by Carys Jones
Finally, the call was answered. But not by Will. It was the automated response again.
‘Dammit,’ Amanda seethed and ended the call with a blunt press of a button. Her mind was racing as she headed downstairs.
Was Will hurt?
Was his phone just broken?
Was he now at work?
Amanda looked at her phone. She needed to call Mike. To check that Will hadn’t turned up late for his shift and thanks to a suddenly fault phone just couldn’t contact her.
Every surface in the kitchen burned brightly beneath the glorious glow of sunlight which was beaming in through the windows. Amanda reached for the percolator and switched it on before stepping back from its loud gurgles and trembles. She pressed her phone against her ear.
‘Yeah?’ Mike gruffly answered as though he were annoyed at the distraction.
‘Mike, hi, it’s Mrs Thorn,’ Amanda tossed her hair out of her eyes and wandered over to the French doors at the far end of the kitchen, looking out at her little garden.
‘Oh, Mrs Thorn,’ Mike cleared his throat and softened his tone. ‘Everything okay?’
‘I, um,’ Amanda sighed, realizing that she was about to risk sounding like a slightly crazy person. ‘Did Will show up for work in the end?’ she blurted the question, moving hard and fast like she was ripping off a plaster and trying to minimize the damage caused.
Mike paused and Amanda felt her stomach squeeze in on itself.
‘No, he didn’t.’
Amanda closed her eyes and leaned against the French doors for support. The heat of the day burned against the glass.
‘Is everything all right, Mrs Thorn?’ Mike wondered kindly.
Chewing her lip, Amanda wondered what to say.
No, everything isn’t all right. My husband is missing, his phone isn’t working and I’ve no idea where he’s gone.
‘I’m fine,’ Amanda forced herself to smile as she straightened. ‘Will’s phone is just broken so I can’t check where he is.’
‘Okay, as long as you are all right.’
Amanda had never met Mike. From what she’d heard about him through Will he sounded like a decent, fair man who’d take on any new hires at the warehouse so long as they were willing to work hard for him. He wasn’t the kind of guy to suffer fools gladly. Amanda knew that Will’s sudden absence at work was putting his job in jeopardy.
‘When he does surface, tell him to give me a call, will you?’ Mike requested.
‘Yes,’ Amanda was nodding briskly. ‘I will.’
The percolator ceased bubbling and rumbling just as Amanda ended her call with Mike. She poured herself a large cup of fresh coffee and then tried Will again. She got the same response.
‘Shit.’ Tears streaked down her cheeks as she wandered through the front room. She felt like she couldn’t settle anywhere, like the air around her was constantly electrified as if a storm were about to break.
Her front room was a testament to the blandness of beige. At least that’s what her mother had said when Amanda had brought her round to the house for the first time. The walls were white, the carpet magnolia and the leather suite a soft taupe. It was all very chic, all very modern just like the rest of the house.
‘Where’s the personality?’ Corrine had demanded as she moved deeper into the room. In her bright purple tea dress she was like a giant inky stain of colour in the middle of the space.
‘It’s a house, Mum, it doesn’t need personality,’ Amanda had objected.
‘Of course it does,’ Corrine insisted. ‘Your house is your home, the beating heart of your family unit. It should reflect how special you are.’
Amanda lowered herself on to her sofa. She didn’t have to regret the leather in the heat since she’d pulled on loose-fitting jogging bottoms that morning and a white vest top. She placed her coffee down on a mirrored coaster on a side table and let her eyes flicker around the familiar space.
There was a large plasma television on the wall. A white fire surround housing a flame-effect glass fireplace. And above it were a couple of pictures from Amanda and Will’s wedding day. In the images, Amanda had both palms pressed against Will’s broad chest and was gazing adoringly into his eyes. Her hair looked as light as her ivory chest as it gathered at the nape of her neck in a large bun.
‘Think,’ Amanda urged herself as she wiped at her cheeks. She kept gazing around the room as though hoping an answer would suddenly spring out from one of the far corners and present itself. She knew that Will wasn’t at work. That he’d gone out in his van first thing whilst she still slept.
‘Oh, Christ,’ Amanda bunched her hands into fists as she steeled herself against fearing the worst. She’d tried Will’s phone; she’d called Mike at the warehouse. Her next logical step was to call the local hospitals and make sure someone matching Will’s description hadn’t been brought in.
Amanda’s hands were shaking as she looked up the relevant numbers.
Twenty minutes later and Amanda had successfully called the two major hospitals in the area. Neither had reports of a car accident involving a blue van or a man matching Will’s description being admitted that morning. Amanda took some comfort from that but not much. It still begged the awful question of where exactly was her husband.
Amanda drained the last of her coffee before making her next call. Her heart crept up into her throat with each passing ring.
‘Tremwell Bay Police Department, how may I direct your call?’ a kind-sounding woman asked.
‘I,’ Amanda stood up, massaging the back of her neck. ‘I need to report that my husband is missing.’ Her tongue felt too big for her mouth as she said the words. It felt so surreal, so ridiculous. How was this even happening?
‘When was he last seen?’
‘Um,’ Amanda thought back to that morning. She’d slept beside Will all night but she couldn’t be sure what time he had stolen away from their marital bed. ‘Early this morning.’
‘This morning?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m afraid that someone needs to have been missing for a considerable amount of time before the authorities can get involved.’
Amanda coughed but it sounded more like an alarmed squeak.
Considerable amount of time? What did that even mean? How long was she supposed to go on being normal? To eat dinner? To sleep? Hanging on every passing minute in the vain hope that her husband would return.
‘I just don’t know where he is,’ Amanda admitted helplessly. She could hear her own voice starting to break.
‘I’m so sorry,’ the call handler empathized. ‘I know how difficult this must be, but unfortunately there is nothing we can do when someone has only been missing for just a few hours. Most people turn up within forty-eight hours. I’m sure your husband will be home soon. If he’s vulnerable or at risk because of any mental issues -’
‘No,’ Amanda softly cut the woman off. ‘My husband is always…’ an oak tree. ‘Fine.’
‘Very well then. Just hang in there, your husband will come home.’
Amanda maintained a level of politeness and thanked the woman for her time and ended the call. Even if Will did return, it wouldn’t explain where he’d gone. This was so unlike him. You could usually set your clock to Will’s rigid routine. He was the very definition of reliable. He didn’t go out drinking with friends; he enjoyed doing chores around the house. From the moment Amanda had met him she’d known he was the constant she’d been searching for.
‘You’ve got lullaby eyes,’ Will had told her flirtatiously over drinks back when they first started dating.
‘Lullaby eyes?’ Amanda had playfully batted her eyelashes at him. She loved how deep and rich his voice was, like every word he uttered had come all the way up from his toes.
‘Yeah,’ Will grinned boyishly, looking much younger than his age. ‘Lullaby eyes. Because each time I look into them I just want to go to bed.’
Amanda had almost spat out her JD and Coke.
‘
For someone so beautiful you really don’t know how to take a compliment,’ Will had laughed.
The sound of the house phone ringing rattled through Amanda’s head, shattering the memory into a thousand pieces. She tensed upon the sofa and grabbed the nearest handset from the seat’s plush armrest.
‘Will?’ she gasped, knowing she’d give anything to hear her husband’s velvety voice on the other end of the line.
‘Amanda?’
Instead it was the shrill pitch of her mother.
‘Amanda, are you there?’
‘Yes, Mum,’ Amanda pressed a hand to her chest, she could feel her heart fluttering anxiously just inches beneath her fingertips. ‘I’m here.’
‘Well you should be here,’ Corrine Roberts announced tightly. ‘You said you’d come round for lunch, remember?’
Amanda groaned at the dim light of recognition which illuminated the space around her. She had indeed been due to go to her mother’s for lunch. It was one of their many weekly rituals together. But Amanda was also supposed to have spent her morning working on the Diowater website. And her husband was supposed to be at work, not lost. Nothing about her day was going to plan.
‘Mum, I forgot, I’m sorry. Something came up.’
‘What came up?’
Work, say work.
But Amanda’s worry had made her weak. She yearned to share the burden of her concern with someone else.
‘Will’s gone missing,’ she blurted.
‘I’ll be there in five,’ Corrine stated before hanging up. Amanda stared at the phone in surprise as the dial tone droned on at her, wondering if having her mother come round was really the best idea.
*
It was actually more like twenty minutes when Corrine’s mint green Fiat 500 pulled into the driveway. Amanda had been loitering at the far end of the front room, intermittently peering through the wooden blinds to glance up the street when she wasn’t staring at the screen of her mobile which had become glued to her hand.
Amanda pulled open the door before her mother had a chance to ring the bell.
‘Oh, my sweet girl,’ Corrine instantly reached for her daughter and enveloped her in a tight embrace. She smelt strongly of vanilla and peppermint tea. ‘My poor, poor baby,’ she muttered as Amanda managed to kick her front door shut. Corrine eventually stepped back, her hands still resting on Amanda’s shoulders. She swept the blue eyes she’d given her daughter over Amanda’s long frame and pursed her thin lips together. They’d been painted the same red as her dress thanks to a particularly vibrant shade of lipstick.
‘So he’s finally left you?’ Corrine asked, tilting her head to the right.
‘No,’ Amanda shook her mother off and stormed towards the kitchen. ‘He’s not left me, Mum. He’s missing.’
‘They sound like the same thing to me,’ Corrine tutted.
‘Well, they’re not.’ Amanda reached for the percolator.
‘Ooh, no coffee for me,’ Corrine protested, ‘it wreaks havoc with my sensitive bowels.’
‘I know,’ Amanda sighed as she also turned on the kettle. ‘The coffee is for me.’
‘I imagine you’ve had enough,’ Corrine raised a slender, dark eyebrow at her. ‘The last thing you need right now is to be all wired and twitchy.’
‘I’m not—’ Amanda abruptly silenced her own protest. Her mother wasn’t the sort of person you could reason with. She was far too stubborn to listen to opinions other than her own.
With their fresh drinks in hand the two women drifted into the front room. Corrine neatly draped herself down at the far end of the leather sofa. Her long red dress gathered at her ankles and the array of bracelets she wore up her arms clattered together in a waterfall of sound each time she reached for her cup of tea. As usual Corrine was a blast of colour in the otherwise demure room.
‘So, tell me what happened,’ Corrine urged. Her bejewelled fingers rested around her ivory mug, each sumptuous gem capturing a sliver of light that was still pouring into the room.
‘I got up and… he wasn’t there. Wasn’t in bed, or the shower. But his van was gone. And he’s not turned up for work. I presumed he was on earlies but then Mike from the warehouse rang to say he hadn’t shown so I’ve no idea where he is.’
‘Have you called him?’
Amanda swallowed, her mouth suddenly consumed with a bitter taste. ‘His phone’s been disconnected,’ she admitted woefully.
‘I see,’ Corrine’s perfectly plucked eyebrows shot up to her wrinkled brow. While she and Amanda both had eyes the colour of a summer sky, that was where their similarities ended. Corrine Roberts was a stout woman with ample curves and a head of thick curly brown hair. She had dimples when she smiled and a laugh so loud it could surely wake the dead.
Amanda had inherited her father’s slim figure and pensive nature. Like her he enjoyed solitude, preferring long walks along the coastline to nights out with friends. He’d had icy blonde hair and dark, brooding eyes. He always looked like he was pondering on some great question; like the true origins of the universe.
‘Might he have gone home?’ Corrine queried. Amanda could feel a flush rising in her cheeks.
‘This is his home, mother,’ she said through gritted teeth. Her blood had begun to boil in her veins. She knew she should be searching for Will, not wasting time defending him to her mother.
‘He’s Scottish darling,’ Corrine noted with saccharine sweetness. ‘This will never truly be his home.’
‘Well, it is,’ Amanda raged.
‘I never did trust him,’ Corrine shook her head to herself as she blew into her tea. Her blue eyes had rested upon one of the few wedding pictures in the room. Her gaze narrowed as she scrutinized it with fresh interest. ‘I mean, on your wedding day, to have no one from his side there.’
‘He had people.’
‘From work,’ Corrine scoffed. ‘But what about his friends? His family?’
‘I told you,’ Amanda sighed, leaning forward and raking her hands through her hair, ‘it was too short notice for them to come over, and he mentioned something about his mother being sick.’ The latter was a lie Amanda felt obliged to tell. Will had always been so fiercely private about his family and she respected that but she knew that her mother wouldn’t.
‘What sort of mother would let a bout of sickness get in the way of attending her son’s wedding? And it’s not like they’d have had to have crossed oceans to be there.’
‘Mum,’ Amanda groaned. She was in no mood to deal with her mother’s judgemental attitude. In her eyes Will had never been good enough, and her dad was no longer around to give his seal of approval.
‘Your dad would never have trusted him,’ Corrine declared with authority as though she’d somehow been able to read her daughter’s mind.
‘You don’t know that,’ Amanda challenged hotly.
‘I do,’ a sadness had crept into Corrine’s eyes as she looked away from the picture back towards her daughter.
Amanda lowered her head. Whenever they talked about her father she felt her heart breaking all over again and she only had the strength to deal with the potential loss of one man that day.
‘Where do you think he could be?’ Amanda wondered quietly.
‘Will?’
‘Yes, Will,’ Amanda gasped in exasperation. ‘My husband. The guy who is missing, remember?’
‘For his sake I hope he’s lying in a hospital bed somewhere with ten broken fingers that have prevented him from calling,’ Corrine said bitterly. ‘He’s got some nerve getting you all worked up like this.’
‘I called the hospitals,’ Amanda recalled numbly. The events of the past morning felt as though they’d happened to someone else, not her, in a movie she’d been watching. This couldn’t be her life. The Will she knew would never just take off without so much as a goodbye. He loved Amanda. He was her port in a storm, her anchor.
‘They knew nothing?’ Corrine pressed.
‘No.’
‘Well, he’
s got to be somewhere. Grown men don’t just up and disappear. Though your father and his alien conspiracy theories would have you believe otherwise.’
‘He’d be setting up his telescope in the conservatory and monitoring the skies for me,’ Amanda laughed. It felt good to laugh. To pretend if only for a second that everything was still normal.
‘He loved watching the stars,’ Corrine smiled wistfully. ‘He’d spend hours gazing up at them, dreaming of distant worlds.’
‘But he loved this world too.’
Amanda remembered walking alongside her father on heady summer afternoons. He’d suddenly stoop his willowy frame down and gesture for his little girl to do the same. Together they’d kneel amongst the dry grass as Ivor carefully cupped a rare flower in his long fingers. He had the hands of a pianist though he’d never even held an instrument before.
‘Look at the beauty,’ he’d urge Amanda. ‘It’s all around us, just waiting to be found.’
‘He loved you,’ Corrine’s eyes glittered as she looked at her daughter. ‘Above all else, he loved you, you were his darling little girl.’
Amanda nodded tearfully. It was hard to imagine what her dad would have done if he was there with them then. He’d only ever known Amanda the girl, not Amanda the woman. Would he be as angry over Will’s absence as Corrine was? Or would he just be concerned, sitting quietly in the corner and fretting over what might have become of his son-in-law?
‘If he doesn’t come back he’s a fool.’ Corrine reached across the centre of the sofa which stretched between them and clasped Amanda’s hands in her own. Her jewellery clattered loudly as she moved like she were a one-woman percussion show.
‘He’ll come back,’ Amanda said with force. If she sounded convinced then perhaps she’d feel it too. Because if Will hadn’t returned by the following morning she’d be heading to the Tremwell Bay Police station to officially report him as a missing person. And the thought of his absence becoming so real terrified her.
5
Tremwell Bay Police Station was a faded white two-storey building. The mottled walls were supposed to reflect the quaint personality of the seaside town. A tightly packed, sloped car park led up towards the glass-fronted double doors.
