Concerned for his safety.
Victor was the only man who had ever been kind to her. The only person who offered her an escape from the horrible life she was stuck in. Now the police were concerned for his safety.
She would do everything she possibly could to help them. She stared at the phone again. Please call. Victor. Please call!
Then a thought struck her. Victor often talked to her about his wife. He said she was a bad person. That she made him very unhappy. She wondered if she should tell the police this.
Chapter Nineteen
‘You look like shit,’ Don said.
‘Well, thank you, lover boy! You certainly know how to make a girl feel great!’
Joan sat at the kitchen table with a blinding hangover and no make-up. She’d had about one hour’s sleep. She felt like shit.
There were three messages on her mobile phone. They were all from Madge, who had rung last night. Joan had been busy in the garage with Don and had not heard her phone ring. Madge said that she and Ted had had a visit from the police, who told them that Victor was still missing. Was she okay? Why hadn’t she called them? Would she like them to pop round?
‘Don, Victor was here in the house last night. It was after you left,’ she said.
‘Then he should change his name to Houdini!’ Don said. ‘If he’s capable of getting out from under six feet of earth and a concrete screed!’
‘Victor was here,’ she said.
‘Was the Pope here too?’ he asked.
‘I’m serious.’
Don stroked her hair. ‘It’s going to be tough, love, but we have to keep calm. Yeah? Keep cool, right?’
‘Easy for you to say. You weren’t here.’
‘Ghosts don’t exist,’ he said.
Joan stared at him, angry that he doubted her. She looked at him, sitting across the table. She realized he wasn’t the big, powerful hero that he had seemed only a few days ago. In his leather jacket, sweatshirt and jeans, with his close-cropped hair and his weathered face, he looked weak. He looked so bloody weak. Victor, despite all his faults, suddenly seemed twice the man that Don was.
He got up and tried to kiss her, but she jerked back.
‘Come on, love, what’s the matter?’
She said nothing. She turned her face away from his and stared out at the garden. She looked at the lawn Victor had tended and at Victor’s shed. She looked at the greenhouse, with Victor’s tomato plants. She looked at the flower beds, at the plants that Victor had deadheaded. ‘Just take the stuff you were coming to collect. Take it and get rid of it!’
‘I love you,’ he said.
She turned and stared past Don. She gazed at the open doorway where she had seen the ring of tobacco smoke drift in, just a few hours earlier. Shit, she thought. Shit, shit, shit, what have I done?
Then her phone rang. It was Madge’s number on the display. Joan answered.
‘Joan! Joan, love! Is this true? Has Victor left you? I tried to get hold of you all night! How are you?’
Joan swallowed. Then she began to sob down the phone.
‘Joan, I’m coming over! What you need is some company!’
‘No, no, I’m fine.’
‘I’m coming over! We’re both coming over, Ted and me, right now! Ted’s taken the morning off work. We’ll be with you in half an hour. That’s what friends are for!’
‘Madge, that’s kind of you, but I’m fine—’ Joan stopped. She realized Madge had hung up.
‘Shit!’ she said.
Then she sniffed. She suddenly noticed a strange smell. But it was not that strange. It was a smell she knew only too well.
It was cigar smoke, again.
It was the smell of Victor’s cigars. It was getting stronger by the second. ‘Can you smell it?’ she said to Don.
‘Smell what?’
Joan closed her eyes. ‘You must be able to smell it!’
‘I can’t smell anything.’
‘Jesus, Don, what’s the matter with you?’
‘What’s the matter with me?’ He stared at her in shock. ‘You need to calm down.’
‘I AM CALM!’ she yelled at him. ‘Just take all the stuff from last night and GO! GET OUT OF HERE. TED AND MADGE ARE COMING. GO!’
Don took all the empty bags and tools and loaded them into his van, which was once again backed up against the garage door. ‘I’ll call you later, my love,’ he said.
But Joan did not hear him. She was in the shower, scrubbing her body and washing her hair.
Stepping out, she dried herself, then towel-dried her hair. She sat down at her dressing table in front of the bed and began to apply some make-up. As she was putting on her lipstick, something moved in the mirror.
She spun round.
Victor was standing in the doorway. He was smiling at her.
Not the fat, balding Victor with a comb-over. It was the young, handsome Victor that she had married. Young, slim Victor, with his smooth brown hair and his gorgeous smile.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I – I don’t know what happened. To us. Right?’
The doorbell rang.
Victor vanished.
She ran down the stairs and opened the front door. Her hair was a mess, her make-up only half on. Madge and Ted stood there. Each of them gave her a big hug.
‘You poor thing!’ Madge said.
‘So where’s the old bugger gone, then?’ said Ted. ‘Chopped him up, have you, and buried him under the kitchen floor?’
‘That’s not funny, Ted!’ Madge chided.
‘I’ve thought about doing that to Madge a few times, I don’t mind telling you!’ Ted said.
‘Oooh, you’re so wicked!’ Madge replied. ‘Don’t listen to him! Come on, love, let’s get the kettle on. Tell us all about it.’
Joan put the kettle on and told them all about it. She just left out the bit about her and Don being lovers, and the bit about killing Victor, and the bit about burying him under the garage floor. Apart from that, she told them pretty much everything.
Which was nothing.
Ted summed it up. ‘So, he got made redundant and was depressed?’
‘Yes,’ Joan said.
‘Why didn’t the stupid bugger tell us?’ Ted asked.
Joan shrugged. ‘Pride, I suppose.’
‘Pride comes before the fall,’ Madge said, unhelpfully.
‘I’ll give him a piece of my mind when I see him,’ Ted said. ‘Making a drama out of this! Losing your job is nothing these days. I could lose mine at any time.’
‘You’d better not,’ Madge warned him sharply.
‘Just teasing!’ Ted laughed, and kissed her.
‘He’s such a tease, Ted is!’ Madge said.
Joan could not wait for them to leave. She really did not want them to be here, in her kitchen, in her home, gobbling down her biscuits and her coffee. She did not want them doing all their lovey-dovey stuff.
But they stayed, and they stayed, and they stayed. By midday, she was almost out of coffee and biscuits. She was almost out of anything to say.
‘He’ll be back,’ Madge said.
‘He will, you’ll see,’ Ted said.
‘He’s not the suicidal type,’ Madge added.
‘No, not the suicidal type at all,’ Ted agreed.
Then the doorbell rang.
Joan opened it without checking through the window. Standing on the doorstep were two men in suits.
One introduced himself as Detective Sergeant Mick Brett. The other was Detective Constable Paul Badger. They asked if they could come in.
Chapter Twenty
Joan introduced Ted and Madge to the two detectives. ‘They are just leaving,’ she added.
Madge said she would call this evening, to see how she was.
Ted gave her a kiss and told her not to worry. ‘Victor will be back,’ he said.