Page 27 of The World Outside My Window

‘Course they do, love. Every day. You need to stop treating this like something fun to fill your day with, and start taking it more seriously. It’s not an Enid Blyton novel, you know.’

Carol slams the oil down on the worktop.

‘Yes, I’m quite aware of that, Arthur, thank you very much.’

Arthur sighs. He knows what this clipped, Queen’s English voice means. It means that Carol is upset and that he is going to be punished for it, probably with a bad mood that lasts several days. He sighs again, then rubs his wife’s arm gently, trying to calm her down. ‘Come on, now, dear, don’t be like that. We’ve got to concentrate on helping these two ladies, haven’t we? Not bicker between us.’

Carol takes a long breath and holds it for so long Arthur is worried she’s about to keel over. ‘Yes, okay,’ she finally relents, whooshing the held breath out along with the words.

For the next few minutes they bustle around the kitchen making batter and peeling potatoes. They don’t say another word, but as the potatoes cook and the batter rises, Arthur knows there’s a silent truce between them because there’s no more slamming of utensils and the huffing and puffing has ceased. He is forgiven, if grudgingly.

Lunch made, they all sit down in the dining room, where Carol has placed mats, knives and forks and a basket of sliced bread and butter as well as a gravy boat on the table. Each plate is piled high with sausages wrapped in Yorkshire pudding, mashed potato and peas. Laura hasn’t seen such an enormous portion for a long time, and isn’t at all sure how she’s going to manage it all.

‘This looks lovely, thank you, Mrs Loveday,’ she says.

‘Carol, please. And thank you. Help yourself to gravy.’

Debbie picks up the enormous gravy boat and pours the steaming sauce over her dinner, then Laura does the same. As they chat Laura eats forkful after forkful, chewing carefully, taking her time. She can’t quite believe she’s sitting here, in someone else’s house, eating a meal. It’s as though someone else is pretending to be her while she’s actually back in her own living room next door, downing a bottle of wine alone. She’s come so far in the last few days it’s hard to believe she’s still the same person.

She just hopes Carol and Arthur can’t tell how fast her heart is pounding or how sick she feels, how terrified she is about the prospect of leaving here after dinner and retracing her steps home. But she knows she’ll do it, whatever it takes. And she’ll do it over and over again until she gets the answers she needs if it means she can find out what’s happened to Jim.

Her attention is drawn back to the conversation at the table by a nudge from Debbie.

‘Laura?’

‘Sorry, I was miles away. What was that?’

‘Arthur was just asking whether the police have found anything yet,’ Carol says, scooping a tiny forkful of mashed potato into her mouth.

‘No, not really. They’ve promised to keep me posted but – well, it seems as though he’s just disappeared into thin air. That’s why I’m so scared that he’s never coming back…’ She tails off, her words clinging to the Yorkshire pudding she’s just chewed that’s now blocking her throat.

‘The thing is, Jim has always been such a stickler for timekeeping,’ Debbie adds. ‘He’s – reliable. So this isn’t just anyone going missing. This isJim. We can’t understand it.’ She pushes some peas onto her fork. ‘We think someone somewhere must have a clue as to what’s happened to him. A person doesn’t simply disappear.’

Carol nods. ‘No, no, of course they don’t.’ She turns to Laura. ‘But if the police haven’t found anything then nothing too bad can have happened, can it? I mean, they’d have found something, wouldn’t they?’

Laura shrugs. ‘Not if he didn’t want them to.’

A silence hangs in the air as everyone lets the words sink in.

‘So you think he’s left you deliberately, then, do you?’ Carol struggles to contain her glee at this new development, choosing to ignore the eye roll Arthur gives her across the table.

Laura nods. ‘Yes. At least that’s what I’m hoping. Because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.’

‘Oh dear.’ Carol’s hand shoots out and rests on Laura’s arm. She pulls it away when Laura flinches. ‘I’m sure he’ll turn up.’

Laura puts her fork down. She doesn’t normally spill her guts to virtual strangers, but if she wants their help, she has to offer them something in return. She takes a deep breath, which makes her feel dizzy. Her knife is clutched so tightly in her right hand her knuckles have turned white.

‘I don’t know how much Jim told you about me?’

Carol shakes her head. ‘He didn’t tell us anything.’ Her eyes are round, like a child waiting for an ice cream.

‘Well, it’s a long story. About eighteen months ago I was attacked, and since then I haven’t been able to leave the house. It’s why we moved here, because I – we – thought it would help me, to move away from where it had happened.’ She sighs. ‘As you’ve probably guessed it hasn’t helped at all, and things are just as bad. In fact things are worse for Jim because, not only has he got me to look after, but he’s nowhere near his friends any more, so he never sees them. That’s probably why he’s made such an effort to get to know so many people here. It’s been tough, and I knew he was struggling but – well, I suppose I’ve been so self-absorbed I hadn’t noticed how hard things had got for him too.’ She wipes a tear from her cheek, the reality hitting home all over again. She’s been over and over it in her mind so many times, but, somehow, saying it out loud to Carol and Arthur in such plain terms has made her see how selfish she’s been.

‘Oh, my dear.’ Carol reaches out and places her hand firmly on Laura’s forearm and this time she doesn’t move it away.

‘Sorry.’ She looks up at the faces watching her round the table.

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.’ Carol rubs her arm and removes her hand, linking her fingers together on the table in front of her. ‘What an awful thing to have gone through. I just wish we’d have known, maybe we could have helped.’

---