Page 84 of The World Outside My Window

‘Sure,’ Laura says, holding out her glass as Debbie opens the wine bottle and glugs it in. Ben can see that Laura’s hand is shaking, and he feels as though he can’t catch his breath.

What the hell just happened there?

He can’t think about it, hasn’t got room for it in his head. But he can’t leave either, he doesn’t want to leave, so he accepts the glass of wine Debbie offers him and stays where he is.

Ben might not be able to read Laura, but Debbie can, and even through her drunken haze she can see something happened between these two when she was out of the room. What, she doesn’t know, but she can see the desire in Ben’s face, and the guilt written all across Laura’s. She just wishes she could tell her friend she has nothing to feel guilty about. Jim is the one who’s left her with a trail of lies behind him. Ben, however, has been nothing but a gentleman since the moment they met him.

She can only hope that, if they do succeed in finding Jim, Laura will come to realise the same.

PARTIII

FOUND

28

NOW – 24 OCTOBER 1992

‘Right, ready?’ Laura can feel Debbie hovering to her right and nods. To her left, she’s very aware of Ben’s proximity, his hand brushing against her elbow. She tries to focus on the open door in front of her and all its possibilities. Then, before she has a chance to change her mind, the two of them are propelling her along the last few steps of the hallway, away from the safety of her four walls, out onto her front step and into the garden. She waits while Debbie locks the door behind them and drops the key into her handbag, and Ben squeezes her arm.

‘Okay?’ he whispers, and she nods stiffly. Being in the garden is one thing, but the thought of setting foot outside this street, this town, is occupying all of her mind at the moment, and her chest feels tight, her palms clammy. She rubs them on her jeans and forces a smile.

The police haven’t been back in touch either about the possible sighting of Jim or with any more news about Jim’s work, and Laura isn’t keen on ringing them every day, knowing it won’t make the slightest bit of difference anyway. Instead, she’s tried to concentrate on this trip into London, focusing on how it might feel to walk along a crowded pavement, being jostled on every side by bags, elbows, people. Will she still search for strangers in every face, jump with fear at every movement in the shadows?

She can’t even begin to think about actually finding Jim. It’s all too much.

‘Right, let’s get in,’ Debbie says as they close her gate behind them. Ben’s VW Golf sits by the kerb and she’s so grateful that he offered to drive. The thought of the train was a step too far.

‘You go up front, I’ll sit in the back,’ Debbie says. ‘If you think you’ll be okay?’

‘I have no idea,’ Laura admits. She hasn’t even tried to imagine the thousands of cars on the motorway, the people crammed into these thousands of cars; the wide open sky, the towering buildings… She shivers, closes her eyes, and climbs into the passenger seat. She slams the door closed and instantly feels calmer, the cool, static air of the car’s interior soothing her. She can do this.

She jumps as Ben climbs in the other side and his hand brushes against hers as he reaches for the gearstick. He seems to flinch and when she looks at him his cheeks are pink and he’s staring straight out of the front of the car as if nothing has happened.Perhaps it hasn’t, Laura thinks.

The journey into London is about forty minutes, and as they rumble along the motorway Laura closes her eyes and lets the sound of the road soothe her. It’s not until the car comes to a complete standstill that she jerks awake and looks round, sleepily. A red brick wall looms in front of her, cars on either side. She looks to her right to find Ben watching her. ‘We’re here,’ he says softly.

‘Are you okay, sleepy head?’ Debbie says from the back.

‘Sorry,’ Laura says sheepishly.

‘It’s fine. We thought it was best to let you doze.’

She twists round to look out of the back window. ‘Where are we?’

‘Putney,’ Ben says.

They’re here already. This is the place where the stranger took the photo the police believe to be Jim, so they decided it was a good place to start. Laura doesn’t like to admit it, but she really isn’t holding out much hope for this trip. London is a city of seven million people and she knows the chances of finding Jim among them are minuscule. She has agreed to it for two reasons – one because she knows Ben and Debbie are really trying to help and she doesn’t want to let them down. But two, because she wants the challenge. She’s made such progress over the last few weeks, and this feels like a good chance to show herself how well she is doing. Although right now she’s not so sure that is a good idea after all.

There’s something else tugging at her too, angling for attention like a bored child. A strange, anxious feeling, as though her stomach has tied itself into an impenetrable knot and is tightening with every step closer they take to finding Jim. Something she’s not even sure she’s admitted to herself until now.

Is she worried they won’t find Jim – or that they will?

* * *

It takes fifteen minutes to get out of the car park and onto the street, but now they’re here, Laura is determined. She stands in the shadow of a doorway at one end of Putney High Street and clutches her bag to her chest. She takes a deep breath in and reminds herself what they’re here to achieve, then breathes out and tries to forget what happened the last time she was on a London street, in the dark shadows of a night almost two years ago.

‘Okay, what’s the plan?’

‘Ben and I thought we should start by handing out these,’ Debbie says, and shoves a piece of paper into Laura’s hand. She squints at it in the stark late autumn sunlight. On it is the photo of Jim that Laura gave to the police, and below it in thick black capital letters are the words ‘Do you know this man?’ She looks up at Debbie questioningly.

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