‘So tell me FB,’ she said softly. ‘Which would you prefer? That your daddy abandoned you or that he didn’t live long enough to see you born into the world?’
In the absence of an answer, she listened to her body, which ached from her toes, along her spine, right to the top of her skull, the deepest concentration of pain pooling in her heart. She stretched her neck and looked up at the map on the wall. It was a monument to their life together with a cluster of green pins around the Mediterranean and a thinner scattering further afield. Until she had met David, Jo hadn’t been much of a traveller. It wasn’t flying that bothered her but the stress of preparing for every eventuality, from delayed flights to missing passports. It negated any benefit in getting away at all, especially when Jo spent most of the holiday worrying about catching the flight home.
To remedy his wife’s anxiety, David wouldn’t allow Jo to become involved in any of the arrangements. He didn’t even tell her the times of the flights. He had the plan and she followed it. It worked so well that David became more and more adventurous. She could clearly remember the time he had announced they were going somewhere a little more exotic than they were used to. How could she forget?
‘Vietnam?’ she had stammered, still blinking in disbelief at the piece of paper she had pulled from inside the card. It quivered in her hand.
David, lying next to her in bed, had leant over to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Happy birthday, sweetheart.’
Jo was still looking at the list of instructions he had given her that would take them halfway across the world but it was the timeline rather than the destinations that had occupied her thoughts. ‘In six months’ time?’
‘It’s a bit more expensive than our usual trips but I’ve been saving up especially.’ He had wrapped an arm around her and slid down the bed so he could take in the look of astonishment on his wife’s face. Tears had sprung to her eyes.
Jo had blinked them away. ‘But wouldn’t the money be better spent on other things?’ she had asked.
The meaning had been lost on him. ‘No, I want to spend it on you. I love you, Jo.’
Despite herself, Jo had felt goose bumps prick her skin. She would never tire of hearing him say that. ‘But I’m thirty, David.’
‘I know.’
‘What about our other plans?’ She had waited then for the look of recognition on his face and when it hadn’t appeared she was forced to be blunt. ‘What about having our baby, David?’
For the first time, he had looked a little less comfortable. He had rested his head on her stomach without taking his eyes from her. ‘Isn’t that all the more reason to get in some heart-stopping holidays now, while we still can?’
‘Some? Has this got anything to do with that map you’ve put up in the study?’ Jo had tried to keep her tone light but the sense of disappointment had been crushing.
‘There’s so much out there to see. African plains, rainforests, ancient worlds …’ David’s eyes had lit up as his imaginary globetrotting trailed a blaze across his mind. ‘Life’s too short, Jo.’
Those simple words had wormed their way into Jo’s head and left her body with a sigh of resignation. David’s dad had died only the month before and it was hardly surprising that his own mortality should be playing on his mind. ‘There are no guarantees in life, I know that,’ she had told him. ‘But you were the one who planned out our future, and you were the one who worked out when we would be ready to start a family. I bought into that and I want a baby, David. Our baby. I thought you did too.’
‘Yes, I do. Eventually.’
Jo had looked into his eyes and couldn’t bring herself to crush his dreams, not while he was so fragile. She stroked his hair and did her best to soak up his enthusiasm for the holiday of a lifetime. One holiday, she had told herself. She wouldn’t be so malleable if he tried this again.
Jo’s eyes stung now as she stared at the green pin dotting the ‘i’ in Vietnam. There was no denying she had some good memories of that trip but she hadn’t been sorry to put away her passport. The baby chose now to give her a kick, reminding her exactly how she had drawn a line through his travel plans – a blue line that was meant to bring them more joy than any breathtaking vista – or so she had thought. She pulled herself upright so she could face the computer again.
The next site she visited described in detail the kind of financial and emotional limbo the partner of a missing person could face for years to come. As she continued to read, the guilt that had plagued her for days began to recede. She had committed some selfish acts, putting her needs before David’s, but she would never inflict the kind of torment he was inflicting on her now. David was alive, he was being unimaginably cruel and when the phone rang, Jo was more than ready to direct her growing fury at him.
‘Hi, it’s DS Martin Baxter,’ the policeman said with exaggerated friendliness to counter Jo’s harsh greeting.
‘Have you found him?’ Her heart was pounding; something that happened so frequently that her ribs permanently ached.
‘No, but I would like to call around to the house if that’s all right. I can give you an update and we can talk about the next steps.’
Her lungs deflated and her shoulders slumped. ‘Of course, anytime.’ The anger had disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Only desperation for news remained.
‘How about now?’
‘Oh, OK,’ Jo said realizing that the call had uncovered yet another aspect of her life over which she had no control.
‘And I’m afraid I’ll be coming mob handed. As I think I mentioned to you the other day, we need to carry out a search of your house and garden. It’s nothing to be alarmed about, just standard procedure,’ he said, clearly recalling the earful Steph had given him.
‘I understand,’ Jo said and she did. But that didn’t mean she was happy about it when four police officers marched into her home and invaded her privacy half an hour later, giving her more reason to hate her husband – if only she would allow herself that luxury.
‘We’ll try to make this as painless as possible,’ Martin said, ‘but just so you know, we may need to take some things away, particularly anything we can get a DNA trace from, like a razor?’
Jo nodded. All of David’s things were still there awaiting his return.
‘Good. I’ll give you receipts for anything we do take and while we’ll try not to disturb things too much, I can’t promise that you won’t notice we’ve been here. And you’re perfectly within your rights to watch as these guys carry out the search.’
‘I’d rather leave you to it but if you have to go into the garden can you try not to bring half of it back into the house with you?’ she asked as they all followed her gaze to the faint trail of footprints that had already been left in the hall. A long thin shadow crawled across the floor towards them as someone else appeared at the door.
‘Looks like I arrived in the nick of time,’ Heather said. Tall, blonde and willowy, her friend oozed confidence as she lifted her chin and looked down her nose at the boys – and one girl – in blue. She and Jo made an indomitable pair under better circumstances but today Heather would have to be strong enough for both of them. Jo had called in reinforcements as soon as she had taken the call from DS Baxter and Heather had been more than happy to have something real to offer her friend rather than false hope and platitudes.
‘This is Heather,’ Jo said, catching the smile on her friend’s face and making it her own.
Martin was next with the introductions. ‘This is Mary Jenkins. She’s a family liaison officer,’ he said as a young policewoman stepped forward to shake Jo’s hand.
‘Perhaps we can give you an update while the search gets underway,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, Jo, I’ll keep my eye on this lot,’ Heather said, casting a warning glare at the unfortunate policeman who met her gaze.
Martin wasted no time setting up a laptop on the dining table where Jo and Mary joined him. He began by explaining the positive sightings they had
uncovered and asked Jo to pick out David from a series of CCTV recordings, some in Leeds and some in Liverpool. She was able to confirm from the grainy images that David had reached Lime Street station on Wednesday evening and had managed to catch the connecting train. The very last image was at 20.06 at West Allerton Station. David could be seen zipping up his waterproof coat with the distinctive Nelson logo on the lapel, apparently preparing for the walk home.
‘I don’t know what that is,’ she said, pointing to the large carrier bag he was carrying.
‘We’re going to collect statements from everyone else who attended the seminar. One of them might know more. It looks like he went shopping but there are no bank or card transactions that day to help us which brings me on to the next piece of information we’ve uncovered.’ Martin placed a printout in front of Jo. The uppermost page listed transactions from David’s personal bank account. Along with the payment of his salary into the account and a standing order transferring money over to their joint one, there was a long list of cash withdrawals.
‘Two or three weeks ago, your husband started withdrawing cash, £300 each time. It amounts to £3,000, which as you can see, pretty much cleared the account until his wages went in. Were you aware that he was taking out that much cash? Do you know what it was for?’
By the tone of Martin’s voice, he wasn’t expecting Jo to have an immediate answer and waited patiently for her to draw her own conclusions. It didn’t take long and Jo’s mouth went dry, making it difficult to speak. Mary fetched a glass of water for her and when Jo took a sip her teeth rattled against the glass. ‘It was the money he had been saving up for our trip to America. Part of his dream to travel to all four corners of the world,’ she said eventually.
‘Until you became pregnant.’
‘This proves he’s left me, doesn’t it?’
Martin had the good grace to leave a pause even though the answer was glaringly obvious. ‘It’s certainly a strong suggestion that David was planning something, but he hasn’t used the account since he went missing. And I’m still concerned that your husband’s movements followed a predicted route until he was fifteen minutes from home. For the moment at least I’d like to keep all lines of enquiry open.’
Like a ticker-tape parade, Jo could see each and every one of those lines of enquiry swirling around her.
David had left her to start a new life.
He had suffered a nervous breakdown and was hiding somewhere, unsure what to do next.
He had had some awful accident and was lying dead or unconscious somewhere.
He had been abducted and the kidnappers would be in touch very soon to ask for a ransom.
He had been assaulted and killed.
He had killed himself.
He had left her to start a new life.
He had left her to start a new life.
Jo struggled to concentrate as DS Baxter went on to explain what else they had uncovered. She could hate him now and she didn’t have to feel guilty. About anything.
‘From most of the interviews we’ve undertaken, it still feels uncharacteristic for David to walk out on you like this.’
‘Most?’ Jo asked, surprised that she had the wherewithal to pick up on the subtle nuances of the policeman’s words.
‘His brother has said that David was, if not unhappy, then deeply unsettled by the news that he was going to become a father. He seems to think it’s entirely plausible that David could have run off to escape his commitments and to see through his travelling plans.’
‘Steve said that?’ Jo’s voice took on a higher pitch, and she shook her head, unable to quite believe what she was hearing. Steve had told her in no uncertain terms that David would never leave her. ‘I don’t believe him,’ she managed to say but then her eyes were drawn back to the bank statements laid out on the table in front of her.
‘We’ve checked telephone records too,’ Mary added, perhaps to coax Jo out of what could only be described as a stunned stupor.
‘Yes, sorry,’ Martin added and produced a computer print-out. ‘We’ve got a list of numbers and names and I’d like you to cast your eyes over it and let me know if anything jumps out.’
Jo took the list. ‘There’s nothing since his text to me on Wednesday evening?’
Martin shook his head and then waited patiently while Jo pored over the list that was now trembling in her hand. She could see her own number and a lot of other calls she would have expected: to his mum, Steve and Sally, friends and colleagues. Then she tapped a finger against one particular name. ‘Simon Harrison,’ she said.
‘You don’t recognize the name?’ Martin asked eagerly.
She gave him an apologetic look, sorry that this wasn’t the next big clue he had been hoping for. ‘Yes, I do. Simon works for Nelson’s, and David has known him for years; he lives nearby and while I wouldn’t say they’re close friends, Simon has had a bad time recently and David went to see him, to let him know his mates at work and in the pub were all thinking about him. He was like that. It’s hard to believe but my husband is a good man. Or at least he was.’
Martin cleared his throat before explaining what would happen next. ‘David has been missing for more than seventy-two hours now which means his disappearance has been reported to the National Crime Agency’s Missing Persons Bureau and his details will be added to an international database. Not that we have any indication that he’s left the country. He certainly hasn’t boarded a flight for America.’
‘I suppose that’s something,’ she said with just a hint of sarcasm.
‘And I have to be honest with you, Jo. As much as I’d like to pull in extra resources to carry out a fingertip search of all the potential routes that David might have taken home, I can’t justify it given the evidence we’ve uncovered so far. My next plan of action, therefore, is to engage the public in the search. I want to hold a press conference and I need you there.’
‘But what’s the point if he’s left me?’ Jo asked, too exhausted to keep afloat all other possibilities. What little strength she had was being used to hold back angry tears.
‘The point is that it’s too early to jump to any conclusions,’ Mary said. ‘Our main concern is that your husband might not be in the best frame of mind at the moment. We need to let him know that you’re looking for him and even if we can’t convince him to come home we might at least be able to persuade him to get in touch. We’ll have a helpline in operation so that if he is out there but not ready to speak to family, he can talk to someone else.’
Jo put her hands over her face. She pressed her fingers against her eyes to staunch the tears, pushing so hard she could see stars. ‘I can’t believe this is happening to me. I don’t want to do this, I really don’t.’ In one final gasp, she added, ‘I just want things to go back to how they were.’
Mary Jenkins put her hand on Jo’s back but Jo recoiled. She didn’t know this woman and the woman certainly didn’t know her. What the police officer saw was a trembling shadow of the person Jo had been four days ago.
‘Sounds to me like you’re the one jumping to conclusions,’ Heather said from the doorway. She was being tailed by two policemen who Jo assumed had had enough of rooting through her underwear. Her friend gestured towards them. ‘They just need to do a quick check of the garden and then they’ll be leaving.’
No one dared to disagree with her.
‘Thanks, Heather,’ Jo said and relaxed a little when she took a seat next to her.
‘So from what I’ve just heard, you think David has run away and is too frightened of Jo to get in touch.’
Heather was looking at Mary but it was Jo who answered. ‘He withdrew £3,000 from his account before he disappeared, Heather. He’s not frightened of getting in touch, he just doesn’t want to. I pushed him into having this baby and now he’s had enough. He’s had enough of me,’ she blurted out. ‘I knew it was too good to last. I’m surprised he put up with me for as long as he did.’ Jo quickly clamped a hand over her mouth to
halt the tirade.
‘He didn’t put up with you, Jo, he loved you. He still loves you,’ Heather said, putting her arm around Jo and steadying the worst of the tremors running through her body. ‘I’m the expert at spotting a man who has stopped loving his wife and I’m telling you now, David adores you.’
‘So you think something happened to him then?’ Jo asked with a note of desperation. Her mind was playing a game of ping pong with the possible scenarios and it was making her head spin.
Heather didn’t sound her usual confident self when she replied. ‘He wouldn’t put you through this deliberately.’
‘Which is all the more reason to make a public appeal,’ Martin said. ‘It’s a way of getting a message to David about how this is affecting you and the rest of the family. And even if that message doesn’t get through, we’re appealing to all members of the public. We want people to know that we’re concerned for his wellbeing and for yours too. Hopefully someone will come forward who had contact with David after he left the station, a taxi driver perhaps.’
‘When?’ she asked with growing dread as she imagined laying her soul bare in front of gawping strangers. ‘When do I have to do it?’
‘We should be able to schedule something for tomorrow. Mary can help you prepare a statement to read out and meanwhile we’ll start contacting the media and spreading the word across social networks.’
Jo had no choice but to agree, which also meant that she wouldn’t be returning to work tomorrow, but then she had been foolish to think she could reclaim even a small part of her old life. With a heavy heart, she looked out of the kitchen window where she could see a policeman opening up the shed at the bottom of the garden. David claimed it was his shed even though Jo did most of the gardening while her husband concentrated on growing a collection of tools. He spent more time oiling and sharpening the scythes and secateurs than he did using them and she had teased him that he ought to have bought toy ones rather than the real thing for all the use he made of them. Was he being childish now? Was he attention-seeking? No, she told herself, that wasn’t the David she knew and loved. But while the pain she felt reminded her that she still loved him deeply, she had to accept that she didn’t know him any more.
The Missing Husband Page 10