the freelance life began to suit me so well that I’d never regretted my decision. And OK, so writing about lipstick and wallpaper wasn’t quite the same as interviewing the Home Secretary or covering a murder trial, but I’d been there and done that, and I realized that I needed this quieter life, one where I could sleep and breathe and live instead of being chained to a news desk, on call twenty-four hours a day, always on alert for the next big story.
It had been when Albert had come into my life too. Before, my hours had been too long and unsociable to even think about dating, never mind consider having a pet. But suddenly, anything was possible, and getting a dog seemed to be the perfect way to celebrate my new lifestyle: a companion at home, lying at my feet as I wrote, and an excuse to get outside daily and walk in the fresh air. Albert had brought me so much joy, and fortunately when Danny had arrived on the scene, he’d instantly fallen in love with my gorgeous, clever puppy too.
‘Gemma, he’s feckin’ perfect,’ he’d said, crouching down to get a better look. Albert had promptly rolled over for a tummy rub, and Danny had laughed and obliged.
‘We always had dogs growing up in Ireland, but since I moved to London I haven’t been able to, you know, with work and everything. Can we take him for a walk, now? He can come to the pub with us!’
His enthusiasm had sent a ripple of happiness through me, and the attraction I was already feeling towards Danny had doubled, instantly. Eighteen months later, I’d never been happier. Well, never been happier until Friday of course. Danny’s face floated into my head again and my throat tightened. Trying to write had kept me from obsessing for an hour or so, but now the fear was returning. It was Monday morning. Day four without a word, my repeated emails unanswered, attempts to Skype him failing, his status still showing as offline.
Where are you, Danny? For God’s sake, this isn’t funny anymore!
I’d thought hard about when to tell my and Danny’s families what was going on, and had decided to leave it just a few more days, a week maybe. Surely he’d be back by then anyway, I reasoned, and I’d have freaked everyone out for no reason at all. Trying to deal with the freaking out I was doing myself was quite enough. Purely for something to do, I flicked the kettle on for what must have been my fifth cup of coffee of the morning and, realizing that, although I’d fed Albert, who was snoozing in his bed, I hadn’t eaten anything myself since the previous day, since before my visit to the police station, pushed a slice of bread into the toaster. I needed to dig out another photo of Danny, I remembered – they’d asked me for one of him on his own, a recent one if possible. They’d been nice, those two police officers, the woman – DCI Dickens, was that her name? – petite but formidable at the same time, her body lean and taut, hair tightly cropped into a blonde pixie cut and those intense, dark blue eyes. And her sidekick, her deputy, DS Clarke, a little quieter and gentler, tall and solid, good-looking with his neatly trimmed facial hair, white even teeth, smooth dark skin. A right handsome pair. Are they romantically involved? I wondered idly, then pushed the ridiculous thought aside. They were police detectives, in Bristol and not in some TV cop drama. They were probably so busy they barely had time to pee, never mind have illicit workplace affairs.
I took my coffee and toast into the sitting room and sank onto the sofa. It was a lovely room – big and bright and high-ceilinged, with a huge working fireplace, cushioned window seats and a polished, dark wood floor. We’d bought a new sofa in yellow velvet and, after checking that the owners wouldn’t mind us doing a little decorating, had found a delicate, trellis-patterned wallpaper in the softest dove grey to cover two of the walls. I’d put it up myself in an afternoon, and I loved it. The place was in immaculate condition but if we were going to live in it for a year or more, we wanted to put our own stamp on it.
‘It’s a parterre pattern,’ I’d explained to Danny, when the wallpaper sample had