Behind Closed Doors: The gripping debut thriller everyone is raving about (24 page)

BOOK: Behind Closed Doors: The gripping debut thriller everyone is raving about
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In my room, I look at my watch. It’s almost eleven o’clock, so five in the afternoon in England. It’s plausible that Jack could already have left for the airport so I phone his mobile and get through to his voicemail. This time I make sure to sound dismayed.

‘Jack, it’s me. I’ve just got back from the trip to the temples, later than expected, and I can’t believe you’re still not answering your phone. I hope it doesn’t mean that you’re still working because you should be leaving for the airport soon, unless you’re already on your way. Could you phone me as soon as you get this message please, just to let me know that everything is on schedule for you leaving tonight? I know you told me you would be “incommunicado”, but I expected to be able to speak to you at least once before you left! And I had hoped to find a message waiting for me on my phone here. I don’t mean to nag, but I’m beginning to get a bit worried by your silence—I hope it doesn’t mean that you don’t want to tell me that you’re not coming until Thursday, by any chance? Anyway, please phone me as
soon as you get this message. Don’t worry that I’ll be asleep—I won’t be!’

I wait for half an hour or so, try his number again and, when it goes through to his voicemail, I leave an ‘it’s me again, please phone me’ message. Half an hour after that, I simply give a sigh of frustration before hanging up. Going over to my bag I take out Jack’s business card and call his office. A receptionist answers and, without giving my name, I ask to be put through to Adam.

‘Hello, Adam, it’s Grace.’

‘Grace! How are you? How’s Thailand?’

‘I’m fine and Thailand is as lovely as ever. I thought you might still be in the office—I’m not disturbing you, am I?’

‘No, it’s fine, I was in a meeting with a client, but he’s just left, thank goodness. It’s one of those cases that I don’t particularly want to take on, but his wife is determined to take him to the cleaners and I can’t help feeling sorry for him—not that I’m letting my emotions get in the way, of course,’ he adds with a laugh.

‘That certainly wouldn’t be good for business,’ I agree. ‘Anyway, I won’t keep you long, I just wondered if you saw Jack at all over the weekend, or at least spoke to him, because I haven’t been able to get through to him and I’m beginning to get a bit worried. I know he told me that he wouldn’t be answering his phone because of the press, but I thought he might pick up for me. Maybe he did for you?’

There’s a bit of a silence. ‘Are you saying that Jack is still in England?’

‘Yes, until tonight, anyway. He’s taking the evening flight, remember—well, at least I hope he is. He did say he might not be able to get here until Thursday, but I didn’t think he really meant it. The trouble is, I can’t get through to him.’

‘Grace, I had no idea Jack was here, I thought he was in Thailand with you. I thought he left on Friday evening, after the case.’

‘No, he made me come on ahead. He said he wanted to get all the paperwork out of the way first, that he couldn’t bear the thought of having to face it all when he came back.’

‘Well, I can understand that, I suppose. There’s nothing worse than coming back from holiday and finding a backlog of work and it’s always harder when it concerns a case that you’ve lost. I guess he must be feeling pretty low.’

‘You could say that,’ I admit. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve never seen him so down, which is why I wanted to stay with him. But he said he preferred to be on his own, that if I was around it would take him longer to get through everything and then we’d both miss out on our holiday. So here I am.’

‘Between you and me, I never understood why he took the case on in the first place.’

‘Maybe he let his emotions get in the way,’ I suggest. ‘But the thing is, Adam, you must have known he was
staying behind because didn’t you offer to take him to the airport this evening?’

‘When?’

‘Well, on Friday, I presume, when he told you he was staying behind.’

‘Sorry, Grace, I’m afraid I haven’t spoken to Jack since Friday morning before he left for court, although I did leave a message on his voicemail commiserating with him over losing. Are you saying that you haven’t heard from him since you left?’

‘Yes. I wasn’t too worried at first because he warned me he wouldn’t be answering his phone and, anyway, I was away on an excursion for the last couple of days. But I expected him to have at least left a message on my phone here at the hotel to tell me that everything was on schedule for tonight. He may already have left for the airport—you know what traffic is like in rush hour—but I keep getting through to his voicemail. I know he won’t answer the phone if he’s driving but it’s really frustrating.’

‘Maybe he’s forgotten to switch it back on again if it’s been off since Friday.’

‘Maybe. Listen, Adam, I won’t take up any more of your time, I’m sure everything’s fine.’

‘Do you want me to phone around a few people and see if they’ve spoken to him at all over the weekend? Would that put your mind at rest?’

Relief floods my voice. ‘Yes, it would, definitely. You could try Esther—when she took me to the airport
she said she’d invite Jack around sometime over the weekend.’

‘Will do.’

‘Thanks, Adam. How are Diane and the children, by the way?’

‘They’re all fine. Let me make those calls and I’ll get back to you. Can you give me your number there?’

I read it out to him from the hotel notepad, which is lying on the bedside table, and sit down on the bed to wait. I try to read, but I find it difficult to concentrate. Half an hour or so later, Adam calls back to tell me that he hasn’t found anybody who actually spoke to Jack over the weekend although several people saw him in the office before he left for court.

‘I’ve also tried him several times myself, but I got his voicemail each time, as did Esther when she tried to get hold of him. But that doesn’t mean anything—as I said, maybe he’s just forgotten to switch it back on again.’

‘I don’t think he would have, especially as he must know that I’ll be wanting to speak to him. And there’s something else I thought of—why did he tell me that you’d offered to take him to the airport when you didn’t?’

‘Maybe he intended to ask me to then changed his mind. Look, don’t worry, I’m sure everything is all right. I’m sure he’ll be on that flight tonight.’

‘Do you think that if I phone British Airways in a couple of hours they’ll tell me whether or not he’s checked in?’

‘No, they won’t, not unless it’s an emergency. Passenger confidentiality and all that.’

‘Then I guess I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow morning,’ I sigh.

‘Well, when you see him, make sure you tell him off for worrying you. And tell him to send me a text to let me know he’s arrived.’

‘Then could you give me your mobile number?’ He gives it to me and I jot it down. ‘Thanks, Adam.’

Once again I have trouble sleeping. Early next morning, prettily dressed and beautifully made-up, I go down to the lobby. Mr Ho is once again at the reception desk. He guesses that I’ve come down to wait for Jack and tells me that I might have a long wait, as there are the queues at Passport Control to contend with plus the taxi ride from the airport. He suggests that I have breakfast, but I tell him that I prefer to wait for Jack, that he’ll no doubt be hungry when he arrives.

I find a seat not too far away from the main door and settle down to wait. As time goes on, I look at my watch anxiously and, when it is evident that something is wrong, I go over to Mr Ho and ask him if he can find out if the London flight arrived on time. He checks on his computer and, when he tells me that the flight was in fact delayed and is due to land at any moment, I can’t believe my luck, because I won’t have to pretend panic for another couple of hours. Mr Ho smiles at the look of relief on my face and I admit that I was beginning to
worry at Jack’s non-appearance. I go back to waiting and Mr Ho brings me over a pot of tea to help pass the time.

When, almost two hours later, Jack still hasn’t arrived, it’s time to start feeling uneasy. I ask to use the phone at the reception desk and, as I dial Jack’s number, I tell Mr Ho that although Jack had warned me he might only be able to take the Wednesday evening flight, I can’t help feeling worried because he would have phoned to let me know. When I get through to his voicemail, my voice is shaky with tears of disappointment and frustration.

‘Jack, where are you? I know the flight was delayed, but you should be here by now. I hope it doesn’t mean that you’re not arriving until tomorrow—if that’s the case, you could have at least warned me. Have you any idea how worrying it is to be without any news from you for the last four days? Even if you didn’t want to answer your phone you could have phoned me, you must have got all my messages. Please give me a ring, Jack, it’s awful being stuck here not knowing what’s happening—not that I’m not being well looked after,’ I add hurriedly, aware that Mr Ho is listening, ‘because I am, but I just want you here. Please phone and tell me what’s happening—I’m in the lobby now, but I’ll be going back up to my room, or you can leave a message with Mr Ho at reception. I love you.’

I hang up to find Mr Ho looking sympathetically at me. He suggests that I go through for breakfast and, when I tell him that I’m not hungry, he promises to
call me if Jack phones, so I let him persuade me to have something to eat.

As I make my way to the terrace, I bump into Margaret and Richard, the couple I met the day before on the trip to the temples, and my eyes fill with tears of disappointment when I explain that Jack hasn’t turned up. They tell me not to worry, pointing out that he had warned me he might be delayed, and insist that I spend the day with them. I tell them I’d rather stay in the hotel for the next couple of hours in case Jack phones or suddenly turns up, but that I’ll join them in the afternoon if he doesn’t.

I go up to my room and phone Adam. I’m relieved when he doesn’t pick up as it suits me to leave a message letting him know that Jack wasn’t on the flight. Later, I go down to join Margaret and Richard, the strain of not having heard from Jack clearly visible on my face, especially when I tell them that I’ve tried his mobile again several times without success. They are kindness itself and I’m glad to have them to take my mind off things. I punctuate the time I spend with them with fruitless calls to Jack’s mobile, urging him to phone me.

In the evening, my new friends refuse to let me sit and mope alone so we have dinner together, where they talk brightly about how much they’re looking forward to meeting Jack the following morning. I eventually get back to my room around midnight and find a message from Adam, saying he’s sorry he missed my call and asking if I would like him to go over to the house to
see if Jack is still there. I phone him back and tell him that yes, if he doesn’t mind, but then we work out that if Jack is to catch the flight that evening, he will already have left for the airport. So I tell him not to bother and that I’ll phone him the moment Jack arrives and we joke again about the telling-off he’s going to get for worrying us all.

The next morning, Margaret and Richard keep me company while I wait for Jack to arrive from the airport so they are there to witness my distress when he doesn’t turn up. At Margaret’s suggestion, I try to find out from British Airways if Jack was on the flight, but they are unable to help me, so I phone the British Embassy. I explain everything to them and maybe because Jack’s name is known, they tell me they’ll see what they can do. When they phone back and confirm that Jack wasn’t on the flight, I burst into tears. I manage to pull myself together long enough to tell them that he doesn’t seem to be at home either, but, although they are sympathetic, they tell me there isn’t a lot they can do at this stage. They suggest I phone friends and relations in England to see if they know where he is and I thank them and hang up.

With Margaret by my side, I call Adam and, my voice trembling with anxiety, tell him what has happened. He immediately offers to go straight round to the house and calls me back half an hour later to say that he’s standing outside the gates, but that everything is shut up and nobody has answered the bell. So I worry that
Jack has had an accident on the way to the airport and, although he reassures me, he says that he’ll make some inquiries. I tell him that the British Embassy suggested I try to find out if anyone has spoken to him since I left and he offers to phone around for me.

While I wait for Adam to get back to me, Diane calls to reassure me and to tell me that Adam is doing all he can to track Jack down. We talk for a while and, after I’ve hung up, Margaret begins to ask me gentle questions and it dawns on me that she and Richard are wondering if there could be someone else in Jack’s life, someone who he might have run off with. Horrified, I tell her that it had never occurred to me, because there had never been anything in his behaviour to suggest that there was, but that I suppose it’s a possibility I’m going to have to consider.

The phone rings again.

‘Grace?’

‘Hello, Adam.’ I make my voice hesitant, as if I’m dreading what he’s going to tell me. ‘Have you managed to find out anything?’

‘Only that Jack hasn’t been admitted to any of the hospitals I phoned, which is good news.’

‘It is,’ I agree, giving a sigh of relief.

‘On the other hand, I phoned as many people as I could think of but no one seems to have heard from him, at least not over the last few days. So I’m afraid we’re back to square one, really.’

I look at Margaret, who nods encouragingly. ‘There’s something I need to ask you, Adam,’ I say.

‘Go on.’

‘Is it possible that Jack was having an affair, maybe with someone at the office?’ My words come out in a rush.

‘An affair? Jack?’ Adam sounds shocked. ‘No, of course not. He would never do anything like that. He barely looked at another woman before he met you and he certainly hasn’t since. You must know that, Grace.’

Margaret, who gets the gist, gives my hand a squeeze. ‘I do,’ I say, chastened. ‘It’s just that I can’t think of any other reason he would suddenly disappear without trace.’

‘Can you think of any other friends he has, people that maybe I don’t know?’

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