not imagine it!’
‘Of course you did. Your nerves are all shot to hell!’
Her eyes felt raw from lack of sleep. There was a tight band across her scalp. ‘I did not imagine it! I looked in the pedal bin and the hairs I took out were still there, in the tissue.’
She scraped the stinky cat food out of the can into Gregory’s bowl and put it on the floor. As usual, the cat glared at the bowl, and then at her, as if suspecting poison.
‘You must have missed them, love,’ Don said. ‘We were both tired!’ He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Then he nuzzled her ear. ‘Let’s go to bed, I’m feeling really horny.’
She pushed him away. ‘I did
‘Yeah,
‘Not with Victor in the freezer, no way!’
‘Come on, angel. We did this so we could be together.’
She looked at him. ‘I can’t. It wouldn’t be right. I don’t feel in the mood. Okay?’
They stared at each other in silence.
‘It’s all right for you, Don. You went home to your little wifey. I had to stay here alone with my husband in the bloody freezer.’
‘Yeah, right, so?’
‘So?’ she repeated, her anger rising.
‘I love you,’ he said.
‘I love you too. We – we just have to—’
‘To what?’
She shook her head. Tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘You have to help me, Don.’
‘We have to stay calm.’
‘I AM BLOODY CALM!’ she yelled.
He raised his big hands and stood there in front of her. A big tall guy, in his brown leather jacket over a white T-shirt, jeans and suede boots, he was all manly. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Okay!’
‘It’s not okay!’
‘So, we have to make it okay. Right?’ He held her in his arms again.
‘Right,’ she whispered. ‘The plan. We have to stick to the plan.’
‘We’ll stick to the plan,’ he said. ‘So you mustn’t get freaked out by two hairs you missed in your basin. Deal?’
‘Deal,’ she agreed glumly.
Half an hour later, Joan drove to Brighton Police Station. Victor’s purple Vauxhall Astra convertible had been an eBay bargain three years ago. She parked at a meter and went in through the front door. There was a second door marked
She joined the queue, and as she waited she read some of the notices on the walls. One was headed
Joan didn’t recognize any of them. She read another notice, warning about alcohol abuse, and another about drugs. Finally, she reached the front desk. A woman in her thirties, wearing a white shirt and a black tie, asked if she could help her.
Joan was glad the woman could not see her knees. They were trembling. ‘I want to report a missing person,’ she said.
‘All right,’ the woman said. ‘Can you give me some details?’
‘Victor … my husband. He didn’t come home last night. I’m worried because … he … this … he … this is very unusual … I mean … not unusual … I mean … he has never in his life not come home … in the evening … after work.’ Joan felt her face burning. She was stumbling over the words. She felt hot and confused. ‘He doesn’t … you know … I mean … he always does … come home … my husband.’
There was a brief silence. Suddenly, in this silence, all Joan could think about were the two hairs in the washbasin.
‘I see,’ the woman said. ‘And you are?’ She picked up a pen.
‘His wife,’ Joan said, dumbly, her voice trembling. She could feel sweat trickling down her neck.
‘Your name?’ the woman said patiently.
‘Yes, yes. I’m Joan. Mrs … er … Mrs Smiley.’
The woman wrote this down. ‘If you could step aside and wait for a moment, I’ll get an officer to come and take down some details.’
Joan stepped aside. The woman went over to the phone. One of her colleagues attended to the next person in the queue behind Joan. A young girl, who looked spaced out, reported she had lost her mobile phone.
