Chapter 16
When we enter the house, Otis goes straight to the kitchen and pours himself a whisky.
He offers one to me and Gabby, but we both decline.
We watch Otis down his drink, check the time, then excuse himself to go to the bathroom.
His watery eyes tell me that’s more to compose himself than for a bathroom break.
As soon as Gabby and I are alone, she turns to me. ‘Why are you really here?’
The question is so direct, I can’t help but flinch. ‘I want to find Alexa and make sure she’s okay.’
‘But why? You don’t know her. You don’t know Otis.’
‘Can’t someone want to do a good thing?’ I say, but as Gabby’s already sceptical expression increases, I shrink. ‘There’s nothing weird to it, I promise.’
Gabby lets out a small scoff then folds her arms. ‘You do know she leaves him all the time, don’t you? That this is just what she does? Makes everyone worry, breaks his heart, then comes back and expects us to act as if nothing happened?’
A defensiveness prickles my skin. ‘From what I’ve heard, she’s going through a lot.’
‘And so is Otis. The miscarriages crushed him, too, you know, not that anyone talks to him about it. They just expect him to be okay. To carry on as if he isn’t cut up on the inside.’
My cheeks fire into life, thinking of how in all our losses, people always ask how I am. Very rarely do they do the same to Kamal.
Glancing at the door Otis just exited from, Gabby moves closer. ‘Look, I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but you need to leave. You can say you being here isn’t weird all you like, but it is. And if the police are coming over soon, they won’t want random people hanging around.’
‘But I—’
‘No,’ she cuts in. ‘Do you have any idea how hard things are for Otis right now? Lex has left him again. He can’t take another hit like this. He’s hanging on by a thread. He doesn’t need you here, stirring up trouble.’
‘I’m not stirring trouble. I’m just offering to help.’
‘If you want to help, then leave.’
‘I can’t. I was there when Otis realised Alexa wasn’t using her card. The police will want to speak to me.’
Gabby’s nostrils flare, but she can’t deny that I am right. Turning away, she leaves me to wander around the impressive room while we wait for Otis to return.
I find myself being drawn to the wall facing the sofas, which is a giant built-in bookcase.
It has been expertly styled, with vases and small sculptures that probably cost more than most people’s monthly salaries sitting alongside beautifully framed photographs.
One is from Otis and Alexa’s wedding. It’s a snap I didn’t see on social media, but it’s just as stunning as the ones I did.
Alexa’s emerald ring sparkles even more in print.
The only thing more beautiful than it is her smile.
Further along the shelf, I spot another shot from the wedding. This time, it’s an image of the entire wedding party. Sure enough, Gabby is in it, standing two people away from Otis.
‘That’s one of my favourite photos,’ Gabby says, coming up behind me. ‘Otis bucked convention and had me as a groomsman. Fun idea, right?’
Looking at the image again, I notice Gabby’s dress is the same grey as the groomsmen’s suits. I wonder how much it stung her, to be part of Otis’s big day as a friend when she wanted to be his bride.
‘Are you and Alexa close too?’ I ask.
Gabby doesn’t react, almost as if she was anticipating this question. ‘Not as close as I am to Otis, but that’s to be expected because we grew up together.’ Her tone is guarded, almost as if she’s challenging me to read more into her relationship with Otis.
Otis enters the room at that moment, carrying an empty whisky glass.
‘Gabs and Lex get along great,’ he says, sinking into one of the sofas wearily. ‘I’m lucky. I know how awkward it can be when your spouse doesn’t get on with your friends. One of our other friends, Drew? His wife hates me.’
‘Only because you got him so drunk on his stag do, he missed his flight home,’ Gabby says.
Otis laughs, but his smile soon fades. ‘Lex was so unimpressed with me that day. I’ll never forget the look on her face when I got home.’
Wordlessly, Gabby slides from my side and goes to him, taking his hand in hers.
‘What if something’s happened to her, Gabby?’ he croaks. ‘I left for work on Saturday and didn’t look back once. I just wanted peace from it all, you know? But now…’
‘You don’t know anything bad has happened,’ Gabby soothes.
‘No, but I know nothing good has.’
Gabby’s lips open, a perky distraction on the tip of her tongue, but one look at Otis and she knows it won’t cut it. She falls silent. We all do, glancing at the time because until the police come, all we can do is wait.
The atmosphere before their arrival is tense.
The wind whistling outside breaks the oppressive absence of conversation, but no one comments on it.
Never have I witnessed weather mimic a mood so perfectly – a dark, brooding sky and rainfall lashing the windows, landing like teardrops. It’s almost poetic.
When sitting becomes too much, Otis paces the room, fizzing with manic energy. His phone ringing interrupts the silence, but every time he sees who is calling, he looks like he wants to throw his phone at the wall. By the sixth call, Otis shuts his phone in a kitchen drawer.
While there, he pours himself another whisky, but before he takes a sip, he pushes the glass over and walks away. Amber liquid pools across the counter, trickling onto the floor.
‘Otis, sit down,’ Gabby instructs, hurrying to the scene to tidy the mess.
Otis follows her command. He slumps onto a seat at the dining table, absent-mindedly running his finger back and forth across the edge of it.
‘Lex hated this table,’ he says. ‘Mum got it for us as a wedding present. Well, I paid for it, but Mum picked it. A family table, she called it. Twelve seats. Lex said, “What family has ten children?”, but Mum wouldn’t budge.
She was adamant that a dining table is the heart of a home. A place where happy memories are made.’
I think of the dining table in my own home, the wood chipped and stained by glasses of red wine from nights with friends I’ve allowed to slip out of my life. That table was where I wrote my first novel, back when I saw myself as too much of a novice to buy a desk.
With the money I received from my book deal, I purchased one as a sign of commitment to my new career, but sometimes I find myself pining for the life I had when I was at the dining table.
Back then, there was a simplicity to writing I’ll never have again.
There was no pressure, no expectation, just the flow of someone who had a story to tell.
‘I should have put my foot down,’ Otis says, pulling my focus. ‘Said no to the table and the expectation that we’d be able to fill it with a big family. Maybe Lex would have been happier then. Maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like this.’
‘Otis,’ I begin, but he ignores me and looks at Gabby.
‘How long has it been since I called the police?’ he asks.
Gabby’s expression tightens as she checks the time on her phone. ‘Not long, you’ve only been home an hour and a half.’
Otis groans. ‘Great. Who knows how long they’ll be?
It’s one of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere – the worst police presence known to mankind.
’ Defeated, Otis drops his head in his hands.
His fingers curl, his nails pressing into the top of his skull like he’s about to tear the skin free from the bone.
‘Otis,’ Gabby begins, but when he looks up, a fierce determination has taken over him.
‘I can’t sit here. It’s driving me insane.’
‘Don’t be silly. You need to be here when the police arrive.’
‘I can’t do it, Gabs. I can’t sit and act like every second isn’t torture, thinking of all the times I was opposite my wife and never tried to make things better for her.’
‘What are you doing?’ Gabby asks, her voice rising an octave when Otis stands up.
‘I’m going out.’
‘Out? Out where?’
Otis leaves the room without answering.
‘Otis, you need to be here when the police arrive!’ Gabby shouts, rushing after him. I stay put, more aware of my position as an outsider here than ever before.
Seconds later, Otis storms back into the kitchen wearing a raincoat over his clothes. ‘Lex left the house from this room. If I retrace her steps, maybe I’ll find something.’
‘But you don’t know where her steps took her,’ Gabby argues.
‘She left through that door,’ Otis says, pointing to the bifold doors. ‘She had to have gone somewhere from there.’
‘But you don’t know where!’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Otis cries, his distress rising until it sounds like it’s tearing his throat.
‘Do you think it’s not killing me that for the last few days when I should have put everything into finding her, I listened to my stung pride and did nothing?
It’s all I can think about! But I have to try, Gabby. I have to try.’
Gabby follows Otis, her face the picture of confusion, but I understand him. Otis knows that when he leaves those doors, he won’t find Alexa. That’s not what matters, though. Hunting as if he will find answers will burn off the energy flowing through him – and ease his guilt.
Ignoring another plea from Gabby to stay inside, Otis stomps towards the rain-splattered doors, pausing when he reaches them.
‘Are you coming, Janine?’ he asks.
Gabby’s jaw drops, but I don’t need to think twice. I grab my coat and follow Otis out into the garden, joining the hunt for Alexa Clarke.