have? Already? What happened?’
‘I woke at midnight last night and saw your messages. The detective arrived shortly afterwards. She is coming by again this morning. I’ll know more by then.’
‘Detective? Shit. So they think she has actually gone missing? Not run off somewhere?’
‘I don’t know,’ is all she can muster.
The distance between them is stifling. Not only are they on different sides of the country, but they seem like two strangers, completely unsure of what to say to one another. There is an unfamiliar awkwardness sitting between them like a brick wall. She hates it. She wants the love of her life back, not this deceitful intruder who has helped to destroy her life.
‘I need to see you,’ he says.
‘I can’t see you right now. It’s hard enough even talking to you.’
‘Brooke’s missing, Lou. We need to be together, to support each other.’
‘This doesn’t change what has happened between us.’
‘For goodness sake, Louise. Brooke is missing. I need you. Dominic needs you. Come home.’
‘Brooke told me you hit her.’
She hadn’t planned to use this as a ploy to deflect his charm and pleads, but she had planned to confront him. The man she loves with all her heart hurt the very first thing they created together. It’s almost as treacherous and agonising as the affair.
‘I feel so awful,’ he replies. ‘I didn’t know I had done it until it happened. It wasn’t planned or decided, it just happened. I hate myself for what I did.’
‘I don’t understand it, Michael. You’ve never raised your hand to anyone – why Brooke? Why now?’
‘Everything is falling apart without you. I feel so outof control. Brooke was hysterical, she said some spiteful things – not that that is a justification, it isn’t – but it happened, and I can’t take it back.’
‘Will you ever do it again? To Brooke? To Dom? To me?’
‘Louise, I promise you – this will
never
happen again.’
Louise realises that she had spoken as though she will return to him, that everything will somehow become normal once more. He is already slithering back into her life with his hypnotising charm. Her chest tightens and her lungs forbid her to breathe.
‘I’ll call you later, once I’ve spoken to the detective again.’
She hangs up, shaking violently. Her husband’s voice has caused her wounded heart to pine for him, despite his sickening betrayal. She hates herself for needing him. She can’t trust herself to stay away. Having been with him for twenty years of her life, from the tender age of twenty-one, she can’t adjust to life without him, especially while their entire life is up in the air, threatening to return to the ground and crush them with a sickening splat.
She stubs out her cigarette, which has become a long pillar of ash, and goes to the bathroom. She has to get ready for a new, terrifying day.
Chapter Twenty-seven
What does a distressed mother wear? Should I wear a blouse and trousers? Jeans and a top? A dress? Should I stay in my dressing gown and leave my greasy hair as it is? Would it be odd for me to wear shoes in my own house?
Having decided on a silk blouse, and black trousers, Louise sits awkwardly at the island unit, with a cigarette in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. She doesn’t feel comfortable waiting for the detective to arrive. She doesn’t feel as though she is being aided, but being investigated herself.
Does the detective think I have something to do with Brooke’s disappearance? Is that what she thinks I’m hiding?
She raises the cigarette to her lips and takes a long, deep drag. She feels sick with exhaustion and hunger. She wants to die more than ever, to drive back to the bridge and leap off the edge without a second’s hesitation. She longs to soar down to the water and let the rocks beneath break her bones; for the current to drag her down the river while in an unconscious slumber, until her life slowly trickles away.
Forever
‘I woke at midnight last night and saw your messages. The detective arrived shortly afterwards. She is coming by again this morning. I’ll know more by then.’
‘Detective? Shit. So they think she has actually gone missing? Not run off somewhere?’
‘I don’t know,’ is all she can muster.
The distance between them is stifling. Not only are they on different sides of the country, but they seem like two strangers, completely unsure of what to say to one another. There is an unfamiliar awkwardness sitting between them like a brick wall. She hates it. She wants the love of her life back, not this deceitful intruder who has helped to destroy her life.
‘I need to see you,’ he says.
‘I can’t see you right now. It’s hard enough even talking to you.’
‘Brooke’s missing, Lou. We need to be together, to support each other.’
‘This doesn’t change what has happened between us.’
‘For goodness sake, Louise. Brooke is missing. I need you. Dominic needs you. Come home.’
‘Brooke told me you hit her.’
She hadn’t planned to use this as a ploy to deflect his charm and pleads, but she had planned to confront him. The man she loves with all her heart hurt the very first thing they created together. It’s almost as treacherous and agonising as the affair.
‘I feel so awful,’ he replies. ‘I didn’t know I had done it until it happened. It wasn’t planned or decided, it just happened. I hate myself for what I did.’
‘I don’t understand it, Michael. You’ve never raised your hand to anyone – why Brooke? Why now?’
‘Everything is falling apart without you. I feel so outof control. Brooke was hysterical, she said some spiteful things – not that that is a justification, it isn’t – but it happened, and I can’t take it back.’
‘Will you ever do it again? To Brooke? To Dom? To me?’
‘Louise, I promise you – this will
never
happen again.’
Louise realises that she had spoken as though she will return to him, that everything will somehow become normal once more. He is already slithering back into her life with his hypnotising charm. Her chest tightens and her lungs forbid her to breathe.
‘I’ll call you later, once I’ve spoken to the detective again.’
She hangs up, shaking violently. Her husband’s voice has caused her wounded heart to pine for him, despite his sickening betrayal. She hates herself for needing him. She can’t trust herself to stay away. Having been with him for twenty years of her life, from the tender age of twenty-one, she can’t adjust to life without him, especially while their entire life is up in the air, threatening to return to the ground and crush them with a sickening splat.
She stubs out her cigarette, which has become a long pillar of ash, and goes to the bathroom. She has to get ready for a new, terrifying day.
Chapter Twenty-seven
What does a distressed mother wear? Should I wear a blouse and trousers? Jeans and a top? A dress? Should I stay in my dressing gown and leave my greasy hair as it is? Would it be odd for me to wear shoes in my own house?
Having decided on a silk blouse, and black trousers, Louise sits awkwardly at the island unit, with a cigarette in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. She doesn’t feel comfortable waiting for the detective to arrive. She doesn’t feel as though she is being aided, but being investigated herself.
Does the detective think I have something to do with Brooke’s disappearance? Is that what she thinks I’m hiding?
She raises the cigarette to her lips and takes a long, deep drag. She feels sick with exhaustion and hunger. She wants to die more than ever, to drive back to the bridge and leap off the edge without a second’s hesitation. She longs to soar down to the water and let the rocks beneath break her bones; for the current to drag her down the river while in an unconscious slumber, until her life slowly trickles away.
Forever
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