But I knew she still had dark days. We all did. My coping mechanisms were a bottle of gin and a packet of fags.
So when Danny called late that night and said Jo hadn’t come home, my stomach dropped.
She’s lost it again, I thought.
We tried to talk her out of attending the trial, but she insisted. She was still in counselling, but work had become her anchor.
***
And now, here we are. Today is Jo’s memorial. I can hardly believe it. It doesn’t seem real. If I could be anywhere else, I would be.
The old stone church looms under a grey sky, its silence heavy with grief. Mourners huddle close, their black coats merging with the shadows of the building. Outside the gates, police are pushing back photographers. A familiar twist of panic tightens in my chest. I wrap my scarf over my face and hurry past them all.
Inside, the pews creak as people settle in, breath clouding in the cold air. The scent of polished wood and lilies greets me. Petals lie scattered across the altar. Danny has arranged everything. It’s beautiful; painfully so.
He hugs me tightly and leads me to my seat.
I find myself sitting just behind Julia and Donald. Julia’s quiet sobbing pulls something from deep within me. Donald turns briefly, his face drawn and grim. They’ve argued with Danny about this service. Jo was an atheist. They wanted a humanist ceremony, but Danny has pushed for this. I think, deep down, he wants a spectacle.
A giant photograph of Jo stands on the altar, framed by white roses. I glance at it once, then quickly look away. Nicola slips into the row in front. She’s already in tears.
The priest begins the service, his voice echoes through the cavernous space. It’s gentle, but laced with solemnity. Then Danny rises and walks to the pulpit to deliver his eulogy. His voice wavers, thin and cracked with sorrow.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, thank you for being here to share in our grief. As I stand here, I am filled with both sorrow and gratitude. Sorrow because Jo’s no longer with us. But I am grateful for the joy of loving her. I remember the day we met as if it were yesterday. Her smile drew me in. Her laugh was infectious. Her eyes sparkled with intelligenceand compassion. I knew from the start that she was the one. Our marriage was a tapestry of laughter, love and dreams. We weathered the storms together.’
He stops; the words seem to have caught in his throat. After a deep breath, he continues.
‘As I say goodbye to my beautiful wife, I find peace in knowing her spirit endures. In the memories we hold, the love we shared and the kindness she left behind. So today let’s celebrate her life, not with sorrow, but with smiles that honour her legacy. Jo, my love, rest well. You will live forever in Joel’s heart and mine. No evil can erase you.’
He looks up at the photograph, his voice barely a whisper.
‘I’ll always love you.’
It’s too much. I want to run. The weight of grief in the room is unbearable. Faces around me are wet with tears, fingers clutching damp tissues and creased orders of service. The whispers begin: ‘If only…’
Do they mean me?
If only I’d made her get in the car. If only the police had searched sooner. Regret drifts like mist around us, thick with unspoken guilt.
As people begin to file out, their footsteps softened by wet grass, I spot Alice, Joanna’s interior designer. She walks straight over. Alice and I have met a few times. We both supported Jo during her depression over Lila. I can see the anger on her face. I lied to her when Jo went missing. I had no choice.
‘Why didn’t you tell me she had gone missing? I asked you once if there was something odd going on,’ she says, her voice shaking. ‘You could have told me.’
‘I wanted to. You have no idea. But Danny was adamant.’
The tension leaves her shoulders. ‘Was it about that child who died? Lila?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admit.
But I’ve been thinking about it for days.Wasthis about Lila? And if it was, will they come for me next?
A chill runs through me.
Then, I see her: a woman in black, veil down, standing near the flowers. Something about her sets every nerve on edge.
‘See you at the house,’ Alice says softly.
I nod, but don’t move.
