Part 2 (1/2)

He sighed and pushed the papers away. Visions of Leo sprawled on the floor, in pain, wouldn't leave his mind.

'b.u.g.g.e.r,' he said quietly as he grabbed his car keys from the desk. Max might have told him not to check up on Leo, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to focus until he was sure she was okay.

5.

The snow was getting thicker now and starting to drift in the wind. As Maggie looked out of the bedroom window she could see the thick flakes swirling in the amber glow of the streetlights lining the deserted cul-de-sac. The room behind her was in darkness. She felt as if she had been standing there for hours waiting, hoping, praying to see Duncan return in his pristine white van. It was only three hours since she had arrived home, but it felt like days.

She ached to hear his voice hear him tell her that he was on his way home and whatever had happened was a mistake; hear him say that he loved her. Had he left her? Really? Without a word of explanation? She racked her brain trying to think of a single reason why he would do that.

His phone still appeared to be dead, although she had called it every ten minutes, and she was trying hard not to let the children realise that something was wrong. Lily was oblivious to it all, but Josh knew that his daddy shouldn't have left him alone in the house to look after his young sister. He was a sensitive child, and Maggie knew he would be going over everything in his head. He had looked at her as if she held the answer, but she was no nearer to understanding what was happening than Josh.

Suzy had sent her a text asking for an update, and Maggie was ashamed of the fact that she had lied to her sister. Or avoided the truth. She had just put 'All ok now. Speak tomorrow.' She hadn't wanted to get involved in a long discussion. She didn't have any answers.

Maggie had been through Duncan's wardrobe to see what was missing, but she wasn't capable of working out if her husband taken enough for a night, for a week, or maybe for good. She stifled a sob at the thought.

A sharp gust of wind outside blew snow across the road and against the wall of the house. Whether Duncan was here or not, it seemed unlikely Maggie would be able to get the car out of the drive first thing in the morning, and for a moment she was relieved. The sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d she had been asked to defend would have to be pa.s.sed on to somebody else. She could stay at home with the children, and wait for her husband to return.

Where are you, Duncan? I miss you.

Maggie's limbs were tight with cold and lack of movement. She backed stiffly up to the bed, sitting down and wrapping the duvet round her shoulders. Her whole body started shaking, and she didn't know if it was fear or the frigid air of her bedroom that was causing it. She didn't want to leave her vigil at the window, though. She bit her bottom lip, trying to stop it from trembling. Crying wasn't going to help. She had to think.

The cupboard in the garage was niggling her. What had he needed to take out of that cupboard, and why? It wasn't his work tools. She knew that.

Ever since they moved in together, Duncan had kept the green cupboard locked. Initially Maggie had decided not to make an issue of it. He was ent.i.tled to his own s.p.a.ce, and if she was honest there were things in her past she would rather he knew nothing about such as her appalling choice of partner before Duncan. A married man with three children. She shuddered at the thought. She hadn't lied about that terrible period in her life, but she hadn't volunteered the information either.

After she and Duncan had been together for a while she had asked him for the key to the cupboard she was clearing away some clutter but he had refused to give it to her, saying he would do it himself. She hadn't pushed it. She had always thought the cupboard might contain something to do with his mother because he had nothing of hers around the house no photos or mementos and yet she knew how much Duncan's mother had meant to him. He had given up his studies at Leeds University to look after her when she was ill with cancer, and had nursed her while simultaneously training to be a plumber, a job he thought he might be able to combine with being her carer. Sadly she had died a couple of years before Maggie had met him.

Maggie heard a noise and turned her head.

Josh was standing at the door in his pyjamas.

'Are you okay, sweetheart?' she asked. Grasping the duvet in her hand, she held out her arm so that her son could snuggle in under it against her.

'Why are you sitting in the dark, Mum?'

'Just thinking.' She tried to smile at him.

'About Dad?'

Maggie didn't want to lie to her son. 'I'm wondering when he's going to be home, Josh. That's all. But don't worry. I'm sure he'll be back by the time you wake up in the morning.'

'Is it my fault?' Josh's voice was as quiet as a whisper, as if he was afraid to say the words. Maggie pulled him tightly against her.

'Of course not, sweetheart. Why on earth should it be your fault?'

'Because of the message.'

'What message? You never mentioned a message before.' Maggie could hear the desperation in her voice and tried hard to soften it. Josh looked up at her, his little face a picture of confusion.

'I'm sorry if I did something wrong, Mummy.'

'I'm sure you've done nothing wrong, Josh, but you need to tell me properly what you mean.'

'Dad's phone was in the sitting room. I heard it beep, so I knew it was a message. I took the phone to him in the kitchen.'

'Joshy,' Maggie began, trying to choose her words carefully, 'I know we've said it's rude to read other people's messages, but did you by any chance catch a glimpse of what it said?'

Josh looked at the floor for a moment, and when he looked up his cheeks were pink.

'I didn't read the words, Mummy. Honestly.'

Maggie knew there was a 'but' in there, and that she was going to have to wait for it. She smiled her encouragement.

'When Daddy opened it, I was standing right next to him. There was a picture. I only looked at it because I thought it was you.'

A picture? Of me? Josh couldn't mean that. He must have got it wrong.

'It's okay, sweetheart. I'm not cross with you. Tell me what you saw when you looked at the screen.' She relaxed her hold slightly, certain that Josh would be able to feel the thumping of her heart, and turned to look at him.

'A photo of a lady with red lipstick and long dark hair spread out like yours sometimes is on the pillow.'

It sounded as if the woman, whoever she was, had to have been lying down. Why would Duncan get a picture of a woman lying down a woman that looks like me? Is he having an affair? Has he left me for this woman? She felt a solid ball of despair settle deep inside her.

'I thought you'd sent a selfie to dad,' Josh said, 'but I kind of knew it wasn't you.'

'What made you change your mind?' she said, stroking his hair gently in an attempt to calm his anxiety.

'They weren't your eyes. The lady in the picture had eyes like that doll of Lily's the one Auntie Ceecee bought her.'

Maggie felt a chill. He didn't need to say any more. Her aunt had bought a Victorian doll for Lily when she was three a strange choice because Ceecee said the doll was too expensive to play with. So the doll, named Maud by Lily, had sat on a shelf in her bedroom, to be looked at but never touched. Then Lily had started to have nightmares.

'What were you dreaming about, baby?' Maggie had asked after she had brought a terrified Lily into bed with her and Duncan.

'It's Maud. She watches me.'

'What do you mean, Lil?' Duncan had asked. 'She's just a doll.'