I Am Watching You(68)

‘Global warming – yeah, right.’ Henry is packing some more of his clothes into another suitcase, the TV on quietly in the corner of the bedroom. Every time he returns to the house for more belongings, he drags things out as long as possible, hoping that Barbara’s resolve will weaken. That she will make tea. Talk to him. Let him stay. But no. Her voice is now shouting up the stairs. She would like him to hurry up, please. To get his things before Jenny gets home. Their older daughter is out with Tim and Paul, apparently. Barbara says the boys have been her rock since things spiralled so terribly.

And now we are all back in the most appalling limbo, Henry thinks as he zips his case. Anna is still gone. The news obsessed with the wretched weather. And I am in exile.

Back downstairs, he tries one more time.

‘Can’t we at least talk, Barbara? Try again? For Jenny?’

‘Try? You have the nerve to ask me to try? After you practically blow your head off in the barn, and then I find out you have been putting it about on our very doorstep. Off with some local whore while our daughter . . .’

Henry still has no idea how Barbara has found out about his fling. She doesn’t know who yet, thank God, but she’s put the pieces together somehow. He suspects Cathy has deliberately let it slip, though she firmly denies this. Since the Spain debacle, their family liaison officer is no longer with them as much. Just checks in daily for a coffee and a chat. Probably embarrassed about the complete pig’s ear the police have made of the whole inquiry.

The Spain ‘siege’ turned out to be no such thing. They learned that the blonde in the flat with Karl was his new girlfriend. The two of them staged the whole hostage thing to try to negotiate for a getaway car. Made it up as they went along when the police first turned up to arrest Karl after the tip-off.

All the Ballards have been told since is that Karl seems to have an alibi for the night Anna went missing. Antony has turned up on the same building site in Spain, too. Both now in custody. Both denying any involvement whatsoever in Anna’s disappearance. Their story is that they lost interest in the two girls within the first hour at the club, and have no idea what happened to them. The lads say they went to a party with friends after the club in Vauxhall, which was always their plan. This new information has been cross-checked with witnesses and CCTV, and so far all the images and statements seem to confirm this story. To date, the Met team have not been able to find any gaps in the timeline that would suggest any involvement in Anna’s disappearance.

The two men say they only did a runner early the next morning for fear of being blamed or framed. They believed they would go straight back inside. So mates provided false passports and a boat crossing to France. Forensic teams have checked the flat where the party was held. New alibis are still being grilled. But so far – zilch. Karl’s girlfriend, the so-called hostage, is an English waitress he met in a bar six months back.

The Ballards have been assured Karl and Antony will almost certainly be heading back to jail for jumping parole and for Karl’s fake siege. But as far as Anna is concerned? The police seem slowly to be dismissing the two men as suspects. And they have no other leads. The DI is back in London, apparently distracted yet again by his serial killer case.

So, what the hell now? Henry keeps asking.

We are continuing enquiries. The case is very much still live . . .

In this heat, Henry is slowly facing his greatest fear. That they will never find their daughter; never find out what happened. To imagine this as his future – all their futures – is unbearable. He sees it in Jenny’s eyes, too. And his wife’s.

In this terrible limbo, Barbara has finally given in to antidepressants but seems to be suffering severe mood swings as a result. According to Jenny, the problem is that she refuses to take them every day, and the inconsistency in the dose is playing havoc with her system. Henry never knows how he will find her: dull and quiet, with all the light gone out of her eyes; or manic, cleaning the house over and over and shouting at him whenever he tries to reason with her.

‘You should see the doctor again, Barbara.’

‘It’s no longer any of your business what I do, Henry.’

He feels this punch inside. Not just guilt, he finds, but a deep and all-pervading sadness.

‘I still love you, Barbara.’ As he says this, he realises much too late that it is true, and he wishes he could turn back the clock to dilute his irritation, his dissatisfaction with this life – farmer turned campsite manager.

‘Well, lucky old me, eh?’

‘I’m not giving up on this family, Barbara. We have to think about Jenny.’

‘What family, Henry?’ She spits this out at him. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, we don’t have a family anymore. Anna is gone, and I don’t know that we are ever going to get her back. And Tim and Paul are thinking more about Jenny’s needs than you ever did.’

‘That’s not fair.’

‘Fair? I’ll tell you what’s not fair – that you don’t even have the guts or the decency to tell me who you were with when our daughter went missing.’

Sammy is standing by Henry’s side, and he can feel the tension in the dog’s posture. Tail down. Eyes down.

‘Oh, just get lost, will you, Henry. And take your dog with you.’

‘I’ll be in touch.’

‘Can’t wait.’