Page 62 of The Wife
This woodchip wallpaper is an absolute nightmare to strip. If I’d known what a hideous job it was going to be, I might have taken Toby up on his offer to do it on his day off. But he works so hard and most of his spare time is taken up with running for town council. So I’m happy to make a start on decorating the baby’s room. Annoyingly, instead of loosening the wallpaper, this handheld steamer is reducing the woodchip to a gloopy, porridgy mess that has to be painstakingly peeled from the walls with a palette knife. I’m hot and tired and bored, so when my phone rings, I welcome the distraction.
The number isn’t one I recognise, but right now I’ll take a cold call over woodchip removal, hands down. I turn off the steamer, wipe my hands on my dungarees and snatch up my mobile before it goes to voicemail.
‘Hello?’
‘Hello, is that Zoe Johnson?’
‘Yes, speaking.’
‘Hi, this is Police Constable Alfie Graham. We spoke a couple of months ago about your sister, Dina Williams.’
‘Oh, yeah, hi.’ I remember talking to him at the station. Celia and I joked afterwards about how he didn’t look old enough to be a police officer, with his smooth skin, pale blond hair, and wide-eyed concern. Despite his looks, he seemed capable enough.
‘We’ve got some follow-up news for you. Is it okay if we call round?’
‘To my house?’
‘Yes, if that’s okay? Or you can come to the station if you prefer.’
‘No, that’s fine. You can come here. Have you got the address?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you find Dina? Is she okay?’
‘There’s nothing to worry about. We’re just up the road from you, so we’ll be with you in a couple of minutes.’
‘Okay, see you soon.’
I rush to our bedroom to inspect my appearance in the mirror, noting my bright-red face, greasy hair tied in an unflattering ponytail, and my woodchip-splattered dungarees. Oh well, I don’t know why I’m even bothered. I think I’m just focusing on my appearance to stop myself worrying about what the police might have discovered. I almost wish I hadn’t gone to report Dina’s disappearance in the first place, because right now my heart is beating uncomfortably loud and my belly is swirling with anxiety at the thought of what news they might be bringing.
The doorbell rings, startling me out of my worry for a moment. PC Graham must have been almost outside the house when he called. I hurry down the stairs and open the front door to the same two uniformed officers I spoke to last time.
‘Police Sergeant Sarah McCormack,’ the officer says, holding out a hand to shake mine. ‘Nice to see you again.’
I usher her and PC Graham through the hall and into the small front lounge. Thankfully, it isn’t too messy. Just a few empty mugs. The curtains are still closed though, so I pull them apart, letting in a hazy cloud of afternoon sunshine. ‘Please, sit down.’
They sit next to one another on the edge of the sofa while I perch on the arm of the other sofa, my hands instinctively settling on my bump.
‘You’re expecting?’ Sergeant McCormack asks.
‘I’m due in July.’
‘Congratulations. My two are almost grown-up now.’
‘Thank you… You said you had news about my sister.’
‘Yes,’ she removes her hat and smooths back a strand of loose ash-blonde hair that’s escaped from her bun. ‘Two pieces of news, actually, that both came back this week from the Missing Persons Unit.’
I chew my lip and wait for her to continue.
‘So, first, I can confirm that Dina Williams returned to the UK from Thailand on the fifteenth of August last year.’
‘August?’ I know that Matt from the hostel said he thought she’d come back to the UK last year, but I wasn’t convinced he was right. Because why wouldn’t she have called me? She would have at least got in contact with Dad. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. It was Dina’s passport.’
Something occurs to me. ‘Could she have flown out of the UK sometime after that?’
