Read The Missing Husband Online

Authors: Amanda Brooke

The Missing Husband

Copyright

Published by HarperCollins
Publishers
Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published by HarperCollins
Publishers
2015

Copyright © Amanda Valentine

Cover layout design © HarperCollins
Publishers
Ltd 2015

Cover photograph © Susanne Kronholm/Etsa/Plainpicture

Amanda Valentine asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007511365

Ebook Edition © July 2015 ISBN: 9780007511372

Version: 2015-04-17

Dedication

To my mum, Mary Hayes

‘Gone – flitted away,
Taken the stars from the night and the sun from the day!
Gone, and a cloud in my heart’
—Alfred Tennyson

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Acknowledgments

An interview with Amanda Brooke

Reading Group Questions

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Amanda Brooke

About the Publisher

1

It wasn’t the bright flash of light or the soft hum of the extractor fan that raised Jo Taylor from her slumber but the darkness that returned to the bedroom after David slipped into the en suite and closed the door behind him. Keeping her eyes firmly closed, Jo listened to the shower lurch into life. The gentle drizzle of water was replaced a moment later by a thunderous downpour as her husband stepped beneath it. He began to hum softly but then stopped himself, continuing the rest of his ablutions in silence.

Jo wriggled her fingers and toes but resisted the urge to stretch her stiffened limbs. She didn’t want to alter her position and let David know she was awake. Carefully, she lifted her head an inch off the pillow and checked the alarm clock. It wasn’t yet five. Through the gloom she could see light and steam leaching out from beneath the bathroom door. A shadow flickered as the shower switched off, making her start, and she dropped her head back down. As she listened to him brushing his teeth, she snuck her hand up to her face and raked her fingers through her fringe until it fell perfectly straight across her brow. If she was going to pretend to be asleep, she wanted to look good, angelic even. She settled back into her pose and didn’t move again.

She could still hear water falling, but this time it was the sound of rain ricocheting off the window in a vicious spray of bullets. Jo squeezed her eyes shut and savoured the warm hug of her duvet. Unlike David, she wasn’t prepared to go out into gale force winds at such an ungodly hour – but he already knew that.

Yes, she felt guilty, of course she did. David’s fifteen-minute walk to catch a train at West Allerton station on this cold and miserable October morning wasn’t going to be a pleasant one, especially when it was only the first leg of a long and tedious journey from Liverpool to Leeds for an equally long and tedious day’s training, after which he would face the same epic journey home again. She had made the trip herself and didn’t envy him. But when he had asked her for a lift to the city centre so he could catch the Leeds train direct from Lime Street Station she had refused. She wasn’t going to change her mind and she didn’t really need to feign sleep; it was just easier that way.

Remnants of their argument trickled into her thoughts and she tensed her statue-still body. It hadn’t been a blazing row but rather a slow burning battle of wills. That was how their marriage worked, and for the most part, it worked well. They both had strong opinions and Jo didn’t like backing down or admitting it when she did, but David was exactly the same. It was a game they usually enjoyed, but not this time. This was one that had been rumbling on since Jo’s thirtieth birthday over eighteen months ago, although the latest argument had begun only the night before when she and David had arrived home. He had pulled into the drive and switched off the engine before leaning in to nuzzle her neck. Remembering the warm touch of his lips, Jo’s skin tingled now as it had then.

‘What are you after?’ she had asked.

David cupped her face in his hand and guided her lips towards his. He kissed her before replying. ‘Who said I was after anything? I was simply overpowered by a desire to kiss my wife.’

He let his thumb trail across her mouth. She bit it. ‘No, David. What are you after?’

The beginnings of a smile made David’s face twitch. He wasn’t expecting her to resist when he asked for a lift to the station, or as he put it, ‘one tiny favour’.

Before answering, Jo took his hand from her face, kissed his palm and then pushed it away. She was trying not to let her disappointment sour the mood. The way she was feeling lately, she had wanted him to look after her, not work her. ‘There’s nothing to stop you taking a taxi,’ she said, her clenched jaw pinching her words.

‘But you could drive to Lime Street and back in thirty minutes,’ he had said, trying to coax her. ‘You wouldn’t even have to get dressed.’

‘Or I could stay in bed and get some much needed beauty sleep.’

‘You couldn’t
get
any more beautiful.’

Jo refused the bait. ‘If it’s the cost you’re worried about then I’ll pay for the taxi myself.’

‘It’s not the cost. I just thought it would be nice to snatch a few extra minutes with my
beautiful
wife rather than some grizzly old taxi driver.’

‘I can assure you I would be just as grizzly at five o’clock in the morning.’ Jo shifted in her seat and tried to pull her coat around her but it didn’t quite reach across her expanding girth. She was trying to make a point but it was far too subtle and completely lost on her husband.

‘You mean even more grizzly than you are at five o’clock at night?’ he asked looking at his watch to make the point.

‘It’s six o’clock, David and the answer is still no.’

The little spat could have ended there and would have if David hadn’t made the mistake of stepping on to dangerous territory. ‘It’s not like I’m off for a weekend with the boys,’ he said. ‘I’m going on this training course so I can provide a secure future for my
family
. I thought that was what you wanted, Jo.’

She narrowed her eyes as she analysed each and every word. ‘Ah, yes, of course; this is all about what
I
want.’

‘You, me, us – it’s the same thing, isn’t it?’ he demanded, his words choking the breath out of him.

‘Is it?’ she asked, wanting his reassurance, but her plea sounded more like a challenge and that was exactly how David reacted to it.

‘You tell me, Jo. Isn’t that how you justified it to yourself when you took all those life-changing decisions on
our
behalf?’

The question had hung in the air and the argument had stalled, leaving an uneasy silence between them that had stretched towards the dawn of the new day.

Beyond her closed lids light flooded the room, followed quickly by a cloud of warm, soap-scented steam. The light dimmed as David closed the door, leaving just enough illumination to pick out a shirt and suit from the wardrobe. Jo listened to him dressing but it was only when he slid his tie beneath the collar of his shirt that she felt his eyes on her. She hadn’t moved and had kept her breathing slow and steady, unlike the stampede of emotions rushing through her mind. Guilt was edging to the front.

Jo didn’t want to let the argument drag on. She wanted David’s arms around her so she could feel loved and protected, now more than ever. He was the love of her life and even though she sometimes wondered why on earth he put up with her, she knew he loved her too.

They had met ten years ago when Jo had been taken on as a graduate at Nelson’s Engineering, a large-scale construction company where David was working as a trainee project manager. Jo outwardly cringed whenever he told people how Nelson’s had
cemented
their relationship, but the pun was delivered with a twinkle in his eye and, as always, she could forgive him anything. And she was the first to admit that Nelson’s had given them a good foundation for their life together. They both had flourishing careers in the company, Jo in human resources, David in project management and they had progressed up the career ladder in perfect symmetry, one spurring on the other to face the next challenge. At thirty-one Jo was now a HR Manager and David a Project Team Leader. The seminar he was attending in Leeds was part of the next goal he had set himself with Jo’s encouragement: he was training to be the trainer.

But in the last couple of years their seemingly perfectly parallel lives had started to diverge. Jo had an absolute conviction that they still wanted the same things; it was just the timing that had gone awry. Aware that petulant silences would do nothing to help them get back on track, Jo’s pulse quickened and her muscles tightened as she willed herself to move – but she was too stubborn to give in.

Jo kept her eyes closed as the weak gloom from the en suite was snuffed out with the flick of a switch. She heard David’s socked footfalls reach the bedroom door. He was leaving and she was consumed by an irrational sense of panic: she didn’t want him to go.

David paused at the door as if he had heard the silent plea that had sliced through the shadows deepening between them. He crept towards the bed and, without saying a word, leant over and kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently sweeping across her fringe.

‘Bye, Jo,’ he whispered and then, before straightening up, he placed a hand on the duvet over the unseen swell of her stomach and the baby she was carrying. ‘Goodbye, little FB.’

She willed herself to peel back her eyelids and look at the man who was her soul mate, the man she loved with all her heart and for a fraction of a second she thought she might. But she kept her eyes closed, her breathing steady and when at last she allowed herself to speak, David was long gone.

‘I love you,’ she whispered, the words falling into the empty room.

2

By the time Jo was ready to leave for work, the sun had begun its sluggish ascent and grey light bled through the stained glass panels of the front door leaving multicoloured trails across the timbered floor. The only item of furniture in the hallway was a shabby chic dresser and Jo checked her reflection in its large oval mirror. She pulled her ponytail tight at the base of her skull and smoothed the poker-straight fringe that cut a sharp line just above her eyebrows. Her glossy auburn hair shone despite the dim light which was making the rest of her features look distinctly ghoulish and she had to resist the urge to switch the hallway light back on to chase away the shadows.

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