Dana smiled; then her face quickly switched to a stern expression. ‘I hope you don’t mind me parking on the drive?’
‘Not at all. My car’s at the garage. The dreaded MOT. I always get anxious. You know how it is, like a health check when you smoke forty a day. The car’s a piece of shit at the best of times, but hey, it does us.’ Jack realised he was rambling to deal with the nerves. He was aware Dana had little interest in his idle chat.
Dana moved closer to Jack, then pushed the front door. ‘I assume I’m allowed inside?’
Jack felt his world collapse for a second. He had to pull it together, gain the advantage. He pictured a revolving door at the front of a large office building, people stepping inside, rotating, disorientated and then spat out. He needed to be this door.
He stepped aside, letting Dana into his home, leaving the front door open, a subtle hint that she wasn’t welcome for long. Jack moved past Dana, brushing against her, then opened the door to the living room at the front of the house. ‘Here, come in and sit down. Can I get you anything? Tea? A coffee maybe?’
She waved her hand in the air to indicate she didn’t want a drink.
‘Okay, then,’ Jack said awkwardly.
Dana sat in the middle of the long sofa which stretched along the wall. Jack, who preferred his guests to sit at one end of the sofa while he took the other, had to choose the armchair that was too big for the living room, and it gave the impression of swallowing anyone who sat in it. He contemplated asking her to move to the end of the sofa, but he wasn’t courageous enough.
Dana looked around the living room taking in the pictures on top of the cabinet. She edged forward on the sofa. ‘Actually, I’ll have a glass of water.’
Jack struggled to get up, pushing his hands on the sides of the armchair for support like someone pushing to get out of a car when the airbags are engaged. ‘Of course.’
‘I may need to use the loo, if it’s not a problem.’
Jack was peeved. Their toilet was at the back of the kitchen, a small box room with a downstairs shower and a corner basin. There was no way he could let Dana into the kitchen. She’d see the garden, the disturbed grass and the mound of mud. The toilet was old and the base was loose. He could use this problem as an excuse. He’d have to steer her to the bathroom upstairs.
‘Upstairs. First door on the left.’
Dana moved across to the photographs as he left the room.
I need to be quick, don’t let the tap run for long, cold water will only make her stay longer.
Jack turned on the tap, staring through the window at the hole he’d dug. She can’t see it. How suspicious would it look? We’d be bang to rights.
He heard the living room door open and, though he saw her turn slightly on her way upstairs, she did not look into the kitchen.
He waited, hearing her move around above. Sweat ran down the middle of his face. He scrubbed his skin with a towel and then fanned it in front of his face to cool his body temperature. A few minutes later, Dana returned to the living room.
Jack needed to keep Dana in the living room, give her the water, tell her how sorry he was that Chloe had cold feet, how she’d probably left her partner for a better life. Hey, shit happens, Dana Goodwin, you need to deal with it. Move on. Plenty more where she came from. As the glass filled, the water seemed to trickle, like an egg timer. Jack glanced to the side, making certain he was alone. He turned, half expecting Dana to be stood behind him, looking out over the garden, seeing an arm pushing through the mud.
Jack knew Chloe wasn’t in the hole, but maybe somehow she’d be there now, waiting for Dana, her body rising, stepping out of her grave and making her way to the woman she loved.
Jack turned off the tap and went back to the living room. Dana was stood by the cabinet, holding a picture of Jack and Lydia on a weekend break, eating at a fancy restaurant on the lanes of Brighton.
Dana took the drink, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a small slug. ‘There’s something on my mind, Jack.’ The woman returned to the sofa and sat down.
‘Go on. What is it?’ Jack sat on the edge of the armchair: the task of getting up again was too much.
‘I woke this morning; the bed was empty, the house quiet. I made my way downstairs; at the same time checking my mobile for messages. There was nothing. It’s as if Chloe has vanished into thin air, puff, and she’s gone. No one has seen her; no one seems able to help. Don’t you think that’s a little strange, Jack? I think it’s strange. Wouldn’t you? If your wife – what’s her name again?’
‘Lydia,’ Jack answered.
‘Lydia. Wouldn’t you find it strange if Lydia just left? No note, no clue as to her whereabouts, just gone. Like that. Wouldn’t you think it strange, Jack?’
‘I think it’s certainly odd behaviour,’ Jack said, his voice breaking slightly as he gulped the saliva from his mouth.
‘Odd. I like that. It’s odd behaviour isn’t it, Jack. Odd that my wife just left. Odd that no one knows where she’s gone. Odd that she hasn’t called and fucking odd that I should find a bracelet with the name Lydia etched along the face.’ Dana dipped into her handbag and lifted the jewellery out.
Jack watched it dangling in the air, swirling in a circle. The light caught it and temporarily blinded him.
Dana continued. ‘It was in the hall. I missed it at first. It was under the closet door. You can imagine the shock as I picked it up, saw your wife’s name. It’s the same one she’s wearing in the picture on the cabinet. Funny that.’
‘Yeah, odd, I’d say,’ Jack answered.
‘Odd. You’re so right, Jack. It is odd. So, I now have a couple of options. A couple of questions I’d like to pose for you to mull over. One, you come clean, tell me where she is. I’m a big girl and can deal with most things thrown at me. If it’s simply that Chloe and Lydia have driven off into the moonlight, hand in hand, confessing their undying love for each other – it would explain the missing car from your drive, by the way – then I will deal with it, Jack. I will take it on the chin, move on and learn from the experience. Hey, you never know, maybe we’ll get together too. What a twist that would be. Secondly, I call the police and have them investigate it, give them this address and have them call over, check you and Lydia out, search for any skeletons in the closet. By the way, where is Lydia?’
The living room door flung open. Lydia was holding a brass figure above her head. She charged towards where Dana was sitting.
22
Ben and Lydia
Ben stared at the screen of the mobile, listening to the voice. He and Lydia had moved outside. They needed fresh air to clear their heads and prepare for the task ahead. He’d seen the caller moments ago, standing by the coach. He’d sent a video. Laura and Milly were alive but Ben had a problem. He’d foolishly watched for the caller as they walked along the path towards the barn and didn’t realise the caller would drive around the road. He was pissed off at how he’d missed it and been so naive.
What the heck was he thinking? The caller had him. If he left the barn and moved towards the coach, he risked the lives of everyone on board. If he stayed and helped Lydia, he also risked their lives. Ben had to get Lydia through this. He was tempted to flee and race back to the coach, but he was aware of the outcome. The caller would see him coming and most certainly get to his family before Ben could. He felt annoyed, agitated that he could put his family in this vulnerable position.