Leslie’s voice was cracking, her eyes streaming and her nose running. She walked towards her seat and, once she’d accepted a tissue from Jim, she sat with her head in her hands, attempting to regain her composure but finding it almost impossible to do so. Her hair was jet-black, she was slim and, although not a natural beauty, she was striking. The people sitting in the pews behind her felt nothing but pity for a young woman who was merely waiting for her turn to die. Later, by the side of the grave, she watched Jim grieve and if there was something she could have said to make him feel better she would have said it, but there wasn’t so she stood in silence waiting for the day to end so that she could disappear behind her closed door and wait for
the inevitable. It never occurred to her that she’d be still waiting for the inevitable twelve years later.
Tom, 25 August 2007
Transcript of
Liveline
radio show with Joe Duffy
“I have a Tom Kavanagh on the line. Tom, are you there?”
“I am, Joe.”
“Tom, you’re trying to find your lovely wife Alexandra.”
“Yes, Joe.”
“She went missing on the twenty-first of June this year?”
“It was Thursday, the twenty-first of June.”
“Tell us about it, Tom.”
“I don’t know where to start. She was last seen in Dalkey and now she’s gone.”
“Okay, okay, all right. How about you tell us a little about her?”
“She’s funny, she’s giddy, she’s kind, she’s friendly, she’s fussy, she’s lovely, Joe.”
Caller becomes emotional
.
“The police have managed to retrace her steps as far as Dalkey. Can you tell us about that?”
“She left the house in Clontarf around two p.m. She said hello to a neighbour who verified the time. She walked to the station, and three teenagers who were there came forward to say that they witnessed her getting on the train. She’s also captured on CCTV footage on the platform at Tara Street at three thirty but she got back on the train. After the stations were canvassed, a woman came forward and identified her as getting off the train in Dalkey. She was captured on CCTV footage again there but after that …”
Caller becomes emotional
.
“And after that?”
“She was gone. She’s just gone.”
“Ah, God, that’s desperate. What time was that?”
“It was approximately four p.m.”
“And where were you?”
“I was working. We were finishing a project in Blackrock.”
“It says here you’re a builder.”
“I am.”
“So when did you realize she was missing?”
“I was supposed to be home by four. I’d promised to make dinner because Alexandra was meeting her friend Sherri to collect tickets for a gig from her. She had left a note saying she’d be home by seven thirty. But I was delayed on site. I didn’t get in until nine p.m.”
“When did you raise the alarm, Tom?”
“The next morning, Joe.”
Caller becomes emotional
. “I thought she’d stayed out with Sherri or maybe that she was pissed off I didn’t get home in time to make the dinner so went out again. I was exhausted so I fell asleep.”
“That’s understandable. What age is Alexandra?”
“She’s thirty-five. She has chestnut-brown hair, shoulder length. She was wearing black trousers and a black blouse with a bow on it. She had a black fitted jacket on. She’s very attractive, the kind of person you’d remember if you’d seen her.”
Caller becomes emotional
.
“And she went missing on …”
“Thursday, the twenty-first of June this year.”
“And did she have any mental issues, Tom?”
“No, Joe. She was a very happy, well-adjusted, normal woman. She was normal, Joe, ordinary.”
“Okay, okay.” Joe sighs. “I’m going to ask the obvious, Tom, so forgive me. Is there any chance she took herself into the water?”
“No. No. She wasn’t suicidal and the coast guard searched it and the police divers and there were plenty of people on the beach that day and no one saw her.”
“Okay, I had to ask. I’m sorry for your trouble, Tom. I hope that maybe someone listening remembers something.”
“And, Joe?”
“Yes, Tom?”
“I’ll be at Dalkey train station handing out flyers later this evening and I’ll be doing the same at a Jack Lukeman gig on Dame Street next Friday.”
“Why there, Tom?”
“She was a big fan, Joe. She never missed a show.”
Caller becomes emotional
.
“And he’s very popular. Lots of people from all counties will be there.”
“It’s as good a place as any to get the word out, Joe.”
“God love you, Tom. I sympathize. Good luck to you. We’ll put Alexandra’s details on the website and if you could send in a photo we’ll post it.”
“I will, and thanks for taking the call.”
“And if anyone has information on Alexandra Kavanagh, who went missing on the twenty-first of June 2007, would they contact Clontarf Garda Station and the inspector in charge of the investigation is Des Martin. Right, we’ll be back after these ads.”
Tom put down the phone and turned to Breda, his mother-in-law. She was sitting at the kitchen table, looking frail and small. She smiled at him through tears. “You did very well, love,” she said.
“You should have left this phone number,” Eamonn said,
while pacing. Eamonn was Alexandra’s older brother; he and Tom had never really been close. Alexandra’s disappearance had served to widen the divide between them. “And you should have said that she was upset about not getting pregnant.”
“Nothing to do with anything,” Tom said. “She was fine, happy.”
“You just didn’t want to see it!” Eamonn shouted. “It was tearing her apart and you didn’t see it!”
“Take that back, Eamonn,” Tom said, walking towards him.
“Take a swing, I dare you,” Eamonn said, and braced himself as if for a fight.
Breda called out to the two young men: “Stop it, both of you!”
Alexandra’s father stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in outside on the patio. He put his cigarette out and came inside. “Go home now,” he said to Eamonn and Tom. “Go home before you both say and do things you’ll regret.”
Eamonn and Tom nodded and apologized. Breda was crying again. She looked at Tom, who had aged ten years in ten weeks. His black hair was almost entirely grey; his once-sparkly blue eyes were tired and circled by shadows. He had been so pernickety about the way he looked that Alexandra’s family, especially Eamonn, had often joked about her marrying a metro-sexual. His suits were always the best of suits, dry-cleaned after one wear and precisely tailored. His hair was perfectly cut, and his face perfectly clean. Off site Tom didn’t look like a builder, he looked like a banker. He was wealthy, and although he wasn’t extravagant, he left those around him in no doubt about his standing.
Breda noticed his suit was now too big, his hair a mess, and he hadn’t shaved in weeks. He was a shadow of the man he used to be, as she was a shadow of the woman and mother she once was. She recognized his suffering because it mirrored her own and she wanted her son, whose anger was more intense than his pain, to stop hurting her already mortally wounded son-in-law. She promised herself she would talk to Eamonn when she found the strength to deal with his quarrelsome nature.
When Tom was leaving Breda hugged him and he could feel every bone in her back. She whispered into his ear, “She’s still with us – I can feel it. God will take care of her. She’s not alone because God is there beside her.”
Tom nodded. “Try and eat, Breda.”
He left and got into his car. He sat for a minute or two and was still there when Eamonn came out of the house. Eamonn walked over to the car window and knocked on it. Tom rolled it down.
“I don’t care what the police say,” Eamonn said. “I don’t care what my mother says. It’s your fault. I blame you.” He turned and walked to his own car, got in and drove away, leaving Tom sitting in Alexandra’s parents’ driveway, crying like a baby.
Oh, God, please, please, where is she? Bring her home to me, please, please, bring her home! I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. Forgive me and bring her home
.
Alexandra was then missing nine weeks and two days.
Chapter 2
Fear Is The Key
All the shapes in the dark are playing with your heart
,
fear is always near
.
It’ll never set you free, it’ll never let you be
,
once you let it in all the fun begins
,
’cos fear is all you’ll breathe
.
Jack L and the Black Romantics,
Wax
October 2007
The night was damp and overcast. Jane had thought twice about whether or not she actually wanted to go out. It had been a long and tiring day but she had promised her younger sister, Elle, and Elle did not handle disappointment well. The gig was due to start at nine. It was just after ten. They had missed the supporting act and Jack Lukeman would be already on stage. The venue didn’t have a car park and, because of a lack of inner-city knowledge and a pathological fear of driving the wrong way up one-way streets, Jane parked miles away. As they were so late they were forced to run from the car park to the venue, and just as they turned the first corner the rain came tumbling down. Neither sister had an umbrella. Elle had a hood but as she ran it insisted on falling off her head. She held it tight around her face and continued to run, with Jane doing her
best to keep up in heels and praying she wouldn’t break an ankle.
At the door they fumbled for their tickets, but once they had presented them to a doorman with the build of a silverback gorilla and the manner of a brick, he waved them through. “Move,” he said.
“Charming,” said Elle, and Jane widened her eyes and tightened her mouth, which signalled to her sister to shut up.
They passed a dishevelled man who was considerably drier than they were. He was standing behind the box office, between the lifts and the stairs. He handed them each a flyer with a picture of a woman on it. “If you see her there’s a number you can contact me at,” he said.
Neither of them looked at the flyer because they could hear Jack singing “Don’t Fall In Love”. Elle spotted the lift. “We’re in the gods, let’s get the lift.”
“I hate the lift.”
“We’re missing the show.” Elle pouted.
Jane sighed and Elle pressed the button for the lift just as the silverback charmer looked at his watch and started to close the main doors. A woman in a full-length plastic see-through raincoat that was pulled tight around her face and knotted with a toggle at her chin pushed her ticket against the window and her foot in the door. The man considered whether to let her in or to attempt to amputate her foot for a second or two before he opened it, took her ticket and allowed her to enter.
Elle smiled as she saw the walking condom approach her.
Well, that’s one way of keeping dry
. The human condom ignored the flyer man’s attempt to hand her one and stood behind Jane, who was preparing to entomb herself in a
small space.
Don’t freak out. It’ll be all over in seconds
. The silverback bolted the front door. The man packed away his remaining flyers into a briefcase and stood behind
Elle waiting for the lift. The red light appeared over the doors and they heard a dinging sound. Elle was first in, followed by the human condom and the flyer man.
Jane was frozen but only for a second. When she realized that her sister and the two strange strangers were staring at her she made her legs move towards them to avoid embarrassment. The doors closed and Jane breathed in and out slowly and surely.
Ten seconds and it’ll be over. Count back to one. Ten … nine
…
Elle could hear Jack singing clearly: “‘Don’t fall in love with the girls around here, you give them your heart they soon disappear.’” She sang along quietly: “‘They come from country towns and live on Crescent Street and all that they share are the secrets they keep.’”
Jane counted in her head:
… five … four
…
Elle became slightly louder as the song reached its conclusion: “La, la, la, la, la, la, la!”
The human condom and the flyer man stared forward, ignoring the tone-deaf girl who was compromising their enjoyment of the song by obscuring Jack L with her off-key wailing.
Jane continued to breathe and count:
… three … two
…