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

by Rona Halsall

  ‘I did warn you about her,’ Ted said, his finger stabbing the air in Luke’s direction. ‘I knew she was trouble. It was all too quick. She pushed you into marriage and you let her. You stupid, weak bastard.’

  ‘Ted, calm down,’ Fay snapped, giving him a look that would freeze water. ‘In fact, why don’t you go and do something useful. You’re not helping here.’

  Ted stared at her, mouth open.

  ‘Go on.’ She waved him away. ‘Off you go.’

  Ted clamped his lips together and after a moment, he stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  When he’d gone, Fay let out a long sigh.

  ‘He’s getting worse, I swear. So much anger in the lad and always wants to have things his way.’

  Silence settled in the room.

  ‘So…’ Phil looked round the table, worry creasing his brow. ‘What are we going to do?’

  The conversation went round in circles as they talked through all the possible options, but to Luke, nothing seemed realistic, because he knew how vindictive Mel could be. That was the scary thing about all this. How far would she go?

  Finally, Fay brought the discussion to a close. ‘Okay, well, I think we need to give our brains a bit of a rest, sleep on things tonight and see how we feel in the morning.’ She looked drained and Luke knew that with her MS, stress was the worst possible thing for her, increasing the chances of a flare-up of symptoms that would leave her in bed for days. He watched his mother shuffle out of the room, holding on to furniture and the door frame to keep herself steady. As soon as she was gone, Ted came back into the kitchen and shut the door.

  Luke turned to him, frowning. ‘You’ve been listening, haven’t you?’

  Ted ignored him and sat next to Phil at the table. ‘We can’t leave things up in the air like this.’

  ‘We’ve had a good run at it,’ Phil said, staring at the table, where his fingers stroked a knot in the wood. ‘Maybe it’s time to knock it on the head. Think of something else to grow instead.’

  ‘But Ma needs the pain relief. You know we’ve tried everything else and nothing worked. She turned into a complete psycho when the doctor put her on those steroid things. That’s why we’re doing this. It’s all for Ma.’

  Luke could feel his anger bubbling up inside, Ted speaking to his father as if Luke wasn’t there, as if he was his son.

  Phil nodded. ‘Maybe we should move to America. I know a lot of states out there are giving licences to grow cannabis for medicinal use.’

  Ted gave a dismissive snort. ‘Come on, Da. Don’t be daft. They won’t let us all in, will they?’

  ‘We could go on a visitor’s visa and just stay?’

  Phil looked hopeful, no doubt thinking of Californian sunshine to finish his days.

  ‘I don’t think it’s that easy, Da. And if you’re there illegally there’ll be no healthcare. You have to have health insurance and they won’t give you that now.’ He pressed his lips together; a determined expression that Luke knew well. ‘No. We keep on doing this and we find a way to persuade Mel to go away and keep quiet. That’s what we need to do.’

  Phil got to his feet and stretched. ‘Well, good luck with that. My brain’s addled. I’m going to catch up with your mum, get off to bed. Hope I find inspiration in the night or something.’

  Luke got up as well, no intention of being left alone with Ted. ‘Look, I’ll go back tonight, just me, and see if I can smooth things over, buy us some time while I work out what to do.’

  ‘It’s not a solution, is it?’ his dad said. ‘She’ll always have this hold over you and now you can’t give her what she wants… who knows what she’ll do.’ He shook his head. ‘You be careful, son. And come home if you feel threatened in any way. Your life is what’s important here.’

  Luke nodded, but as he was driving home he didn’t feel that his life was important at all. Not when he’d ruined everybody else’s. The closer he got to the house, the more certain he became of what he must do. He would take his family on holiday, as his boss had suggested, and that would be the end of this life, the end of everyone’s misery.

  Part Three

  Now

  Twenty-Nine

  Monday

  Ted watched the police cars arrive at the holiday cottage. The second time today. He smiled to himself. Good, that meant they wanted to ask Mel some more questions. He wondered if they’d found his first clue yet, the phone in the forest, and wished he could be inside, listening to the conversation, watching Mel squirm. Because she must be feeling all sorts of emotions by now: scared, worried, and definitely angry. Perfect! Nothing less than she deserved, the mad cow.

  He was parked in the drive of a cottage down the road a little way, another holiday home by the look of the place, so he was safe to stay there for a while, watching through his binoculars. He knew by the garden that it wasn’t lived in, the overgrown lawn and tangle of shrubs giving it that uncared-for look. There were so many places like it near the farm in Wales, he could spot them a mile off.

  He waited.

  Luke had insisted that he was going to sort things out, but Ted couldn’t trust him to do it properly. As usual, it was up to him to take control, before Mel ruined all their lives.

  Thirty

  Mel needed the police officers to go away now and get on with the job of looking for her family. She was exhausted by all the questions and really needed some time to think.

  ‘Please find my children. Please,’ she said from behind her hands, which were hiding her face.

  ‘Come on,’ Inspector Stevens said to his sergeant as he stood. ‘We’ve got work to do.’ Mel glanced up and saw something in his eyes. Something that she didn’t like. Suspicion maybe? Her pulse quickened. The muscles in the inspector’s jaw tightened. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs Roberts, we’ll find them.’

  He headed for the door, Sergeant Lockett on his heels. Mel stayed in her seat and held her breath, hardly daring to believe they were going at last. She waited for the sound of the front door opening, but instead she heard the murmur of voices from the hallway. Then the sound of footsteps coming back into the kitchen. Dammit!

  She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

  ‘Do you mind if we have one more look around?’ Stevens said. ‘See if there’s anything we didn’t spot earlier? Now that we’ve got more information, well, we need to be looking for different things.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Mel said with a sniff, not looking at them as her whole body tensed. ‘Help yourselves.’ She blew her nose on what was left of her tissue while the officers headed upstairs, wondering what they might be looking for. How much do I tell them? she asked herself as she listened to the clump of footsteps above her head, the sound of doors opening and closing. There was no doubt that they had questions she couldn’t fully answer. Oh, what a mess! Tears of frustration trickled down her face and she swiped them away with the back of her hand, forcing herself to sit up straight. This was no time for self-pity. No, this was a time to take control. She pulled up her sleeves, making sure her bruises were clearly visible. Now what else can I do to make sure they believe me?

  Her nerves were in tatters; in fact, she could feel her body shaking and she still hadn’t come to a decision about what she should do next, her brain working so hard that she’d developed a splitting headache.

  Finally, she heard the police officers coming back downstairs and she really hoped they’d go now. She looked up when they came into the kitchen, tears glistening on her cheeks, hoping she presented the right image; the desperate wife and mother.

  ‘It’s all very tidy up there,’ Stevens said. ‘Is that how you found it?’

  ‘Oh no,’ Mel shook her head. ‘No, it was a tip. How you could make such a mess in such a short time is beyond me, but those kids… well, I have to say they were semi-feral. Never trained to look after their possessions and keep their bedrooms tidy. To be honest, it’s been a bone of…’ She stopped and looked down at her hands, which were clasping a
mess of damp tissues, cursing her mouth for running away with itself. You know better than that, she told herself, and nipped at her bottom lip to stop herself from saying any more.

  ‘So, Mrs Roberts, can I ask what your relationship with the children was like?’ Mel looked at the sergeant, annoyed with herself for getting it wrong and opening up a whole new line of questions. ‘Did you get on with them? It’s not easy with stepchildren, is it?’

  Mel looked away, dabbed at her eyes and softened the tone of her voice. ‘Oh yes. Lovely kids, don’t get me wrong. Just…’ She sighed. ‘I think they were finding it a little hard to accept me. The death of their mother hit them really hard. It was so sudden, you see. And, to be honest, they’re still grieving, poor little mites.’

  ‘Must have been hard for them.’

  Mel nodded and chanced a look at the sergeant, but her face was blank, giving nothing away. ‘I think Luke was a bit soft on them sometimes, because of… you know, the circumstances.’

  ‘And you were trying to correct that?’

  Mel knew Lockett was leading her onto a path that she didn’t want to go down and her headache thudded at the base of her skull. She willed the muscles in her neck to relax and gave the sergeant a sad smile. ‘Trying. But not succeeding. They were a tight little unit. The kids and Luke. They played us off against each other to get their own way.’ She sighed again. ‘Luke couldn’t see it.’

  The police officers were silent for a moment before Stevens spoke.

  ‘So, what did the place look like when you arrived? Can you describe it?’

  Mel frowned and put a hand to the ache that now circled her head, pulsing behind her eyes. ‘Well, it looked like they got out of bed and had something to eat. Then went out.’ She visualised the mess in her mind, wishing her heartbeat would slow down. ‘There were plates and pans all over the place in here. And then their clothes were all over the bedroom floors. Books and DVDs and all sorts of bits and pieces in the lounge. Shoes just kicked off.’ She looked at them, eyes wide. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I automatically tidied up, while I was waiting.’ She pressed her lips together, chin quivering. ‘To make it nice for when they got back, you see?’

  ‘Did you hoover round?’ Lockett asked.

  Mel frowned, not sure where this conversation was going. ‘No. No, I haven’t even found the hoover yet. But it didn’t need it. I think Luke must have done a bit. It was just messy. Not dirty.’

  The police officers nodded in unison, before Lockett pulled a make-up bag from behind her back. Mel felt her mouth twitch in recognition, her mind exploding with questions that ratcheted up her headache by another notch.

  ‘We found this in the bathroom, Mrs Roberts. Is it yours?’

  Mel stared at the bag, rubbing her temples, as if that might tease out the jumble of her thoughts. ‘It’s an old one. Spares.’ She frowned. ‘I’m not even sure why it’s here. I suppose Luke must have thought I’d forgotten it, but I’ve got a new one that I take when I go away to work.’

  The sergeant unzipped the bag and pulled out a little bag of powder, held it up.

  Mel’s eyes widened, a shiver of unease running down her spine.

  ‘Can you tell us what this is?’

  She was silent for a long moment, the blood draining from her face. ‘I’ve no idea. But whatever it is, it’s not mine. I didn’t even pack that make-up bag.’

  ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to take it away,’ Stevens said. ‘For analysis.’

  The officers stared at her, silence filling the room as her headache squeezed and squeezed, until all her thoughts were gone, wrung out of her like water from a wet cloth.

  ‘It’s not mine,’ Mel repeated. She sounded panicky. ‘Luke must have put it in there.’

  Stevens nodded. ‘Well, we’ll check for fingerprints, so if it is yours it would be better if you told us now.’ His stare was uncompromising, his suspicions obvious.

  ‘We were wondering if you could give us the name of the hotel you stayed at, Mrs Roberts,’ Lockett said. ‘You’ll appreciate that we have to check everyone’s movements. Nothing to worry about.’

  Mel nipped her lip so hard that she tasted the sharp tang of blood. Christ! She was cornered, trapped in her bending of the truth, and the look on the police officer’s faces showed they knew it too.

  Thirty-One

  Mel’s hands dropped to her lap, her body slumped in defeat. The silence thickened, pressing down on her. Stevens cleared his throat, a reminder that they were waiting for an answer, and she knew there was only one course of action open to her. I’m going to have to tell them.

  Her hands tangled together, fingers clutching at each other for support. ‘Um… I’ve had a bit of time to think and… well, I might have got a bit muddled with times. I was… I didn’t…’ She flicked her gaze from the inspector to the sergeant and back again, her heart hammering, as she fought against the words she had to say. Go on, tell them the truth. She took a deep breath, her words coming out in a long sigh of defeat. ‘I stayed with somebody on Saturday night. A work colleague. We left the hotel together on Sunday. Then we went to a pub for lunch. A long lunch. And then we went our separate ways.’

  There, I’ve said it. She felt so weak it took all her energy to keep herself sitting upright.

  ‘Do you mean you were having an affair?’ Lockett laid it out, stark and bare.

  Mel blushed. ‘No, no, not an affair as such.’ She stopped herself. Is that a lie? Would they know? ‘I just… slept with a client. One night. That’s all it was.’ Perspiration beaded on her forehead and she pointed at Lockett, who had that look on her face again. ‘Don’t you go judging me. Luke was hell to live with. Absolute hell. This was a make-or-break week away, but to be honest, I was coming to the conclusion that our marriage was over. As much as I love him and the children, it was…’ She stopped herself and selected her words more carefully. ‘It was a mistake that couldn’t be rectified.’ She took a moment before she carried on, sorting out her best line of defence. ‘I was upset. My client was concerned. We had a few drinks and well, one thing led to another.’ Her gaze was defiant now. ‘Luke was horrible to me. I wanted a baby and do you know what the man did?’ She looked at Stevens, then Lockett, as if they could possibly know the answer. ‘He had a vasectomy! Just to spite me.’ She nodded when she registered the shock in Lockett’s eyes.

  Yes, she thought, he did that to me. Denied me the hope of a child of my own. And that was surely the worst kind of betrayal.

  ‘I have to ask again,’ Stevens said. ‘Is it possible he’s left you? Is that what this is all about?’

  Mel shook her head, adamant. ‘I told you before – he wouldn’t do that.’ She sounded certain because she was. Luke knew she didn’t make idle threats. ‘It would leave too many loose ends. Hurt his family.’

  ‘And suicide wouldn’t? Weren’t you suggesting before that suicide was a possibility, or have we misunderstood?’ Stevens asked.

  Mel looked at the inspector, her mouth opening to speak, but no words came out. Shut up! she warned herself, deciding that it would be better if she didn’t say too much more. She decided that she really didn’t like the way this was going, the spotlight being shone on her movements. Not to mention the cocaine. How had she not found that when she’d cleaned up?

  She got up and started clearing the mugs away, putting them in the dishwasher.

  ‘We’ll just have another look down here, if that’s okay,’ Stevens said. It wasn’t a question.

  She nodded, unable to look at the man. He was trying to trick her. Trying to get her to say things that would catch her out. He thought he was so clever, but she’d been trained in manipulation, trained in neurolinguistic programming and body language. Oh yes, it was clear as day to her what he was trying to do, and it wasn’t going to work. She puffed out a breath as she switched on the dishwasher, glad of the noise to break the silence. This was about damage limitation now, making sure she came out of this in the best way possible.
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  She scowled. The little bag of powder. What was that all about? Her heart started racing at the thought. If that was cocaine, then she was in trouble, that was for sure. But how did it get in there? It could only be Luke.

  Her head was so full of worries, she felt it might crack open. She put a hand to her forehead as she gazed through the kitchen window into the garden, felt the dampness of sweat and wiped it away. Stay strong, she told herself as she gripped the edge of the worktop.

  As far as she could see, there were two potential scenarios. There’d been an accident of some sort and her family were dead, or Luke had done a runner. Of course she’d be sad if they’d died, but if this was the second option being played out, she would be properly livid. It was a possibility she hadn’t considered before, but now the police officer had mentioned it again, she had to give it some serious thought. No way is he going to leave me! She’d loved him completely up until the vasectomy incident, had trusted their wedding vows and now, if he’d run away, and made trouble for her, well he was going to face consequences. Oh yes, she’d make sure of that. No way is he keeping his children. No way on this earth.

  Lockett and Stevens came back into the kitchen and started opening cupboards, then got the bag out of the bin and started sorting through it. Mel’s eyes narrowed, her nose wrinkling at the mess. But that wasn’t her main concern. What are they thinking?

  ‘When’s bin day?’ Stevens asked.

  ‘Wednesday, I think,’ Lockett answered. She headed outside before returning a few moments later, shaking her head. ‘Nothing in the wheelie bin. Completely empty.’

  Stevens looked at Mel and she tensed when she saw the glint of suspicion in his eyes. ‘That’s a bit strange, isn’t it? Everyone produces rubbish. Especially when you’ve got kids.’