Love You Gone: A gripping psychological crime novel with an incredible twist

by Rona Halsall

  She hurtled round the side of the table, the wine bottle in her hand now, and started whacking him with it on his arms and legs and torso, the extent of her rage seeming to have no end.

  ‘Mel! Mel! No, don’t, please,’ he begged, but there was no stopping her and the more he pleaded, the harder she hit him. Fearing that she was going to do him a serious injury he finally had to kick her away and run out of the house, glad that he had his car keys in his pocket. He jumped in the car, locked the doors and screeched out of the drive, his body shaking with the shock of his ordeal as he headed back to the farm.

  ‘Oh my God, Luke! What happened to your face?’ His mother clasped her hands to her cheeks, mouth open.

  Luke gazed at her for a moment. He had no idea what he looked like, but his face was stinging like crazy, his left eye was slightly closed and there was blood all over his hands. His body throbbed where she’d hit him with the bottle and he wondered if she might have cracked a rib, every breath bringing a searing pain to his chest.

  His mouth clamped shut while he tried to compose himself, feeling a bit light-headed with the shock of it all. He sank into a chair and closed his eyes for a moment, exhausted beyond thought, dragging his eyelids open a moment later to see his mother filling a bowl at the sink, the first aid kit out on the table.

  ‘Right, then,’ she said as she brought the bowl over. ‘Let me have a look.’

  Luke felt like he was five again and actually, it was just what he needed. A moment in time to give up responsibility and let himself be looked after.

  ‘So, what started it this time?’

  Luke winced as his mother dabbed at his face. ‘What do you mean “this time”?’ His heart was racing as his mind scrambled to find a plausible explanation for his injuries. ‘It wasn’t my fault. I had a… a run-in with a bunch of youths when I went to the shop to get a bottle of wine. They just jumped me.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Fay dabbed at his wounds and he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. ‘You may be thirty-four now, but I still know when you’re lying, Luke.’

  He felt even more stupid then, for trying to hide the truth.

  Mel’s right, isn’t she? I’m a poor excuse of a man. Tears stung his eyes. How on earth had it come to this? But he knew; she’d told him. He didn’t respect her, hadn’t thought about her feelings when he was thinking about the children needing a connection to their mother. He realised how insensitive he’d been and could understand why she’d been so upset. At least it was only his behaviour that she punished; he was sure she hadn’t raised a hand to the children because Tessa would have told him earlier. It was up to him to sort himself out and be a better husband.

  His emotions bubbled up inside, blocking his throat and making it impossible to speak.

  ‘She’s done it before, hasn’t she?’ Fay said. ‘Maybe not this bad, but she’s kicked off.’ He opened his mouth to deny it but he caught the look in his mother’s eye and thought better of it. ‘I’ve seen the scratches. The bruises. You think I don’t notice, but I do. Why the hell you had to marry the woman, and so soon after meeting her, is beyond me. I thought you were intelligent, but this is stupidity, it’s…’ Fay’s jaw tightened and she shook her head, as her anger rendered her speechless.

  Luke felt himself shrivel inside and wondered who else had seen through his lies. What about his work mates, his boss, the teachers at school? He’d given all of them excuses over the last few months.

  He sighed and it felt as though the will to live was flowing out of him in his every breath, his body throbbing and sore, his mind swamped by regret. It was a little while before he could summon the energy to speak.

  ‘She got rid of all of Anna’s photos. Threw them away. I tried to talk to her about it and…’ He flinched as Fay dabbed at his hands. In all honestly, he was horrified by how quickly things had escalated, had been properly frightened about what Mel would do next when she’d cornered him in the kitchen with the bottle. That wild look in her eyes, the feral snarl on her face; she looked completely mad, somebody he didn’t recognise at all. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself but that only brought slicing pains to his ribs and he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. He’d made such a mess of everything, had let his loneliness and loss lead him and his kids into a situation he had no idea how to resolve.

  His mother was right, of course. It had happened before. But each time, he’d blamed himself, knew that he’d said the wrong thing. Knew that Mel was struggling to slip into the role of wife and mother to two children who weren’t hers, children who were still grieving for their biological mother. It had all happened too quickly, that was the problem. He should have stood his ground and waited, done things more gradually, but Mel had been so persuasive. And although she struggled to know how to parent the children, and perhaps let her tongue run away from her at times, he knew she loved them. It wasn’t the children she wanted to punish, it was only him. So it was up to him to work out a solution.

  He sighed. ‘What am I going to do, Mum?’ She looked at him, concern etched on her face, but before she could speak, Ted’s voice fractured the silence.

  ‘Ditch the bitch.’ Luke hadn’t seen him standing in the kitchen doorway, didn’t know what he’d heard, but it was obviously enough to know that Luke had been attacked by Mel. ‘It’s your house. Throw her out. It’s the only thing you can do.’ He waited a beat. ‘If you’re man enough, that is.’

  Luke bowed his head, the feeling of failure making him want to go to sleep and never wake up. That would be the easiest answer, would save him from messing up his kids’ lives.

  ‘You know you can stay here,’ Fay said, lips pursed, frowning. It was a look Luke knew from his childhood, a look that meant that you didn’t argue. ‘The kids can have a day off tomorrow. You can’t possibly think about going back there.’

  Luke squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, and told himself to man up. But his head was throbbing, his body ached and his thinking was blurred. He was the head of his family, it should be him in charge. Not his mum, or Ted. But it was clear that the dynamics weren’t like that. Not here. Not at home. Not anywhere. He swallowed hard, the heat of shame burning up his neck.

  ‘I have to go back,’ he said, dread in his heart. ‘Not tonight.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll let her calm down. But tomorrow, I’ve got to go back and see if I can sort this out.’ He’d be a failure if he didn’t and he’d be damned if he was going to give Ted another thing to crow about.

  His mum nodded, weariness in her eyes. ‘It’s all been such a rush, hasn’t it? Everything so fast. I thought maybe…’

  ‘It’s a rebound thing.’ Ted finished her sentence, a habit of his that made Luke clench his jaw. Once again, Ted behaving as if he was Fay’s son, not Luke. He made out that he was closer to her, Luke the outsider. ‘He let his dick make the decision. We never thought it would last. Did we, Ma?’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, she’s not your mother!’ Luke shouted, unable to help himself. He hated it when her called her that, but his mother never stopped him.

  Ted scoffed and put his arm round Fay’s shoulders. ‘’Course she’s my ma. Good as, anyway.’

  Fay’s fingers went to her temples, her eyes squeezed shut. ‘Can you boys just give it a rest?’ She wriggled away from Ted and glared at them both, her eyes flicking from one to the other, her face an angry scowl. ‘I have been a mother to both of you. But neither of you own me, just remember that.’ She gathered herself and held on to the back of a chair. ‘I don’t want to have this conversation again; do you hear me? I thought you two would have grown out of this by now.’ Her words were enunciated very slowly and carefully, like a threat, as she looked from one to the other. ‘Do not make me choose between you.’

  They’d had fights about this very thing when they were younger. Ted wasn’t a sharing type of guy and Luke wondered why he’d thought he would be any different fifteen years on. He knew in that moment that he couldn’t come back to the farm. He had to mak
e things work with Mel, stand up for himself and prove them wrong.

  A little later, when he’d been cleaned up as best his mum could manage and she’d filled him with hot, sweet tea to counteract the shock of being attacked, his phone pinged; a text message from Mel.

  Forgive me, darling. Please, please come home. I’ve got something I need to tell you.

  He typed his reply, determined to get to grips with the situation.

  See you tomorrow night.

  He wouldn’t take the children, though. Not until he was sure that Mel understood that this couldn’t go on.

  Twenty-Three

  Luke couldn’t take the next day off work, as two of his colleagues were on holiday, so he had to fend off comments about his injuries by saying it was a disagreement in the pub. All day, he thought about what he was going to say to Mel. She seemed to be able to mould his thoughts any which way she wanted and he had to be sure that his argument was clear in his head if he was going to fight off her verbal parries.

  As soon as he parked in the drive, the front door of the house flew open and Mel came dashing towards him.

  He wound down the window, unsure what sort of mood she was in, but at least out here his neighbours in the cul-de-sac could see what was going on. I’m safe enough, he told himself, his muscles tensing while he forced himself not to drive away.

  Her face was red and blotchy, tear-stained. He’d never seen her looking so dishevelled and vulnerable.

  ‘Are you coming in?’ Her voice was tentative, like she honestly believed he might say no, and that was enough to make him think that she would be willing to listen to what he had to say.

  He left the keys in the car, just in case he needed a quick getaway, took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Once inside the house, she flung her arms round him, her face pressed against his chest.

  ‘I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I don’t know how things got so out of hand.’ She started crying. ‘I love you so much, Luke. Please say you’ll forgive me. Please?’

  He hesitated, then, unable to help himself, he wrapped his arms around her. He wanted this to work, didn’t he? With all his heart he wanted it to work. On so many levels, it would be better if this… this incident could be forgotten, and the hole that it had ripped in their relationship repaired. Maybe it could make them stronger. Maybe it would give him the upper hand now.

  He pushed away from her, hands on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes, which were brimming with tears.

  ‘It can’t go on, Mel.’

  She pressed her lips together and nodded, her expression one of absolute regret.

  ‘You’re a mother now and—’

  Her eyes widened. ‘I’d never hurt the children. Never. You’ve got to know that, Luke. They’re as precious to me as if they were my own.’

  ‘I know. I know that. But the kids’ needs have to come first. And I know it’s difficult. Maybe you don’t like pictures of Anna around, but they need them. At the moment, with all the changes that have happened, they need to remember her.’

  Mel blinked a few times and nodded.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me.’ She looked away. ‘No, that’s not true.’

  He waited, the silence filling the hallway.

  ‘Honestly, I hate myself. I do. The thing is…’ She took a deep breath, her eyes searching his. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Luke’s chest felt tight. Too tight to breathe. That was the last thing they needed. He knew that his response was taking too long to come, but he couldn’t put his feelings into words.

  ‘That’s, um… that’s a surprise.’

  ‘It’s hormones. That’s what it is, Luke. They’ve made me super sensitive. That’s what the doctor said. I called in to see him today, you know, about my mood swings and…’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘Well, that explains things, I suppose.’

  She knocked his hands from her shoulders, took a step back, hurt written all over her face. ‘Aren’t you pleased?’

  There was a glint in her eye. A glint he didn’t like. His pulse quickened and he forced a smile.

  ‘Of course I’m pleased. It’s just…’ He couldn’t work out how it had happened. He’d been so careful, always wearing a condom, even though she’d asked him not to. He wasn’t ready yet. The kids weren’t ready. Anger welled up inside him, threatening to burst out in words he knew he would regret and he battled to close it down. This should be happy news. Maybe a baby is just what we need to bond us all together. His head throbbed with this new information, removing his ability to think straight. Is this a good thing or a really, really terrible thing? He couldn’t quite work it out, a mixture of emotions flashing through him, rendering him speechless

  ‘I know we’ve been using protection, but…’ She smiled at him through her tears. ‘These things happen.’

  Mel took his hand and led him into the kitchen, where she’d laid the table with napkins, all fancy, the smell of cooking filling the air. It all seemed so normal in there, familiar, no sign of the ugly brawl and without his physical injuries, he might have wondered if he’d imagined the whole thing.

  ‘I’ve made your favourite,’ she said, pointing to the lasagne cooling on the side, a fresh green salad and garlic bread already on the table.

  There was no doubt that she was making an effort, no doubt that she was sorry, but Luke felt something had shifted in their relationship.

  Can I trust her?

  She made him sit down and served him a delicious three-course meal, all the while chattering away as if nothing was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it’s just me finding it hard to adjust to married life and it isn’t Mel’s fault. He shouldn’t be comparing life with Mel to the life he shared with Anna, should he? Different people, different needs, different dynamics. Hormones.

  She tidied away the dessert plates and went to get another bottle of wine.

  Luke frowned. ‘Should you be drinking?’

  Mel hesitated. ‘Just tonight. I’ll stop after tonight. I just feel we need to… you know.’

  She lifted her glass. ‘To new beginnings,’ she said. He chinked his glass against hers, wondering how many times they could do this. Whether they had really sorted out their differences.

  Give this a chance, he told himself. For everyone’s sake.

  And he did.

  Over the next couple of months, things got better, the children seemed happier, the fight faded in his memory as his body healed and their love-making resumed with the passion it had held at the start. All the better, Mel said, for not having to use condoms. There was something about her demeanour, though, something that made him wonder if she really was pregnant. He remembered Anna’s morning sickness and overwhelming tiredness in the first three months. Her insatiable appetite and the thickening of her waist. All of these things were absent in Mel, who had the appetite of a sparrow. He knew every woman experienced pregnancy differently, but surely there should be some change that a new life was creating in her body. And wouldn’t she have had a scan by now? Wouldn’t there be appointments that he should be attending with her?

  One evening, when the kids had gone to bed, he couldn’t hold on to his thoughts any longer and before he could really think about it, the words that had been circling in his mind were spoken.

  ‘I don’t think you’re really pregnant, are you? I think that was just a trick to get me to come back.’

  She stared at him for a moment, then looked down and started twiddling with her wedding ring. It was a little while before she spoke. ‘I lost it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I had a bleed.’ She sighed and chewed at her bottom lip. ‘I knew it was over. The baby was dead.’ She looked at him with defiance in her eyes, and his frustration burst out of him in a stream of questions.

  ‘Have you been to a doctor? Are you sure?’ His voice hardened. ‘And why didn’t you think to tell me?’

  ‘Well, I thought…’ Her eyes slid away from his
, confirming his suspicions.

  She’s been lying. She’d never been pregnant, just used that to reel him back in. And that seed of doubt about their relationship started to grow again, its roots anchoring themselves in his thoughts. How can I ever trust her?

  She took his hand and linked her fingers with his. ‘We can try again, though, can’t we?’

  He nodded, his mind racing. One day at a time, he told himself, while he worked out how to bring the situation back on track. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she had lost the baby and it had been hormones making her temper fray, shrinking her tolerance to zero. It was the obvious explanation, because since the night of the fight, she’d been lovely to the children, taking them out for treats, patiently explaining how she wanted things done in the house, instead of snapping at them, helping them with their homework. And when he’d asked them if everything was okay, which he did on a regular basis now, they assured him that it was. She’d even started letting the dog in the lounge, and stopped fussing about the muddy paw prints in the kitchen.

  He watched and waited, tense and alert, ready to protect his family at the first sniff of danger. But nothing happened and he felt himself start to relax, allowed himself to believe that life could be good, that they had finally settled into being a family.

  Until the incident a couple of months later.

  Twenty-Four

  Three months ago

  It was in the early hours of the morning when Callum pattered into their bedroom, woken by a nightmare and needing a bit of company to get settled down again. Mel had said, on several occasions, that she couldn’t cope with children in the bed and she started getting snappy, reminding Luke about a meeting she had to go to the following morning. Callum had been upset by Mel’s disparaging remarks and had run out of the room crying, so Luke had gone after him. Mel followed them down the corridor, screaming like a banshee and scaring the poor child, who promptly wet himself.