by El Edwards
“It's my job Mr James.” I handed him my card. “Private investigator.”
“You any good?” He scowled.
“I like to think so. I mean, my track record’s pretty solid. Did you want to take references?”
“Expensive?”
“No find no fee.”
“And if you find him?”
“Five.”
“Thousand?”
“Yes sir.”
He let out a low pitched whistle and then turned to face me fully and smiled. “You’ve got yourself a deal young lady. Now sit yourself down here and tell me what I can do to help.” He patted the space next to him on the sofa.
Wait, what? This was Abigail’s case. She’d already signed a contract. “I’m not sure I understand.”
Mrs James walked in with a tray of tea as I spoke. She laughed. “Oh you mustn’t mind him. He’s helping Abigail with your fee and just wanted to be sure you were up to the job.”
“Oh.”
“And you passed with flying colours.” Mr James sounded delighted. He was so animated I thought he might actually giggle. “But please sit down. I really do want to help.”
I did as I was asked and even found myself accepting a cup of tea. I was more of a coffee drinker but with everything laid out so neatly on the tray, it would have felt churlish to refuse. I already knew a little bit about Abigail’s parents, him a retired headteacher and her, at home with the children, but I listened patiently as they told me stories about Abigail’s childhood. Judging by the furniture, they’d downsized considerably over recent years but I could easily imagine Mr and Mrs James lording it over their neighbours when Abigail was a little girl.
“And that’s how young Toby was able to secure such a terrific position.”
“All thanks to you eh Mr James?” I smiled sweetly, happy to stroke his ego if it meant a way in to Toby Rogers’s work colleagues.
He nodded and puffed out his chest. “All thanks to me.”
“It occurs to me …” I hesitated.
“Yes?” Curiosity piqued, he sat up poker straight.
“I don’t suppose it would be possible to meet some of Toby’s colleagues? It would be a great help. Build a picture of the time leading up to his disappearance.”
“Do you know, I was just about to suggest that.”
“Were you Mr James? Well what a terrific idea!” I hid a smile.
After a challenging start, this was turning out to be a great visit. Carry on like this and I’d have that missing husband home in no time. I patted myself on the back for a job well done and accepted a second cup of tea. What could possibly go wrong?
TEN
After our second cup of tea, it was time for us to visit the site where Toby had been working. There was a little back and forth about who should drive, Mr James being of the opinion that the man’s place was behind the wheel, but having explained how much I’d really appreciate the opportunity to drive so the route would stick better in my memory, he gave in. Being a terrible traveller prone to sickness on even the shortest of journeys, I was secretly relieved and soon had us headed back in the direction of the motorway.
I followed Mr James’s directions as he led us towards another town I’d never heard of somewhere deep in the South Wales valleys. We drove past row after row of squat terraced houses, the windows grimy from decades old soot. This was a town that had never quite recovered from the shock of the pits closing.
“They promised regeneration money but can’t see it myself.” Mr James gestured to the world outside. “Such a shame.” He shook his head but didn’t say any more.
Five miles on we turned down what might once have been a rough farm track but now, thanks to the housing development, sported a brand new tarmac road, complete with waste paper bins and trees planted at regularly spaced intervals. Council regulations followed to the letter. Mr James pointed to a clearing a couple hundred yards up and I parked the van.
“Don’t suppose you brought your wellies?” Mr James asked, pointing to my ballet flats. “Didn’t think so,” he said when I shook my head. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of the lads.”
I picked my way across the soggy grass, mentally congratulating myself for having at least worn black. If I’d worn my baby blue flats I wouldn’t have had a chance of hiding the mud. In the distance I could see what was presumably the show house, dotted alongside the half dug foundations of its neighbours. A couple of machines were in operation but there was also a lot of men standing around talking. If this site was anything to go by, it was no surprise building projects never completed on time.
One of the men looked over in our direction and waved. Mr James waved back. “That’s Bill, site manager.”
“Toby’s boss?”
“Absolutely not.” Mr James sounded huffy. “Toby was, is, a site consultant. He certainly wouldn’t be expected to give account to Bill.” Mr James’s face softened. “Nice chap though.”
When we reached him, Bill held out his hand and smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Trevor, what a surprise! I didn’t know you were coming today.” He turned to me. “And in such fine company. Bill Winkleman. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He offered me his hand and I shook it.
“Charlie Diamond. Good to meet you.” I hesitated, not sure exactly how much of our arrangement I was to share with this stranger.
“Charlie’s helping our Abigail. She’s looking for Toby.”
Bill’s eyes widened. “Really? Oh that’s wonderful. About time someone did something. Poor girl. How is Abigail?”
Mr James shook his head. “As well as can be expected. It’s not easy for her though.” His voice took on the tone of one who has suffered great loss. It definitely didn’t match the picture I had of his daughter.
“I think she’s doing brilliantly!”
Both the men’s heads swivelled in my direction.
“I mean, under the circumstances, but she’s doing great. Really strong.” I turned to Mr James. “If she were my daughter I’d be incredibly proud of her.”
“Well yes I am, both her mother and I are, but …”
“So how about we stop with the poor baby rhetoric and actually start trying to find your son-in-law?” I could feel myself shaking slightly. I didn’t know where that had come from but something about the way the two of them had described Abigail riled me. I held my breath and looked from Bill to Mr James, wondering if I’d totally blown it.
“Right you are young lady.” Mr James smiled at me. “Where should we start?”
“What I’d really like to do is get a better picture of Toby’s movements on the days leading up to his disappearance. Was he here on site full time Bill?”
“How about we have a brew in my office and I can check the diary?” Bill pointed at a portakabin behind him. “I might even have some chocolate biscuits.”
“That sounds great, thank you. What do you think Mr James? Fancy a cuppa?” When I turned to look at him, Abigail’s father was staring into the distance, completely oblivious to Bill’s invitation.
Bill slapped him on the back. “Course he does. Never says no to a cuppa does our Trevor. Follow me.”
I was surprised to find the inside of the cabin was warm and almost plush. One wall had a huge white board with sketches of the site held in place by little magnets and the stack of hard hats in the corner were a dead giveaway but otherwise we could have easily been inside any regular office in town. I took a seat on one of the comfy chairs in what I imagined was meant to be a waiting area and pulled my phone from my bag.
“Do you mind if I record our conversation? So much easier than having to scribble notes.”
“Um, I don’t know.” Bill looked from me to Mr James. “I mean, I can’t really tell you much.”
I smiled, keen to put him at ease. He’d gone from jolly to drawn in the space of five seconds. “Don’t worry, I’m just building a picture of Toby’s movements. You mentioned a diary?”
“Yes, the wor
k diary. Now where is it …” He started opening and closing desk drawers randomly. “These lads, they’re so messy. I’m not sure where they’ve put it. We use it to keep a record of who’s on site. Health and safety. But I can’t seem to find it.”
“Don’t worry about it for now. How about I leave you my card and when you find it you can give me a ring?”
“Okay. Sorry, I just don’t know.” He looked from me to Mr James again but the older man hadn’t appeared to notice.
“Do you maybe remember the last time you saw Toby? If not the date, the circumstances? What the two of you worked on?”
He shook his head. “I don’t I’m afraid.”
“Well how about Toby and the men on site? Did they get along? Do you think any of them might remember something that could help.”
“I really couldn’t say. It was such a long time ago. Staff change.” He shrugged. “Now if there’s nothing else, I really should get back to work. Nice to see you again Trevor.”
The two men shook hands and before I could say any more we were back in the van, heading towards the James’s house, all mention of tea and biscuits seemingly forgotten. I didn’t know what had just happened but one thing was certain, I would definitely be making a return visit without my client’s father. Not only did I need to speak to Bill again, there was a whole team on site. Who knew what they might be able to tell me. One thing was sure, Bill’s reaction made no sense at all and I was keen to find out why.
ELEVEN
After dropping Mr James home, politely declining his offer of more tea, I decided it was time to head back to Gloddfa Bont via Abigail’s house. I needed to keep her updated on my progress, that was my excuse at least, but what I really wanted was to get a glimpse of life for the mum of two when no one was watching. By the time I’d navigated the now busy motorway and pulled up outside Abigail’s house, it was starting to get dark. I could see lights on in the house and the outline of little people in one of the rooms upstairs. I turned off the engine and just waited. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for but I still couldn’t shake the feeling I had about her. I was about to get out of the van and knock on the door when my mobile rang. I glanced at the screen before answering and smiled.
“Hi Grace. You okay love?”
I listened as my daughter complained about the lack of food in the house. I really needed to go shopping but the last few days had been so busy, I simply hadn’t got round to it yet.
“Could you make yourself a toasted sandwich?” I listened to more gripping. “Just to tide you over until I get home. Won’t be long now.”
I was about to suggest she make one for Louise at the same time but before I could speak again she’d hung up. I sighed. No doubt there’d be yet another argument and I wasn’t sure I had the energy for it. With one last glance at the house I decided updating Abigail could wait until after the weekend. It was late o’clock on Friday and I needed a quiet relax with my girls. I put the van into gear and headed home. The reality of a weekend together never quite seemed to match the picture in my head but it was nearly Christmas. I had to believe there was something vaguely festive we could do together that wouldn’t result in world war three.
It was as I was mentally sorting through the list of options that my phone rang again. I pressed the button to answer it using the handsfree kit. “Look Grace, I’m on my way. If you could just ….”
“Charlie?”
Jonathan? I felt my stomach flip at the sound of his voice. “What do you want?”
“Lovely to hear from you too love.”
“I’m not your love. I haven’t been your love for twenty-two months.” And thirteen days. Not that I said that out loud of course. “So don’t ‘love’ me. What do you want?”
I could hear Jonathan laughing at me. I hated it when he did that. He knew he was winding me up and he was enjoying every single second of it. I just didn’t know how to stop myself reacting to him.
“Well, what do you want?” I counted to three in my head and was about to hang up when he spoke.
“I wondered if you and the girls had plans this weekend?”
“Plans? Of course we’ve got plans. We always have plans. Plan central, that’s us.” I paused. “Why?”
“I’ve got tickets for a show in Cardiff, bloke in work bought them and now he can’t go so he gave them to me.”
“What show?”
“Mary Poppins. It’s meant to be spectacular.”
“Are you doing jazz hands?” I could tell he was doing jazz hands. I felt myself weakening. I loved Mary Poppins, he knew that of course.
“Maybe. So, what do you think?”
“I’d have to ask the girls.”
“Of course.”
“Because we have plans we’d need to change.”
“Understood.”
“Okay, well I’m almost home. Let me talk to the girls and we’ll give you a ring back.”
“Deal.”
By the time I arrived back in the village I’d planned our full itinerary. There was a lovely French place in the Bay where we could have food, maybe even sit outside if they had patio heaters. I’d have the beef. He’d have the fish. Just two old friends and their children having dinner together. It didn’t have to be awkward.
I opened the front door and listened for the sound of warfare. Hearing none I took that as a very good sign and headed towards the kitchen.
“Grace? Louise? I’m home.” I sang out in a cheery voice, all the exhaustion of the day swept away by the prospect of a fun day out in Cardiff.
By some minor miracle, not only were the girls not quarrelling, they were actually sitting together at the kitchen table eating toasted sandwiches. Even more miraculously, the kitchen countertops were clear of mess and almost sparkling.
“Who are you and what have you done with my children?”
They laughed obligingly and I listened as they filled me in on their respective days before telling them about their father’s invitation.
“Mary Poppins? Brilliant!” I knew Louise would be pleased but even Grace smiled and said it sounded like a laugh.
I was about to tell them about my ideas for dinner when the phone rang again. A glance at the screen told me it was Jonathan so I put him on speaker.
“Jonathan? Good timing. I’ve just told the girls. They’d love to come!”
The girls made a great display of gushing and saying all the right things and I could hear Jonathan laughing.
“Great! Well I’ve got to go now girls but I’ll see you tomorrow. Say around eleven?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll set an alarm.”
I smiled to myself. They both sounded so happy. I was glad the two of us could be grown up like this.
“Okay. Me and Tricia will be in the estate and it’ll be a late one so feel free to bring a pillow in case you want to snooze on the way home.”
Wait. Hang on. Who will be in the what now? My stomach lurched for the second time in less than an hour and I cursed myself for being so stupid.
TWELVE
The following morning at eleven o’clock on the dot, Jonathan pulled up outside the house and, with a toot of his horn, called my two beautiful girls to him. I wanted to beg them to stay, to coerce them with promises of Christmas shopping, reminders of how much fun we'd have but of course I didn’t say a word. Instead, I plastered a smile on my face, kissed them goodbye, and waved until they were out of sight. Only then did I allow one solitary tear to fall down my cheek. Pity party over, I drowned my sorrows under a hot shower before making myself pancakes and bacon for breakfast. I wasn't much of a cook but pancakes with bacon was my signature dish.
After hoovering the house, reorganising the fridge and walking the dog, it wasn’t until the thought of decluttering my sock drawer made me smile that I realised I had to get out of the house. It would be hours before the girls were home and I was driving myself crazy. Driving aimlessly around the countryside just for the fun of it wasn’t really my style so
I took a peek at my inbox in case there was anything new that could distract me and nearly danced for joy when I saw an email from a law firm in Cardiff asking me if I’d help them track a potential client. Like me, they worked on a no win no fee basis. Unlike me, they rarely took on a case before first getting the inside scoop. It wasn’t the most exciting gig in the world but it paid the mortgage and was just the distraction I needed to fill an otherwise empty Saturday.
As luck would have it, the address of the client in question was just around the corner from Bill Winkleman’s site. I didn’t expect to find any of them working on a Saturday but it wouldn’t hurt to snoop around a bit. I decked myself out in my plumbers issue polo shirt and combats and, after making a flask of coffee, headed to the van. Thanks to the sat nav on my phone I found the address easily. I pulled up a little way back from the house on the opposite side of the road and did my best to look invisible. Gone are the days of hiding behind broadsheets, peeking over the top when you think no-one is looking. Thanks to the law banning mobile phone use while driving, it was now easier than ever to sit at the side of any public road and be completely unapproachable, as long as you mastered the art of making fake phone calls. It could lead to a terrible case of arm ache but when it came to staking out a client’s house, there was nothing better.
After an hour of holding my phone to my face though, even I was starting to get a little restless. I’d also drained my flask and found myself in dire need of the little girl’s room. I thought lovingly of Bill’s office, certain that for a site of that size there had to be a toilet and without thinking, put the van into gear and headed straight there. Of course no one would be working, of course the toilets would almost certainly be locked for the weekend, but just in case, it didn’t hurt to try. The alternative was finding a large bush to squat behind and I definitely wasn’t dressed for that.
By the time I found my way back to the site and over to Bill’s portakabin, I almost wept with relief to see a few figures dotted around the site. I knocked on his door and walked in without waiting to be invited. Bill turned and looked surprised to see me.