‘Or do it for you,’ she interrupted. ‘Set yourself free. Being unhappy with your husband isn’t the happiest you’ll ever feel. Not if you take control of the situation.’
Jennifer’s words stayed with me all afternoon, whirling around my head even as I slid into the taxi with Mum to go home hours later. Being unhappy with my husband isn’t the happiest I’ll ever feel.
Mum was staying with me again because Dad had decided to go fishing, and she didn’t want to be alone. I offered her a tea when we got in, but she turned it down. I suppose I should’ve seen the problem then. When has Mum ever turned down tea? But I was so wrapped up in Ethan and the children we don’t have, I didn’t pay it the attention it deserved. It was only 7 p.m. when I told her I was going up to bed. I wanted to think. So, I left her. I left her all alone downstairs. And I went up to bed. With Ethan in his office, I snuck to my sock drawer and pulled out my contraceptive pill. My secret. I hadn’t even put it in my mouth when I heard the crash. Shoving the packet back in the drawer, I padded into the hallway. I didn’t hurry. I should’ve, but I had no idea what had happened. The large wooden clock in the dining room is always falling off the wall and making an almighty racket. But it wasn’t the clock, Ellie-Bee.
In the dining room, I saw blood. Saw her crumpled body on the floor. Then I started bleating, like she did when we walked into your house and realised something terrible had happened, ‘Mum! Mum! Mum!’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
31 Days Missing
Elodie Fray
I’m locked in the house. Jack has been gone for days and the key I have to the front door doesn’t work. I can’t get out. Can’t leave. At first, I’m confused, but soon, fury bubbles and blisters beneath the surface of me. Jack’s done this on purpose. He must’ve. He knows I want to go home, so he locked me in. I’m sure of it.
Fighting down panic, I reach for the phone in the hallway. I promised I’d never call Jack in case the police were checking phone records but what choice do I have?
The phone is dead.
And though the lights are working, none of the TVs are.
Frantic, I go through every drawer and pot, looking for another key. The windows are locked too, all except the attic-room balcony, but I’d have to be mad to try and break out of Wisteria that way. Eventually, rage and desperation turn into sickening anxiety. Time bleeds. It pours from my wrists and soaks into the floorboards. I watch shadows move across the soft cream walls. There’s nothing left to do. Beneath a throw on the sofa, I shake like an abandoned dog. If Jack isn’t back by morning, I’ll have to smash a ground-floor window to get out. I’ve tried to avoid this because, if someone notices before I can get to Jack, and they report a break-in, the police could dust Wisteria for fingerprints and then we’ll both have to explain.
I must’ve fallen asleep because I’m woken by a hand on my shoulder. I jump, my heart slamming against my ribs.
‘It’s me,’ says Jack.
I blink up at him through the soft glow of the table lamp. My stiff muscles flare to life as I sit up. He hugs me; the cold still clings to his skin, his coat. ‘I wanted to come sooner,’ he tells me, ‘but the police asked me to put out an appeal for your safe return.’
Hope beats its wings inside my chest. ‘They don’t suspect you anymore?’
‘Don’t think so. I guess they couldn’t find any evidence. Makes sense since there isn’t any.’
‘Great.’ I get to my feet. ‘I can go home then.’
‘Once I’ve filmed the appeal. It helps my credibility. If they see I’m actively trying to get you back, it should shake them off for good. How’s your arm?’
‘Fine. Good.’ It’s been nearly a month since the attack and it’s healed nicely. I stare at the floor, building up the courage to ask him.
‘What’s wrong?’ asks Jack.
I take a breath. ‘Did you lock me in here?’
He frowns. ‘What?’
‘The key you left doesn’t work.’
‘There’s a spare in the hallway drawer.’
I move past him and out into the hallway. Jack follows. He watches as I pull open the drawer and there, in the corner, poking out from beneath loose papers, is a brass key. ‘That wasn’t there before.’
‘Did you look properly, or did you panic and just riffle through manically?’
I mean, I wasn’t exactly calm when I looked. I stare at the key, feeling like a total idiot.
He laughs. ‘You thought I’d resorted to imprisonment?’
Yes, I think. ‘No,’ I say.
He raises an eyebrow.
‘I thought maybe … you were worried I’d leave.’
‘I know you wouldn’t leave. You’re not selfish. You wouldn’t accept my help, agree to stay here, only to stab me in the back when it gets rough. Not after everything I’ve done for you.’
I feel a pang of guilt because if he hadn’t come back when he did, I’d have done exactly that.
He scoops up the bags by the door and carries them into the kitchen. ‘You know a storm is coming?’
‘No?’
He unpacks the food shop. ‘Didn’t you see it on the news?’
‘No. The TVs aren’t working, I thought maybe …’
‘What?’
I shrug, awkward.
‘You thought I interfered with the TVs too?’
‘No,’ I say too quickly.
There’s a beat of silence. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘In case I saw my family on the news and wanted to go home. I mean, you did have me abducted, Jack. Can you blame me for wondering?’
‘I did that for you. I’m risking everything for you.’ His anger hacks out like a cough; I feel guilty for even asking because he’s right. Then his irritation gives way to hurt. ‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Good.’ He kisses my forehead and I’m forgiven. ‘Look, it’s probably just a fuse. I’ll fix it.’
‘Thanks.’
Jack finishes unpacking the food and pours us both a drink. He smiles at me and I smile back. It’s a relief to have him here. To feel less alone. To know he’s the one person who’ll always be there for me. Do anything for me.
I clear my throat. ‘How’re my family?’
‘Fine. Nothing to report.’
I nod.
‘Look, you’ve been gone a month, your story is gaining notoriety, that’s the important thing. I think my appeal will help push it over the edge and divert any suspicion. I’m sure when you reunite with your family, they’ll realise how much they missed you. Let’s just hold off a couple more days until my appeal is filmed and aired?’
Even after hearing my parents are more comfortable with it being me who was abducted, I can’t help but miss them; I wish they missed me too. And I do want to go home. ‘When will that be?’
‘Few days. I’ll stay until after the storm, go back to Crosshaven, do the appeal, then you can go.’
He looks at me imploringly. I don’t want the police or anyone else to suspect he had something to do with my disappearance. I don’t want him to resent me if I leave now. ‘Fine,’ I say. ‘A few more days.’
Jack picks me up and spins me. ‘I promise this is for the best.’
Later, we curl up on the sofa and binge watch Jack’s pick: The Ted Bundy Tapes.
‘He’s the most terrifying serial killer,’ I say as the credits roll.