10
Through the multicoloured panes of glass, it was impossible to make out the features of the woman who had just rapped on the front door but the shock of platinum blonde hair shone like a warning beacon that Jo recognized at a glance. Already disappointed that the caller wasn’t her husband, she faced greeting someone she could do without seeing right now. However, her shoulders slumped only briefly and by the time she opened the door, her head was lifted high and she wore the smile on her face like a mask.
‘Oh, my poor, poor girl,’ Liz cried, dropping shopping bags on to the floor as she stepped into the house to give her daughter a hug.
‘You should have warned me you were coming down.’
‘What, and have you or Steph find more excuses to keep me away? Your dad is due back later tonight so he can keep the shop going for a change. When Steph mentioned that everyone would be here tonight, I had to come and see for myself how you were coping.’ Liz pulled away to have a better view of her daughter. ‘And from the look of you, not very well at all. You look awful, Jo. Have you been to see the doctor yet?’
‘Yes and she’s signed me off for two weeks,’ Jo replied solemnly. She had tried to argue with her GP that her state of mind would not improve being cooped up at home with nothing to do except wait for news, but the doctor had insisted and Jo hadn’t helped by bursting into tears. She had no choice but to accept that she wasn’t ready to return to work. Her entire life seemed to be in the hands of others now and the arrival of her mum would only add to her subjugation.
‘Did she give you anything?’
‘Medication? No way. I’m pregnant, remember.’
‘I’m well aware of that, Joanne. It makes this whole sorry mess all the more heartbreaking. I don’t know how you’re going to manage. I’ve been reading up on this kind of thing and it doesn’t look good.’
Jo held her breath and tried to count to ten, only managing to get to three before her mum found more words of balm. ‘If they don’t find a body then you’ll be left in financial limbo for seven years. Seven years, Jo.’
‘Yes, we know all this.’ Steph came out from the living room to rescue her sister. It was Wednesday afternoon and for the last three days, Jo hadn’t had a moment to herself. David’s disappearance had made local news on Monday evening following the press conference and various interviews with the media and despite Jo’s initial reservations about Mary Jenkins, she would have been lost without her. She had been there to hold Jo’s hand through the whole process and eventually, Jo had been ready to grasp it. The information released had focused on the concern for David’s welfare and so far there was no suggestion, publicly, that he might have planned his disappearance in advance. The withdrawal of cash was information that hadn’t even been shared with the wider family yet. Jo had wanted some breathing space to come to terms with the news and find her own theories before being bombarded with everyone else’s.
‘She won’t be able to access his bank accounts or even sell the house until the police get their finger out and find out what’s happened to him,’ Liz continued.
Steph closed the living room door and lowered her voice in the vain hope that her mum would realize they could be overheard. ‘The whole point of putting Jo through this media circus is to get some answers, or better still, get David home again where he belongs,’ she said. Liz looked as if she was about to say more but Steph didn’t give her the chance. ‘Jo, why don’t you go and make Mum a cup of tea?’
Steph gave her sister a look that promised that by the time she returned, their mother would have been better advised on how to comfort her youngest daughter. The last thing Jo needed was someone reminding her that the nightmare she had been plunged into could endure for years to come. If David had vanished without a trace then she was well aware that she would have a very long wait before there could be a presumption of death and only then would she be able to take control of his finances and manage his estate. Up until that point she couldn’t even do something as simple as cancel his mobile phone contract.
Jo had armed herself with all kinds of information including websites and support groups that would help her through the legal and emotional maze while Mary Jenkins had tried to reassure her that it was too early to resign herself to a life living with the unknown. Mary regurgitated some of the statistics Jo had already come across but quoting odds wouldn’t solve her problems. Only tracing David would allow her to face the future, even if that was a future without him.
After only one week, Jo was already willing to accept that David had left her. She had even reached the point where she felt ready to face the news that he had killed himself or died by some other means; willing to accept any answer as long as it was a definitive answer and not an endless stream of questions.
By the time Jo had made the tea, her mum was ensconced in the living room, squeezed in between Irene and Steph on the sofa. Lauren was sitting on one of the armchairs which left only one seat for Jo, the one she hadn’t wanted to sit in tonight of all nights. She looked up at the starburst clock which Irene had helpfully found batteries for after noticing it wasn’t working.
‘I don’t think she should be on her own tonight,’ Liz was telling Irene.
‘You’re not staying here, are you?’ Jo asked, almost slopping the cup of tea as she passed it to her mum.
‘You’ve still got a guest room, haven’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Jo said, her jaw clenched as her mum scored another direct hit on her emotions. She had been dropping hints for David to turn it into a nursery for the past month, but he had said he needed time to come up with ideas. There had certainly been enough money in his account for lavish plans but it would seem that David had had another purpose for his cash all along.
‘Good.’
Jo took a breath to say more but then there was another knock at the door. She should have learnt by now not to build her hopes up, it was probably only Steve, and yet her pulse raced to a different conclusion, as it did whenever there was a knock at the door or the telephone rang.
‘Sorry we’re late,’ Steve said, ‘Luke was playing up.’
Luke was Steve and Sally’s four-year-old son and he was part of the reason Jo had become so broody, but then David had been just as besotted when his nephew arrived into the world. ‘Where is he?’ Jo asked, preferring to direct the question to Steve’s wife, Sally, rather than the man who had sworn to her that David would never leave her only to tell the police an entirely different story.
‘He’s with my mum,’ Sally said as she stepped into the house to give Jo a hug. Despite her petite frame, her embrace was fierce. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Jo. I can’t believe this is happening.’
‘Me neither,’ Jo said as she was released from Sally’s grip, only to find Steve ready to wrap his arms around her. She tensed up. If David could be this cruel then she held out little hope that his brother would prove to be the better man and tell her why he had suddenly changed his view about David’s disappearance. What did he know now that he didn’t know then? She waited until they were both slipping out of their coats before she said, ‘Although, Steve seems to think it’s entirely plausible.’
Steve looked from one face to another as the two women waited for an answer. The way he ran his fingers through his hair was achingly familiar and forced Jo to look away. ‘I’m just as flummoxed as everyone else,’ he began. ‘I can’t believe Dave would put you through this.’
‘But?’
‘But he didn’t want to be a dad yet, Jo. You know that.’
It was the first hint that Steve knew how their surprise pregnancy hadn’t been as much of a surprise to Jo as she had been letting on, but before she could say anything, Sally cut in.
‘Only because he’d been listening to you droning on about it being too much like hard work,’ she said. ‘Don’t listen to him, Jo. Hard work or not, David adores Luke, more than Steve does sometimes, and when he comes home – and he will – he’s going to make a great dad. He wouldn’t a
bandon you or the baby you’re carrying.’
Jo wasn’t sure what was worse, hearing those convinced her husband wasn’t capable of walking out on her or those who added weight to the evidence that he had. She was saved from having to agree or disagree with Sally’s optimism by Irene’s voice.
‘Is that you, Steve?’ she called. ‘The news will be on soon!’
When Jo returned to the living room, everyone shuffled around to make space for the new arrivals. Lauren lifted her eyes briefly from her phone as she found a place to sit on the floor before leaning back against the mantelpiece and resuming her texting. Sally sat down on the vacated seat and when Steve propped himself on the arm of her chair, she moved away slightly as if she didn’t want to be near him. It was clearly going to take more than a family crisis for the warring couple to present a united front. Jo returned to the armchair that had imprisoned her exactly one week ago.
‘I was just telling the others that I’ve come bearing gifts,’ Liz said, delving into one of her shopping bags. ‘I’ve been putting my time to good use while your dad’s been away.’
‘Wow, that’s gorgeous,’ Steph said as her mum unfolded an exquisite handmade quilt and bumper set. It was made from a patchwork of pretty patterned squares in shades of yellow that ranged from summer sunshine to buttery cream.
Despite her mum’s various failings, she was an accomplished crafter with a good eye for colour and detail. Unfortunately, Jo wasn’t in the right frame of mind to appreciate her efforts and couldn’t quite mirror her sister’s enthusiasm, not with Steve’s words still ringing in her ears. ‘Yes, it is,’ she managed.
‘I’m not treading on your toes, am I? Did you have something else in mind for the colour scheme?’
‘No, do what you like in there.’ After months of growing excitement, Jo couldn’t bear the idea of bringing her newborn baby home to what could be an empty house. She couldn’t face it.
‘Great, because I called into a couple of the charity shops on Allerton Road on my way over and I’ve picked up a few bargains. This mobile is brand new and still in its box and the sunflowers match perfectly with the appliqué on the quilt, don’t you think?’
Liz showed off the mobile which had dangling bumble bees chasing after half a dozen bright yellow flowers with even brighter smiles that matched the ones Liz forced from everyone in the room except Jo who could manage only a grimace.
‘The news is on,’ Irene announced, cutting through the polite murmurings over the baby things.
The next hour was spent glued to the TV as they waited for the public appeal to air on one channel before switching over to hear the same report from a slightly different angle. They were still broadcasting the statement Jo had read out, her voice catching on her direct plea to David to come home. The second news report included brief interviews with friends and family and, as they watched Irene break down in front of a reporter, the sound of her sobs was echoed in the room and continued long after the programme had moved on to another report. Liz patted Irene’s hand but raised her eyebrows as she cast a glance towards Jo.
‘Time to switch it off, don’t you think?’ Steve said.
Jo tried to nod but her body was so tense that she could barely move. She had sat through the same news items for three nights running now and there was nothing new to report. Their efforts to entice David home again had so far failed and Jo had had enough.
‘A week tonight he was on his way home,’ Irene sobbed as she took a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. ‘Oh Jo! If only you had gone to collect him from the station, we wouldn’t be going through all of this.’
‘I did offer.’
Irene stole a glance towards her daughter-in-law as she bit her lip but it was too late to take back the accusation. ‘I know, I didn’t mean to blame you, Jo, but if only we could put the clock back,’ Irene said and even Jo couldn’t resist the urge to follow her gaze towards the pointed shards of the clock. ‘Where would he have been right now?’
Jo’s jaw clenched and the tendons in her neck pulled taught. Her lips cut a thin line across her face and when she closed her eyes she could see the ghostly image of a starburst. She squeezed her eyes tighter still and then saw only red. ‘I don’t want to do this, Irene. I don’t want to relive last Wednesday night – and I certainly don’t want to torture myself with what might have been if I’d made different choices.’
‘How’s half term going?’ Liz asked her granddaughter after an uncomfortable pause. ‘I hope you’re not spending all your time on that phone … Lauren?’
Lauren looked up, only vaguely aware that her name had been spoken. ‘Did you say something, Nan?’
‘Lauren, for God’s sake put that thing away,’ snapped Steph. ‘Your family need your attention now, not your friends.’
Her daughter huffed. ‘I’m not talking to my friends as it happens. I’m on Twitter, helping with the campaign to find David.’
‘How in God’s name is twittering, or whatever it’s called, going to help?’ Steph asked.
‘Well, the police think it will. I’m asking loads of famous people to retweet the appeal. Someone somewhere might see it who knows something.’ Lauren jutted her jaw in a gesture that reminded Jo so much of her own determination – or should that be arrogance?
When the two became ensnared in a staring competition, Liz interjected. ‘So how are you getting on with the Wicked Stepmother costume, Lauren? Jo?’
Irene blew her nose, more loudly this time. ‘How can you expect Jo to think about such things at a time like this? I know life goes on but how can we even look to the future until we know where David is? He’s out there somewhere and life can’t go on for us, not until we find him.’
‘Yes, I know that, Irene, but Jo needs something to distract her. She’ll drive herself crazy if she has nothing to do except sit and think about what your son has done to her,’ said Liz sharply.
‘Mum’s right,’ Jo said, the statement surprising her almost as much as it did her mother. Jo didn’t want to be consumed by the black hole that had appeared in her life. She wasn’t Irene; her husband hadn’t died, or at least … ‘What if he doesn’t want to be found?’ she asked.
‘He loves you, Jo, you and the baby,’ Irene said weakly.
Jo was shaking her head. With each passing day, another layer of emotion had enveloped her like a shroud and she didn’t know from one minute to the next how she would feel. At that moment it was a smouldering anger, which couldn’t be directed at the one person who deserved it most and was burning through her veneer of civility. All it would take was one misplaced word and she didn’t care if it was laced with accusation or quilted in comfort.
‘He loves you,’ her mother-in-law persisted. Jo’s eyes snapped across the room to Irene’s other son. ‘That’s not what Steve thinks and I’m starting to think he’s right! What if David’s been planning this ever since his wife came off the pill without telling him? What if he thinks he shouldn’t have to take responsibility for the baby his wife chose to have when he’d said he wasn’t ready? And what if he’s been withdrawing lots of cash for weeks so he could pull off this little vanishing act?’ Her eyes shot back to Irene. ‘What if your son was sitting in front of a TV tonight watching his family breaking down in front of the TV cameras and still didn’t have the courage to tell me to my face that he’d had enough?’
In the awkward silence that followed, Jo’s ears strained for the sound of footsteps at the door but angry words couldn’t conjure up David, just as gentle words had failed before them. Jo had endured a full week of misery and there was no sign that it would end any time soon.
11
Staying at home waiting for news that never arrived was torturous, pure and simple. When there were people around, Jo had been desperate for them to leave and eventually they had. Her mother went back to Kendal, to run the family business that needed to thrive more than ever while her daughter’s finances were in such dire straits. And, with a distinct lack of news, everyon
e else had no option but to return to their normal lives too, or in Irene’s case, to keep her own vigil should David decide to turn to his mum rather than return to his wife.
But when Jo found herself on her own, it was even worse. She had nothing to do but keep her house obsessively clean until it was hard to believe that anyone lived there at all. It had been years since she had been allowed to indulge freely in her compulsions but it was a preoccupation that brought her a measure of comfort as long as she felt able to control it and not the other way around. After two weeks, however, she could feel that balance of power slipping away from her.
Her life had been put on hold. She couldn’t go back, she knew that, but she was struggling to see a way forward either when there were so many unknowns. The only thing she could do was sift through the wreckage and pick up the scraps of her life that still survived, and she tried to view a return to work as a positive move as well as one of necessity.
The night before she was due back was a restless one. At one point she didn’t think she would sleep at all but in the next she could feel herself waking up. She heard a noise and when she recognized it for what it was, it made her blood run cold.
She kept her eyes closed as she listened to the shower running. When the noise stopped and the door opened a cloud of warm steam wrapped around her, making her skin tingle. She held her breath and a moment later felt David’s warm lips on her forehead sending an electric current through her body and making her eyes snap open. Grey light filled the empty room and when she turned her head towards the bathroom door, it was slightly ajar, leaching dark shadows rather than clouds of steam.
The Missing Husband Page 11