The Vow - Debbie Howells Page 0,9
train. I can leave later – or first thing tomorrow …’
‘Please don’t, Jess. There’s nothing you can do – and you’re coming back in just over a week for our wedding, anyway.’
‘But if he doesn’t …’
Knowing what she’s about to say, about the wedding, I interrupt. ‘I’m taking each day at a time.’ I try to keep my voice level, because right now, I can’t think that far ahead. ‘It’s the only way.’ Though I want her here more than anything, she has to think of her coursework. And the moment she comes home, in my mind at least, everything escalates.
After forcing a promise from me to keep her updated, she reluctantly agrees to stay where she is – at least for now. But her unspoken words hang in the air. Less than a fortnight away, ever since we decided on a date, our wedding has filled my head. For a moment, I allow my mind to linger: on my beautiful dress, my vows, everyone important to me in one place. But instead of Matt beside me, I imagine an empty space, as I feel myself shiver. I never thought the day would come I’d have to think about cancelling it.
As I sit there, a knock on the door makes me jump. Getting up, I go to answer it, but when I see Cath’s face pressed against the glass, my heart sinks.
‘I brought lunch!’ As I open the door, she holds up a brown paper carrier bag from the farm shop she would have driven past on her way here. ‘This too.’ She holds up a bottle of champagne. ‘I thought we’d celebrate – your up and coming nuptials and my escape from Oliver. If you’re not too busy?’ She hesitates, frowning as she stares at me. ‘What’s going on?’
I shake my head. ‘Sorry, I’d completely forgotten you were coming. Can we do this some other time?’ It isn’t that I don’t want to see her, but today, I don’t have the capacity to listen to her problems or buoy her up. Until I find out where Matt is, there isn’t space in my mind for anything else.
‘What’s happened? Is Jess OK?’ Cath stands there. ‘Amy, you’re worrying me.’
I hesitate, in my state of denial not wanting to tell anyone, still hoping that at any minute Matt will turn up. But she’s one of my oldest friends. ‘You better come in.’
Closing the door behind us, she follows me through to the kitchen, where she pulls off her jacket then stands there, her eyes fixed on mine, as I perch on the edge of the sofa.
‘Matt’s gone missing.’ I say it quietly, reticent, because the more I talk about it, the more real it becomes; the more my fear grows. Not because I don’t care, as the police later suggested. Even with their specialist training, their expertise in psychological profiling, they couldn’t understand how I was so calm.
A look of incredulity on her face, Cath doesn’t miss a beat. ‘Since when?’ Her voice is sharp.
‘Last night.’ Feeling tears fill my eyes, I wipe them away. ‘He didn’t come home. I thought he was out late with a business client. I didn’t think any more of it, until this morning.’
A frown wrinkles her forehead. ‘He isn’t answering his phone?’
I shake my head. ‘I’ve been trying all day. I’ve called his office, too. Left messages, but no-one’s heard from him. Just now, I called the police.’
‘Jesus.’ White as a sheet, Cath sits down next to me. A hint of her scent reaches me. Citrus notes – and basil. ‘I mean, that’s so not like Matt.’
‘I know.’ I’ve never known her lost for words before. Then I tell her about the old woman and what she said to me.
A look of shock crosses her face. ‘You were right when you said it was weird. It’s too much of a coincidence, surely.’ Cath stares at me. ‘What happens now?’
‘So now, I wait for the police to get back to me. Unless he turns up – in which case I call them.’
‘Jesus, Amy.’ Cath sits there, then she gets up again. ‘There’s an explanation. There has to be. You’re getting married. You’re love’s dream, for fuck’s sake. Don’t I know better than anyone.’
Hearing the bitterness in her voice, I look up. I hadn’t realised she felt that way.
‘Don’t mind me.’ She shakes her head. ‘I’m cynical and twisted because of Oliver, but I’ll get over it.’
I stare at her, not knowing what to say. Then something