Still holding on to hope that Matt will call me, that there’s an innocent explanation, I put it off a little longer, turning my attention to the orders coming in, until by mid-morning, fear gets the better of me. Filled with trepidation, as I walk back to the house, I dial 999. Half expecting to be told to give it twenty-four hours, I’m surprised when the woman who takes my call efficiently records my details, before putting me through to a PC Page.
‘When did you last see your fiancé?’ From her voice, I know she’s taking me seriously. It’s what I’d dreaded most before I called – not being taken seriously.
‘Yesterday.’ Then I question myself, because it’s been a day in which so much has changed. But it’s the difference between the known and unknown that makes it feel more like a lifetime ago. ‘Yesterday morning. Just before he went to work.’
‘And you last heard from him when?’
‘He called me later that morning from his office, to say he was going to be late.’ Aware of my voice shaking, I pause. ‘It was a last minute change to his plans. He had a client over from the States. His boss had asked Matt to take him out to dinner.’
‘And that was usual?’
‘It doesn’t happen that often, but I suppose often enough that it didn’t seem strange.’ I’m gabbling, needing her to understand the feeling I have, deep in my bones, that something’s happened to Matt. ‘He sounded odd. I mean, he said something he wouldn’t normally say. It was as though he was irritated about something. Then he said he’d talk to me later. Just before he hung up, he said, take care, babe.’ I break off, knowing that to anyone who doesn’t know Matt, it sounds trivial. ‘I know it doesn’t sound like much. But it was out of character. It’s not the kind of thing he ever says.’
PC Page is quiet for a moment. ‘Do you know who the client was?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ For the first time, I’m berating myself that I never ask him, but Matt’s clients are people I never meet. He rarely tells me their names.
‘Did he give you any indication where he was going last night?’
‘He didn’t say.’ Suddenly I remember something. ‘His boss might know. David. It was David who wanted him to take the client out.’ I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this before. As I speak, my sense of urgency grows. ‘I’ll call him. He’s bound to know something.’
‘If you give me his details, we’ll speak to him. We need your fiancé’s contact details, too.’ She sounds in control, but her business-like manner does nothing to reassure me.
‘His name is David Avery. They work for a company called Orbital.’ I give her Matt’s mobile number and David’s work number. ‘Matt drove to work yesterday morning. He has a red Audi.’ Sharing the car’s registration, I wonder what else she needs to know.
‘Do you have a recent photograph you can email to us?’
‘Of course. Where shall I send it?’
‘I’ll give you an email address. Do you have a pen?’
After I write it down, she goes on. ‘If you hear anything from him or think of anything else that might be useful, could you let us know? We’ll start making enquiries straight away. Have you been in touch with any local surgeries and hospitals?’
Her words set off alarm bells. ‘I haven’t.’ Oh God. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might have been taken ill or involved in an accident.
‘It’s unlikely there’s been an accident, or we’d have heard about it …’ She hesitates for a moment. ‘Are there any family members nearby? Siblings – or close friends?’
‘No. His parents are in Scotland. He’s an only child.’
‘Have you spoken to them?’
‘I tried calling them, but the line was dead. Matt must have accidentally written down the wrong number.’
‘Do you have their address?’
Frowning, I try to think. ‘Only their email address. It’s how we sent out our wedding invitations.’ I pause, remembering querying Matt about whether his parents would prefer a printed invitation and his amusement when he told me about how his dad was more tech-savvy than even he was.
‘Perhaps you could email them? See when they last heard from him?’ She’s silent for a moment. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to ask this. It may sound far-fetched, but do you think there’s any possibility he’s keeping anything from you? Financial worries or anything like that?’
‘No.’ Indignant at what she’s suggesting, my face grows hot. ‘Matt wouldn’t get involved in anything irresponsible. We’re getting married in two weeks. We don’t keep secrets from each other.’
‘Of course.’ Her voice is crisp. ‘Well, we have what we need for now. Perhaps we can talk again later on.’
I clutch my phone tightly. ‘Do you think you’ll find him? I mean, what usually happens?’ Futile questions, impossible for her to answer, as I seek a reassurance that doesn’t exist.
‘In most cases, missing persons turn up; a day, sometimes a week later, sometimes longer than that.’ Her voice is matter of fact. ‘It’s early days, Ms Reid. There’s no point worrying too much. Not just yet.’
Her words do little to set my mind at rest. After ending the call, I sit there, my mind a million miles away as I consider every possible scenario. Then I imagine her thinking I’m naïve, that no-one ever thinks their partner would deceive them – until it happens.
Firing up my laptop, I open our wedding file, copying Matt’s parents’ email address, staring at the screen while I work out what to write.
I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, but I wondered when you last spoke to Matt? I haven’t been able to contact him for a couple of days. Actually, to be honest, I’m really worried …
Deleting the last line, I add something about how much I’m looking forward to meeting them at the wedding, then press send. While I
