The Marriage Betrayal

by Shalini Boland

  ‘I hope so.’

  We head into the kitchen and I sit at the table while Tom puts the kettle on.

  ‘Lainy still asleep?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah, only just. She was tossing and turning most of the night. Mumbling in her sleep.’

  ‘I’m glad she managed to doze off eventually. How about you? Did you get any shut-eye?’

  ‘Yeah, a few hours. Want some toast?’

  ‘Please.’ Part of me feels guilty at the thought of eating. What kind of person must I be to think about breakfast at a time like this? It’s just fuel, I tell myself. Fuel to get me through this horror.

  Tom and I eat our toast and drink our tea in near silence, zoning out, lost in thought. I wonder what my life will be like from now on. Is this the beginning of the end, or will I be given another chance at happiness? What will today bring? I put the last crust in my mouth, chew without tasting and take the last sip of tea, getting to my feet. ‘I’m going back to bed for a bit.’

  ‘Good idea. It’s only six o’clock. I’ll wake you if there’s any news.’

  ‘Thanks, Tom. And thanks for being such a good friend. I appreciate it.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. You’re family.’

  I swallow, not trusting myself to speak. Instead, I raise my hand in a half-hearted wave and trudge up the stairs to bed. Maybe this time, after all that walking and sea air, I’ll actually brave the bed and get some sleep.

  It works.

  The doorbell rouses me from a deep, dreamless slumber. I snap awake, remembering everything in a rush. Staring blearily around the empty bedroom. I can’t believe I finally managed to nod off. I throw back the covers, pull on my crumpled linen trousers and roll on some deodorant under my shirt, wondering who it might be at the door. Wondering what news today will bring. Wondering if the police might have found my family. My gut clenches with anxiety as I head downstairs.

  Twenty-Three

  He glances at his watch, conscious that he’s been gone for a good while now. He needs to get a move on. The cereal aisle is bewildering, with boxes upon boxes of the stuff. All brightly coloured, most of them emblazoned with cartoon animals. He selects three different cartons at random and hopes at least one will be suitable.

  The air-con inside the hypermarket is brutal – a thick chill that, after an initial few seconds of bliss, makes him wish he’d brought a sweatshirt.

  He really should have grocery shopped beforehand, but there wasn’t the time or opportunity. Never mind, it can’t be helped. He’ll only be gone for an hour max and it’s too early in the day for him to be missed.

  What else should he get? Pasta? Cheese, maybe. He tells himself to stop thinking so hard about it. Instead, he marches down a few aisles and dumps several random items into the trolley without giving them too much thought.

  That will have to do.

  Worst comes to the worst, a few days of nothing but milk and cereal won’t kill him. It’ll do… at least until everything is ready for the next stage of the plan.

  Twenty-Four

  As I walk down the stairs, I hear women’s voices.

  Lainy is talking to someone in the hallway. She turns as I approach. ‘Faye, how are you doing?’

  ‘Hello, Faye.’ It’s Lainy’s friend from the pub – Cath.

  ‘Hi,’ I croak.

  ‘Just popped round to bring you some homemade chocolate cake and see if I can do anything to help out,’ Cath says, placing a large cake tin on the hall table. Her sharp eyes sweep across me, no doubt taking in my dishevelled appearance.

  I reach the bottom of the stairs and rub my eyes with my fingertips.

  ‘You look rough, Faye,’ Lainy says. ‘Why don’t you go back to bed?’

  ‘I’m fine. We need to get back out there. Where’s Tom?’

  ‘Just gone to pick up some milk and stuff. He won’t be long.’

  ‘Look,’ Cath says, adjusting her massive cleavage, ‘why don’t I take the kids off your hands today? They can come down the beach with my lot. You can concentrate on finding your family.’

  ‘That’s so kind of you, Cath,’ Lainy says, ‘but I can’t expect you to—’

  ‘Course you can! We go way back. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but… I don’t… I mean… It’s complicated.’

  ‘What’s complicated about it?’ Cath arches an eyebrow.

  ‘We haven’t seen one another for years.’

  ‘So? We practically grew up together. You saying you don’t trust me with your kids, that it?’ Cath narrows her eyes.

  Lainy blanches. While their exchange is going on, I’m still at the bottom of the stairs wanting to retreat back to the bedroom, away from this unexpected social interaction. I don’t have the energy for this kind of conversation. When I heard the doorbell, I thought it might have been the police. I know Cath is well-meaning and it’s a generous offer, but I can’t see Lainy and Tom saying yes to shipping the girls off with someone else.

  ‘I think she’s worried about taking advantage of your good nature,’ I intervene.

  Cath’s features relax. ‘Oh, no need to worry about that. I love kids. It’s no bother at all.’

  Lainy is obviously reluctant to let Cath look after the girls, and I can’t say I blame her. But it doesn’t look as though Cath is taking the hint.

  ‘Honestly, Cath, it’s lovely of you but we haven’t seen one another for years,’ Lainy says to Cath, glancing back at me with barely concealed panic. ‘I can’t expect you to go to so much trouble.’

  ‘Course you can,’ Cath replies. ‘Our families have known one another since we were toddlers. We’re practically family.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘And we went to the same school and knew all the same people.’

  ‘Yes, I know but—’

  ‘So let me help you out. You’re obviously having a rough time. You need to find your brother and your nephew. It’ll be easier without young children around. More fun for them too. And I’d be happy to have them for a few hours. Let me do this for you.’

  ‘It’s just… after what happened with Mark last night… Do you still have contact with him?’ Lainy asks.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Cath frowns.

  ‘I went to see him last night,’ I say.

  Lainy and Cath turn in my direction.

  ‘Oh… good,’ Cath says. ‘Does he know anything? If not, I’m sure he’ll keep his ear to the ground.’

  ‘Well that’s the thing,’ I say, remembering the hunted expression he wore. ‘He ran off before we got a chance to speak.’

  ‘What do you mean he ran off?’ Cath’s frown deepens and she turns to look at Lainy.

  ‘I wasn’t there,’ Lainy says. ‘Faye went with my husband Tom to speak to him.’

  ‘Mark was standing outside his caravan,’ I explain, ‘but when we called out to him, he took one look at us and ran.’

  Cath puts her hands on her hips. ‘That doesn’t sound like Mark. He might be a waste of space, but he wouldn’t run off like that. Not at all. He wears his heart on his sleeve. What you see is what you get. I always liked that about him. He’s honest. Too honest sometimes.’ She takes her mobile out of the fake black and gold Gucci bag on her shoulder and makes a call, putting the phone to her ear. ‘Answerphone,’ she mouths. ‘Hey, Mark, it’s me, Cath. Can you call me as soon as you get this message? What were you doing running off last night? I’ve got Lainy Townsend – you know, from school – here with me and she needs our help. Her brother Jake’s gone missing with his little boy. Call me, okay.’

  ‘So you see,’ Lainy says, ‘I wouldn’t feel happy with my girls seeing Mark. Not after what went on last night.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why he ran,’ Cath says. ‘Unless, maybe he thought you were someone else.’

  ‘Well, it was quite unsettling,’ I reply, deciding not to tell her that we called the police, who then went on to search his caravan.

  ‘That’s why I’m not kee
n on Mark being around my girls,’ Lainy says, flushing slightly.

  ‘Well…’ Cath folds her arms again. ‘It sounds like a mix-up to me. But anyway, I don’t exactly hang out with my ex. He sees the kids every other weekend and that’s it. So if you’re worried about Mark, don’t be. We don’t have anything to do with each other. It’ll just be me and my kids, okay? And anyway, I love children and I’d have to be pretty stupid to put a foot wrong with them while the police are sniffing around.’

  ‘It’s really kind of you, Cath, but just… let me think about it for a minute.’

  ‘No worries, lovey. But just another thing to consider – it might be nicer for the girls to be away from the stress of what’s going on. I mean, kids pick up on this stuff, don’t they?’

  Lainy exhales. ‘It’s just… I’m nervous to let them out of my sight. You know, after what’s happened with Jake and Dylan.’

  ‘Well of course you are!’ Cath throws her arms around Lainy and gives her a hug. ‘I’d be the same. I promise you I’ll guard them with my life and I’ll call you every hour.’

  Lainy’s shoulders slump. ‘Okay. That sounds… good.’

  ‘Are you sure, Lainy?’ I ask, not wanting her to feel pressured.

  ‘They’ll be fine.’ Cath glances across at me with a kind smile.

  ‘All right. Thank you, Cath.’

  ‘Good. So that’s settled. My eldest, Emma, she’s fourteen and she loves little ones. Your two will have a great time. You don’t need to worry. I’ve got Samuel, who’s ten, and Lucy, who’s almost eight. They’ll have a ball together.’

  ‘Mummy, who’s that lady?’ Annabel comes out of the kitchen into the hallway, Poppy trailing behind her.

  ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ Cath says, slipping her phone back into her bag. ‘I’m your Aunty Cath. Me and your mummy went to school together.’

  ‘Did you?’ Poppy and Annabel chorus, staring up at Lainy.

  ‘We did,’ Lainy says.

  ‘Were you best friends?’ Poppy asks.

  ‘Well, Cath was in the year above me. In Uncle Jake’s year.’

  ‘Why isn’t Uncle Jake here?’ Poppy frowns. ‘And Dylan? You said we’d be able to play with Dylan on the beach.’

  ‘How would you like to come to the beach with me and my kids?’ Cath asks them, diplomatically changing the subject. ‘They’re outside in the car right now. Want to come and meet them?’

  Annabel clings to the back of Lainy’s legs.

  ‘It’s a generous offer, Cath,’ Lainy says, ‘but it doesn’t look as though they’re up for it after all. Bit shy, you know how it is.’

  ‘Do you like puppies?’ Cath persists. ‘We’ve got two little spaniels. You can come and stroke them if you like?’

  ‘Can we, Mum?’ Poppy cries. My eldest niece loves animals.

  ‘Two puppies?’ Annabel slides out from behind her mother.

  Cath takes advantage of their interest and takes each of my nieces by the hand. ‘Yep, two. Want to see?’

  ‘Go on then,’ Lainy says with a sigh. She turns to Cath. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’

  ‘Course I am, wouldn’t have offered otherwise.’

  ‘It would be helpful,’ Lainy says, looking to me for approval. ‘Then we’d all be free to… you know, look for Jake and Dylan.’

  I nod and shrug. Cath seems good hearted, and, like she said, they know one another from way back.

  Lainy turns back to Cath. ‘Thank you.’

  She nods. ‘Right. That’s finally sorted then.’

  ‘Let me get a bag of beach things.’ Lainy slides past me, up the stairs, while Cath leads my nieces outside. I watch everything as though I’m in a dream. Lack of sleep is making my brain feel as though it’s stuffed with cotton wool.

  Outside, Cath is chattering away to the girls. The front door lies open, shafts of bright, morning sunshine flooding the hallway. Squinting into the light, I make out two figures coming up the steps. My insides quiver. It’s Detectives Nash and Soames.

  Soames raps on the open door before catching sight of me on the stairs.

  I unfreeze my body and walk stiffly down to greet them.

  ‘Hello, Faye,’ Nash says, her dark hair gleaming in the sunlight.

  ‘Hello,’ I croak.

  ‘Can we come in? Have a quick chat?’

  ‘Did you… Have you found them?’ I clench my hands and my nails dig into my palms.

  ‘Shall we go and sit down somewhere?’ she says, not quite catching my eye.

  Asking me to sit down isn’t a good thing, is it? It’s what you say when you have to tell somebody bad news. ‘Okay,’ I reply, my ears ringing with blood. ‘Let’s go into the kitchen.’

  We sit around the table, which is still strewn with breakfast things. The polite person inside me knows I should offer them a drink, but I can’t speak. Instead, I stare at Nash expectantly, dreading what she’s about to tell me.

  ‘Now,’ she begins, ‘I have some news which may not necessarily mean anything bad, but we do have to take it seriously.’

  I nod to show I’ve heard her, fear gnawing at my insides.

  ‘When we first started the search for your husband and son, we discovered some blood near the base of the cliffs.’

  ‘Blood! What do you mean? Is it…? Are you saying that…? Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

  ‘We didn’t want to tell you before we’d tested it. It could have been nothing to do with your family.’

  ‘But now you think it is? Is that what you’re saying? So have you? Tested it, I mean?’ I get to my feet and run my hands through my hair. Then I make myself sit back down again and wait for Nash to reply.

  ‘There’s no cause for immediate alarm. We did an out-of-hours quick-turnaround DNA test, using the samples you provided from Jake and Dylan.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It was a match for your husband.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘But you mustn’t jump to conclusions.’

  ‘How can you tell me not to jump to conclusions!’ This is all becoming too real now. I can barely look at either of them, afraid the unmasked concern in their eyes will finish me.

  Nash carries on talking. ‘Like I said, it was a small amount of blood, and it could simply mean he’s had a scrape or a cut.’

  ‘But he’s missing! You don’t go missing because of a scrape or a cut!’ I stand once more and walk over to the window. ‘What about Dylan? Have you found his blood too? Is there anything else you’re not telling me?’

  ‘No, no, there’s nothing else. Nothing in relation to your son. Which may mean that your husband is injured, but your son is fine. I know it’s hard, but please try not to let your imagination run wild. It could be a good thing that we found the DNA. Now we know where to concentrate our search. We have people combing that particular area as we speak. We also have divers searching—’

  ‘Divers!’ I cry. ‘You think—’

  ‘We’re being thorough, but there’s every chance we’ll locate them both alive and well.’

  In my mind, I visualise Jake’s blood staining the rocks, the rescue services clambering over the cliffs searching for my missing family. Divers swimming in the murky depths of the Channel. Then I try to picture what’s going to happen next. But I can’t. My mind is a dark chasm. Empty. Blank.

  Twenty-Five

  Then

  She picks her way up the steep path, as watery moonlight splashes down between the trees. Echoing strains of music and laughter floating up on the warm night air. The whispered hush and sigh of the waves in tune with her disappointment. She wishes she’d had more courage this evening. Why hadn’t she been brave enough to speak to Owen? All that build-up to tonight… for nothing.

  Her long strides turns into angry stomps. She’ll be fifteen next week; she’s not a child any more. So why does she feel so hopelessly young? So pathetically immature? The path narrows, and she ducks to avoid an overhanging branch. Blinks back frustrated tears and pushes her hair
out of her eyes. She takes a breath, the familiar scent of sea salt and pine needles going some way to dampen her annoyance with herself.

  A snapping twig makes her stop and cock her head to the side. She knows it’s probably just a wild animal out hunting. Nevertheless, her breath hitches and her heart pumps a little harder. She’s watched all the scary movies with her friends. She’s seen the vampires and the zombies and the evil spirits that suck out teenage girls’ souls. But it’s the dark human characters who scare her the most. The ones who really do exist.

  Still frozen in place, she wills herself to move once more. Lengthens her strides and quickens her pace. Not quite running. But almost.

  Another cracking twig, a shuffle from behind. Sweat prickles on her back. Thoughts of soft lips and missed opportunities are pushed from her mind. Now, all she wants to do is reach the top of the cliff. To get home and slam the door closed behind her. For her mum and dad to be angry that she’s late back. For them to be furious that she walked home alone. For her to reassure them that she’s fine. To roll her eyes and say, It’s okay, nothing happened.

  But now there’s no mistaking the steady clomp of footsteps coming up the cliff path behind her. She reaches the stone steps and takes them two at a time, her wedge heels making a dull scrape and thud. The panic wanting to tear itself from her lips. She’s only halfway up, and she won’t be able to outrun whoever it is – not in these shoes. But there’s no time to undo the straps and take them off.

  Whoever it is, they’re getting closer. She daren’t turn around.

  She times her next step wrong.

  She trips.

  Falls.

  A hand reaches out to clasp her bare ankle.

  Lainy screams into the darkness.

  Twenty-Six

  Now

  Back up on the headland a small cluster of people walk towards us. They’re wearing high-vis jackets and they appear to be led by a woman holding a clipboard.

  ‘Hello, I’m Ramona,’ the woman says, her fair hair tied back off her face in a no-nonsense ponytail. I take in her cargo shorts, National Trust T-shirt and walking boots. Maybe she mistakenly thinks we’re part of their hiking group.