by El Edwards
“Were you on the same course?”
“Me and Toby?” She laughed. “Not a chance! He’s far cleverer than me. Masters in civil engineering. No, we met in the bar during Freshers week. Such a cliché.”
“Sweet.” I kept my tone light. “Love at first sight eh?”
“Sort of. We had our ups and downs, but ultimately, yeah, it’s always been just him and me.”
“Is there much work for a civil engineer round here? I’d have thought Cardiff would have much better career options.”
“It’s not ideal but it works for us. He spends a lot of time on the road though, site visits, meetings. That’s where he was off to when he …”
“When he disappeared?”
She nodded, her eyes filled with tears. One fat tear escaped and fell slowly across her cheek. She wiped it away. “Sorry. I’m usually okay. It’s just talking about it.”
I put my hand on her arm. “I understand. Would you rather we talked about something else for now? Tell me about his family maybe? Do they live close?”
Abigail took a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back and plastered a smile on her face. “We’re here now. Come and meet Lucy.”
As she said this we turned a corner and I saw the large blue gates of a school ahead of us. The main entrance was deserted but I could see a gang of people near the back of the building. I watched her carefully as she smiled at a few familiar faces but it wasn’t until a little girl with a shock of red hair waved at her from behind the legs of a teacher that her face broke into a broad grin. The girl pointed at Abigail and the teacher nodded, releasing her little charge into the welcoming arms of her mother.
“Lucy!” Abigail gave her daughter a squeeze and they stood like that for a moment, lost in each other’s company. When Lucy glanced over her mother’s shoulder and saw me watching her she stopped and pointed.
“Who she?”
“Lucy, this is Charlie.”
I crouched down and offered the child my hand. “Nice to meet you Lucy. Your mummy’s told me all about you.”
Lucy turned her head from me to Abigail, then back to me, paused for a moment as she drew breath, and then burst into tears.
I sighed. Here we go again!
SEVEN
Abigail pulled her daughter into another hug. “Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay.” She looked over her daughter’s head and mouthed a sorry in my direction. “Come on now, no need to cry.” Still the sobbing continued. “Whatever is the matter?”
After what felt like an eternity, the tears slowed down and, in between little sniffs, Lucy spoke to Abigail. “Lady not take you way mummy.”
“What?” Abigail laughed. “Oh silly. I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think that?”
“Lady take Daddy.”
“No, this lady is here to help. She’s going to find Daddy.” She stood up and gently led Lucy in the direction of the gate. “Come on, let’s go home.”
She walked ahead of me, holding Lucy’s hand. I followed behind at what I hoped was a respectful distance. This was exactly the scenario I’d been keen to avoid. There was something about me and little ones, we just didn’t hit it off. The walk home took twice as long thanks to the regular pauses to pick up stones and pull up socks and I was certain that if I heard ‘why?’ one more time, I was likely to go completely mental. It gave me a new found admiration for full time parents though. They were clearly saints and far superior to the likes of me.
Eventually we arrived back in the relative safety of Abigail’s front room, although the child was still looking at me like I was one of Cinderella’s ugly sisters.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Abigail asked me.
“Not for me thanks. I really should get going. I imagine you and Lucy have things to do.” I looked at Lucy and gave her what I hoped was a winning smile.
“I hungry.” Lucy stared straight at me as she spoke and I wondered for a split second if she might be talking to me but I was saved from answering by Abigail handing her a little bag of animal biscuits.
“Here’s a snack. Would you like some milk?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?” Abigail said.
“Yes pease Mummy.”
“Good girl. Here, you can watch a cartoon for a few minutes.” Abigail switched the telly on then turned to me. “Would you mind giving me a hand with something in the kitchen?”
I glanced over at Lucy before following Abigail out but the girl’s attention was focussed on the colourful images on screen.
“Sorry about today. I know it’s not been ideal but,” Abigail hesitated. “Will you help? Please?”
A wave of guilt washed over me. I hadn’t realised there was still any doubt around me taking the case, I’d known before I’d left her yesterday that I would. I resisted the urge to hug her and opted instead for a bright smile. “Of course. Sorry. Didn’t I say that yet? Sign the letter of engagement and I’m all yours.”
Abigail’s face brightened instantly. “Really? That’s brilliant! Thank you so much!”
A cry from the other room dragged our attention back to her family circumstances. I looked at my watch. “I really do need to go now though. Let me make some enquires and I’ll be in touch. Okay?”
I let out my breath in a sigh as I beat a hasty retreat. There was something about a wailing child that had the ability to totally set my nerves on the edge. Natural selection, my father would have said. Survival of the fittest. If a baby couldn't persuade its carers to look out for it, it deserved everything it got.
It was the thought of my father that saw me turn the van in the direction of my parent’s house. Either that or I was just too spineless to call my mother back. Ain't that the truth. She'd always been difficult but losing my dad had been the final straw that tipped her over the edge into complete and total bitch mode. All she needed was the fur coat and she'd easily give Cruella a run for her money. Small children and puppies beware. On a good day she was barely tolerable but her constant jibes about my inability to keep a husband wore pretty thin and I could already feel a stabbing pain between my eyebrows at the thought of what delights she might have in store for me today.
Pulling up outside what had once been my family home, I crossed my fingers that I might find her not home but I was kidding myself. She never went anywhere these days. I dragged my feet to the front door and rang the bell.
My mother’s face peered out from behind the door and when she saw it was me she scowled.
“Not dead then,” she said as she led me into the kitchen.
“Lovely to see you too.” I glanced around and took in the mess. Every surface was covered in a combination of half chopped ingredients and saucepans. “Are you expecting company?”
“Ha! As if you didn't know. Your sister is coming to dinner. Bringing that new young man of hers.”
This was news to me. I’d long since given up trying to keep up with my baby sister’s love life. The last I’d heard she was dating a paramedic. My sister Frances was the good girl in the family, the golden girl who could do no wrong. Choosing to keep ninety per cent of her love interests under wraps, I knew it must be fairly serious if she’d chosen to bring this one home to meet our mother.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” I said, grasping onto any excuse that might allow me to skip the Spanish Inquisition.
“You don’t have to Charlotte. There’s plenty enough here for everyone. Why don't you ring the girls and see if they want to join you here for tea later?”
“Can’t I’m afraid. Drama tonight. Louise won’t want to miss it. Besides, we’re paid up for the term.”
“That’s a shame,” she said, sounding like it was anything but. I knew she liked to have Frances all to herself.
I gave her a cursory kiss on the cheek, made the usual promises to call, and was soon back in the safety of my van. Phew! Made it! I looked back at the house and was surprised to see my mother at the window watching me. Weird. Now what was that about?
EIGHT
When I got home and walked into a full scale argument between Louise and Grace, all thoughts of my mother were chased from my head. I had bigger problems to contend with. Psychoanalysing my sister and her relationship with Mum would have to wait until another time. When things had eventually calmed down and all three of us were fed, I went back through the forms I’d collected from Abigail and made arrangements to meet with Rob, one of the local police detectives who owed me a favour. In exchange for letting him try and sneak a peek down my top, he kept me up to date with all the latest happenings and that included any new cases they had. Even if he hadn’t been involved with the search for Toby Rogers, I was sure he could get me the most up to date information.
And so it was, the following morning, that I found myself sitting in a greasy spoon near the train station, awaiting his arrival. I’d already eaten but I knew why Rob had suggested meeting here. The Railway Inn did a mean cooked breakfast and you could be sure I’d be buying. It was as I was contemplating ordering a second coffee that a figure appeared next to me and pulled back the chair with a screech.
I looked up. “You’re late.”
“G’morning to you too. Lovely to see you this fine morning.” He hovered over my shoulder and I instinctively pulled my cardigan closed.
“Sit down would you?” If I was buying breakfast he could sod off trying to guess the colour of my bra.
“What’s got your knickers in such a twist?”
I shrugged. “Nothing. I’ve just got lots to do and you’re late.”
This wasn’t true. I didn’t have a single lead yet, Rob was the first person I’d spoken to, but I was itching to get started and didn’t appreciate being messed around. The waitress came over and I listened as Rob rattled off his breakfast order. She turned to me.
“Just another coffee please. Black this time.”
Pleasantries over with I gave Rob what I hoped was my most piercing look. “What do you know about Toby Rogers.” I took a photo out of the folder I’d prepared from Abigail’s information and showed it to him.
“Hmm, I feel like I should know this one. What’s his story?”
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me. Reported missing six months ago by his wife, a Mrs Abigail Rogers, my client. She says your lot aren’t doing their job properly, wants me to see what I can find.”
“Missing person eh. Vulnerable?”
I shook my head. “Not especially.”
“Been any contact? Ransom demand? Suicide note?”
“Nope, nothing. He just went to work one morning and never came home.”
“Weird.”
“Is that really the best you can do?” The waitress appeared with my coffee and the food for Rob. I waited while she arranged his toast and gave him sauce. When she was gone I gestured to the food he was now tucking into. “I buy you breakfast and all you can give me is weird?” I made air quotes and rolled my eyes at him.
“What do you want me to say? I don’t even remember the guy. I’ll have a look at his file when I get back to the nick but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
“Can you at least tell me the procedure? Would they have done a phone trace? Looked at his bank records? Maybe searched his house and talked to the wife?”
Rob chewed slowly and took a sip of tea before answering. “Come on, you know the procedure Charlie. He’s low risk. We can’t do a trace on someone low risk, it costs an absolute bloody fortune and the paperwork is a pig!”
I sighed. Of course I knew that, I just wanted to hear a different answer, hoped that maybe something about Abigail or Toby might have stuck in his mind, to give me something to go on.
“What did his wife say about it all? You trust her?” It was Rob’s turn to give me a pointed look.
“Just that they were love’s young dream. No way he’d choose to leave her and the kids like that.” I chose not to answer his second question. How could I admit to a police officer that there was something suspicious about her? Even if it was only Rob, he’d feel compelled to act on anything I told him.
“And you don’t buy that?”
“Call me cynical but have you ever met anyone who’s actually that happy? The perfect marriage with the perfect kids? Do me a favour!”
“Spoken like a true divorcee.” Rob smiled and caught my eye, his hands held up in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just saying, maybe your perception of marriage is a little skewed.”
“But I …”
“Understandably so. I get it. Just cut the lady some slack until I pull up the file. Okay?”
I nodded. “Of course. I’ve been nothing but sweetness to her. Poor woman’s missing her husband. I’m just waiting for the plot twist and was hoping you’d be able to help find it.”
Unofficially of course. Rob and I both knew that anything he told me was strictly off the record but we had something of an agreement. He told me what I needed to know about missing people and I kept out the way when the aforementioned missing person was someone they were actively seeking. My ‘no find, no fee’ policy meant that he and I rarely found ourselves looking for the same people. My clients tended to be motivated by money. Specifically, searching for someone who had skipped town with it. Rob and his colleagues were more interested in the kind of missing people who all too often ended up being found without a pulse. The thought made me shudder and cross my fingers. For all my doubts about Abigail, I really didn’t want to think about how this one might end up back in Rob’s jurisdiction.
NINE
Having sent Rob back to work, I dialled Abigail’s home number and listened as her overly cheerful voice informed me that no-one was available to take my call right now. Blah, blah, blah. I hated answering machines so hung up. What I really wanted to do next was start talking to some of Abigail and Toby’s friends and family. I needed to paint a picture of their family life. Getting Abigail’s permission to visit her parents had merely been a courtesy and since she wasn’t taking calls, it was one I was happy to skip. I looked again through the file, found the address I needed and added it to the sat nav on my phone. Based on current projected traffic conditions I could be there within the hour. Perfect!
As remote as people think South Wales is, one big advantage is that, thanks to the motorway, everywhere is relatively close to everywhere else and even if you don’t exactly know where you’re going, so long as you get your car pointing in the right direction, sooner or later you’ll spot a place name you recognise. This was true of my journey to Abigail’s family home. I’d never heard of the tiny village but knowing that it was vaguely near Bridgend, I was all set.
As I drove I took in some of the signs along the way, trying to spot the turning for Toby’s last known sighting. According to Abigail’s forms, he’d been working on a construction site somewhere along the M4. I made a mental note to call in the service stations with his photo. With all the travelling Abigail said he did, he had to stop somewhere. He didn’t have the most memorable looking of faces but maybe, if I was very lucky, someone might remember him. Forty-five minutes later I pulled in front of a small detached bungalow. I tried ringing Abigail once more, just in case, but when her cheery voice kicked in for the second time that morning I hung up. I grabbed my bag and headed up a little path that led to the front door.
After listening to the doorbell sing one of those annoying chirpy little tunes, I saw a figure approach the door. A lady answered, presumably Abigail’s mother. It was then that I realised I’d totally forgotten to check what Abigail’s last name had been before she became Mrs Toby Rogers. I felt my face flush. I hated it when I made myself look like an idiot.
“Hi there, I’m Charlie Diamond.”
“Whatever you’re selling we’ve got more than enough of it.”
“I’m not selling anything. You’re Abigail’s mother? Abigail Rogers?”
“Yes.” A look of panic flashed across the lady’s face. “Is she okay?”
“Oh sorry, yes of course, she’s fine.” I took
one of my cards out of my pocket and held it out. “I’m a private investigator. Abigail’s asked me to look into Toby’s disappearance. I wondered if I might come in and we can have a little chat?”
“You want to talk to me? About Toby?”
I nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Well I don’t know. I’d have a check with my husband. Wait right there would you?”
I watched as she closed the door, leaving me standing on the wrong side of it.
After what felt like hours, the door opened again and Abigail’s mum stood to one side. “Please come in. My husband will see you in the drawing room. Can I get you some refreshments?”
I bit my top lip to stop myself from laughing out loud. Drawing room? In a bungalow? It was like something from a bad fifties sitcom.
“No, nothing for me thanks. I’ve not long finished a coffee Mrs James.”
I mentally congratulated myself for having had the foresight to check through my notes while waiting to be admitted and followed as I was led along the hall. I’d imagined the drawing room to be grand with high ceilings and ornate oak furniture so when Mrs James led me into a poky little lounge with mismatched furniture and a squat, slightly scruffy looking man sitting in the corner, I couldn’t help but grin.
I turned my grin into what I hoped passed for a warm smile and offered the man my hand. “Mr James? Charlie Diamond. Thank you for seeing me.”
He ignored my hand and cut straight to the point. “What’s all this about?”
“I’m helping your daughter Mr James. Abigail?” I didn’t know how many daughters he had but figured it never hurt to clarify. “She wants me to help her find Toby.”
“That's very generous of you. Friend of hers?”
“It's my job Mr James.” I handed him my card. “Private investigator.”
“You any good?” He scowled.
“I like to think so. I mean, my track record’s pretty solid. Did you want to take references?”
