by Carys Jones
When she came back out to the bench, she found her mother sat upon it, gazing out towards the ocean which glistened beyond the clifftop beneath the silvery light of the moon.
‘Mum?’ Amanda tightened her cardigan around her. ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’
‘I wanted to make sure you were okay,’ Corrine had thrown on a long turquoise dressing gown. Her slipper-clad feet poked out from the base of it. Like most of her clothes, her slippers were elaborate. They were adorned with feathers and sequins and glistened beneath the outdoor lights as exquisitely as any star.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Amanda explained as she picked up her laptop and sat down. ‘I keep thinking about Scotland.’
She typed a few searches into her laptop and sat back as the data collected on her screen.
‘Your internet here is terrible,’ she grumbled as the device loudly laboured.
‘You used to spend hours out here,’ Corrine recalled with a chuckle, ‘you’d bunch up beneath your duvet in the winter months and drag your computer out on to this bench so that you could chat with Shane.’
Amanda laughed. She dreaded to think how many hours she’d clocked up chatting away to Shane on MSN messenger. They’d type little messages to each other all through the night as though they hadn’t just spent the entire day together.
‘Will rarely talks about his family,’ Amanda said as her fingers gracefully danced across the keyboard of her laptop.
‘I remember you saying he lost a brother.’
‘He said he was killed.’
‘Ah. You felt like that connected you both. Because he understood loss.’
‘But he never actually said his name, or age’ Amanda continued, talking almost as quickly as she typed. ‘And I never pressed him on it because I just assumed it was too painful to talk about.’
She was typing hard and fast, running numerous searches and pushing her mother’s limited internet access to its capacity.
‘You think that’s where he’s gone, back to his family?’
‘Where else could he have gone?’ Amanda shrugged. More typing, more searches.
‘If he’s gone there, why wouldn’t he just tell you?’ Corrine wondered logically.
‘I don’t know. Maybe it was too upsetting for him. Maybe someone else has died.’
She searched for Will’s name. For his family. For his hometown up in Scotland. She searched for deaths of any relations with the surname Thorn. All of the searches yielded no results. There was nothing about Will. It seemed it wasn’t just on his social media that he was a ghost. Amanda needed to dig deeper, but she couldn’t do that at her Mum’s. She needed the speed of her fibre-optic broadband.
‘I need to go home,’ Amanda declared decisively as she stood up, closing her laptop.
‘What, now?’
‘It’s not like I’m able to sleep,’ she was marching purposefully back into the house.
‘Amanda,’ Corrine was calling to her from where she was pulling the French doors closed.
Amanda spun around, keen to act on impulse and carry on with her search back home.
‘Just be careful how deep you dig.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you might discover something you wish you hadn’t found.’
‘The only thing I care about finding is my husband,’ Amanda replied forcefully.
*
After unlocking her front door, Amanda stood in the hallway absorbing the silence. She held a breath, expecting to hear doors opening upstairs and Will’s heavy footsteps echoing across the landing as he peered over the banister and demanded to know why she was wandering about so late. But the house was silent.
Amanda checked every room. Each time she pushed open a door and flicked on a light, she imagined finding Will asleep. But each room was empty. No one had returned there since she’d left for her mother’s. Her shoulders dropped in disappointment and she felt foolish for having dared to hope that Will might have miraculously returned.
The percolator gurgled loudly as Amanda brewed herself a fresh coffee. She could already feel her senses starting to dull as exhaustion crept up on her. And she refused to sleep, not yet. She couldn’t rest until her curiosity was satiated. With coffee in hand, Amanda took her laptop up to its usual resting place in her study. She switched it back on and felt her body lighten with relief as it accessed relevant searches with lightning speed.
Fuelled by caffeine, Amanda abandoned the regular search methods she’d been using and opened up a new browsing window, one where her search history wouldn’t be recorded. She resurrected her Lambchop identity on numerous dubious websites and began a more thorough, less legal search.
She searched for Will Thorn. For his date of birth. For any family members. As Lambchop Amanda could access police records, hospital databases. If there was a single shred of truth in anything Will had told her about his family, then her hacker abilities would find it.
But there was nothing. She couldn’t even find Will’s birth certificate.
‘What the hell?’ Amanda propped her head up in her hands. It didn’t make sense. How could Will just not exist online? Had someone already tampered with his records, hidden them from even her expertly intrusive eye?
Outside, the darkness had brightened to grey. Soon the sun would be rising. Amanda stretched, pulling out the knots which had settled in her joints. As she stretched, her mouth widened into an epic yawn. She was shattered. Her latest search on her laptop blurred before her tired eyes.
‘Okay, okay,’ Amanda logged out of her Lambchop accounts and closed her laptop. Wearily she stalked her way across the landing towards her bedroom. She pulled the curtains closed, keen to block out the new day. She could already feel the warmth in the air, signalling that it was going to be yet another beautiful summer’s day. How could the weather taunt her so much? Amanda didn’t want sunshine. She wanted heavy pewter clouds and rain that bounced off the pavement. She wanted thunder and flashes of bright lightning. She wanted the world to shake.
‘Where are you?’ Amanda muttered to herself as she climbed into bed. She wriggled over to Will’s side, pressing her head into his pillows and breathing in his scent. She closed her eyes, wishing she was running her fingers through his thick hair instead of pressing a pillow against her face.
Had Will really headed back to Scotland? How did he even intend to get there without his van? Was he going to board a train? Had he already left? If so he’d be even harder to find. But she would find him.
Amanda made the promise to herself as her eyes closed and her breathing slowed. She turned and hugged Will’s pillow to her chest. She would find her husband no matter what. Even if she had to act outside of the law. Shane wouldn’t stop her; he’d turn a blind eye like he always used to do.
As Amanda drifted off to sleep she thought of the smiling bride she had been in her wedding pictures. Will had been her knight in shining armour waiting for her at the end of that aisle. Amanda had felt so certain that he’d do anything for her, that he’d always keep her safe. The worst part of losing Will was losing that certainty. Because even if she found him and he came home, could she ever claim back that feeling?
10
The doorbell.
Its shrill sound shattered the silence within the house. Amanda’s eyes flew open, her heart instantly racing.
The doorbell rang again, just as loud and insistent. Throwing herself out of bed, Amanda managed to tug on a long cardigan over her short pyjama set before she hurried out of her bedroom. She powered down the stairs and into the hallway.
Golden sunlight illuminated the lower floor of the house. Dusk was approaching. How long had she been asleep?
She blinked hopefully at the shadow of a man on the step. Had Will finally returned to her?
Pulling open the front door, Amanda swept her hair out of her face along with any further questions.
‘Hey,’ Shane smiled awkwardly. He was in his grey suit, his pale blue tie already loosened. In his hands he he
ld two brown paper bags and Amanda could smell the takeaway they contained.
‘I guess you were expecting someone else,’ Shane’s smile fell as he tugged at his tie.
Amanda rubbed at her eyes, realizing that her face must have given away her disappointment.
‘No,’ she wrapped her cardigan tightly around herself, ‘I mean, yes. I hoped you were Will.’
Shane pulled his lips into a thin line and nodded.
‘Aren’t you working?’ Amanda stared at the bags he was holding.
‘I was,’ Shane raised the bags slightly. ‘But then I finished, was starving and figured I needed to drop in on you so, you know,’ he shrugged shyly, ‘I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.’
Amanda stepped aside so that he could come in.
‘Your Mum said you were here.’ Shane explained as he slipped past her. The smell of Chinese food flooded Amanda’s senses and her stomach grumbled appreciatively. She realized that she hadn’t eaten all day.
‘Sounds like you’re hungry,’ Shane laughed lightly.
‘I keep forgetting to eat,’ Amanda sighed as she led Shane towards the kitchen and plucked two plates from the cupboards before turning on the percolator.
‘How are you holding up?’ Shane settled himself on one of the stools.
The percolator boiled loudly as the dense aroma of fresh coffee mixed with the sweetness of the takeaway.
‘I just keep going over everything in my mind. The money, the phone, the van.’ Amanda emptied the contents of the two paper bags on to their plates. She paused briefly as she watched the fluffy rice tumble out of its plastic container. Shane had ordered her favourite: sweet and sour chicken with egg-fried rice. Had he remembered it was her favourite or was it merely a coincidence?
‘That’s partly why I’m here.’
‘Partly?’ Amanda’s eyebrows shot up.
‘Yeah,’ Shane smiled and his green eyes glimmered mischievously, just as they always used to do when they were younger and he was withholding some secret from her. At first Amanda would usually resort to tickling the information out of him, but as she got older she found more effective methods of persuasion. Not that she could use any of those now. Her cheeks burned with shame as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘The team got a hold of the van, did a thorough forensics search on it.’
‘And?’ Amanda had to remind herself how to breathe. What if there had been blood in the van? Will’s blood? What if he was hurt somewhere and she was busy having dinner with her ex?
‘And there was nothing.’ Shane swiftly put her out of her misery.
‘Oh,’ pressing a hand to her chest, Amanda sighed with relief.
‘It also means we’ve got nothing to go on,’ Shane added carefully.
Amanda eyed the relaxed way he sat at her kitchen counter, the sparkle in his eyes. For so long she and Shane had been strangers and now he was waltzing back into her life as if there had never been those years of separation.
‘You don’t think he’s coming back, do you?’ Amanda’s voice was hard as she asked the question.
Shane flinched. She couldn’t tell if it was in surprise or because he was hurt by the accusation.
‘Do you?’ he deflected the question back to her.
‘You’re the cop, you tell me!’ Amanda flared.
‘You’re the wife, you tell me!’
Amanda groaned in annoyance and skewered a chunky piece of chicken with her fork.
‘No one knows anything right now,’ Shane said quietly.
‘I think you just came round here to piss me off,’ Amanda narrowed her eyes at him but her tone was playful. ‘You used to love pissing me off.’
‘It’s because you’re so easy to wind up. Remember when I made you think our old flat was haunted?’
‘You kept moving things and then denying it,’ Amanda laughed. ‘Like you kept leaving the scissors on the side or closing the curtains at random times.’
‘You were convinced the place was haunted. I had to own up before you hauled a priest round to purify it,’ Shane was laughing into his dinner.
‘You scared me,’ Amanda defended herself. ‘And you were so believable with your lies. I genuinely didn’t think you’d moved any of it. You were that good.’
‘Why, thank you.’
Shane was grinning like the roguish boy he’d once been. Amanda could still see him beneath the suit, fighting to get out. She remembered the fun they’d had in their flat. But her memories swiftly darkened when she recalled all the nights he didn’t come home, when she’d cry herself to sleep worrying about him.
‘Won’t Jayne the Pain wonder where you are?’ Amanda asked, bringing a blast of ice into the room.
‘She hated being called that in school,’ Shane pointed his fork in Amanda’s direction.
‘Then she shouldn’t have been such a bloody pain.’ Jayne had been the kind of girl who only cared what guys thought of her. She saw all girls as competition and something to be eliminated. And she hated Amanda because of her friendship with John and Shane. Jayne was forever saying wicked, barbed things about her. The kind of things which haunt you past your childhood and into your adult life.
Jayne had been the one to start the rumour about Amanda’s Dad. About how he’d died in a drink-driving accident. But that had never been the case. There had been ice on the road. He’d lost control of his car. The truth did nothing to dilute Jayne’s lies. She used her forked tongue to spread vicious rumours about Amanda’s father. Somehow Shane had seemed able to forget all of that, look past it. Maybe Jayne had even apologised to him about it but she’d never extended such a courtesy to Amanda.
‘How can you even stand to be with her?’ Amanda raged, the pain of the memories, of all the scornful words becoming too much. She felt hot and agitated as though her blood were boiling up within her veins. ‘She’s horrid, Shane, utterly horrid. And you know what she put me through.’
Now there was no mistaking Shane’s expression. He looked ashamed, like the little boy who had once stolen from his mother’s purse. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again.
‘I’m sorry,’ Amanda raised a shaking hand to her damp eyes. ‘It’s none of my business who you date. It’s not my place to care. I’m just so upset over Will and—’
Shane reached towards her and grabbed her free hand. His skin was so warm, so soft. His touch wasn’t as hardened as Will’s was.
‘I want you to care who I date,’ he was staring into her eyes, really staring. It was as if she were suddenly the only light source in the world and if he looked away from her he’d forever be plunged into eternal darkness.
She was suddenly acutely aware of every fibre in her body, of the head radiating away from Shane’s touch, burning up her arm. It had been so long since he’d held the power to set her on fire that she didn’t think he still could. She snatched her hand away from him before the burn could become unbearable.
‘I want to find my husband,’ Amanda’s voice was barely a whisper.
‘And we will find him,’ Shane quickly hid behind a mask of professionalism. ‘I’m doing everything in my power to aid the investigation.’
Amanda nodded gratefully.
‘But just for now, for tonight, can’t I have come round as a friend rather than an investigating officer?’
Amanda’s lips twitched up into a smile. The house felt so empty without Will in it. It would be nice to have some company for an evening.
‘Sure,’ she pushed herself off her stool and headed for the refrigerator. Pulling it open, she reached inside and withdrew two cooled bottles of beer.
‘Well, I am off duty now,’ Shane cocked an eyebrow at her.
‘I’m sure Jayne can slither over here to pick you up later,’ Amanda passed him the bottle.
‘Yeah,’ Shane laughed. ‘I’m sure she can.’
*
With the French doors open, Amanda sat beside Shane at the wrought-iron patio table she’d picked up in a s
ale the previous summer. The sun had almost set, casting long shadows across the lawn.
‘Your grass is in impressively good condition,’ Shane nudged a nearby patch of almost perfect green blades with his foot.
‘Will regularly flouts the hosepipe ban,’ Amanda said, her voice mockingly low and suggestive. ‘Please, Officer Perton, don’t lock me up for it.’
Shane was laughing as he raised his beer to his lips.
‘So your husband is house-proud?’
‘Very.’
‘You keep the place nice.’
‘I do my best.’ Amanda felt a little buzzed as she drank down her second bottle of beer. She felt warm and relaxed beneath the waning sun and strangely at ease in Shane’s company. It was like they were back on the beach, beside a makeshift fire beneath a star-filled sky. They had so easily slipped back into their old dynamic filled with good-natured banter. Why had Amanda avoided him for so long, held him at such a distance?
‘Do you often think about our old place?’ Shane threw her a sideways look and Amanda felt her heart constrict in her chest. This was why she kept Shane at bay. Because of all of their history. Because deep down there was a part of her that would always love him, that would always wonder what could have been if only they’d stayed together.
And love was like a delicate flower. It needed lots of sunshine and nourishment to grow. Amanda couldn’t have let her relationship with Will be damaged by the shadow of what she’d had with Shane.
‘You mean the rat-attack flat?’ Amanda was laughing, the beer in her system making her giddy and light-headed.
‘How could you give it such a nickname?’ Shane protested playfully. ‘We had rats there twice. That’s it.’
‘Remember when you found that one in the shower? You screamed like a little girl.’
‘I did not.’
‘You did too,’ Amanda giggled. ‘You screamed the bloody place down, then you made me go in and corner it before the council showed up. You were always such a bloody wimp.’
