The Missing Husband (3 page)

The sound of rain hitting the roof had stopped but if Jo imagined she could dispense with her umbrella then she was sorely disappointed. The drizzle fell in rolling waves that were as wet as the ocean.

‘You need a new coat,’ Kelly said as they stood beside their cars, which were parked next to each other on the mud patch that served as a car park. She was staring at the gaping hole through which Jo’s stomach protruded.

‘I know, I’ll get round to it.’

‘There are a couple of spare waterproof jackets in the office if you don’t mind the Nelson’s logo. I’m sure one’s a large size. It’ll do for now if you want.’

‘Maybe,’ Jo said with a note of irritation that had nothing to do with Kelly reminding her again that she was as big as a house. ‘Or maybe David will finally notice and take me on a shopping spree.’ Her umbrella was doing little to protect her from the vaporous drizzle that defied gravity and swirled around her. As she dipped her head against the worst of it she caught sight of Kelly’s trailing hem, which was now caught in a stiletto heel.

‘Shall I see you back at the office then?’ Kelly asked.

‘I was going to suggest we have lunch on the way back but then I wasn’t expecting the meeting to end so quickly or be so easy. I should have known Jim wouldn’t need convincing.’

‘I hope it’s all worth it in the end. I still think there’s a chance this Mr Harrison is only setting us up for a claim somewhere down the line. It’s too easy these days to convince your GP that you’re having a breakdown so you can get signed off work and then wait for a big payoff when your employer loses patience.’

Jo winced and she wasn’t sure if it was the sight of Kelly’s hem being buried in the mud or her assistant’s cynicism. ‘I don’t think Simon has anything else in mind except putting the past behind him and getting back to a normal life as soon as he can,’ she said, thinking back to the handful of welfare visits she had made. She knew Simon quite well but had barely recognized him. He was haunted by memories of the accident and his misery had been excruciating to watch. ‘If it turns out he isn’t genuine then I think it would pretty much destroy my faith in humanity.’

Kelly shifted from one foot to the other, digging her heels deeper into the mire. ‘It’s not like you to be so defeatist. Are you all right?’ she asked.

Jo put a hand against her back as she stretched her spine and pushed her bump out even further. ‘Oh, just tired I suppose. David was up at five this morning and I didn’t get back to sleep. And for the record, I’m not being defeatist because I know Simon Harrison will not let me down,’ she said purposefully. ‘Now, let’s get out of this rain and back to the office. We can always do lunch later.’

Kelly was the first to leave the car park and although Jo started up the engine, she didn’t drive off straight away. She placed her mobile into its hands-free cradle and dialled into her voicemail. As she waited for David’s message to kick in, she flipped open the mirror on her sun visor and concentrated on flattening her fringe, which was all frizz and damp curls. She stopped what she was doing when she heard the tone of David’s voice: it was as foul as the weather.

‘So you’re still not speaking to me then?’ he asked before releasing a long sigh of surrender. ‘You’re so damn stubborn.’ There was another pause as he considered what to say next. ‘You want things your way and you want them now. Well, you may not believe me but I have been thinking about the future. In fact, I haven’t been able to think about anything else, and you’re in for one hell of a shock Jo, because I’ve been making plans.’

Jo raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, really?’ she answered as if he was sitting next to her.

‘And before you say it: yes, really,’ David added. There was another pause and another sigh. ‘I’d better go into the seminar now but I’ll see you later. Assuming you want me to come home, that is.’

Jo’s response was as petulant as her husband’s. She stuck her tongue out at the phone, which had fallen silent. It didn’t make her feel any better and she frowned at her reflection in the mirror, not liking what she saw. David had accused her of being stubborn and in fairness she could offer no defence because it was her obstinacy that prevented her from phoning him straight back. She was always too quick to put up defences and impossibly slow to pull them down again, a replica of her mother, some said. In contrast, her dad was warm and compromising, traits that he had passed on to her sister. Not that Steph considered herself lucky; she complained that she had also inherited his sluggish metabolism.

Jo snapped shut the mirror and returned the sun visor to the upright position then tried to find a comfortable position behind the steering wheel which was getting perilously close to her expanding girth. She found the lever on the stem and adjusted the wheel a fraction to give her baby more room.

‘There you go, FB. Is that better?’

There was a strong flutter that could have been either a kick or a punch and she rubbed her stomach contentedly as she wondered what David had meant about making plans. His comment was meant to keep her guessing – he was intent on playing with her as much as she was playing with him – and it was working. Had he been working up ideas for decorating the nursery? Did he have a long list of baby names? Or maybe he was thinking further ahead, about what school their child would go to or how long they should wait before baby number two? Basically, she thought wryly, any acknowledgement
at all
that they were having a baby would be a good start. David’s stubborn refusal to discuss any of these things so far had gone way beyond playing mind games.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said to her baby as if he or she were wondering the same things too. ‘We’ll get through this. We just have to hold our nerve and get your dad so riled up that he’ll be desperate to do anything not just for me but for you too. So he’s making plans, is he? Well, I’ve heard that before and I’m not taking the bait. It’s time he stopped planning and started
doing
.’ That was, after all, what Jo had done by getting pregnant in the first place.

When she looked up, the windscreen had completely misted over and she found herself settling her vision on a spot just beyond the grey shroud, casting her mind towards the future. A shudder ran down her spine when she couldn’t quite place David there but the premonition was countered by another baby kick and she pushed the unwelcome thought to the back of her mind.

Switching the fan heater on to full blast, Jo waited for the grey veil to lift. She wished her obstinacy could be vanquished as easily but she had spent months being understanding and patient. David needed to know that the time had come for him to step up to the mark, so she refused to phone him back and instead drove off, secure in the knowledge that they had all the time in the world to make amends.

Back at her desk, time slowed down to a snail’s pace, and each laborious tap of the keyboard echoed off the walls of Jo’s office. Unsettled by the sound, she stopped what she was doing and tried to collect her thoughts. She turned her back on the glass partition that separated her from the main office to gaze out of the eighth floor window with its panoramic view of the Liverpool waterfront, but no matter which way she turned, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the one on the outside looking in.

In reality there was only one person she felt disconnected from and she checked her phone again. It was one o’clock. David’s seminar would have broken up for lunch by this time and she willed him to phone. She was ready to speak to him now but she needed him to want it more. She reasoned that he was best placed to know when he had a free moment, so although her finger stroked the soft, supple buttons of her mobile, she refused to dial his number. Was he doing the same?

‘Here,’ Kelly said as she marched into the office giving Jo a start. ‘If Mohammed won’t go to the mountain, then …’ She dropped a packet of sandwiches and a carton of orange juice on to Jo’s desk. When she saw the way Jo grimaced, she added. ‘You need to eat something. You have to look after yourself, not to mention whoever’s in there.’

Jo put her phone face down on the desk before idly rubbing the rounded stomach which Kelly had just pointed at. ‘Sorry about letting you down for lunch.’

‘That’s all right; I’m trying to drop a dress size by Christmas anyway.’ Kelly put her hand on her hip and tried to pinch at the excess fat she imagined had wrapped itself around her body while she wasn’t looking.

‘You don’t need to lose weight,’ Jo protested.

‘Neither do you,’ Kelly answered. It was her turn to grimace. ‘You do know I didn’t mean to suggest you were fat before, don’t you?’

Smiling, Jo said, ‘Yes.’

‘So eat.’

‘I will,’ she said while playing with the corner of the plastic container without actually picking up the sandwich.

Kelly wasn’t convinced. ‘It’s still not too late to go out for lunch if you fancy a breath of fresh air.’

Jo glanced out the window and dared Kelly to follow her gaze. From this vantage point, they could see the riverfront where angry waves were being smashed against the promenade by gale force winds. ‘Not that much fresh air.’

‘Or maybe go somewhere for a break and a chat?’ The question was tentative. Even though Jo had taken her under her wing, she wouldn’t describe Kelly as a close friend. When they did talk, it was usually Jo offering advice or guidance and on the rare occasions when she had a problem to talk through, she would be the one to initiate the discussion just as she would be the one to figure out the way forward. Kelly’s inquiry was at best a prompt to see if Jo needed a sounding board. ‘Are you sure everything’s all right, Jo?’

‘Probably,’ she said. ‘I’m in a weird mood, that’s all.’

‘It’ll be your hormones. When my sister was pregnant she blamed everything on them.’

‘So what was my excuse before I got pregnant?’ Jo asked but didn’t dare wait for an answer. ‘Now, have you drafted the Simon Harrison letter yet?’

‘Sorry, I’ve been digging out personnel files for Gary’s meeting this afternoon.’

It was Jo’s turn to follow Kelly’s gaze towards the open plan office where Gary was peering over his PA’s shoulder as she typed away furiously. He looked up and caught them watching him. When Jo scowled he lifted up his hands by way of an apology. As Head of HR, Gary was her immediate boss but he wasn’t beyond reproach for commandeering her assistant’s valuable time.

‘He’s known about that meeting for three weeks and he still leaves everything until the last minute,’ Jo said, still glaring at him. He winked; she smiled. All was forgiven. Gary might be disorganized but he was good at his job and with twenty years’ experience on her, he was a great mentor who would be the first to admit he could learn a thing or two from her organisational skills.

‘At least it’s Jeanette’s turn to be harassed now, so I can get on with the letter. I’ll have it finished by the time you’ve finished your lunch.’ Kelly raised an eyebrow, daring Jo to recognize the veiled threat.

‘Thanks, Kelly.’

Left to her own devices, Jo made a start on her sandwich but the bread lodged in her dry throat. She told herself she was being ridiculous. Someone had to be the bigger person; David had tried to make the first move so why couldn’t she?

‘You are such a child, Joanne Taylor,’ she told herself. ‘Stop sulking.’

She picked up her phone and dialled but the call was immediately put through to voicemail. Jo hung up, not sure what she should say. She couldn’t stop thinking about her husband’s mysterious plans and was desperate to know what they were. Her obstinacy was showing again but this time it was working in David’s favour – she wasn’t going to give up that easily. She had started to compose a text message when her mobile burst into life.

‘David?’

‘No, it’s Lauren,’ came a cheerful, almost lyrical voice.

Lauren was Jo’s favourite and only niece and, at fifteen years old, it was unlikely to be a social call. ‘What are you after?’ Jo demanded.

‘Who says I’m after anything?’

‘What are you after, Lauren?’

Lauren sighed heavily and Jo imagined her raising her eyes to the heavens. ‘I’ve been picked for the Christmas pantomime.’

‘And?’

‘I need to design and make my own costume.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Jo said dismissively.

‘Jo …’

‘What?’ Jo asked, tapping her keyboard loudly to let Lauren know she was busy and in no mood for playing games.

‘I was hoping my most favourite, most talented aunt in all the world would help me. Mum’s hopeless at that sort of thing,’ whined Lauren as the child within let herself be known. ‘Please, Jojo.’

‘I presume by help you mean that I do everything and you take the credit?’

‘Thank yoooooo!’ Lauren squealed.

Jo was laughing too much to point out she hadn’t agreed to help yet but they both knew she would. Lauren was right: Steph would be hopeless.

With the arrangements made and the call ended, Jo sat staring at her mobile. There was another matter that took precedence over any school production. She was going to take her time composing a text message to David and she was going to make every word count.

The message had been exceptionally long in its early drafts but by the time Jo was ready to press send, it was direct and to the point.

Sorry, hope you didn’t get too wet.

Will pick you up from Lime St if you want.

What plans?!!?

J x

Her finger hovered over the send button as she recalled lying in bed that morning listening to him leave. They were at loggerheads with each other but Jo had never lost sight of the one thing that still held true. She inserted a new line.

I do love you.

Rather than wait for an immediate response, which was unlikely given that David would be engrossed in his seminar again, Jo slipped her phone out of sight in her handbag. Even without knowing his reaction, the act of sending the text message alone gave Jo a sense of release and the impetus to focus fully on her work for the first time that day.