That was a big fib, of course. He’d come home blind drunk, telling her he’d just told his boss where to stick his job!
‘Are you worried that he might have killed himself, Mrs Smiley?’
‘Yes.’
As she drove away from the police station, Joan was pleased with herself. She thought she had come across rather well as the desperate, sad wife of a missing person.
PCSO Juliet Watts had a different opinion. ‘Not happy about this person,’ she wrote in her report.
Chapter Twelve
Yes, Joan thought, she did feel pleased with herself. She decided she had handled herself well. She had given a great performance. PCSO Watts had believed her. That was important. It was also important that the officer said she was marking Victor down as
Success!
She could not wait to tell Don.
She had to act normally first, so she did her afternoon shift, as usual, at the supermarket. But her mind was not on it and she kept making mistakes. Then at six o’clock, on the dot, she left and drove home. Not having to wait for the bus was a luxury in itself.
When she turned into her road, the sight of a white van in her driveway sent a bolt of fear through her. The van was backed right up against the garage door.
Joan parked in the street, hurried to the door and let herself in. Don was standing in the hall, in grimy jeans and a filthy T-shirt. Sweat was pouring off him. He was so covered in grey dust he looked like a ghost. ‘How did it go?’ he asked.
‘What’s the van? Whose is it?’ she blurted anxiously.
‘Calm down, love. Don’t I get a kiss?’
Ignoring him, she repeated anxiously, ‘Whose van is it?’ As she asked she was looking at the hall table, to see if Victor’s mobile phone was there.
‘Relax! I borrowed the van from a mate. I’ll show you what I used it for in a moment. So?’
‘So?’
‘So, how did it go at the cop shop?’
‘It was a breeze!’
‘See, you’re a star!’ He hugged her and tried to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her face, so he kissed her cheek instead. Then she pulled away from him.
‘You’re all sweaty,’ she said.
‘I’ve been working, while you’ve been acting the star!’
She did not feel like a star. She felt in need of a drink. She wanted a glass of wine. After that, she thought she would want another, and another.
Then she would probably want one more.
‘I need to phone Victor,’ she said.
‘You’d get a shock if he answered!’
‘That’s not funny. The police officer asked if I’d phoned him. We should have thought of the phone. That was stupid. Why didn’t you think of it?’
He shrugged and shook his head. ‘Dunno. Slipped my mind.’
‘Great,’ she said bitterly. ‘What else didn’t we think of? You had it all under control, you told me. You had it all planned. The perfect murder!’
‘I did,’ he nodded. ‘That was before we knew about the sugar, and before you hit him.’
‘You should have found out about the sugar sooner,’ she said.
‘Yeah, well, now we have to deal with things as they are. Don’t worry, I have it all worked out.’
She took her mobile phone from her bag and dialled Victor’s number. His Nokia, on the hall table, rang six times then stopped. She listened, and moments later she heard his voice message.
It was strange hearing his voice. It made her feel all tingly, in a bad way. Feeling very self-conscious, Joan said, ‘Hello, Victor dear. Where are you? Please call me. I am so worried about you, and I’m missing you. Love you!’
‘Liar!’ Don said when she hung up. ‘You don’t love him!’
Her face was burning, as if it was on fire. ‘You can’t lie to a dead person, can you?’
‘We need to hide his phone,’ Don said. ‘Remind me to take it later and ditch it somewhere. You shouldn’t have left that message. That was stupid. That was really stupid.’
‘It would have been even more stupid not to.’
‘It was stupid,’ he repeated. ‘You’re panicking. We mustn’t panic.’
‘I need a drink,’ she said.
