Название | The Missing Husband |
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Автор произведения | Amanda Brooke |
Жанр | |
Серия | |
Издательство | |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007511372 |
‘About?’
‘Something and nothing. I wouldn’t give him a lift to the station, that’s all,’ she said although she was beginning to believe that less and less.
‘Something and nothing,’ Steve repeated as if he was getting a feel for the words.
She had no idea how much David had told Steve about the surprise pregnancy and the friction it had caused in their marriage but she knew from experience that they would protect each other to the hilt. ‘Unless you know otherwise, Steve. If you have even an inkling of why he would do this deliberately then please, please tell me,’ she begged but Steve was already shaking his head. He reached over to give her arm a reassuring squeeze.
‘I’m sorry, I’m as much in the dark as you are, but I will say this: I don’t believe for a minute that Dave would ever leave you, certainly not like this and that’s a hard thing for me to say because right now I’d rather believe that he had. It has to be better than considering other possibilities. No offence meant.’
Jo cleared her throat and gave him a weak smile. ‘None taken.’ The deep breath she took tasted of buttery pastry. ‘What in God’s name is your mum up to now?’
The dining table had been set and three plates of warmed up steak and ale pie awaited them along with replenished cups of tea.
‘Irene, I’m really not hungry.’
‘You need to keep your strength up, if not for you then for the baby.’
Jo wanted to say she didn’t care. Nothing else mattered except finding David but she kept her voice level and said, ‘Thank you, but what I really need is some sleep so I can gather my strength for the police interview later.’
‘But …’
It would never cross Irene’s mind that Jo wanted to be left in peace. If there was a family crisis then the Taylor family pulled the yarn of their tightly knit family tighter still. It was Steve, on his best behaviour now, who took the hint. Jo could almost forgive him his previous indiscretion as he now persuaded his mum that they could make better use of their time by conducting their own investigations. Steve wanted to walk the route that David would have taken home so they could check for any signs that he might have been there. What those signs might be Jo didn’t dare imagine but she was glad of the reprieve.
‘OK, we’ll leave you to it, Jo,’ Irene agreed. ‘Once I’ve seen you clear your plate.’
‘Irene, really …’ Jo began but then pulled herself up short. There were tears welling in Irene’s eyes and in a matter of seconds she was a wreck. Her sobs were heart wrenching and she grabbed hold of Jo and clung to her for dear life.
‘I want my son home,’ she cried. ‘I want him home safe. I’ve lost Alan – I won’t lose David too. It isn’t going to happen. I want this to be over – now!’
Jo had comforted Irene often enough in the long painful days after her husband’s death but as she felt the trembling, limp body of the widow in her arms, she knew she didn’t have the strength to help her now. Just the sound of Irene’s sobs was sending her emotions into free fall. She was being sucked back into the dark abyss she had struggled to emerge from the night before. She simply couldn’t bear to go through that again and looked imploringly towards Steve. He pulled his mum off her.
‘We’ll leave you to get some sleep,’ he said.
Irene was still sobbing but managed to say, ‘We’ll come back later when the police are here.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t, Irene,’ Jo said, looking again to Steve for support. Her in-laws would begin to dissect her marriage soon enough and if she had to reveal more to the police – if she had to reveal everything they’d been through in recent months – then she didn’t want them there. ‘Right now all they need is for me to give a statement. Steph promised to come over when she finishes work so I’ll have someone with me, but I’ll be the one doing all the talking. I think that works best, don’t you?’
‘Jo’s right, Mum. Look how upset you are now, it’s not going to be easy tonight and like Jo says, she’ll have her sister there for moral support.’
Except for the occasional hiccup, Irene had regained her composure. ‘Tell them to check the airports. If he’s taken his passport …’
Jo cast her eyes down to avoid the look Steve was giving her. She felt guilty for not telling him when, in the absence of any other evidence, he had been taking her side, but then guilt was something she was more than used to.
‘And they’ll want to speak to me too,’ Irene continued.
‘They can do that later,’ Steve said, scrutinizing Jo’s face as if that act alone could help locate his brother. ‘Let’s just take it one step at a time.’
Irene nodded. ‘And David could still walk through that door at any moment.’
And it was to the front door that they all headed, each one peering longingly through the stained glass window for a familiar silhouette. But when the door was pulled open, the step held no greater treasure than sodden autumn leaves that squelched underfoot as Irene and Steve said their goodbyes.
Jo’s blouse was still wet from Irene’s tears but her cheeks were dry as she watched them drive off. She closed the door, sealing up her home and containing the emptiness that filled every corner of the house, mirroring the growing void inside her. She returned to the kitchen where three plates remained untouched at the table, the steak and ale pie congealing and cold. Picking up a plate, Jo had to stop herself from launching it against the wall. She didn’t have the strength to face an afternoon clearing up the mess and she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave it. Instead she had to satisfy herself with hurling the uneaten dinner into the kitchen bin, the plate included and to the accompaniment of a choked scream. The second and third plate followed in quick succession, her scream louder and more satisfying each time, heightened by the sound of china shattering into smithereens. It reminded her of her life.
‘I have quite a list of things I’ll need from you,’ DS Baxter warned after Jo had taken him through David’s last known movements. ‘A couple of recent photos, a list of friends, family and any other useful contacts, and details of his employment, his mobile phone and his bank accounts so we can access them. I know it’s a lot but just as soon as you can manage.’
Jo reached over to a small table at the side of the sofa and picked up a wad of papers and a holiday brochure. ‘I think I have most of that here,’ she said handing over everything except the brochure, which she rested on her lap. ‘I’ve also included all the details of the course David attended in Leeds. He was the only delegate from Nelson’s but the course coordinator should be able to provide you with a full list of delegates.’
DS Baxter was occupying the armchair where Jo had kept vigil the night before and she was more than happy for someone else to take her place. The policeman was younger than she expected; his deep voice over the phone had suggested a heavy smoking and careworn detective but despite the receding hairline and deep-set laughter lines, the man in front of her looked the right side of forty still. He scratched at his five o’clock shadow and looked quietly impressed as he leafed through the collection of papers. He glanced briefly at the brochure on her lap then said, ‘Thank you, we’ll start making some preliminary enquiries and check CCTV footage at the train stations and local area.’
‘OK,’ Jo managed to say.
‘We probably won’t need to investigate too deeply. There’s usually a perfectly natural explanation for a grown man to go missing and more often than not they turn up of their own accord.’
‘I hope that doesn’t mean