‘Brooke. I think she’s lovely. I’m happy for you. Max and Heidi love her, and they love little Joe. Really, I’m happy for you.’
Luke scratched his neck. He felt a warm itchiness spreading over his shoulder and climbing up his face. He knew Cathy could see the redness forming. She’d always sensed his anxiety with uncanny precision. Her slightly trembling hand reached for his cheek. She stroked it as if to stroke the redness away. Her serious expression turned into a smile, and he forced a smile back. He had Cathy’s blessing, his friends all liked Brooke, his kids liked her, too – so why did he feel so guilty? He twisted his wedding ring around. He’d lost weight since Debbie’s disappearance. The ring would slip off easily. He pulled the ring up his finger and felt a lump forming in his throat. Anything he did would have to happen slowly. Whatever his future might hold, he still had a past that was hard to let go of. He didn’t want to let it go.
His years with Debbie had been the best of his life. Cathy, an older version of her daughter, was a daily reminder of what he grieved for. Her tiny nose and large hazel eyes made him think of Debbie. Her voice was slightly more hoarse than Debbie’s, but he could still hear the similarities. The way she poured tea, walked, tended to the garden and hugged the kids was so like Debbie. He pushed the ring back down. Brooke understood that things were difficult for him. They were difficult for her too. As a young woman who’d lost her husband to cancer only three years earlier, she still wore her ring. They didn’t need to explain it to each other; they just knew. They’d both been very much in love with their past partners.
Cathy wiped away the tear that was rolling down his cheek. ‘She wouldn’t want this, you being unhappy.’ She paused. ‘We might never know what happened. In fact, the more time that passes by, the more I lose confidence that we’ll ever know—’ Cathy placed her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. ‘She would want you and the children to be happy. I want you to be happy too. Damn it, this is hard. I love you like a son and I love those children with my life, and you have my blessing. You’re a good man, Luke, and you deserve all the happiness in the world. I’m always here for you.’ She opened her eyes, stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him once on the cheek. ‘You smell lovely, and that new jumper is really you.’ She opened the door and left, waving as she reached the gate. ‘Give the munchkins a kiss from Nanny.’
‘Will do, see you tomorrow. We love you too – and thanks for putting the Christmas tree up!’ He closed the door and fell against the wall. Cathy was right. He loved Brooke’s company, and he was going to try and make it work. He paced up and down, waiting for the knock on the door. He glanced at his watch again. A couple of minutes to go.
He ran to the kitchen, grabbed a packet of mints from the drawer and crunched on one. He stared into the garden. Max’s goalpost leaned upright against the back fence. The sandpit the kids were too old for was filled with murky water.
He looked at the family photo that was perched on the windowsill. Debbie was holding baby Max while he was holding Heidi. He remembered that Heidi had been a little terror during that photo shoot. The more they’d tried to placate her, the worse she’d become. They’d put it down to jealousy. He remembered picking her up and hugging her, explaining that Mummy and Daddy loved her ‘more than ice cream and chocolate sauce’. For one moment, he’d got her to smile. The photo in front of him had been taken at that exact moment. The rest of the day had continued as a tantrum fest. He picked up the photo and traced Debbie’s outline. She hadn’t been sure of the photo shoot and had spent the morning complaining about her baby weight. She looked a little puffy in the face, but he loved her puffiness. He loved everything about her. She’d given him two beautiful, healthy children. She had made their family and for that he’d given his whole self to her.
There was a knock at the door. He placed the photo back on the sill. ‘I’ll always love you, Deb,’ he whispered as he pulled the blind down over the photo, shutting out the drizzly weather and the memories of a long-gone chapter in his life.
He grabbed an umbrella from the stand and opened the door. Brooke smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. He placed his arm around her waist and kissed her back. ‘So, you don’t regret last night?’ she asked.
He stroked her damp hair and looked into her eyes. Debbie would always be in his heart, but his heart was big enough to give more love. He shook his head and smiled. ‘I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.’
‘Me too,’ she replied as she took his hand and led him towards Jake’s house. He knew the other parents would talk, but he didn’t care. He’d been a devoted husband and Brooke had been a devoted wife. They were both just two people with a lot of love to give and they’d found each other. The rain fell heavier. He put the umbrella up and pulled Brooke closer to him. She bit her bottom lip, brushed her curly blonde hair away from her face and smiled. Maybe he was ready to finally say goodbye to Deborah.
Eight
A cockerel screeched in the distance. Debbie smiled, savouring the sound of the outside world. She placed her ear against the wall, hoping to hear it a little clearer. Occasionally she’d hear vehicles rumble by. She knew she was by a road and that it was likely a minor one. It was probably only an access road, given the number of vehicles that used it. On a still day, she was sure she could hear the hum of traffic. Maybe there was a dual carriageway or a motorway in the distance. She had no idea where she was, except that it was rural and she was being kept in a cold, two-storey outbuilding.
The night she’d been taken haunted her. At six thirty that evening she’d left work for the bus stop. She normally finished at five but she’d been making up time after watching Heidi’s Christmas play earlier in the day. Luke had nagged her for years to take her driving test again, but earlier failures and her near miss of an elderly man crossing the road on a mobility scooter had rendered her phobic of driving. She pondered the ‘what ifs’ over and over again, until they’d driven her crazy. That Friday, the twentieth of December, was the beginning of what was to become her nightmare.
* * *
The orange glow of lamplights led Debbie through the deserted industrial estate. Rain bounced off her umbrella as she passed a factory and scurried alongside the closed snack van. A cat darted across the path and a small van narrowly missed hitting it. Water seeped into her shoes; her toes had been numb for a good five minutes already. Then the van stopped in the road beside her, the driver like some sort of hero in a warm vehicle. As his window came down, the sound of Christmas filled the air. Mariah Carey sang, ‘All I want for Christmas is you.’ The scent of his vanilla air freshener travelled with the breeze, filling her nostrils.