Page 88 of The World Outside My Window

‘There.’ Ben points in the same direction as Debbie, and that’s when Laura sees him too. He’s almost at the corner by the Horseshoe pub, and just seconds after she spots him, he’s swallowed up into the shadows. She feels untethered, as if she could float away at any moment, rising above the rain-soaked street.

‘Do – do you think it really was him?’

‘There’s only one way to find out.’ Laura’s arm is almost tugged free from her shoulder as Debbie pulls her towards the space where the-man-who-might-be-Jim was a moment before. They hurry, pushing past pedestrians in their haste, eyes focused on the spot where the man was last seen. There’s an urgency to their scurried footsteps, and when they round the corner a peace cloaks them, the noise from the high street receding. They stop, almost concertinaing into each other, and peer ahead where small spots of light from the lamp posts punctuate the deepening navy blue.

‘There!’ Ben shouts, making all three of them jump as they look towards where he’s pointing. A figure hurries along, head down, dark collar pulled high, short grey hair appearing, disappearing and reappearing as it passes below each light. It’s almost impossible to tell from this distance, in this light, whether it’s Jim. But, Laura thinks, there is a definite familiarity to his gait; an almost imperceptible lean to the left as he walks, the way his arms swing slightly too much. They set off again, stealthy this time, eager to catch up but keen not to be spotted, at least not yet. It’s not clear to any of them what they might say or do once they get close enough to see whether it is Jim. Will they follow him all the way to his destination? What happens if he turns round and sees them before they get there? Will he run away? So many questions, and yet they press on.

Laura’s pulse thumps in her throat and she tries to stay focused on the man in front of her. The gap between them is closing, but she doesn’t want to get too close, not yet. What if it isn’t Jim? Is it all over then? Do they give up, assume that the person who reported the sighting to the police was mistaken the same way they have been?

But what if it is?

Laura doesn’t know. None of them do.

The figure stops, rummages in his jacket pocket. He’s between lamp posts in the semi-darkness and they can’t make out what he’s doing, so they hang back behind a parked car, watching, waiting for his next move. His face is still in darkness. Then he opens a gate to his right, and walks confidently up the path to the house. They watch as he produces a key, inserts it into the lock, and the door swings open. Laura holds her breath, waiting to see whether he will turn round, whether she will be able to see if this man is her husband before he disappears into the house…

And then he does turn, and the security lamp flicks on at the same time, flooding his face with light. Laura can see, clearer than she’s ever seen anything before, what she’s both dreaded and hoped for.

It’s Jim.

29

NOW – 24 OCTOBER 1992

Laura stands, frozen for a moment, staring at the closed front door Jim disappeared through just a few seconds ago. Her fingers stiffen into twigs, her arms branches, her body as motionless as a tree trunk. Only her heart is alive and restless, jabbering and clattering inside her chest wall like a rat trapped in a box. Beside her she can feel Ben and Debbie watching her, waiting for her to confirm what they both already know.

‘It’s him, isn’t it?’ Debbie’s voice is subdued, even though there’s no chance of Jim hearing them through the walls and doors of this house.

Laura gives a tense nod, her mind racing, trying to catch up with what’s happening. If this is Jim – and she knows it is – then why is he here? What is his connection with this house, this street in south-west London? He seems familiar with it, comfortable, as though he’s walked these streets many times before.

She turns her head to look at Debbie and Ben, and their faces reflect everything she’s just been thinking. Something isn’t right.

‘What do we do?’ Debbie says.

Laura shrugs, not yet able to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

‘I could go over there, if you like?’ Ben says, casting a glance towards the house Jim just entered.

‘I—’ Laura stops, swallows. She meets Ben’s gaze. His eyes flicker and glitter under the lights, deep blue, warm eyes. Kind eyes. In another time, another place, she’d want to get lost in them. But right here, right now, is neither the time nor the place. She needs to make a decision.

‘I think I should go,’ she says. ‘But I’d really like it if you could both come with me. I’m not sure I can do this alone.’

Debbie squeezes her hand and it reassures her she’s said the right thing. ‘Of course we will, won’t we, Ben?’

‘Of course, whatever you want,’ he says, his eyes glancing down to his feet and back up to Laura’s face. She’s pale, and the shadows cast by the angle of the street lamps make her look even more gaunt than usual.

She lifts her head defiantly. ‘Fuck it. Let’s go.’

She’s already holding Debbie’s hand but she grabs Ben’s too and starts to march across the empty street. But halfway across, Laura’s eyes catch a movement in an upstairs window and she stops dead.

‘What’s wrong?’ Debbie whispers.

Laura nods her head towards the darkened square. ‘Up there, in that small window, the one above the door.’

Ben and Debbie turn to look but can’t see anything. Then a pale moon appears in the grey smudge, hovering between the curtains. Laura squints her eyes to try and make out what – or who – it is, but it’s too dark. Then the moon shape moves closer to the window and becomes a face. A young face, pale, eyes knitted together, lips an angry smudge. It watches them, before it disappears out of sight.

‘Who was that?’ Ben says.

‘I’m not sure,’ Laura whispers. She’s still standing in the middle of the street, staring at the empty window, so Debbie pulls her off the road and onto the pavement. But before they can go any further the front door opens quietly and a figure slips outside into the small front garden. Seconds later, she’s standing right in front of Laura, the look on her face one of defiance.

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