—
Nothing links Mark to Norfolk. Good luck to the police trying to track the cabbie down who drove Mark all the way to Norfolk, especially when they don’t know he even took a cab anywhere. As far as they can ever find out, Mark got off his flight at Heathrow, cabbed home, and then took money from the cash machine and vanished. He never called me; he never saw me. His last text simply said he knew where I was and that he’d see me later and then he disappeared.
And while all this was happening I was in Norfolk. I have credit card receipts. Witnesses. The hotel receptionist can even vouch for my head wound, a slip in the bathroom. I am safe.
I back up all the files I want to keep from my laptoponto a hard drive. Eddie’s sending someone to wipe my computers and reinstall after lunch.
I cancel the impending payment from the Swiss account into my account. I’ll stay away from it until everything is done.
An hour and a half after the first call of the day, I call Mark again.
“Mark. Where are you? Call me, please. I’ve checked your flights and there weren’t any delays. Did you miss your flight, honey? Getting really worried, can you call me? I’m going to call the airline and check now.” I hang up. I call BA. They, of course, confirm he made the flight.
So where is Mark?
I call Mark’s parents. I have to hang up the first time around, when his mum answers, and run to the toilet to vomit bile into the bowl. The second time around I manage to hold it together.
“Hi, Susan. Yes, yes, it is. Hi, hi. Um, strange question, Susan, but have you heard from Mark?”
I explain the New York business trip and how he was definitely on the flight home but that he hasn’t turned up today. She sounds slightly concerned but assures me he’ll turn up. He’s probably lost his phone or he’s got a work thing on. That gives me an idea.
I call Hector. He’s been spending so much time with Mark that it seems appropriate to check in with him next.
Hector hasn’t heard from him either.
“So the last time you saw him was the weekend?” Iask.
Silence from the other end. And then Hector says something I wasn’t expecting at all.
“Erin, I haven’t seen Mark since your wedding.” He sounds bewildered. And for the first time since what happened in Norfolk, I feel genuinely surprised.
Where the fuck was Mark going all those days he said he was meeting Hector? Checking in with Patrick? Setting up his new life in New York?
“He hasn’t called you about work?” I ask.
“Um, no, no. Has he found something new?” he asks, cheered by the apparent change of subject. Perhaps he suspects Mark has been cheating on me and using him as an excuse. Who knows? But it’s clear Mark wasn’t setting up a business with him. Good. I can use that. I move on.
One last call.
“Mark. I don’t know if you’re listening to these but no one knows where you are. I just spoke to Hector and he says he hasn’t seen you since the wedding. He doesn’t know anything about a new business. What the fuck is going on? I need you to call me, please. I am freaking out here. Call me.” I hang up. The trail has been laid. My husband has run off.
—
Tomorrow morning I will call the police.
40
Monday, October 3
Empty
After the call I sit in silence, the empty house a shell around me. The police will be here in about an hour, they said. There is nothing for me to do but wait.
I miss him. It’s funny how the brain works, isn’t it? I miss him so much I ache.
It hurts and I don’t really understand it. I don’t understand what happened. I suppose you can never really know a person, can you?
When did it change? Did it change the day he lost his job? Or was it always like this?
