by Louise Voss
I sat back in my chair, panting with shock.
There was no way I was putting up with this without a fight.
It was some time later, when I’d spent many long minutes outside, staring into the river and visualising the remnants of my life with Ed flowing away on the current, that I made a decision. I realised with a sinking heart that there was nothing for it: I would have to revisit my original investigation into Shelagh’s disappearance. It had always been a Pandora’s Box I’d never wanted to open, in case I discovered I’d somehow made a terrible mistake. But now I knew I had to. I had no choice.
I needed to talk to Shelagh’s sister – if I could find her. I remembered we still had Shelagh’s old address book, useful for Christmas cards to Ed’s distant relatives, so I hurried back into the house, retrieved it from the study and searched through from the As, since I couldn’t remember Ellen’s last name.
I didn’t have to go very far, just to the Bs, and found Ellen Brigstock Lamb. That was definitely her – Brigstock was Shelagh’s maiden name. But it was an address in Scotland, written in Shelagh’s small, careful handwriting. Damn – Ed had told me a few years ago that she’d moved. Where, though? I couldn’t remember. All I recalled was Ed saying ‘good riddance to that evil cow’, when he’d mentioned it – so it must have been a fair distance. He only knew because Ben told him he’d had a birthday card from her. Ben couldn’t stand her either, so it was highly unlikely he’d have kept her change of address.
Still, at least I now had her surname.
Where had she moved to? I racked my brains so hard it almost hurt. I had a feeling it was to an island off the British coast somewhere. Isle of Man? Orkney? Jersey? How could I find out?
I dashed back to my laptop and opened up Facebook. I’d never had my own account – it was frowned on in the police as being a security risk, more so back in the early days when it was a new invention and seemed mostly to consist of poking people and buying cartoon farm animals. Since then I couldn’t take the chance of any of my old police colleagues stumbling across me, even under a different name. Now though, needs must.
I set up an account with a random fake name – Christine Ellingham – and did a search for Ellen Brigstock Lamb. I found a listing for her immediately. In Alderney. Bingo! I’d known it was an island. I felt the familiar thrill of discovering something new, as if my old police skills were beginning to wake up again.
There were no contact details though, and the profile didn’t yield much other information. Her profile pic was an empty beach at sunset. I clicked on Message and a dialogue box appeared. Was it that easy to contact someone, even if you weren’t friends with them on the site? It seemed it was.
I hesitated, fingers poised over the keyboard, wondering how to word it. Eventually I typed:
Dear Ellen, I hope you read this. You’ll see this message coming from someone called Christine. But my real name is Lynn and as you may be aware I married Ed Naismith after your sister was declared officially dead. I’m sorry to intrude but I’d really like to speak to you about him. He’s now vanished, too, after some pretty weird incidents, and it occurred to me that you might possibly be able to shed some light on the situation. I’d be most grateful if you would meet me – I can come to you in Alderney. Thank you. I very much hope to hear from you, either by writing back on here, or on my mobile.
I put in my mobile number and signed off the message, wondering how Ellen would feel when – if – she received it. She’d been the one who badgered the police to investigate Ed in the first place, so she obviously hadn’t had a good relationship with him.
I couldn’t sit around waiting for a reply so I simultaneously began defrosting the freezer – long overdue, the door barely closed – packing a suitcase and Googling the best way to get to Alderney. There were direct flights from Southampton, but I wanted to fly from Gatwick, which meant I’d have to go via Guernsey. That decided me: I’d stop over at Maddie and Geoff’s in Jersey too. Might as well. It would be so good to see them; grounding. I needed that bit of stability right now.
I booked air tickets departing the following morning, paying with my credit card, then called Naveeta and asked her to have the cat for me, telling her I’d explain when I brought him over.
Before I’d even finished packing, I discovered several more things regarding Ed’s disappearance, all of them fuelling my rage and suspicion. It wasn’t just his passport and the savings that had gone – his favourite pair of deck shoes was missing, as well as his birth certificate and a boar’s head family crest signet ring that used to belong to his dad. He’d hardly have randomly taken all those items to lunch with Bill.
You bastard, became my constant chant as I whirled about the house. ‘You bastard,’ as I aimed my hairdryer at the ice on the inside of the freezer, until I was able to break off chunks of it to lob hard into the sink. ‘You bastard,’ as I futilely rang his mobile for the thirtieth time and emailed him for the twentieth.
Yet, at the same time and despite evidence to the contrary, I wasn’t able to stop entertaining the belief that I could be wrong. He might well be lying dead somewhere, murdered by the same person who garrotted Mike. I veered back and forth between fear for his life and a sixth sense that he’d been fooling me for years; see-sawing up and down on a pivot of heartbreak.
Or maybe he’d discovered I’d slept with someone else and had left me?
The house was completely silent, apart from the sound of the last pieces of melting ice from the freezer drip-drip-dripping into the tray on the kitchen floor. My phone rang into the silence and I lunged for it, praying it was Ed.
But it was Adrian, returning my call. It was so good to hear his voice again, as reassuring and calm as I’d hoped.
‘I really don’t think he could have faked it, do you?’ he said almost immediately. ‘They’d never have accepted him in a medical trial if he was faking it, they’d have rumbled him in a heartbeat. And anyway, he couldn’t possibly have faked brain scans. You’re bound to be stressed and panicked because he’s missing, but don’t fear the worst.’
But his calm voice wasn’t having the desired effect – and I realised I was snarling my reply. ‘He’s emptied the savings account. His passport’s missing! If he’s done the dirty on me, I’m going to fucking find out, and I’m going to kill him.’
‘Woah, woah, hold on. You’re putting two and two together and getting four hundred. One thing at a time, eh? He might have been under duress when he took the money out, maybe he got into some kind of debt when he was ill? Perhaps he took the passport with him to withdraw the money?’
‘He transferred it online, into an account I didn’t recognise. I think he set up a new one.’
‘OK, so maybe the passport’s just got lost – you said he hasn’t been abroad for years.’
I sighed and took several deep breaths. ‘It’s possible, I suppose.’
‘All I’m saying, gorgeous, is don’t complicate things. “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof”, as my dear old mum used to say. Just sit tight, don’t go haring off. He’ll need you to be at home for when he gets back.’
‘If he does.’
‘Happy to meet up, if that’ll help? How about a massage and a hot bath – strictly platonic, of course?’
I huffed, but managed a smile. ‘Platonic. Yeah, if you say so…’
‘It would be!’ he protested. ‘If you wanted it to.’
‘Thanks for the offer, Ade, really. And the advice. You’re probably right, I’m getting ahead of myself. But I’ve already booked flights to the Channel Islands. I’m going to Jersey to see Maddie. I’ll go crazy if I sit here on my own waiting – and anyway I don’t think it’s wise to hang out with you right now, tempting as it is.’
‘Very tempting,’ he agreed. ‘Well, do what you need to. And remember I’m here if you need me. Just don’t overthink things, not yet.’
We hung up, but I didn’t feel at all placated. Usually I’d trust Adrian’s counsel implicitl
y, but I could tell he thought it ludicrous – the idea that Ed had been faking and that it was all a massive lie. He was probably right.
By the evening, the freezer was clean and as empty as our savings account. I crammed a reluctant Timmy into his cat carrier and called in next door to see Suzan. She stood wringing her hands in the doorway as I explained the situation as concisely as I could, without actually telling her my suspicions.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to leave him here, and I’ll just pop in and feed him twice a day? Won’t it be stressful for him to be relocated, if you’re not going for long?’
She gestured towards Timmy, who was mewing at my feet. A small cloud of cat hair floated out of the basket’s wire sides, a sure sign that he was indeed stressed.
‘Thanks … but I don’t know how long I’ll be away, and he tends to wander off if there’s no one in the house to entertain him. I don’t want to have to worry about him going AWOL too!’
‘I wish I could have him for you, but, you know…’
I couldn’t tell if her eyes were watering from the proximity to the cat hair, or out of concern for Ed. Timmy was a particularly allergenic feline, it seemed.
‘I know. I wouldn’t expect you to, don’t worry about it. But please keep an eye on the house, and if you see Ed, call me straightaway, day or night?’
She hugged me, sneezing into my shoulder. ‘Of course. I’ll keep my eyes peeled, I promise. And my ears, if you can peel ears.’
I drove away with Timmy in his basket on the passenger seat, watching my house recede in the rearview mirror, feeling slightly comforted by having Suzan as my own personal neighbourhood watch.
Next stop Naveeta’s. I hadn’t intended to tell her about anything other than the fact that there was still no news regarding Ed’s whereabouts – but I’d forgotten Naveeta’s ability to worm gossip out of a stone.
‘Are you all right, darling?’ she asked, when I arrived, her smooth, long-nailed hand on my forearm, her nine-year-old twin girls lurking around her knees, hiding behind her skirt like much younger children would. They had all rushed out onto the driveway to meet me. ‘What’s going on? You look terrible. Come in, come in! Are there any updates?’
She arranged her features into a pouty, concerned expression that suddenly irritated me so wildly that I wondered again if I was menopausal. These mood swings were exhausting – but, I supposed, I didn’t know how you were meant to feel when your husband had probably done a runner with your life’s savings…
‘No news,’ I said, biting down a sarcastic apology for not looking my best. ‘Listen, thanks for taking Timmy.’
I allowed myself to be ushered into the hall, where the twins pounced on Timmy’s cat carrier and were trying to undo it and extract him. ‘Girls, best if you shut him in a spare room with a litter tray for a couple of days – don’t let him out here otherwise he’ll try and make a run for it.’
‘We don’t want to lock him in the spare room!’ wailed Bina. ‘That will be horrible for him!’
I had a flashback to all the nights I locked Ed in the spare room. ‘He’ll be fine,’ I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. You bastard! I forced myself to think instead. If he had really done this, he was a shit and I wished I’d bloody well locked him in and thrown away the key.
‘They prefer small spaces when they’re in an unfamiliar place, I promise you. Once he feels at home there, you can let him roam a bit more.’ I turned to Naveeta. ‘Don’t let him out of the house for at least three weeks though, will you?’
Naveeta looked alarmed. ‘Three weeks? How long are you going to be gone?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’m going to visit Ben this evening. Then I’m going and stay with Maddie if there’s still no news. I can’t sit in that house on my own waiting to see if he comes back; I just can’t.’
I certainly wasn’t going to tell her about visiting Ellen.
‘Where do you think Ed is, darling?’ Naveeta asked, as though Ed was a lost wallet. I half expected her to say, ‘And when did you last have him?’
Good question though. Had I ever really had him?
‘I don’t know. Perhaps he’s run off to Australia with April. You heard that she’s gone to some kind of commune over there?’
‘I know!’ Naveeta, seeming to forget the gravity of the situation, looked like she was settling in for a gossip and then realised what I had actually said. ‘No, of course he hasn’t! Why would you say that?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘I don’t really think they have. But it’s a bit of a coincidence that they’ve both disappeared at the same time.’
‘April hasn’t disappeared, she’s gone on holiday to try and get over her husband’s death!’
I sighed. ‘Yeah. I know. It’s just weird. First Mike, then Ed’s miracle recovery, then April taking off, and him not coming home…’
I had already said more than I’d intended. Naveeta had this annoying way of making me do that. Sure enough, she was all over it: ‘What miracle recovery? What do you mean?’
I supposed, if the whole trial had been faked, then there was no need for secrecy about it anymore. In which case, I ought to tell the police my suspicions – but I couldn’t do that. Not until I was sure. My undercover debacle could not come out. It just couldn’t. Because if Ed had faked his illness, what else had he managed to fool me about?
‘He’s been in a medical trial,’ I said reluctantly. ‘This new drug has reversed his symptoms.’
Allegedly.
‘You know, I thought he seemed better!’ Naveeta shrieked. ‘Oh my god, Lynn, that fantastic!’
‘Great – for him,’ I said sourly. ‘Not so great for me, if he’s been cured and immediately done a runner.’
‘He wouldn’t! Why would he? And surely you don’t really think it’s all connected to Mike’s murder, and April?’
I pulled myself together.
‘No, you just get mad thoughts. It’s just panic, that something awful’s happened to him. Please, Nav, please don’t say anything to anyone. Promise?’
She crossed her heart with a flourish and nodded vigorously. I didn’t believe for a minute that she meant it.
‘Anyway,’ I said. ‘I’d better get going. The girls are dying to get Timmy settled in, I can see.’
The twins giggled, jostling over the handle of the cat carrier as they manhandled it upstairs, with Timmy yowling in protest. I had to look away, suddenly emotional as he disappeared around the top of the stairs. It felt like I was losing everyone all at once.
‘But surely you’ll stay for a cup of tea or a glass of wine at least?’
Naveeta tried to drag me through to the kitchen but I resisted, taking my car keys out of my bag and turning for the door. ‘No, honestly, thanks, but I’m going to Kingston to stay with Ben and Jeanine.’
I intentionally made it sound as though I’d be staying at Ben’s for some time. I didn’t want Naveeta to know how soon I was leaving for the Channel Islands, because I didn’t want her to pick up on my fear that Ed wasn’t ever coming back.
33
I pressed the buzzer at the entrance to Ben’s building. When he answered, I could hear the frantic tone even in his disembodied and crackly voice. ‘Lynn! Any news?’
He buzzed me in at the same time, so I concluded he didn’t really want me to update him over the intercom. As I climbed the stairs I saw his large outline fill the open doorway of his first-floor flat, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet. He rushed out and gave me a more effusive hug than he had in years.
Poor Ben. He looked so pale. He wasn’t my favourite person, but he didn’t deserve this, especially so hard on the heels of his elation at his dad’s supposed miracle cure – we’d told him, of course. He smelled of aftershave and fabric softener, with a top note of garlic and I briefly clung to him, thinking that he was the closest thing to Ed that I might ever see again.
‘Come in,’ he said. ‘Jeanine’s out at Zu
mba. I’m just cooking risotto so we can all eat together when she gets in.’
‘It smells great.’ I was starving. It was only a fifteen-minute drive from Naveeta’s house to his flat, but I felt exhausted.
‘So, is there?’ Ben asked, pouring me a glass of white wine without asking if I wanted one. ‘Any news, I mean? I guess not, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.’
He froze in the act of handing me the wine, holding the glass tantalisingly just out of my reach: ‘You haven’t come in person to tell me something terrible, have you?’
‘No, please don’t worry. At least, don’t worry any more than you already are. I haven’t heard anything at all.’
‘Well, no news is good news … maybe. Stay and talk to me while I stir, otherwise my rice’ll stick.’
I leaned against the fridge, trying not to be in the way.
He poured stock into the large frying pan, frowning in concentration, looking in profile so like Ed that I had to grit my teeth. He was even wearing an apron similar to the one Ed wore in the kitchen. The rice sizzled and roiled as he stirred it.
‘I’m going to stay with Maddie in Jersey for a while,’ I said cautiously.
‘When?’
‘I’m flying from Gatwick tomorrow – I’ll get the train to the airport. I wondered if I could leave the car here. You and Jeanine are welcome to use it, of course.’
‘Tomorrow?’ He rested the wooden spoon on a chopping board and turned to look at me. ‘But what if Dad comes back and you’re not there?’
I sighed, regretting bringing it up so soon.
‘Ben … Can we talk about it after dinner, when Jeanine’s here too?’
He switched off the gas ring under the pan with an aggressive flick. ‘No. If there’s something you aren’t telling me, I want to know now. Where is he, Lynn?’
‘I don’t know! Of course I don’t know. I’d never put you through what I’m going through. If I knew, I’d tell you.’
