Dark Place to Hide by A J Waines Read Free Book Online

damage.
    In my view, my father had done a terrible thing to me and our family. I hated him for going. We met up now and again – every time away from the house, but it always felt fake. The ice cream never tasted the same, the rides on the big dipper had lost their thrill, the amusement arcades felt tacky and cheap.
    Then he died of a heart attack when I was fifteen. It was a shock to everyone, but to me it was as if he had died a second time.
    Amidst episodes of seething rage and grief, I made a decision. In my late teens, I vowed that I was never going to put myself at risk like that again. Marriages failed – it was inevitable – and it wasn’t fair on the children who were left like pinballs, ricocheting around in the middle. I wasn’t going to go anywhere near a situation like that – one which could cause so much pain.
    Then you came along, Dee, and day by day, without you knowing it, you gently tugged me away from my resolution. I don’t know how you did it, but before long there were new ideologies folded over my old fears and doubts. After about a year, it all became clear. The way forward was a matter of me making sure I didn’t repeat the patterns in my parent’s marriage, not about avoiding the situation altogether. You helped me see that I was all the things my father wasn’t: reliable, consistent, hands on, keen to be involved. There was no way I was going to turn out like him and do what he did. I wanted to start a family. A ‘proper’ family with not just one child, but several; knitted together with support and love. I was ready, with you beside me, Dee, to be a father.
    It’s 5.30pm and I’m struggling. I don’t know how to get through the rest of the day. I find myself in one room then the next with no recollection of getting there and no purpose behind my actions. I’m waiting for something, looking for something.
    At 6pm, I can’t bear the silence anymore and I try your phone again. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve called. I leave yet another voicemail message asking you to call. It’s now almost twenty-four hours since you disappeared – this is serious. I call the police and confirmyou have not returned. I speak to a female duty sergeant and give the report number I was given yesterday. I explain you’ve been gone too long without getting in touch.
    All officers taking a report of a missing person must start with the viewpoint that it is a potentially serious crime enquiry; they’ll have to do something. She tells me they will visit ‘the premises’ this evening.
    I ring Tara and Sally again. It’s useless. There is nothing new. I decide to ring your sister once more – mainly to pass the time.
    ‘I tried to call you,’ comes her steely detached voice. ‘I’ve just heard from Diane.’
    ‘What? You have? When?’ I’m on my feet, blood charging through my body.
    ‘About twenty minutes ago.’
    ‘Thank God! Is she okay? Where is she?’
    ‘She’s fine – it was a text – but she didn’t say where she was.’
    ‘Did you ring her back?’
    ‘Yes – but it just went to voicemail.’
    ‘Why didn’t you call me?’
    ‘I did…well, I tried. You were engaged.’
    ‘Ah – I was doing another ring-round. What did she say?’ I gallop through the words greedy for answers.
    ‘She put, “Sorry – a bit stressed. Taking time out.” Then two kisses.’
    My feet rapidly fill with lead. ‘Is that it?’
    ‘Yeah. I think she just needs some space to work things through.’ Alexa never misses an opportunity to demonstrate that she knows you better than I do.
    ‘Did she say when she’s coming back?’
    ‘No. No – she didn’t. I think we need to respect her need to be alone for a bit. After what’s happened. Don’t you?’
    ‘Did she…mention me?’ I want to scream
Why didn’t you contact
me,
Dee
? but I can’t expect Alexa to answer that.
    ‘No – I told you exactly what her message said.’ As usual, she doesn’t bother to hide her