The Missing Husband. Amanda Brooke

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СКАЧАТЬ What didn’t surprise her was the fact that Steph had been eavesdropping, but with her whole life about to be brought under scrutiny, her lack of privacy was something she was going to have to get used to.

       8

      The pencil moved across the page in long, sweeping curves, softly sighing as the figure began to take shape. Next came a series of scratches that brought the drawing into sharp focus and Jo refused to let anything else invade her thoughts. It was Saturday and David had been missing for three days and no one, not even the police had found any trace of him yet. It was as if he had been erased off the face of the earth and while Jo was tempted to summon him back into life with the sweep of a pencil, she was determined to remain grounded. She was forcing herself to carry on as if her life hadn’t been shattered.

      ‘How does it look so far?’ she asked with as much enthusiasm as she could summon.

      ‘Shouldn’t a wicked stepmother have a fancy wig or a big hat?’ asked her niece.

      Jo and Lauren were sprawled out on Lauren’s bed with paper cuttings scattered around them for inspiration. Before replying, Jo settled her gaze on her niece’s flowing locks. ‘We could always get your mum to style your hair into a beehive – she’s good at that sort of thing.’

      ‘Do you think she would let me dye it? I was thinking maybe blonde.’

      ‘Who ever heard of an evil, blonde queen?’ Jo said, then picked up a cutting from a magazine and wafted it in front of Lauren. ‘Red hair is most definitely on-trend.’

      ‘Yeah, and there I was thinking you’d cut out pictures of models with red hair deliberately,’ Lauren said. ‘I don’t care how on-trend it is, I’m fed up being a ginger minger.’

      Jo reached behind her head to grab her ponytail. It was long enough to swipe across Lauren’s face. ‘And is that what I am?’

      ‘You dye your hair.’

      ‘Only because I had the misfortune to be born with boring brown hair like your mum,’ Jo explained. Lauren’s ginger gene was rooted in her dad’s side of the family.

      Lauren’s lips tightened to a thin line and she chose not to deign her aunt with a response. The fifteen-year-old liked to act as if she had a fifty-year-old head on her shoulders but that was often the point, it was only an act. Lauren’s maturity was like a new outfit she was struggling to grow into.

      Jo stood her ground. ‘I’m in no mood to argue, Lauren,’ she warned. ‘We’ll add a headpiece but that’s as far as I’m willing to go.’

      Rather than a counterattack, Lauren dropped her head and a flush rose in her cheeks. ‘Are you sure you’re up to making it now?’

      Jo tapped a pencil against her chin as she took another look at the design she and Lauren had been working on. She had a flair for creativity that was distinctly underused in her choice of career. She might create policies and procedures, rules and regulations but even deciding which font to use in her reports was beyond her control; Nelson’s Engineering had set rules on branding. That was why she always jumped at the chance to put the creative skills she had acquired from her mum to good use whenever she could. ‘You’ve given me harder projects in the past,’ she said, deliberately misunderstanding her niece. ‘The owl and the pussycat costume was a particular challenge.’

      Lauren had been seven when Jo had dressed her up as a black cat and built a cardboard boat complete with owl to hang around her middle. She had won first prize at the school fete, but the memory wasn’t enough to raise even a smile. ‘That wasn’t what I meant. Mum said we could hire something from a fancy dress shop.’

      Jo failed miserably at her own attempt to smile, managing only to make her chin tremble. She swallowed hard and willed her emotions not to give her away. ‘What else do I have to do Lauren, except wait for news?’

      ‘You have the baby to look after.’

      ‘Oh, little FB doesn’t need any help from me right now.’

      ‘FB?’

      ‘It’s the name we gave my bump,’ she said, but was already regretting her slip. The family hadn’t known about the pet name, and she wanted to keep some things sacred, even from them. ‘Don’t tell anyone.’ When Lauren agreed, Jo moved on quickly. ‘The thing is, if I don’t have something to occupy myself then I’ll go crazy. You’re my therapy, Lauren,’ she told her niece with a hint of desperation. ‘So, how about deciding on the colour. The outfit that is, not your hair.’

      Jo would have liked to have spent the entire day absorbed in the design of Lauren’s costume but this temporary distraction couldn’t keep her cocooned for ever. Her niece began spending more time on her phone messaging her friends than helping, and Jo found herself doodling rather than concentrating on the costume. When she realized she had filled an entire page with spirals that followed her train of thought in ever-decreasing circles, she knew it was time to go.

      Her back ached almost as much as her heart when she went downstairs to find her sister.

      ‘I’ve made lasagne for tea,’ Steph said. ‘And there’s tiramisu for afters to keep with the Italian theme. It’s a Nigella recipe that I’ve been meaning to try for ages.’

      ‘Oh,’ Jo said. She looked at her watch and was surprised to see it was already gone five. She didn’t feel hungry, despite not eating properly for days. And even if she wasn’t sick with worry, she was too full of self-loathing to enjoy a meal while her husband was missing. ‘Sorry, Steph, I wasn’t planning on staying for dinner.’

      Steph stopped what she was doing and released a puff of air, directing it upwards so it lifted her fringe and cooled her brow. She looked as if she had just finished an intense workout but the jog pants and trainers had never seen the inside of a gym despite her New Year’s resolution ten months ago to lose two stone. Steph put her hand on her hip, smudging chocolate custard on her T-shirt in the process. ‘I had a feeling you’d say that. You have to eat, Jo.’

      Try as she might, Jo couldn’t accept Steph’s concern with the good grace it deserved. Her nerves were in tatters and it was too exhausting being polite all the time and with her sister, she knew she didn’t have to be, so she didn’t hold back. ‘For God’s sake, what is the sudden obsession with people wanting me to eat? Irene turned up yesterday with a chicken casserole as if filling the house with David’s favourite foods will make him magically reappear.’ She stopped and took a ragged breath, punctuating her next words with vicious jabs to the kitchen counter with an extended finger. ‘Well, it won’t. It won’t. I tried that on Wednesday night, remember?’ Realizing she was on the verge of losing control, Jo pursed her trembling lips.

      ‘I’m thinking of you, not David,’ Steph said patiently. ‘You’re the one who loves Italian. David’s more a meat and two veg kind of person, isn’t he?’ She waited for Jo to nod and then said, ‘Please stay.’

      Jo shook her head. ‘I should be home in case …’ she started but couldn’t finish. Such hope was beginning to feel futile so she tried to find another justification. ‘I wouldn’t want Irene thinking I was out on the town enjoying myself.’

      ‘She wouldn’t think that, she knows you’re as worried about him as she is.’

      ‘She СКАЧАТЬ