Fractured (2 page)

11
A.M
.

Ursula finished reading the newspaper for the second time, then rummaged through the pile of magazines on the shelf under
the coffee table. She picked up a surfing magazine and flicked through it, watching Tony from the corner of her eye. He sat
on a stool at the kitchen bench with his computer open, tapping the mouse pad every so often. He picked up his phone, checked
it was still connected to the charger, then put it down next to the laptop.

She tossed the magazine onto the table and stretched her arms above her head. She yawned loudly, then stood up. ‘I might go
and get us some lunch,’ she said.

Her words seemed to break Tony’s trance. He closed his laptop, then scraped the metal legs of his stool back along the floor
as he stood up. He reached for his car keys. ‘Don’t get me anything. I’m going to go and look for them.’

‘Where will you go? They could be anywhere.’

‘I don’t know, but I can’t just sit here and wait any more. Can you stay here in case Anna comes back? I won’t be long. I’m
just going to have a drive around.’

Ursula nodded. She was getting worried now too. ‘OK. I’ll call you if I hear anything.’

She watched Tony leave. As soon as the sound of his car faded, she called Jim. ‘Hi, love, not interrupting anything, am I?’

‘No, it’s fine, just having a cuppa. One of the apprentices didn’t bother showing up today so it’s been a bloody nightmare,
but I’m back in the office now. What’s going on?’

She filled him in.

‘That doesn’t sound like Anna,’ Jim said.

‘I know, it’s strange.’ She gazed at the grinning monkeys and giraffes on the fabric of the bouncer chair in the corner of
the living room. It had been her and Jim’s gift at the baby shower; Anna had squealed when she saw it, as excited as any expectant
mother. She had been surprised at Tony’s comment today that Anna had been finding Jack difficult; he always seemed so settled,
and Anna was so capable. She looked away. ‘I wouldn’t be so worried, but Anthony’s really stressed. It’s like there’s something
he’s not telling me.’

‘She wouldn’t have left him, would she?’

‘No, of course not! She wouldn’t just walk out; you know how good they are together.’ Ursula paused and looked out of the
window. ‘Though God knows it’s hard with a new baby. I told him he should have taken some time off instead of going back to
work the minute she got out of hospital.’

‘Don’t go on at him again about that.’

‘I’m not!’

‘She’ll be fine; they’ve probably just had a fight about something.’

She sighed. Sometimes she wished Jim would take things more seriously. He always made light of even the worst situation. Ursula
knew that this was one of the ways they balanced each other, but carrying the burden of worry for the entire family sometimes
wore her down. ‘I’ll let you get back to work. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll call Lisa, just in case Anna pops into her shop
or something. She’s been dying to see Jack again – maybe … Anyway, I’ll call you later.’

Ursula put the phone down. She switched on the television, but couldn’t concentrate. She remembered the first time that Tony
had taken Anna home to meet them. It was Lisa’s twenty-first birthday, almost six years ago now. They had met at the races
a few months earlier; Tony had been at a work function, while Anna was celebrating the end of her teacher training with friends.
Ursula had watched them together at the party and known that night that they would marry. No, Anna wouldn’t walk out on Tony.
Besides, if she wasn’t coming back, she would have taken clothes and toiletries for her and Jack, but she hadn’t. No, there
must be another explanation.

She stood up and walked into the kitchen. She rechecked the room: no bag, no keys. She opened the drawers and the cupboards
but everything looked the same as it always did. She switched the kettle on again and opened the fridge to find the milk.
As she went to close the door, she hesitated. On the top shelf, four baby bottles full of milk lay in a row, their teats covered
with clear plastic lids. She reached out and picked one up. She curled her palm around it, then opened the lid and squeezed
some of the milk onto her wrist: it wasn’t chilled yet. Anna had made these bottles up this morning, before she went out.
They were for Jack.

Anna would be back soon.

* * *

Tony felt better once he was out of the house. Pretending not to notice his mum as she pretended not to watch him had made
him even more restless. He drove along the streets around the house, then turned onto the main road that ran down to the beach.
It was a while since he’d been at home on a weekday; he was surprised at how quiet the traffic was. The midday sun was high
above him, and even though it wasn’t really swimming weather, backpackers and tourists were baking themselves on multicoloured
towels along the beach. Anna hated the sun: it seared her fair skin and gave her freckles. She wouldn’t be on the beach.

He indicated right, towards the city, then flicked the indicator off again. Anna never drove to the city: she always caught
the train so she wouldn’t have to find somewhere to park. He kept driving straight ahead, scanning the roads for Anna’s car.
Every time he saw a black hatchback he held his breath, then deflated when he realised that it wasn’t hers.

Parking at the local shops, he walked towards Anna’s favourite bookshop. She used to spend hours in there; perhaps she had
lost track of time? She was probably sitting at one of the tables with a
coffee reading some huge novel while Jack slept in the pram next to her. She’d laugh at Tony for being so worried. He paused
at the doorway, giving himself another moment of hope. If they weren’t inside, it would be another victory to the choking,
viscous fear that was rising in his chest, his throat, his mouth. He breathed in: the air was fresh. He swallowed, told himself
not to be so silly, then walked into the store. But Anna and Jack weren’t at any of the small tables, or among the shelves,
or in the children’s section at the back.

They weren’t here.

Back out on the street, he walked faster, methodically checking every shop and cafe, trying to ignore the uneasiness that
became stronger with each step. He headed across the road to the beachfront and marched through the playground in the park,
glancing involuntarily in every pram, listening carefully for Anna’s laugh or Jack’s cry. Crossing back to the shops, he began
to jog. Perhaps she was walking and they were going round the same circuit, constantly missing each other. If he sped up,
he’d catch her. He passed the same row of shops again, faster, frantic now, his feet starting to swell and rub against his
work shoes. But there was still no sign of them.

He ended up back at the bookshop. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and forced himself to sit down and have a coffee, to
think, to be logical. It wasn’t like him to panic; it wouldn’t help. He checked his phone again: there were no missed calls
and it hadn’t run out of power. He tried to swallow down the gnarled twist of anxiety rising in his chest.

Anna and Jack had disappeared.

He stared at the swirls on top of his coffee, which he supposed were meant to look like some sort of leaf. He ripped open
a brown paper sachet of raw sugar and dumped it into the centre of the cup, watching the crystals slowly sink, then finally
collapse and submerge, leaving a gaping hole in the middle of the intricate pattern. Blinking hard, he picked up the teaspoon
and began to stir. He already had a headache, so the caffeine probably wasn’t a good idea, but fatigue and a sense of inevitability
were starting to
weigh him down. Shaking his head, he dropped his spoon on the table with a clang. He couldn’t slow down. He had to find them.

He looked at his phone again but there were still no messages. He scrolled through his numbers until he found Emily’s. Emily
and Anna spoke almost every day, they had grown up together, and until Anna went on maternity leave they had worked together.
If Anna had been planning anything, Emily would know. He dialled the number, annoyed with himself; he should have called her
sooner.

She answered on the third ring with a cheery, ‘Hi Tony!’

‘Hey, Emily. Sorry to bother you at work. Can you talk?’

‘Yeah, of course. I’m just walking to the staffroom – thank God it’s lunchtime, the kids have been a nightmare today. There’s
only so many hours I can spend teaching five-year-olds about the letter M. How are you?’

He felt some of the tension in his shoulders slacken as he listened to Emily’s chirpy voice. His relief only lasted a few
moments, though, as he realised that he hadn’t heard Anna speak like that for weeks. She used to sound like Emily did now
– bright, excited, enthusiastic – but lately she’d been so quiet and distracted. He took a deep breath.

‘I’m good, thanks. Um … it’s probably nothing, but have you heard from Anna today?’

‘No, I haven’t spoken to her since last week. Why?’

‘I’m sure everything’s fine. It’s just that Mum was coming round to see her and Jack this morning, but she’s not here, and
I can’t find her. They’ve disappeared.’

‘She’s probably just taken Jack for a walk. She must have lost track of time.’

Tony nodded, eager to be reassured. Emily was right. She didn’t sound worried at all, and she was probably the only person
who knew Anna as well as he did. In the background he could hear schoolchildren chattering and squealing, and the trample
of little footsteps running down a corridor. It all sounded so normal, and that meant there had to be a reasonable explanation
for this. ‘Yeah,
you’re right. Thanks. Will you let me know if she gets in touch with you?’

‘Of course … Tony, is everything all right?’

‘Yes, yes. It’s just not like her, that’s all.’

‘I know, she never forgets anything, does she? God, remember that spreadsheet of jobs she gave me for your wedding?’ Emily
laughed. ‘But I’ve read about new mums and baby brain – it’s the hormones. When I last spoke to her, she said she was exhausted.
I’m sure that’s all it is. She was going to call me this week and arrange to bring Jack into work for a visit. The kids can’t
wait to meet him.’

‘Good. Well, if you happen to hear anything …’

‘I’ll tell her to call you straightaway. Don’t worry, Tony, she’ll be fine!’

He sighed. ‘Thanks, I better go. I’ll talk to you later.’

He put the phone down on the table and stared at it. What Emily said made perfect sense. Anna was tired; she had just forgotten.
She was organising a visit to work to show Jack off to everyone. She wouldn’t have said that if she hadn’t meant it; Anna
always stuck to her commitments. Tony repeated these facts to himself, hoping that if he said them enough times, he would
start to believe them.

* * *

As he was driving home, a young guy in a sports car pulled out in front of him. Tony swore and slammed the heel of his hand
onto the steering wheel to blare his horn. Anger bubbled over.

Why the hell hadn’t Anna taken her phone? Then he could call her, she could tell him where she and Jack were, and everything
would be OK. Maybe Jack was sick and she’d had to take him to the doctor. But then she would have called him, surely? They
would have let her use the phone at the GP’s rooms. Maybe her car had broken down and she was stuck somewhere. He should call
the hospitals, just in case. Was he being ridiculous? He drove slowly, giving her one last chance to appear before he arrived
back home again.

He walked into the house, hoping to hear Anna and his mum chatting. The television was on but only Ursula was there. She looked
at him and shook her head. Anna had been gone for over four hours now: he could no longer kid himself that she’d just gone
to the shops or for a walk. Without a word to his mum, he opened his laptop, still on the kitchen bench, and searched for
the number he wanted. He typed it into his phone, then dialled.

‘Yes, hello. My name is Anthony Patton. I need to make a report.’ He paused and gulped. ‘My wife and baby are missing.’

He heard his mum walk towards him and knew she was trying to catch his eye. He turned his back to her and walked into his
bedroom as he answered the operator’s questions. What was his name? His date of birth? Anna’s full name and date of birth?
When had he last seen her? He answered in an even voice, hoping that he was overreacting, hoping that before he’d finished
making the report, Anna would walk into the house and ask him what he was doing.

The operator continued, ‘Have you checked with her family and friends? Often people turn up —’

‘Yes, of course I have!’ He clenched his fist around the phone. Did the police think he was stupid? He bowed his head and
wiped his eyes with the back of his thumb.

‘Are you still there?’ the operator said.

Tony cleared his throat. He needed to stay calm. ‘Look, she hasn’t been well … The doctor gave her tablets …’ He glanced towards
the open door, where Ursula stood frowning. He looked away. ‘She’s taken the car, and the pram, and her bag, but it’s just
not like her to go out without leaving word. I wouldn’t call if I didn’t think there was something very wrong.’

The questions kept coming. The operator asked for a description of Jack. He hesitated: how could he describe Jack? He was
a tiny baby. Tony tried to picture him, but could only see him as a little bundle in Anna’s arms; that was where he always
was. When the operator asked what Anna was wearing, he admitted that he hadn’t seen her in anything but baggy old pyjamas
for days.

His heart pounded, but he forced himself to concentrate on the questions. He could barely hear them over the ringing in his
ears, louder and louder as the voice on the end of the phone droned on and on until he was sure his head was going to split
open.

‘For God’s sake, just do something!’ he burst out. ‘Please find them!’ He threw the phone down on the bed and covered his
burning face with his hands, trying to catch his breath. Where the hell were they?