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Authors: Amanda Brooke

The Missing Husband (33 page)

BOOK: The Missing Husband
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‘Now then, what’s all that noise?’ Irene said, picking Archie up with practised ease, seemingly oblivious to the screams which filled Jo with terror. ‘There, there, Archie, you remember me, don’t you?’

Other than one brief visit when Jo had stayed in bed feigning illness, Irene hadn’t seen her grandson since he had been ill, but whether he remembered her or not, he recognized the tender embrace of love. When he had calmed down a little, Irene turned to Jo and said, ‘He’s growing so fast, isn’t he?’

‘It’s hard to think he should only be three weeks old now,’ Jo said, surprising herself by how normal she sounded when her mind was still spinning.

‘Uh-oh, I think he needs changing.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Jo said, but the moment Archie was transferred into his mother’s arms, his howling resumed. Jo could feel Irene’s eyes boring into her, judging her. She tried to convince herself it was an irrational fear, as illogical as her body’s response to it. Her pulse raced and showed no signs of slowing even though Archie’s cries had become marginally less deafening.

Irene watched the look of horror she had seen earlier return to Jo’s features. ‘Here, let me,’ she said softly. ‘Why don’t you go and make us a nice cuppa?’

Jo’s body had tensed to the point that she couldn’t release her grip when Irene tried to take him. Thinking she was refusing to hand the baby over, Irene stopped what she was doing. She frowned when she saw the tears slipping down Jo’s face. ‘Jo? What is it, love?’

Jo shook her head. ‘Like you said, I’m just a bit run down. You’re right, why don’t you change him while I make the tea?’ she said quickly, tipping Archie into Irene’s arms and rushing from the room.

The kettle was boiling noisily so Jo didn’t hear Irene walk in behind her a few minutes later. Jo had her hands on her chest and was slowly bringing her breathing and her pulse back under control.

‘What’s wrong, Jo? And no fobbing me off this time.’

When Jo turned to face her mother-in-law, two pairs of eyes were on her. Archie’s were still wet with tears but he looked otherwise content in his grandmother’s arms. ‘I’ve started having panic attacks. I haven’t had one for a while and I thought I was getting better, but …’ Should she mention what had just happened with Sally or her fears about David stalking her? Wouldn’t it be better to talk it through with someone? Jo hesitated. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t dare risk evoking that memory of David again, playing with Luke. ‘I’ll be all right. I just need to calm myself down.’

‘Have you been to the doctor?’

Jo nodded.

Irene looked momentarily unsettled. She scanned the kitchen counter as if she would find what she was looking for. ‘Did he give you anything?’

‘I’d only turn to medication as a last resort,’ Jo assured her, thinking of her father-in-law, as she knew Irene would be.

‘You know Alan was on them?’ When Jo nodded again Irene sighed before continuing. ‘I’ll never really know if the drugs affected Alan’s personality along with the stroke but they certainly didn’t help. That being said, I wouldn’t judge anyone else based on that one experience.’ When Jo didn’t look convinced, Irene actually winked then said, ‘My friend Joan has taken antidepressants for years and she swears by them.’

Jo couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘I thought you’d disapprove.’

‘Don’t think I haven’t been there myself, Jo. My doctor would have handed me a prescription without blinking and I really don’t know how I managed without them, but I did and I still am. Talking to Joan helped. I suppose it was something as simple as knowing you’re not the only one out there.’

‘I’m on a waiting list for cognitive behavioural therapy to see if that helps.’

With her free hand, Irene rubbed Jo’s back briefly. ‘Good. I think you’re doing the right thing, but if you need anything from me, you only have to ask. You do know that, don’t you?’

Jo felt herself relaxing at last. She hadn’t wanted to deceive Irene, not when she was about to become so involved in their daily lives once Jo returned to work, and even though Jo wasn’t telling her mother-in-law everything, it was a start. ‘Thanks, Irene and I’m sorry I didn’t confide in you earlier.’

‘Letting people think you’re superwoman will only create a rod for your back and I, for one, am glad you’re not. None of us is perfect and we all have our crosses to bear.’

There was a weary smile on Irene’s face which made Jo think of Steve, which in turn made her think of Sally, the video, the laughter, David’s face … A trail of tears was flowing silently down her cheeks before she even knew it.

‘You are getting better, Jo,’ Irene said. ‘Keep telling yourself that.’

Jo watched Irene rock Archie slowly back to sleep. A gentle peace had enveloped him and Jo tried to absorb some of it. ‘I will,’ she said, not sounding as confident as she might have done before Sally’s visit. ‘I have to. I’m back at work a week on Monday.’

Irene cupped her hand on the side of Jo’s face, wiping away her tears with a thumb. ‘Then I’d better get some more practice in. Did you have much planned for today?’

‘A bit of shopping.’

‘What if I took …’ Irene began just as Jo started to speak too.

‘Could you …?’

They both smiled and the plan was settled.

After helping Irene bundle Archie and his belongings into the car, Jo bent down and rested her lips on his forehead. ‘I love you, Archie,’ she whispered.

The baby had been dozing but when she stepped back his eyes were open and he frowned at her. Jo could feel her whole body trembling and she barely kept it together as she held her son’s gaze. Love me back, she pleaded silently before shutting the car door.

Giving her daughter-in-law a hug goodbye, Irene said, ‘Take some time out for you, Jo. Spend the day pampering yourself and come pick him up when you’re ready.’

Jo promised she would then hurried back into the house, bolted the door and raced upstairs to the nursery to watch Irene drive off with her son. She remained at the window long after they had driven out of sight, pretending as always that she wasn’t searching for a glimpse of David and longing for his return – if only he would be brave enough to step out of the shadows.

The house settled into an uneasy silence, but Jo knew what was coming; she could already hear echoes of David’s laughter. Her mind was intent on replaying the video Sally had shown her even as she tried to resist. She didn’t want to hear his voice or see his smile. She didn’t want to remember how much she had loved him or how impossible it was that he could ever betray her. She certainly didn’t want to consider how much she still loved him, even now.

Desperate to outrun her memories, Jo wound up the cot mobile and latched on to the rhythm of the lullaby as if it were a lifebuoy. But her imagination was stronger than the chimes of the music box and it began pulling her under. She sank to her knees as the image of her husband gained substance. He felt close enough to touch and, frustrated that she couldn’t, Jo curled herself up into a ball and put her hands over her head. When she began to cry, it wasn’t the gentle weeping that had accompanied so many long and lonely nights, nor was it the torrent of tears that had been released every time her heart had been cracked open a little further. This was a keening that grew from the pit of her stomach, becoming a howl as it ripped through her lungs and shook her whole body, again and again and again.

24

David was there in the room with her while Jo lay sleeping in bed and at first she thought she was still dreaming. She held her breath and strained her ears for the sound of the shower lurching into life, which would herald the start of the recurring dream of their last morning together. But as the seconds ticked by the bedroom remained eerily silent.

Still floating somewhere between sleep and consciousness, a shudder zipped down Jo’s spine and she released her breath with a gasp. He was definitely there, but rather than a sound, it was a smell that had alerted Jo to her husband’s reappearance in her life. She could smell David’s aftershave and when her eyes snapped open, she knew it was no dream.

‘David?’ she whispered as she lifted her head from the pillow and looked urgently around the room for signs of life. But if her husband had been there watching her sleep then he had already slipped expertly back into the shadows.

The bedroom door was still closed, nothing was out of place although there was something missing. She stared at the empty space where Archie’s bassinet should have been and gave herself a moment for her thoughts to come into focus. The last fingers of sleep released their grip on her and then she remembered everything, from marching Sally out of the house the day before, to phoning Irene later and asking if she could keep Archie a little longer. She hadn’t been able to face the battle of going out to pick him up, having expended all her energy in allowing herself the luxury of missing her husband. She had even invited him back into her dreams by sprinkling aftershave on her pillow. But what had given her comfort the evening before had brought that familiar debilitating fear slithering into her bedroom during the night. With a sickening twist of the stomach, she realized David wasn’t there after all and she was the one left feeling lost.

It had taken many gruelling weeks for Jo to pick herself up only to be knocked down again by Sally’s thirty-second video; a happy scene that challenged her conviction that David had left her, a squeal of laughter that had drowned out arguments that declared her husband’s guilt; a smile that insisted he loved her and would never leave her. It was evidence that told her that, if she was brave enough to listen, she should start grieving for her husband.

But this morning, with chills still running through her veins after David’s latest visitation, Jo wasn’t listening – her husband was still out there, somewhere. The feeling of being stalked was slowly wearing her down and now, she was barely functioning. She didn’t think she would be able to pick herself up again this time, but she had no choice, not today. It was eight o’clock and Steph would be dropping Lauren off at any moment so she dragged herself out of bed, pulling the bedding with her so she could put it in the washing machine and protect herself from the danger of loving memories once more.

‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’ Steph asked half an hour later as she stood at the door looking dubiously at her sister. Jo was wearing leggings and an oversized shirt that now had damp patches on the shoulders where her soaking wet hair dripped.

‘I should think Lauren will be the one looking after me rather than the other way around,’ Jo said.

The throwaway comment was a little closer to the truth than Jo would have liked and she suspected her sister felt the same. Steph’s only alternative would be to take her stroppy teenage daughter away with her but with Heather on her travels too, that would leave Jo completely on her own, alone and vulnerable. The solution had suited everyone.

‘She knows the rules,’ Steph said, looking to Lauren who had slipped away into the house as soon as she heard a lecture coming on.

‘Can I make some toast, please?’ Lauren asked, already halfway to the kitchen.

‘Make some for Jo as well,’ Steph said as she too stepped over the threshold. ‘I bet you haven’t eaten a thing yet, have you?’ As she spoke she peeked into the living room, having already noticed the pram missing from its usual space in the hall. ‘Where’s Archie?’

‘Irene wanted to get some practice in before I go back to work.’

‘She’s had him overnight?’

‘They were getting on like a house on fire,’ Jo said, ‘and she persuaded me a good night’s sleep would do me some good.’

Steph cocked her head as she listened to the lies slip effortlessly off her sister’s tongue. ‘So when are you going to pick him up?’

‘I thought it would be nice for me and Lauren to have a girlie weekend to ourselves, and Irene doesn’t mind. I’ve said I’ll go and get him once you’ve collected Lauren tomorrow.’ When Steph didn’t look convinced, Jo smiled. ‘I’m not about to abandon my own son, Steph.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ her sister said. ‘And I hate to spoil your plans for a girlie night but Lauren has asked if she can go to her friend’s house later to work on a project. It contributes to her exam results, otherwise I would have said no outright but I did say she’d have to check with you first.’

‘Oh,’ Jo said in a tone that suggested disappointment but was nearer to a sense of dread she was struggling to define. ‘If she needs to go then of course she can.’

Steph raised her voice for Lauren’s benefit and said, ‘I’ve told her she has to let you know when she’s leaving her friend’s house. She’s fine getting the bus home but she has to be back by ten at the very latest.’

Jo’s stomach lurched as she imagined sitting at home waiting for someone she loved to arrive home. ‘I would rather pick her up,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘I know,’ Steph said, and didn’t argue. She recognized the fear in Jo’s face for what it was. ‘But don’t let her run rings around you. Here’s her friend’s address and I’ve also written down the address and phone number of the hotel we’re staying at. I’ll have my mobile switched on too. If there are any problems I want you to promise you’ll let me know straight away.’

They both heard the sound of a car horn from the road. Gerry was losing patience.

‘I get the message! Now go before Gerry drives off without you,’ Jo said, grabbing the piece of paper from her sister who still refused to move. ‘Go, Steph!’

When Jo was eventually released from her sister’s clutches, she followed the smell of toast that cut through the scent of disinfectant in the kitchen.

‘Rule number one,’ Jo said as she took in the scene of chaos that Lauren had created in a matter of minutes. ‘You leave the kitchen as you found it.’

Lauren sighed heavily as she put the lid back on the jar of marmalade and returned it to the cupboard, albeit on the wrong shelf and with the label facing inwards. Jo frowned and drew her gaze away from the cupboard and towards the dusting of crumbs covering what had been a pristine countertop. Sensing her aunt’s disapproval, Lauren gave a tut before stuffing half a piece of toast in her mouth and then swiping the crumbs off the counter and on to the floor.

BOOK: The Missing Husband
7.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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