The Missing Wife. Sam Carrington

Scrunching her eyes tightly, she did manage to retrieve a vague memory, but only of the woman’s body – her below-the-knee black dress, slim, tanned calves and her feet: pretty gold-painted toenails.

      So, she did remember something about her.

       Cold grass. Tickling her feet.

       She didn’t know where her shoes were.

       She wanted a cigarette.

       A voice behind her.

      Louisa clutched her abdomen as a wave of nausea rippled through her as quickly as the memory had.

      Something bad happened on Friday night. She could feel it.

      It was a feeling she’d known before.

       15

       THE CHAT

       Tuesday – Day 4 post-party

      ‘Hey, Tiff. Are you free for a coffee this afternoon?’ Louisa fiddled with her dressing gown cord, twiddling it in one hand as she held her mobile to her ear.

      ‘Um … I’ve got a meeting at school at lunchtime, so would be towards two-ish, will that do you?’

      ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Louisa gave a dejected laugh. ‘Pop around when you finish.’

      ‘Is everything okay? You sound a bit down.’ Louisa could sense Tiff’s concerned frown.

      ‘I could do with a chat, that’s all.’

      ‘Sure thing. I’ll drop into the shop on my way, get some yummy pastries!’

      ‘You know the way to my heart, Tiff.’

      ‘Of course, darling. Right, must run. See you soon.’ And the line went dead.

      Louisa sighed. She’d felt numb ever since Oliver turned up at the house yesterday; she’d wandered around not really knowing what to do with herself. Being on her own most days, with only Noah for company, was beginning to make her stir-crazy. She should be going to every baby group running because being with other mothers and babies would make her feel as though everything she was experiencing was normal, but she couldn’t shake the awkwardness she’d felt when she’d been to Bounce and Play last time. Forty wasn’t the oldest age anyone had ever had children, but she was the oldest in that group. She was experiencing different things to most of the mums; she didn’t quite fit in, couldn’t relate to all the chat. It appeared the worst of their worries was getting their flat bellies back.

      She could really do with returning to work more quickly than planned, to get back to adult interactions again – avoid baby talk completely. She’d told the accountancy firm that she was taking a full year, but now a few months had passed she was coming to realise that was unrealistic. Yes, she wanted to give Noah the start – the attention – she’d given to Emily when she’d had her, but it was different this time.

      The boss was fine with her taking the full year. Louisa had worked there since leaving college; she was one of the longest-serving accountants at the firm. Whilst other people saw that as an achievement, Louisa knew deep down it was because she couldn’t face changing jobs, learning something new. She could carry out her role there without much thought, running on autopilot, which would suit her just fine when she went back with what Tiff lovingly called ‘baby brain’.

      Louisa checked her phone for texts, then her Facebook, just in case Oliver had messaged, updating her on Melissa’s missing status. Nothing. He’d been all for gaining her help yesterday, begging her to go with him to the police – and now he didn’t have the decency to keep her in the loop. Perhaps she should text him. The thought played on her mind for a few minutes before she gave in to it.

       Any news on Melissa?

      She’d kept it simple to ensure there could be no misinterpretation. Then she paced the lounge, waiting for her phone to ping.

      Twenty minutes went by and he still hadn’t responded. Perhaps she should turn up at his door this time, but she had no clue where his rented flat was. His Facebook account still stated Lives in York. Presumably he hadn’t updated his page since he’d got married either as his relationship status read ‘single’. He’d told Brian that following his whirlwind romance with Melissa, he’d persuaded her to move to York to be with him. Apparently, she was a Devon girl too, although Oliver hadn’t gone into detail about how they’d met and supposedly Brian hadn’t been interested enough to ask. Louisa knew they’d only come back to Devon recently, and that it was temporary – to set up a new branch of Oliver’s business.

      Louisa wondered whether it was because he wasn’t planning on staying long that he hadn’t bothered updating any of his social media. Mind you, she couldn’t deduce much from Oliver’s Facebook page because she wasn’t actually friends with him. She could only see the posts he’d made public – and his profile pictures, which for a reason she’d never fathomed, were always public on the site, regardless. But none of those depicted Melissa, or the two of them together, which was rather odd being that he was newly married. Louisa had thought he’d want to show Melissa off.

      She wondered if she should send a friend request so she could see more information though it was possible, she mused, that he was like her and didn’t use the social media platform much. It may have been something he used purely to get in contact with her.

      The thought made her feel queasy. Why, after all this time, had Oliver Dunmore looked her up?

      Louisa didn’t settle, her muscles tense, jumpy. Pacing seemed to be the only thing she could do. She’d put Noah down to sleep after she’d fed and changed him at one, and he’d gone out like a light. She made sure to put a tick next to the time on the sheet she’d created for today’s feeds, then made use of the time by pottering around in the kitchen. She’d even managed to collect a dirty pile of washing from Emily’s bedroom floor and put it in the machine. Now, at just after two o’clock, she noticed Tiff’s car draw up outside. Louisa rushed to the door before Tiff could ring the bell and wake Noah up; she needed uninterrupted time with her friend.

      ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes.’ Tiff gave Louisa a one-armed hug, her other hand holding a bag of pastries. She walked on through to the kitchen, and retrieved two plates from the cupboard. Tiff often made herself at home and knew where Louisa kept everything.

      ‘I assume you have bottled water?’ she asked, bending to check the fridge.

      ‘Not cold, no – there’s a bottle in the larder, though.’ Louisa allowed Tiff to take over her kitchen. In a weird way, she enjoyed being mothered. Her own mum didn’t visit anymore, and after their ‘falling-out’ episode, Louisa only made infrequent trips to her parents’ home and even then it was only if one of them called, usually to say there was a problem that only Louisa could deal with.

      The last time had been almost a month ago, and that was to change the hallway lightbulb. They’d barely set eyes on Noah – and for a reason Louisa couldn’t understand, didn’t seem all that bothered that they were missing out on his early months. She knew they were getting old now, but she had to admit, their lack of interest hurt her feelings. No matter what they’d fallen out about, their baby grandson should not be the one paying for it. Emily was in the midst of her teenage ‘I don’t want to visit them’ stage anyway, so she wasn’t worried about the lack of contact.

      The argument had been so pathetic, too. Louisa remembered it had started when her mum had made a flippant remark about her anxiety attacks back in college – how Louisa had been poor at coping even back then. But as with most family arguments, she couldn’t remember how it had progressed to this point; how it’d stretched on for years. It was as though now it had begun, one of them had to carry it