by Carla Kovach
There was a knock at the door. Brooke. She always tapped twice in quick succession. His heart buzzed with excitement. He grabbed the tea towel off the side, folded it up and then placed it neatly next to the cooker. He hadn’t been expecting her to call by. Maybe she’d been thinking about him as much as he had her. He checked his reflection in the stainless-steel splash plate behind the cooker and jogged to the door.
‘Brooke, come in,’ he said as he leaned down and kissed her. ‘I was just cleaning up. The kids had demolished the place.’
‘I know how that feels. One minute everything’s clean, the next there’s rubbish everywhere,’ she replied as she looked up at him. He closed the door. ‘Joe’s gone to Jake’s for a couple of hours. Where are Max and Heidi?’
‘With Cathy. Gone out for breakfast in town.’ Luke felt his heart fluttering and his desire increasing as Brooke smiled and backed up against the wall.
‘So, you’re alone?’
‘Yes.’
They stood in silence. Luke felt his muscles tensing up as he tried hard not to fidget. ‘Shall I get you a drink?’
‘Shh.’ Brooke placed her finger over Luke’s mouth. He felt her body heat penetrating through his clothing. She slipped off her coat and passed it to him. As he dropped the coat on the hook, he inhaled her fragrance, then turned and grabbed her face before kissing her hard. She tugged at his shirt and began to run her fingers up his back. Her touch felt electric, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since first meeting Debbie. There had been a one-night stand about a year ago, after a night out in a bar, but he’d been drunk and he wasn’t even sure if he’d managed anything. It would remain a mystery forever.
As they kissed harder, he grabbed her jumper and pulled it over her head. He steered her towards the living room, towards the settee. As he stepped across the rug he trod on something hard and yelled.
‘What is it?’
Luke pulled away. ‘Max and his bloody Lego.’ As he bent down to pick up the plastic brick, he caught sight of another photo of Debbie, lying with baby Max lying on a towel in the garden, on a sunny day. He remembered that day as being perfect. His wife and son; he’d been so proud of her. What the hell was he doing?
Brooke began to caress him over his jeans, leaning in to kiss him. He began to kiss her back, but then abruptly stopped, pulling away. ‘I can’t do this,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’
She stepped back and slumped down on the settee, took a deep breath and looked away. He knew he’d hurt her.
‘I know we probably need to take this slowly,’ she replied as she snatched her jumper off the floor. He stroked her blonde hair, which now lay tangled over her face. She looked back at him and laughed. ‘What are we like?’ She began straightening her clothes up and pushing her hair back behind her ears. ‘I suppose you’re expecting the kids back any time?’
He remained silent and looked away.
‘Is it something I did?’
‘It’s not you,’ he said, sitting down beside her.
‘I understand. I know what it’s like to lose someone.’ Brooke looked towards the photo on the hearth. ‘I know I can never replace her. You can’t ever replace him. We’re not looking for replacements. You know something, though? We deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy.’ She kissed his cheek.
He leaned in and buried his head in her chest. It felt so right holding Brooke, but it felt deceitful that he’d desired her. ‘Thanks for being so understanding. Shall we have that drink?’
‘I’d love a cuppa,’ she replied, a tear rolling down her cheek. ‘Or maybe a brandy,’ she said under her breath.
Luke walked out to the kitchen and stared at his reflection in the window. His hair was ruffled and his shirt was half undone. In the hallway, the coats had fallen off the hooks. He was sure he’d hung Brooke’s coat up properly. He put the kettle on and opened the drawer containing the photo. ‘Sorry, Deb,’ he whispered as he grabbed the photo and placed it back on the shelf. The doorbell rang and Brooke answered the door.
‘Daddy, we’ve had sausages, bacon and eggs and beans and what was that other thing we had, Nanny?’
‘Whoa. You don’t have to shout so loud, little man,’ Luke replied.
‘It was a hash brown,’ said Cathy as she picked up the coats and placed them back on the hook.
‘Max doesn’t know what a hash brown is,’ Heidi said.
‘Shut up,’ Max replied, slapping her on the arm.
‘Right, little sprog. I’m going to get you. Run, sprog, because I’m coming for you,’ Heidi shouted as she held out her arms and roared like a monster. Max turned and ran up the stairs, giggling and screaming.
Cathy passed Luke a couple of bags. ‘There was a pre-Christmas sale on and I couldn’t resist.’ She pulled out two Christmas jumpers, one for Max and one for Heidi.
‘They’re beautiful,’ Brooke said.
‘So, what have you both been up to?’
Luke glanced at Brooke, noticing her wet eyes. ‘Nothing. Just making tea. Do you want some?’
‘I’m all tea’d out, I’m afraid. At my age, too much tea means too many trips to the loo and I still have to pop to the supermarket and pick up a few bits.’
‘Thanks for taking them out this morning. They love going out with you.’
‘I have a little secret. I love going out with them too. Anyway, I have to dash. I’ll pop by for a cuppa another time. Enjoy the rest of your day.’ She winked at Luke as she turned and walked towards the door. Luke smiled uncomfortably. Cathy paused and looked over at Brooke. ‘Are you both okay?’
‘We’re fine,’ Brooke replied, forcing a smile.
‘Okay, I’ll leave you both to it. Bye, kids,’ she called out.
The children didn’t respond. They were still running around upstairs, screaming and shouting. Cathy waved and left.
‘There goes my tidy house. I’m sorry—’
‘It’s okay, really it is. I’m just being silly. She’s lovely – Cathy, I mean. You’re so lucky to have her,’ Brooke said.
‘I know I am. I’m so lucky to have a lot of people in my life. I really am sorry about earlier.’
‘It’s probably a good thing it didn’t happen. Look at the timing. What would she be thinking if she’d walked in on something she couldn’t unsee?’ Brooke stared out of the window. He’d hurt her, he knew it. He had to right things. He couldn’t lose her.
‘She’s already thinking it. That woman knows everything. The way she looked at me, my messy hair, and my shirt. She knew. She always knows.’ Luke paused and stared out of the window, at the spot in the garden where Debbie was tending to Max in the photo. ‘There’s something I need to do.’
‘What’s that?’
Luke didn’t answer. Instead, he walked to the living room and picked up the photo from the hearth. He could sense that Brooke was behind him, wondering what he’d meant, so he turned his back on her. Some things he needed to be alone for, and this was one of them.
‘I’ll finish making the tea then, shall I?’ she asked.
‘Please.’
As he heard her taking the mugs off the mug tree and setting them on the worktop, he looked at the photo of Debbie and Max. ‘It’s not that I don’t love you, Deb. It’s just… You understand, don’t you?’ he whispered. He held the photo to his heart and stared out of the window.
As he snapped out of his thoughts, he stared back at the man he now noticed in the distance. Sitting on a wall several houses down, with a dark hood covering his head and upper body, he sent a shiver down his spine. The scarf he wore covered his mouth, but his stare felt intrusive. The man stood and walked away. Luke watched as he reached the end of the street and looked back once before disappearing around the corner.
‘Are you alright, Luke?’ Brooke shook his arm.
‘What?’
‘I called you twice to say that the tea was made.’
‘Sorry.’
Brooke reached out. ‘Shall I put the photo back on the fireplace
?’
‘What? No. That’s why I came in here. I’m going to put the photos away for now.’
She looked down, passed him a cup of tea and took the photo from his limp hand. She walked over to the fireplace and put the photo back where it belonged. ‘The people we love from our past are part of our children’s lives. She should stay. She’s their mother.’
‘I know, but I’m scared I’ll never be able to move on,’ he replied, as a tear ran down his cheek. ‘Look at me. I have you, a beautiful woman who wants to—’
‘Don’t say any more. I’ll not have your kids resenting me if all the photos go. The time will come when you’re ready. I’ve been where you are. I’ve grieved, mourned, thrown things in temper, even felt like ending it all. It’s a good job I had Joe, he’s been my rock. The time will come when you can move on, and that photo will still be there. Your kids need that photo there. They need their mother in their life.’
‘What have I ever done to deserve you?’ He put his tea on the window ledge and squeezed Brooke. She held him back. He glanced over her head, out of the window. The man hadn’t come back. He reached across and pulled the curtain slightly as an uneasy feeling washed through him.
Fourteen
‘I did what you wanted. I think the police should figure out that Florence has someone to stay with, for now,’ he said with a grin as he entered and sat on the end of her bed. She edged away from him, forcing her malnourished frame into the tiniest space possible.
There was hope. He’d done as she asked. She wanted to scream with joy, but that joy was soon quelled by doubt. Had she put her family in danger? Had she done the right thing? She wanted to punch the wall until her knuckles bled. Her chaotic thoughts threatened to expose themselves as she clenched her hand into a fist under the sheet.
He leaned into a bin bag and pulled out a brand-new quilt, a couple of pillows and some thick fleece blankets. ‘It’s about time you had something new. Let me take these dirty blankets away.’ Debbie shivered as he pulled the soiled blankets off her and deposited them in the bin bag. ‘Oh dear. It’s been a bit of a blood bath here. I’d better clean you up.’ He left the room, and she listened to the tap running as he filled a bowl.
The damp that she’d been lying in was getting cold now that she’d shuffled off it. The broken fan in the corner of the room led straight to the outdoors, allowing a little ray of light to shine through, especially now the trees were bare. She flinched as she moved further away from the dampness before taking a long look at what she’d been lying in. An array of lumps and blood stained the sheets underneath. She began to yank at them, pulling them from under her. As she twisted to grab the corner of the sheet that was under her bottom, she yelped in pain. She reached down and examined the hot stabbing pain that came from within and she knew she needed stitches. She closed her legs and began to pull at the sheet again, finally releasing it. Shuffling towards the edge of the bed, over the stain, she threw the clogged sheets into the bag. She needed to try and keep as clean as possible to reduce the chance of infection. He whistled as he reappeared with a bowl of water and an old, soiled flannel.
‘Move closer,’ he instructed. She shuffled, dragging the chain with her, until she was sitting on the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor. He kneeled in front of her, lifted up her nightdress and began to flannel down her stomach before moving on to her groin. She could kick him now, but what then? Run until the chain pulled her back? And then a beating, no food? He rinsed the flannel in the bowl and the water instantly turned a dirty brown. He reached back up and began to rub the top of her legs. ‘A bit of stubborn dirt,’ he said, scrubbing hard. He washed her legs, then her feet. ‘There. You’re all better now. Looking splendid.’ He dragged the dirty nightdress over her head, revealing her thin, naked frame, then grabbed a new flannel nightdress from where he’d dropped it on the floor. He fed it over her head, lifting her hair through once she’d put her arms in.
‘Thank you,’ Debbie replied.
‘I need you to stand against the wall while I make the bed.’ She whimpered as he pulled her to a standing position and led her over to the wall. The chain had reached its limit. ‘Wait there.’ He began to put the new sheets on the bed, followed by the coverless quilt. He threw the fleece blankets over the top and patted them down, smoothing out the lumps in the stuffing. ‘Lovely. See, I do care for you.’
Cold tears trailed down her cheeks as she fought the urge to break down. If she let her emotions out, he’d punish her. She wiped her tears away with the backs of her hands.
‘Do you want to swill your hands before I remove the bowl?’
She stared at the dirty water and shook her head. Her fingernails were black and her hands were gritty, but she didn’t want to plunge them into the filthy, bloody water. ‘Can I please have a shower soon?’ she asked.
‘I’ve bloody well washed you, what more do you want?’ he yelled, throwing the flannel to the floor.
‘I’m sorry. I need to be more grateful,’ Debbie said as she shuffled back to the bed. ‘Please don’t be upset with me. I didn’t mean anything. I know you treat me well.’
‘Do you love me?’
Debbie looked up at him. He walked towards her, sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand under her chin. She nodded.
‘I know you love me, but you must say it. You know I like to hear the words.’
Debbie swallowed the mucus that had built up in the back of her nasal passages. She needed him to leave so that she could cry.
‘I love you,’ she said as she began to weep.
‘Why do you cry?’ He paused. ‘You wonder about me, don’t you? I went there today, to Luke’s house. There are things you need to know.’
Debbie felt her heart pounding as she hoped desperately for more information. If she asked, he’d know she was eager and that she loved Luke. He knew where Luke and her children lived, and she wasn’t going to put them all in danger now. ‘I don’t love him, I love you. I just wonder, that’s all.’
‘He doesn’t care. He has a new life, a new lady. I told you, he never loved you as much as I do. I did what you wanted though. The police have been given enough information.’
‘Thank you,’ she said as she slumped back.
‘Don’t worry, my love. We’ll have her back one day.’ He lay next to her on the bed and held her tight. Pain shot through her body as he squeezed her and kissed her tangled hair. ‘You’re the only person for me. If something happened to you, I’d never find another. That’s what makes our love more special. I love you more than life. I’ll never let you go.’
Debbie flinched as someone hammered on the door below. ‘Son. Are you in your office?’
He jumped up off the bed. ‘Don’t murmur a word. If she hears, she’ll go a little mad. She’s sick, you know. If you upset her, I may have to end her and that would be your fault. Nothing can come between our love. Do you understand?’
Debbie stared at him. He grabbed her hair. Wrenching her head back, he kissed her hard on the lips. She almost gagged as his tongue rolled around hers. ‘Do you understand?’ She nodded as tears spilled from her eyes.
‘Why are you crying? Stop it.’
Choking sobs spilled from her mouth, filling the quiet room. As he stood, he slapped her hard. ‘I said stop it. Or do you want another one?’
As her silent tears fell, Debbie shook her head.
‘Coming, Ma.’
‘Can you go to the shops? We have no bread,’ the old woman yelled. ‘Is there someone else there? Who’s there?’
He grabbed Debbie’s chin and squeezed. ‘Enough,’ he said as he pushed her back and left.
His smell was all around her, in her hair, in her nightdress, on her tongue. Even the stench of his acrid breath still hung in the air.
‘No one’s here and you don’t need groceries, Ma. I got everything we need the other day, remember?’ He paused. ‘Yes, you do remember. Come on, Ma, it’s cold and you’ll get ill. Let’s get you back into t
he house.’
The main door slammed shut and she heard him lock it. Once again, she was alone with her thoughts, which had taken an even darker turn than usual. Luke had found someone else. She imagined her photos being taken down, Heidi and Max having a new mother, a new family, maybe. Luke was the devoted type. If he met the right woman, she knew he’d marry again, and he’d be the perfect husband. But he was her husband. She punched the wall and heard her knuckles crack. ‘No,’ she yelled as she scrunched her pillow tightly and sobbed into it. ‘I want my babies,’ she cried as she thought of Max and Heidi. She wanted to hold them and tell them how much she loved them.
She cried into the darkness. The darkness was still, the darkness was plain; the darkness gave her nothing back. It incubated an evil sickness with which she’d been infected for many rotten years – four winters. She closed her eyes and entered a better world. The one where she had a big homecoming, the one where she was rescued, the one where he slipped up and allowed her to escape. That world was much better and it was where she’d stay, for now.
Fifteen
Gina grabbed another tissue and sneezed into it. ‘Right, Baby Jenkins.’ She lifted the file that she’d retrieved from the archives earlier in the day. The work notes were all bunched up with an old elastic band. She removed the band and opened them up. All the original statements were there, as were the DNA results and photos of Deborah and her family. There was also a batch of witness statements, and a map of where the shoe was found, outlining the direction Deborah would’ve taken to head home.
They interviewed her husband, Luke, her neighbours and colleagues, parents from the school her children attended and her friends, but they’d added nothing to the case. Deborah had simply disappeared. No one was out of place and they’d failed to find a convincing motive. Deborah had a loving family and had been described as happy with her life by all who knew her.
