a sandwich or something?”
When she didn’t reply I took a couple of steps into her room and sat on the edge of her bed. Peeling back the covers I came face to face with a headphone covered scowl. I smiled and wiggled my eyebrows at her and after what felt like a lifetime, she gave the barest hint of a smile in return. I mentally whispered a thank you to whichever gods were apparently watching over me that day. The crisis was over and normal service could resume.
“So what will it be?”
“I’ll have a sandwich in a bit. Thanks Mum.”
Content that the rest of the evening could proceed happily, I left her to it and turned my attention to the oven, thankful that we’d used up our quota of domestic disputes for the day. Fingers crossed.
FOUR
Waiting for dinner to cook, I decided now was as good a time as any to check the phone for messages. Twenty-seven seconds later though I was seriously regretting my decision. My mother had the ability to make even the most resolute tee-totaler turn to a stiff drink and ever since Jonathan had left us, she’d only gotten worse. On a good day I would remind myself that it was only because she cares that she sticks her nose into every minute detail of my life. Today however was not a good day. Today had been a very long day and with Grace feeling a little delicate it was only going to get longer.
“Hello love, it’s only me, your mum.” A pause, as if she were waiting for me to pick up. “I guess you’re not there. I don’t know why you bother yourself with a telephone love, it’s not like you ever answer it. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to pop over with the girls, maybe have a spot of dinner. Give me a ring back when you have a minute.”
Not only was she a hopeless cook, there was no way I was going to inflict my two to dinner with my mother on a school night. She couldn’t be trusted not to say something completely inappropriate and embarrass one or even both of them. Nope, not today thank you. I pressed delete and shuddered. I’d have to call round and see her myself, I knew that, but anything was better than dinner.
I sniffed the air. Shit! Dinner! The fish would be just about edible if I covered it in a boat load of mayo but the chips were completely beyond redemption. There was only one thing for it, we’d have to scrounge some food from the pub.
“Girls?” I stood at the bottom of the stairs and shouted. Mumbled replies told me they could hear me. “I’ve had a bit of an accident with the chips. Do you fancy food in The Bont?”
It was a stupid question and the sound of rapid movement followed by a pair of faces at the top of the stairs told me just how silly a question it really was. Grace, who until now hadn’t been hungry, was the first to make it downstairs.
“I thought you weren’t hungry?” I said with a smile.
She shrugged. “Am now.”
We waited for Louise to put her shoes on before the three of us linked arms and headed in the direction of the village pub.
Jonathan and I had moved to Gloddfa Bont when I was pregnant with the twins. I’d thought about moving the three of us somewhere new after he left, but having vowed not to make any hasty decisions, I promised the girls we’d give it six months. After the initial shock and gossip had died down, staying turned out to be brilliant for us and now there was little we enjoyed more than a meal together down the local. Even Grace had a smile on her face by the time I pushed the door open and led them inside.
It wasn’t until I woke up the following morning that I remembered why we rarely went to The Bont for dinner on a school night. I’m not much of a drinker but, being far too easily swayed by my teenage offspring, I allowed myself a small glass of red. If I’d stopped at the one or remembered to have a pint of water when we got in, I wouldn’t be staring down the barrel of the migraine from hell but alas. The three of us functioned on autopilot that morning. Me, with the responsiveness of a slug and them, barely holding back the tears of laughter as they watched me struggle. Swines!
After waving them off to catch the school bus I made myself another coffee and curled up on the sofa with my laptop. Missy padded in and soon made herself comfy on top of my feet and I mentally checked slippers off my Christmas list. The next hour passed happily with me reviewing my notes from the day before. There was something quite unsettling about Abigail Rogers; I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was yet. My thoughts were interrupted by my mobile. For a split second I considered letting it go to voicemail but after glancing at the screen to confirm it wasn’t my mother, I took the call.
“Hello? Charlie Diamond speaking.”
“Is that plumber?” The voice on the other end of the phone was male and sounded like he thought he’d dialled a wrong number.
“Yep, speaking. How can I help?”
“But you’re a bird.”
I looked down at my fluffy PJs, considered making a comment about my lack of feathers but then changed my mind.
“Did you have some sort of plumbing situation that you needed help with sir?”
“Ai. It’s me shower. It’s stopped working and missus needs to get to bingo. I’d do it me self but need to get to work.”
“Will your wife be home in about an hour? If you give me the address I’ll come round and have a look at it for you.”
“Champion. Thanks lass.” He gave me his address and then hesitated. “Sorry about the bird comment.” Before I could reply he’d hung up.
At some point I knew I’d have to knock the plumbing business on the head. I was getting far busier with investigations and at least no one questioned my ability to do the job when they hired me to find their nearest and dearest, well, not very often at least, but there was something quite satisfying about the physicality of plumbing. Plus it was an excellent cover for when I wanted to go snooping around. No one gives you a second glance when you wander around looking official, you become invisible.
I drained my coffee and got dressed in my plumbing uniform of polo shirt and combat trousers, tied my hair back in a quick ponytail
and, hangover forgotten, was out the door in ten minutes flat. Abigail wasn’t expecting me until later that afternoon so with a bit of luck I could fix the poor lady’s shower and still have time to nip back for lunch. If only my doubts about Abigail could be quite so easily resolved.
FIVE
When the door was answered by a young, thin woman I almost asked if her mother was home, she certainly didn’t match the image I had of the bingo playing wife of the man on the phone, but thankfully years of putting my foot in it gave me an element of caution.
“Hi, I’m Charlie Diamond, plumber?” I indicated to the bag in my hand. “I’m here about your shower.”
“Oh thank goodness! Come in, come in.” She stood to one side. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. It’s been playing up for a little while, the knob was all stiff, you know?”
“Sounds like the valve’s gone.” I hovered in the hallway waiting for her to show me to the bathroom.
“Would you like a cup of tea or something?”
I smiled. It was the unwritten rule of employing tradespeople that they must be offered beverages on arrival. “Not for me thanks. Just had one. Let’s take a look at this shower shall we?”
I followed her up the stairs, zoning out as she waffled on with apologies for the mess. I went to a job once where the bathroom had been so throughly cleaned before my arrival, the fumes made it impossible to work for about half an hour. Give me a couple of hours and a decent Internet connection and I was fairly confident I could build you a minor explosive device out of the contents of most people’s cleaning cupboards.
As anticipated, the bathroom was immaculate with a faint whiff of lemon in the air. I hid my smile and got busy with the shower hose. Five minutes later I was back downstairs and saying my goodbyes.
I handed her my card. “If it happens again, give me a ring and I’ll pop back.”
“You mean it’s all done? What was wrong with it?” The woman looked surprised but relieved. I knew that look. It was the look of someone who’d been expecting a huge bill.
“Looks like your shower valve is on its last legs. If you come up to the bathroom I’ll show you what to do if it happens again.”
She watched as I unscrewed the hose and gave a little poke around with my finger. “When the valve goes for real the water will stop. When that happens, ring me.” I pointed at the card in her hand. “It’ll be cheaper to replace the whole shower unit so I’ll order one in and keep it safe until you need it.”
“Okay I will. Thank you!” She showed me to the door. I knew I’d be back in about a week’s time, maybe two if she was lucky, but I couldn’t justify fitting a new shower today when it was all working again. I climbed into the van and glanced at the dashboard. Thanks to that quick job I definitely had time for lunch before meeting Abigail but first, I decided to do a loop back round to the white house I’d been staking out. I knew that if I was patient enough I’d be sure to catch someone going in or out of the property. Waiting around for hours yesterday hadn’t brought me any luck so maybe it was time to change tactics. This was my bread and butter that paid the bills while I played with the fun stuff like missing people. A bit tedious but totally necessary.
An hour later I was home again. I’d knocked on a couple of doors, peeked into the letterbox, and even found my way round the back so I could press my nose up against the glass but nobody had seen anything or anyone for days. If this had been in the rough part of town I’d have convinced myself they were all lying but they couldn’t be in cahoots, could they? I shook the thought from my head and turned my attention to lunch. Cheese and onion toasted sandwich, the lunch of champions. The toasted sandwich maker had probably seen better days but having decided that a few germs were good for building up the immune system, I cut the sandwich in half and took both it and my phone into the front room. Ignoring Missy’s dinner dance (she seemed to live in hope that I’d one day drop the whole lot on the floor and determined to improve the odds by dancing under my feet any time I came into the room with food) I settled on the sofa.
In between bites I tapped on my phone, searching for anything newsworthy related to one Toby Rogers. There was a short article in the local paper dated around the time of his disappearance and a frankly terrible company photograph on a website that looked like it was circa the turn of the century. The photo was so awful, I couldn’t even be sure it was the right man but made a note to check with Abigail when we met. Otherwise, Toby Rogers was the invisible man. No social media profiles to stalk. No public records. If he’d chosen to disappear, he’d been very thorough. When a quick search on the Companies House website drew another blank I decided to call it a day and instead go and speak to the woman herself.
As I drove out of the village towards Abigail’s house my thoughts turned to yesterday’s meeting. She’d been so sweet, adamant that theirs was a happy marriage. I wanted to believe her, if you couldn’t trust your client, what basis was that for a working relationship? There was something niggling at the back of my mind though, something that I just couldn’t shift. What loving family man in his right mind would just vanish like that? And if he didn’t vanish, surely the police would have had some kind of breakthrough by now? And who would want to harm an invisible man? Something didn’t make any sense and I feared that even after I went through some of the details on the form I’d left her overnight, I’d still have more questions than answers.
I pulled up outside Abigail’s house and hesitated before getting out of the van. The excitement of a new case had given way to the jitters. I knew I had to pull myself together, I just wasn’t sure I was ready for another onslaught of love’s young dream and happy families. I took a deep breath, walked up to the front door and was about to give it a gentle tap when, from somewhere inside the house, I heard a scream.
SIX
I banged on the door. “Abigail? You ok?” I banged again, all thoughts of a gentle knock chased out of my head by the scream. I peeked through the letter box but couldn’t see anything so I banged again and then looked at the door, deciding where the best point would be to make contact. One good kick should do it. I didn’t really want to have to break her door down but felt a certain duty of care. Before I could decide on my next course of action though, the door swung open to reveal a sheepish looking Abigail.
She smiled when she saw me. “Charlie, good of you to call round. Come in won’t you?” She stood to one side so I went in and followed her into the lounge. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Are you okay? I heard you scream.” My heart was still racing and I couldn’t just sit there and pretend nothing had happened.
“Yeah, sorry about that. It was a spider.”
“A spider?” I wasn’t buying it.
“I’m ‘fraid so. They terrify me. It ran across my foot when I was in the kitchen doing the dishes.”
“Didn’t you hear me banging? I made quite a racket.”
“Did you? Oh. Sorry. I had the radio on.”
Something about this was weird. I turned my attention to the reason for my visit. “Did you have time to take a look at the paperwork I left you?”
“Absolutely. I filled it all in last night after story time. Didn’t want the children to see me upset so thought it best to leave it until after they were safely tucked in.”
I nodded. “Very sensible. May I take a look?”
She stood up and went to a small desk behind the door that I hadn’t noticed before. She took a little key out of her pocket and carefully unlocked one of the drawers, pulled out a stack of papers and handed them to me.
“I found some bank statements, bills, that kind of thing. Just in case it was helpful.”
“Do you mind if I take these with me? I’ll return them when I’m done.”
“Of course, take anything you need.”
I’d go through her form properly later. For now I wanted to hear more about her life since he’d gone. I needed to find a way in, an angle. “So how are you doing Abigail? With him being gone all th
is time. You mentioned the children. How old are they?”
I knew I was babbling, filling the silence while waiting for her to latch onto something I was saying so she could run with it.
“We’re okay. I mean, it’s not great, especially for Alexander. He misses his dad. But Lucy doesn’t seem to have really noticed.”
“Alexander’s the oldest?”
She nodded. “He’s six. Lucy’s three. In fact …” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “You can meet her if you like? She finishes pre-school early on a Thursday.”
“Sounds good. If you think she’d be okay with that?” The last thing I needed was to cause a tantrum.
Abigail smiled. “She’s very laid back our Lucy. Seems to take everything in her stride.”
“Great!”
Abigail stood up and started busying herself with shoes and a coat.
“Oh, you mean right now?” I’d hoped we’d have a little more time to chat without children.
“If we leave now we can walk instead of taking the car. We can talk more on the way.”
“Walking it is then.” I wasn’t usually much of a walker but if walking helped her relax and maybe open up a little, that had to be a good thing. I followed her as she led us along the leafy road. The sun was shining but the air was crisp and I was glad I’d brought a coat.
“Have you lived here long?”
“Just over six years. We moved here when we found out I was expecting. Toby wanted somewhere quieter for the children, away from the noise and pollution of a big city.”
“And before that?”
“Cardiff. We met there, in university, and never had a reason to leave. Well, until the kids.” She shrugged.