Page 80 of The World Outside My Window

‘That’s amazing,’ Carol says, eyes wide, and adds

Jim seen in Putney?

in big capital letters to the bottom of the board, underlining it twice. She takes a step back to admire her handiwork.

‘And what’s the other thing, dear?’

Laura takes a deep breath. ‘It’s something – well, I don’t quite know what to make of it.’ Her stomach roils with nerves. ‘The police told me that Jim doesn’t work for a hotel chain based in Leeds.’

‘What?’ Simon has spoken this time. ‘But isn’t that where he spends half his week?’

Laura nods miserably. ‘That’s what he’s always told me, yes. But it can’t be true because—’ She stops, feeling foolish. ‘There isn’t a hotel chain based in Leeds.’

A silence descends on the room, the roar of the electric fire and the distant hum of cars on the road nearby the only sounds. Debbie speaks first.

‘Of course, there could just be a simple misunderstanding. But – well, we’re starting to think there might be something more sinister going on. Aren’t we, Lau?’

Laura looks so dejected Carol feels quite sorry for her. Although she wouldn’t have missed holding this meeting for the world, she can clearly see that it isn’t looking very promising for Laura. She turns to face her audience. ‘So this is what we have so far,’ she announces. Her cheeks are pink and a stray chunk of hair has sprung loose from its bind of hairspray and bobs around every time she moves. She rolls up the sleeves of her cardigan, digs a tissue from her pocket and dabs delicately around her mouth. The room is stifling. ‘I think it’s safe to say that there are a number of questions here…’

Laura fixes her eyes on the photo of Charles and Diana’s wedding on top of the TV and drifts off, letting Carol’s words soothe her like a warm bath. While she’s convinced this meeting will shed no new light on Jim’s whereabouts, she has realised one thing, at least. She’s no longer the weak woman she always assumed herself to be. She has proven to herself, not only that she can take matters into her own hands to make things happen, but that, in fact, there are people who care about her, and want to help her. You only have to look at everyone sardined into this room to realise that.

She’s realised something else too: she’s been so engrossed in this meeting that she’s barely had time to worry about her anxiety, or about being scared of being outside her own home. Which means that, no matter what happens now, she’s made huge progress.

This is the start of a new beginning for her – with Jim, or without him.

* * *

Laura and Debbie are the last to leave, and there’s so much food left that Carol insists they take it home with them, all bundled up into Tupperware boxes.

‘You look as if you need a bit of decent food inside you,’ she says, handing them three enormous Sainsbury’s carrier bags stuffed to the brim. ‘Just make sure you put the sausage rolls into an air-tight container and pop the quiche in the fridge.’

‘Thank you, Carol, you really don’t need to do this,’ Debbie says as they hover on the doorstep.

‘It’s my pleasure, really.’

It’s dark now and the wind has got up, sharp shards of icy rain pelting them as they bundle down the front path, through the gate and back up Laura’s path. After the heat of Carol and Arthur’s house the cool stillness of Laura’s hallway is a welcome relief and they kick off their boots and hang their coats on the rack, then make their way through to the kitchen. The ancient strip light stutters as it comes to life, filling the room with a harsh white glare.

‘Well, what did you make of that?’ Debbie says, slinging open the fridge door and piling a few of the boxes of food inside.

Laura doesn’t answer at first and Debbie slams the door shut and spins round. ‘What’s wrong?’

Laura shakes her head. ‘Sorry, nothing.’ She stops and rubs her hand through her hair. ‘It was quite a lot to take in.’

Debbie grins and the sight of it makes Laura grin too. Then Laura can feel her shoulders begin to shake and the mirth bubbles up inside her, rising from her very depths up through her chest and bursting out of her mouth. The sound is so unexpected it makes her laugh even harder, and soon both of them are doubled over, barely able to breathe, the tension from the last few hours, days, weeks, months frothing over and spilling out onto the kitchen floor in gasps of laughter and shrieks of hysteria. Slowly, Laura gets herself back under control, wipes the tears from her mascara-stained cheeks and lowers herself into a chair. Debbie follows suit, the hilarity simmering now, just the occasional bubble of mirth bursting out unexpectedly.

‘God, I needed that,’ Laura says, a smile still tugging at the corners of her mouth, and the action feels unfamiliar, but welcome.

‘Me too.’ Debbie reaches over and grabs her friend’s hand, suddenly serious. ‘I can’t tell you how brilliant it is to see you smiling again,’ she says. ‘It’s been so long.’

Laura nods. ‘I know. I – I don’t know what came over me.’

‘What were you even laughing about?’

Laura shrugs. Whatdidshe find so funny? Was it Carol’s overly officious tone as she conducted her meeting, the piles and piles of food they forced on her, or something else, something deeper, more primal than that? ‘I think I just realised I’m not sure I even care where Jim is any more.’

Debbie sits up, suddenly serious. ‘You don’t mean that.’

Laura sighs. ‘Probably not. I just – I can’t help thinking that if he really loved me he would never have upped and left. And given all the evidence mounting up that he’s been lying to me for a long time about something, I’m beginning to wonder if I even want him to come back now anyway.’ She stares at the bag of food in front of her and refuses to meet Debbie’s eye.

---