The Missing Husband (39 page)

With her head bowed against the heavy downpour, Jo didn’t notice the car parked outside her house or the man who jumped out and rushed over to her, not until he stepped in front of the pram and blocked her way.

‘Mrs Taylor?’

‘Yes,’ Jo said, too startled to question why he wanted to know.

‘I was hoping for a statement about the latest developments?’

The first question she thought of was ‘what developments?’ but she had the presence of mind to go straight to the second. ‘And who exactly are you?’ she asked as she manoeuvred the pram past the stranger and through the gate.

The man followed her up the path as he introduced himself as a local reporter but Jo wasted no time in telling him she had no comment to make and that he should speak to Mary Jenkins. She was as polite as she could be; the press had helped in the initial search for David and maybe they would again, but right now she needed more information and she wasn’t about to comment on any developments until she knew what they were.

Jo could still see the journalist hovering on the doorstep after she closed the door. The house was cold and she shivered as she stood in indecision. She was trying to decide who to phone first when the decision was taken out of her hands. Archie began to cry.

As she dripped a trail of raindrops through the house, Jo switched the heating on and concentrated on satisfying her son’s needs before her own curiosity. She cradled Archie in one arm but didn’t unravel him from his winter layers. He was out of the rain but still needed protection from Jo’s sopping wet clothes. Shivering, she waited for his feeding bottle to warm up, her hand trembling more than it should as she took out her mobile. There had been two missed calls, one from Irene and one from Mary. There was also a voicemail message, which she ignored. Opting to hear the news she was already dreading from a real voice rather than a recording, Jo dialled Irene’s number.

28

The central heating system was still in the process of chasing away the chills when the house began to fill with warm bodies. Jo hadn’t had a chance to get changed and wasn’t sure if the steam curling around her came from her damp clothes or the mug of hot, sweet tea Steph had placed in her shaking hands.

‘When did they say they’d be here?’ Irene asked.

Jo raised her eyes to the bare chimney breast as if the missing starburst clock would tell her the time. ‘Soon, I should think.’

‘They’ll still be beating a confession out of Steve.’

All heads snapped towards Lauren who was sitting on the floor propped up against Jo’s armchair. She wriggled her nose, which looked slightly swollen with a mark where the stud had once been. Her shrug was unapologetic. ‘I’m just saying.’

‘Well, don’t just say,’ her mum replied.

There was a sigh to accompany another shrug and then Lauren returned her attention to her mobile. Other than the tap-tap of her keystrokes, the room fell silent. Jo strained her ears and imagined that the click of the phone was the tick of the non-existent clock as she stared at its invisible hands, a sight preferable to Irene’s tormented form curled up tightly next to Steph on the sofa.

‘He doesn’t know any more than he’s already told us,’ Irene said at last. ‘He’s been arrested because he was taking money out of David’s account and even I have to agree he deserves to be locked away for that – but that’s all he’s done.’

She had been looking to Jo for support, but even if Irene were able to see through her tears she wouldn’t have found an ally. She jumped in fright when there was a knock at the door.

‘I’ll get it,’ Steph said and Jo didn’t argue. In her mind she could already see the silhouettes of the police officers standing at the front door, and it was an image that had given her too many nightmares.

‘Would you like a drink?’ Steph was asking as she ushered Martin Baxter and Mary Jenkins into the living room.

Martin caught the look of anticipation on everyone’s face and quickly answered them. ‘We’ve released Steve,’ he said to Jo. ‘We had to bring him in for questioning and he’s been charged, but only in relation to theft from your husband’s account. His alibi is watertight for the night in question and we have no reason to believe he had anything to do with David’s disappearance.’

‘Thank God!’ gasped Irene.

Jo wasn’t sure how she felt. There was something that might be relief because there was no bad news, no confirmation of her worst fears, but there was also a sense of disappointment. She had rejoiced in having so many answers but it now felt as if she was back at square one. There was nothing to suggest David had deserted her and no evidence that he had died. She didn’t know what they were meant to do next but from the way Mary was looking at Martin, she realized the police did. ‘What?’

‘I know it won’t be pleasant having the media scrutinize your lives again but Steve’s arrest has put the case back in the spotlight and I’d like to take advantage of that.’

‘At least Steve’s been good for something, then,’ Steph said under her breath.

‘I’d like to organize a reconstruction and retrace David’s last known movements, starting from West Allerton station,’ Martin continued.

‘To where?’ Jo asked, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the idea.

‘To Beaumont Avenue,’ Mary answered. ‘Even though we don’t know how much of that route David followed, it could still trigger a memory for someone.’

‘When do you want to do it?’ Jo asked.

‘As soon as we can, certainly within the next couple of weeks,’ Mary said. ‘I’ll do all the liaising with the press, but we need a family member to make another public appeal.’

‘Now that we know there’s no suggestion that David’s disappearance was premeditated, we’re taking it more seriously than ever, Jo,’ Martin added before she had a chance to reply.

Jo’s eyes narrowed as she tried to interpret the look the policeman was giving her. Her shivering body still managed a shudder when she recognized it as sympathy. ‘You think he’s dead, don’t you?’

‘I think the chances of him disappearing of his own free will have significantly diminished. We need your help finding him.’

Jo’s blood ran cold. She couldn’t escape the image forming in her mind of David’s body lying undiscovered somewhere. She imagined someone out there, knowing what had happened that night, and then she imagined sitting in front of a camera and making a plea to that person to put her out of her misery. Her palpitations made her stutter with fear. ‘I – I w-want to – but I can’t. I c-can’t do it …’

‘Could I do it?’ Irene asked. She was looking at Jo.

‘It would be better coming from Jo,’ Martin insisted.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Lauren said. It was an offer that was repeated by Steph a second later but it was Mary who came up with the solution that would satisfy everyone.

‘If we can have the whole family there then Irene could speak on your behalf; if you can manage to sit through the press conference, Jo, that would be enough and if it got too much then you could get up and leave, it’s as simple as that,’ Mary said, acknowledging the look of terror on Jo’s face. ‘And to be brutally honest, it wouldn’t do any harm if you did have to leave. It might prick someone’s conscience and persuade them to pick up the phone.’

‘At last, my penchant for hysteria can be put to good use,’ Jo said, dryly.

29

The first fingers of sunlight stretched across the watery winter’s sky and slipped through the stained glass window towards Jo as she prepared for her first day at work for more than twelve weeks. It was eight o’clock and she was standing in front of the dresser putting the finishing touches to her outfit. The folds of her scarf fell with perfect precision around her neck, the orange and brown pattern complementing her glossy auburn hair and reflecting some warmth on to her pale skin which had been draining of colour the closer she came to leaving.

The press conference had gone by in a blur both mentally and visually. With her eyes welling with tears, the enquiring faces of the press had been indistinguishable blobs and she hadn’t dared look at the anxious faces of the family who surrounded her. Her mum had cradled Archie in her arms while Irene made a desperate plea for information. Jo’s only contribution had been to continue to breathe through the anxiety building in her chest.

She had been annoyed and frustrated by her inability to make any kind of coherent statement on the day. She had tried to answer questions, to add her own feelings and thoughts, but her words had stuck in her throat and nothing had come out except a sob. She supposed it was some achievement that she had held back the panic until she was out of view of the gawkers – and at least it was done.

Hooking her handbag over her shoulder, Jo picked up the baby carrier. Archie was awake and they locked eyes. His lip trembled and he seemed to be on the verge of tears too. They were going to do this, she told herself as she cast one final glance in the mirror. She took a deep breath, held it, and then released it through the bright yellow straw trembling between her dry lips. Heather’s recommended breathing technique was one she had continued to practise and while Jo wasn’t convinced it worked, it was the straw that occupied her mind when she exhaled her first breath of fresh air and not the empty space on the doorstep that her husband refused to occupy.

Jo was relieved to find the bottle of surface cleaner and duster still in the bottom of her filing cabinet because her first task of the day was to disinfect everything in sight. Occasionally she looked up and caught a furtive glance from one concerned colleague or another but she didn’t care. They had all seen the news and had probably expected her to return a wreck. It wasn’t a label she intended to keep but she wasn’t ready to start that long climb back to her position as a well-respected manager until she had established solid foundations. Her office was her domain and she wanted to erase all evidence of her temporary usurper. As if on cue, the door opened and Kelly stepped in.

‘Here’s your coffee.’ Kelly was standing in front of the desk, looking for somewhere to put it.

Jo retrieved a recently polished coaster and placed it down on the desk. It was a perfect match to the cup in Kelly’s hand. The set had been a present from David and had her name printed on it with a somewhat dubious assessment of her character. Apparently
Joanne
was reckless and impulsive. David had found the description hilarious but right now, Jo thought of it as an aspiration. She was allowed to hope, wasn’t she?

‘Thanks, Kelly.’

‘Ooh, I wouldn’t mind one of those if you’re offering,’ Gary said looking at the steaming mug from the doorway.

Jo watched Kelly flinch and felt genuinely sorry for her. The poor girl might have questionable people skills but she was more than a coffee-maker. ‘I think Janet’s already on the case,’ Jo said as she glimpsed Gary’s PA heading off in the direction of the kitchen.

‘Do you want me to stay?’ Kelly asked. She was directing her question to Gary. ‘I’ve drawn up a checklist for all the updates we need to go through with Jo. I’ll just go and get it.’

Gary wafted a hand. ‘We can deal with the paperwork later, Kelly. I just want to have a welcome back chat with Jo first.’ Kelly looked as if she was about to respond but Gary held her gaze and the warning that went with it. She backed away and closed the door behind her.

Jo watched as Gary dropped into the visitor’s chair and sighed. ‘I know you’re going through a really tough time, Jo so I’m here to tell you that you shouldn’t feel obliged to come back if it’s too soon. You have to stop pretending you’re invincible. You’re not.’

‘I think I’ve already proven that on national TV,’ Jo said.

‘I saw the press conference.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m surprised you’re coping at all.’

‘It’s all smoke and mirrors. Beneath the surface I’m still that wailing banshee in front of the camera. Right now I’m doing a good impersonation of the old me and I can only hope that one day it will stop being an act. It’s not going to be easy, though.’ She took a breath and placed her hand on her chest, willing her pulse to slow. ‘I need you to know that I’ve been having anxiety attacks and my compulsion to find some order in my life is stronger than it ever was.’

They both looked at the desk Jo was still in the process of cleaning. Gary nodded. ‘Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe buy you some more polish?’ he asked, managing to raise a smile from Jo’s trembling lips.

‘I’ve got some sessions lined up with a therapist so I’ll need some time off to attend.’

Gary twisted in his seat; it was no more than a suggestion of a glance behind him in the general direction of Kelly. ‘I’ll agree to whatever it takes to get the old Jo back.’

‘Good, because I’ll also need some time off to deal with anything else that might come my way,’ Jo added, testing his loyalties to the limit. ‘The reconstruction is taking place next week so I’d like to take a couple of days off then.’

Gary nodded. ‘Whatever it takes,’ he said again.

Jo had been rehearsing that particular conversation over and over again in her head and, relieved it was over, began to relax for the first time that day. ‘But other than that, I’m back.’

There was a lull in the conversation as Janet slipped into the office to give Gary his mug of tea. The pause gave Jo a chance to concentrate on her breathing. She picked up the yellow straw that had been sitting proud in her pen holder. Simply holding it brought a degree of comfort.

Gary was watching her. ‘OK, now we’ve both said what needs to be said, can I just say I’m so glad you’re here?’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘I’m no therapist but I think what you need is something to concentrate your mind on other than your private life and I have just the job for you.’

The yellow straw dropped down on to the desk and Jo picked up her pen as Gary went through a handful of documents that Kelly had somehow persuaded him to amend and issue. These were procedures that Jo had spent time developing and maybe there was room for improvement, but they had worked and Gary shouldn’t have been carried away by Kelly’s eagerness to impress. Fortunately for Kelly, Gary was ready to accept his own culpability and when he proceeded to list all the subsequent grievances that had been placed and the various threats from the unions, he wasn’t looking for a scapegoat, he was looking for someone to get things back in order. There was a lot of work to be done repairing industrial relations. It was a mess and under different circumstances it would have horrified Jo but she had a smile on her face and she kept it for almost the entire day.