The seemingly benign pile of damp wood roared into life and Jo marvelled at its beauty, which had immersed the rest of the garden in flickering, golden light. She turned to Lauren whose face glowed orange and her flame-coloured hair shone. Her niece’s eyes were wide with wonder.
‘I didn’t expect it to take hold that quickly,’ Jo said. She had a smile on her face as she basked in the warm glow from what was, effectively, the incineration of her marriage.
‘We should have brought some potatoes to bake.’
Jo looked at the narrow gap between the shed and the bonfire. She could just make out the lights from the kitchen beyond the wall of fire. ‘Maybe we’ll wait for it to die down first,’ she said as she looked deeper into the dancing flames, which seemed determined to draw David back into her life despite herself.
She stamped her feet and almost expected to feel the crunch of snow. Above the crackle of burning wood she could hear fireworks whizzing above her head and, although she knew she was in Beaumont Avenue, she could just as easily have been in Iceland, enjoying another of those life-affirming trips that David was intent on fitting in before family life clipped his wings. This one had been last New Year and was meant to celebrate Jo’s thirty-first birthday but, try as she might, Jo hadn’t been in the mood to celebrate.
The memory couldn’t be eviscerated as easily as David’s worldly goods and she heard his voice first …
‘Dance with me, Jo,’ he had called to her.
‘I’m too tired. If we’re going to be climbing glaciers tomorrow then I’m going to need my beauty sleep.’
‘We’ll have plenty of time to sleep when we get back home to tame, old England. Dance with me, Jo.’
‘Dance with yourself,’ she had shouted and through the red and orange ribbons of fire, she had watched in disbelief as her husband began to waltz around the bonfire, arms clasping an imaginary partner, chin lifted. She had laughed when he had sneaked a hand down to squeeze the behind of the invisible woman, but as he moved towards her, she was already digging her heels into the snow.
‘You can be so stubborn sometimes,’ he had said when he was close enough to whisper in her ear.
Jo had held her tongue even though she wanted to remind him of how magnanimous she was being. The year in which they were meant to start a family had come and gone and, other than the occasional reminder to her husband that their family plan had been postponed rather than cancelled, Jo had ignored the ache in her arms to hold their baby. She had supported him as he came to terms with his father’s death and silently watched the world map in the study fill with red pins.
She had pushed him away. ‘You dance.’
‘Stubborn,’ he had repeated.
‘Yes, and I don’t know why you put up with me,’ she had said, knowing why he did.
David knew she did too but had said it anyway. ‘Because I love you, Jo Taylor. I love you, I love you, I love youuuuu,’ he had sung as he danced away from her.
Jo had felt a flutter of excitement as she watched him. If she was being forced to postpone having a baby for the sake of a holiday, then she should at least be enjoying it. She had raced after him and leapt on his back bringing a yelp of surprise from both of them. He had held on to her and twirled her around as they laughed together …
The laughter Jo was trying to recapture caught in her throat. She still loved David – her heart wouldn’t be told otherwise – but her hand was reaching inside her pocket to touch the evidence that suggested he might not feel the same. Unable to bear the presence of the damning letter for a moment longer, she took out the crumpled piece of paper and flung it into the flames where it was hungrily devoured. She wished she could destroy the memory of his words as easily. She wished she could have just one more chance to talk to him, to remind him how much they loved each other, and to find some way for them both to make amends for their mistakes.
As Jo stared into the flames, the wind changed direction and clouds of black smoke billowed around her. Jo’s eyes were streaming as she tried to summon her husband again from amongst the dancing shadows. To her surprise, she saw movement then blinked, not trusting what she was seeing. When the smoke began to clear, Jo’s heart leapt.
‘Did you see that?’ she asked Lauren, gripping her niece’s arm tightly with one hand and pointing over towards the house with the other. She was sure it had been the silhouetted figure of a man walking past the kitchen window.
Lauren followed Jo’s gaze but the wind had blown new life into the flames and the gap between the shed and the fire had been reduced to nothing. ‘See what?’ she asked, wincing a little as Jo’s grip tightened.
The reply came from the far side of the garden and cut through the November night.
‘Jo? Are you there?’
‘David!’ Jo cried and lunged forward. She used her arms to beat a path through the flames and almost made it past the bonfire unscathed until the lingering vapours of petrol caught light on her coat sleeve.
Jo waved her arm frantically but only succeeded in helping the fire catch hold. Flames sucked the oxygen from the air as she stumbled on, more desperate than ever for David to be there to catch her. The searing heat and smell of burning polyester choked the breath out of her lungs. As she gasped for air, panic bloomed in her chest and she was sure her heart was about to explode. Darkness began to creep and then coursed across her field of vision and the last thing she saw before she passed out was a man’s face looming over her.
The acrid mix of smoke and petrol seeped into Jo’s consciousness and triggered flashes of memories so bright they burned the back of her closed lids. She took a gasp of air that tasted of oily soot. Her stomach churned and her eyes flickered open.
‘Are you OK?’ Lauren asked.
Jo was lying on the sofa and she quickly checked her right arm, which had been engulfed in flames. She wasn’t wearing her coat now but her jumper felt rough where the wool had scorched. The skin on her hand felt tender but miraculously she had avoided any serious burns. Her hand moved across her abdomen. There was no pain there, but neither had there been any hint of movement since she had come round. The gentle kick that came a second later should have given her some comfort but it only succeeded in making her stomach lurch. She looked up at Lauren whose face was streaked with soot and tears but it was the face of the man who had come to her rescue that played on her mind. She willed herself to resurrect each and every one of David’s features from the ashes but it was hopeless. ‘Where’s Steve?’ she asked.
‘He’s trying to damp down the fire. We weren’t sure if we should phone for an ambulance.’
‘Have I been out long?’ Jo was heaving herself up and ignoring the speckles of light that threatened to return her to darkness.
‘Only a couple of minutes,’ Lauren said, but her words caught in her throat. ‘I was so scared, Jo. You were on fire and I couldn’t get to you and then you fell. Do you think FB’s OK?’
Hearing that name was like being stabbed by a red-hot poker. ‘Don’t you ever, ever let me hear you call it that again!’
Lauren blinked in shock and her lip trembled furiously. ‘Sorry, Jo. I didn’t—’
‘No, I’m sorry, Lauren. I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault,’ she said, but the sight of her niece’s tears was bringing Jo’s roiling emotions closer to the surface and the scream she had been stifling since finding David’s note was getting difficult to hold back.
She tried telling herself that she had to withhold judgement until she knew exactly what had happened to David, that there was always the possibility that something bad had happened and she would be wracked with guilt for thinking the worst of him, but it was too late: she had already burned that bridge – the ashes were still smouldering in the back garden.
Her body started to shake as if it were a pressure cooker waiting to explode. ‘I’ve had enough,’ she hissed as she scanned the room for something on which to direct her fury.
There was a gasp as Lauren was pushed unceremoniously
to one side and Jo’s heart pounded as she snatched up a framed wedding photograph. It crashed into the wall but the sound of breaking glass was impossible to hear above her screams.
‘You bastard! You selfish, heartless bastard!’
Jo’s eyes were wild with rage as another picture-perfect image was sent flying through the air, crashing against the mantelpiece.
‘Why didn’t you have the guts to tell me to my face that you didn’t want to be here any more? Why couldn’t you have the balls to pack a bag and leave me crying on the doorstep? What did I do to make you hate me so much that you would put me through this? Isn’t it enough that I have to lose you? How could you be so cruel?’ Her last words tore from her lungs with a howl of fury as she ripped the starburst clock from the wall and hurled it towards the door. Steve only just managed to dodge the missile as he rushed towards her. For the second time that night, he made a grab for his sister-in-law, only this time she was far less malleable. He did his best to calm her but he was reluctant to put up much of a fight against a pregnant woman no matter how much she hit him.
‘Please, Jo, it’s all right. It’s going to be all right,’ he was saying over and over again, but Jo wasn’t listening. She was too busy fighting him off as she searched for something else to smash into smithereens.
The battle of wills might have continued indefinitely if Jo hadn’t seen Lauren flee out of the room in terror. She thought about what her poor niece was being forced to witness, and it was that, along with the sound glass crunching underfoot and the mess she would eventually have to clean up, that brought her back to her senses. With one final shove, she pushed Steve away. Her body heaved as she tried to catch her breath between sobs. ‘Why can’t I just hate him, Steve?’ she asked when she could talk. ‘I can’t go on like this! I need to know why this is happening.’
‘I don’t have the answers, Jo. I wish I did.’
Jo shot Steve a look but he wouldn’t hold her gaze. ‘Don’t you?’ she snapped. ‘You changed your story pretty fast when it came time to speaking to the police! What convinced you that David might have left me? Have you seen him, Steve? Have you heard from him?’
Fragments of glass were ground further into the floor as Steve shifted from one foot to the other. ‘I promise you I’ve not seen or heard a thing,’ he said. ‘If you’d told me straight off that he’d taken his passport, Jo, I might have thought differently from the start. It’s pretty damning evidence that he planned to leave, don’t you think? He was finding it hard getting his head around having this baby, and you know how obsessed he was about seeing the world.’
Jo shook her head, trying to make sense of a problem she had tackled a thousand times in the last three weeks.
‘He’s probably on one last jaunt but he will come back, just give him time,’ Steve added. ‘And until then, I’m here for you, whenever you need me. We all are.’
‘I’m not sure your mum would agree. I don’t think she’s forgiven me for my little outburst the other day.’
‘She’s not used to David being the black sheep of the family and she’s struggling to hear anything bad said against him. And she needs her remaining family around her now more than ever. So do you, Jo, especially if David doesn’t show up by the time the baby arrives.’
She squeezed her eyes shut so she didn’t have to face the future. When that didn’t work she opened them again to find Steve watching her. ‘You can do this,’ he said.
Jo was shaking her head as she sat back down on the sofa. ‘I wish I had your faith. The truth is that I’m not going to be able to make ends meet when there’s another mouth to feed. I don’t have access to the little money that’s left in David’s account and my savings won’t go far.’ Jo brought herself up short, aware she was focusing on the finances as if David’s value in her life had only been a monetary one.
‘Have the police frozen his account then?’
‘Not at all,’ Jo said with a laugh that held traces of her previous hysteria. ‘There’s no sign of foul play so all of his accounts and assets remain his for the taking. I’m sure they think he’s holed up with another woman somewhere. Maybe he is. Maybe they’ve run away together.’ She looked to Steve again for hints of deceit. He was so similar in looks to David that it hurt. She had assumed that was where the similarities had ended but now she wasn’t so sure. How ironic that the irresponsible, undependable brother should be the one who had remained by her side.
‘If he’d been up to anything like that then I’d know about it. He wasn’t, Jo.’
‘And you don’t know why he would withdraw so much money?’
Steve was shaking his head as Lauren reappeared at the door. She handed her aunt a cup of tea that was no doubt strong and sweet.
‘Sorry if I scared you, Lauren,’ Jo said softly.
‘Again,’ Lauren added. ‘It wasn’t the kind of firework display I was expecting, that’s for sure.’
‘I’ll make it up to you,’ Jo said. ‘I promise.’
‘I just wish things could go back to the way they were.’ Lauren’s voice shook and she made the mistake of trying to smile but only succeeded in toppling fresh tears.
Jo wanted to offer some sort of reassurance but couldn’t bring herself to lie, not even for Lauren’s sake. ‘There’s no going back,’ she said, bringing forth an image of the funeral pyre in the garden. ‘Not now.’
13
Jo made a concerted effort over the next couple of weeks to prove that her breakdown on Bonfire Night had been a one-off. She had temporarily lost control but she was back in the driving seat and there was no reason for Lauren to worry and certainly no reason for her to say anything to Steph.
‘Lauren, why don’t you see if you can find some gold trim for edging the hem and sleeves?’ Jo said. They were standing in the middle of a maze of tall metal racks, each piled high with folded sections of fabric of all shapes and sizes. ‘We’ll need about four metres.’
Excited that her costume was starting to take shape, Lauren didn’t argue and promptly forgot to adopt her teenage slouch as she skipped down the aisle and out of sight.
‘Do you want to look for anything else while we’re in town?’ Steph asked.
‘Like what?’
‘A new coat for one thing,’ Steph said.
Even though she could only fasten the top button now, Jo had reverted back to wearing her grey cashmere coat after ruining the one from Nelson’s. She had apologized to Gary but felt too ashamed to ask for a replacement. ‘I’m not paying out good money for something I’ll hardly wear – and besides, Mum said she’ll keep her eyes peeled for a bargain for me,’ she answered.
‘Well, what about baby things, then? You’re going to have to start preparing for his or her arrival sooner or later.’
‘I am getting prepared. Steve’s promised to paint the spare room and Sally’s digging out some of Luke’s old baby stuff for me. So there you go, I’m all sorted.’
Steph snorted. ‘I think you’re in for a shock.’
Jo didn’t share the joke. ‘Life has been one big shock, Steph, and I don’t exactly have the money to splash out on anything new. Once this baby’s born then any spare cash I have left is going to have to cover childcare. I’ve been working out the figures and I won’t be able to afford to take more than twelve weeks’ maternity leave. I can’t downsize because I can’t sell the house without David and so I have no choice but to live beyond my means. It’s a complete mess.’ As she talked, Jo was systematically picking up and refolding scrunched-up pieces of fabric, creating neat piles from the chaos.
‘I could always help look after the baby in the school holidays,’ Steph offered. ‘I know it’s going to be a struggle at first but the baby will start nursery in a few years. It’s not for ever.’
‘No, it’ll just feel like it is,’ Jo said, wondering at what point everyone, herself included, had started assuming David’s disappearance and the mystery surrounding it would drag on for years.
The police were
continuing their investigation but hadn’t come up with anything new. They couldn’t even explain what might have been in the carrier bag David had had with him. It could have been wads of cash at the ready for jumping on a plane, or perhaps a house-warming present for the new woman in his life – some champagne glasses to toast their new start; nothing would surprise her any more.
Jo took a step away from Steph and the conversation that was making her uncomfortable, and peered over the metal racks to see if she could spy Lauren, her hand going to the small of her back as a twinge flicked down her spine. There were plenty of people milling around on this wet and windy Saturday afternoon but no sign of her niece’s distinctive ginger locks.
‘How’s work going?’
‘Blissfully normal,’ Jo said, returning her attention to the piles of fabric. ‘Or at least, as normal as it can be while I’m waddling around reminding everyone that not only am I an abandoned wife but an abandoned mother-to-be. I swear the next person who gives me that simpering look of concern is going to get a smack in the mouth.’
Steph pulled a face to hide any telltale signs of compassion that might offend her sister. ‘Missed any more antenatal appointments lately?’ Her hand reached out to pat Jo’s bump but Jo sidestepped the touch and ignored Steph’s furrowed brow.
‘Unfortunately my midwife is almost as much of a nag as you are, so no, I’ve been good.’
‘And you’re doing OK?’
Jo glared at her sister whose eyes were brimming with sympathy. ‘I’m. Fine.’
‘All right, I get the message,’ Steph muttered. ‘Now, are we looking for fabrics fit for a wicked stepmother or are we here to reorganize every shelf in the shop?’
Jo replaced the piece of fabric she had been holding, now neatly folded. Steph gave a nod of approval and, as they continued down the aisle, Jo kept glancing over the top of the racks. Amongst the many bobbing heads, one in particular caught her attention. The hairstyle was achingly familiar and Jo knew immediately how soft that particular shade of brown would feel to the touch. Her heart had made the connection long before her brain and her pulse began to race. Stumbling forward, Jo followed the man as if drawn to a magnet. She bumped blindly into other shoppers as she went, the most vociferous being Steph.
The Missing Husband Page 13