What would you do if the man you loved vanished without a trace? When Charlie Diamond is asked to find Abigail's missing husband she knows the pair can't be as happily in love as she's being led to believe.

There's always more to every story and the wife is always the last to know. But Charlie finds Abigail's courage infectious and agrees to help.

Along the way she's forced to face her own demons and confront her beliefs around happy endings. What really happened to Abigail's mystery man that night? Can Charlie find him and what if she's too late?

Read Abigail

“Let me guess,” I said. “In the library with the candlestick?” I smiled but then mentally told myself off.

“What? No!” The voice hesitated. “Is this Ms Diamond?”

“Speaking, although you can call me Charlie. And you are?”

“Abigail. Abigail Rogers.”

“Have you phoned the police Mrs Rogers?” I enjoyed getting my information fresh but a bloody corpse was likely to put me off my lunch.

“They weren’t very interested. Said he was a low risk.”

A low risk death? I could feel my head starting to throb. That made no sense at all. I glanced at the time and realised I’d completely missed lunch. I’d been sitting outside the same boring white house for nearly three hours now. It was time for a break and Mrs Rogers and her dead husband sounded like as good an excuse as any.

“And you thought I could help?”

“I was hoping so, yes.”

“Tell you what,” I said, feeling uncharacteristically charitable, “how about I pop round, you can make us both a cuppa, and tell me all about it?”

“You’d do that?” Abigail’s voice sounded instantly lighter.

“Of course. What’s the address?”

I listened as she rattled off an address in a nearby town, mentally calculating how long it would take me to reach her with traffic and agreed to be there in about an hour. With one last glance at the still deserted house, I started the van and headed home. By my calculations I had just enough time to make a quick coffee and let the dog out to do her business before meeting with Abigail. If the police were in no rush, I didn’t see why I had to be.

As I drove I thought about my morning. When people ask the, ‘so what do you do?’ question I usually tell them I’m a plumber, but very occasionally, when the wind is blowing from the right direction or I fancy a change from being quizzed about leaky faucets, I tell them about my side gig as Charlie Diamond, most sought after private investigator this side of the Severn Bridge. I can tell they think it’s really exciting and glamorous. Their eyes light up and after asking me if I’ve ever killed anyone, they usually tell me about their brother’s wife’s cousin’s friend of a friend who used to be a detective once and, do I know them? What they don’t see and would never believe is the hours and hours I spend hanging around on my own waiting. If I were less comfortable with my own company some might even go so far as to call it lonely but not me. I love the anonymity, drifting between the shadows. The invisible woman, fighting crime and going where even the police fear to tread. Or so I like to tell myself.

It didn’t surprise me that Abigail had been fobbed off by the boys in blue. Although, if she’d really killed him, that had to warrant at least a little of their time, didn’t it? I decided to hold off making any judgements until I’d met with her. Jumping to conclusions was a mug’s game and never ended well, especially not for an investigator like me who worked on commission and had a reputation to maintain.

I gave my front door a shove as I turned the key. Stupid thing always stuck in winter but Jonathan had never got round to fixing it and the only thing he was likely to fiddle now were his child support payments. As the door opened, my crazy dog Missy jumped up from her position on the sofa and came to welcome me home. She followed me as I led her in the direction of the kitchen, dancing around in little circles. As I reached into the tin to grab her a biscuit she sat obediently on her hind legs and looked at me, her head tilted slightly. As soon as the treat was in her mouth she ran off out of sight to devour it. I couldn’t help but smile, she was very easily pleased. 

After opening the backdoor to let her go out, knowing that as soon as the food was eaten she’d be back, it was time put the kettle on. I was long overdue a caffeine fix although this one would need to be drunk on the road. I was about to call Missy when she started barking at the front door. I hadn’t heard anyone knock but she was always more reliable than me.

Standing on the other side of the door was Julie, my well-meaning and ever so earnest if a little overbearing, neighbour from across the road.

“Got a parcel for you Charlotte,” she said, waving a brown box in my direction.

I hid my grimace. It didn’t seem to matter how many times I reminded her that my name was Charlie, she always insisted upon trying to make me sound all girly. I’d never introduced her to my mother but I had a feeling they’d be firm friends.

“Thanks.” I took the parcel and made to head back inside but Julie it seemed, had other ideas.

“How are the children? Such a difficult age.” She shook her head sadly. She seemed to take it as a personal affront that one of her neighbours should end up a divorce statistic.

“They’re both fine thanks. In school.”

“And how are you? Busy day?” She smiled.

“Much the same as any day really.” I always hoped that by keeping my answers short she might one day take the hint and let me escape quickly. Today was not going to be that day.

“Did you hear the racket from three doors down?” Julie’s eyes had gone wide. Ah, now we’re getting to it, I thought.

“No?”

“Right old fuss and nonsense. Shouting and arguing. It’s a wonder they didn’t wake the whole street!”

“Can’t say I noticed, Julie.” I paused, waiting to see if she had anything more to say on the subject and when she didn’t speak, took that as my cue. “Anyway, thanks for this.” I gestured to the parcel. “Better be getting in. Need to feed the dog.”

“Was thinking about starting a petition. Get a cease and desist from the council.”

“I don’t think you need a petition for that Julie. Just ask to speak to someone and they’ll sort it out. Although, it’s not a cease and desist you’re after. They might not do much about a bit of arguing.”

Julie raised her eyebrows. “Didn’t have you down as the expert Charlotte.”

“It’s Charlie, and I’m not.” I shrugged. “Just trying to help. Anyway, must go. Thanks again for taking this in.” I gestured to the parcel with a smile and then closed the door. I knew that if I stopped to open the parcel now I’d be late so I stored it neatly in my office and, after calling Missy in, gave her a fuss and headed back out to the van. Julie was still standing outside her house, apparently watching the traffic in and out of the village. I gave her a wave and then jumped in the van. My tummy gave that now all too familiar flutter of nervous excitement. Okay Abigail, let’s see what you’ve got for me. 

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As I walked up the little path leading to her house, Abigail’s front door swung open and a barefooted woman came bounding out. Her face broke into a wide grin.

“Charlie Diamond? Abigail. Thank you so much for coming!”

Before I could offer her my hand she’d wrapped me in a hug. I’m not really a touchy feely person so was a little taken aback. She certainly wasn’t acting like a woman who’d just killed her husband.

“My pleasure,” I said, when she released me. “Shall we go in?” I gestured to the front door and followed her as she led me inside.

“Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee please. Plenty of milk, no sugar.”

She left me in the lounge while she went to make coffee and I took the opportunity to look around. Her house was one of those new builds; boxy, impersonal, but what it lacked in original features was more than made up for by the vibrant paintings on the wall. Every inch of space seemed to be taken up with art, a mixture of framed prints and originals, acrylic at a guess. What caught my eye though was the mountain range above the faux fireplace. Purples, greens and yellows mixed to give a startling vision of solitude.

“Toby painted that,” Abigail said as she walked back in with our drinks and caught me staring at it. “My husband. Stunning, isn’t it?”

“It really is quite something.” I’m useless at art but there was something captivating about the colours.

Abigail handed me my coffee with a smile and gestured for me to take a seat. I sat and waited for her to say more but after her initial burst of energy, she’d gone quiet. After sipping at my coffee I decided I’d have to lead the conversation.

“So what happened?”

She shrugged and seemed to study her coffee intently but when she looked up again I saw her eyes were damp.

“You said you thought you’d killed him?” I spoke softly. I didn’t want to add to her grief but I needed to get to the bottom of things. With no evidence of a struggle, no blood soaked carpets or stray carving knives, I was at a bit of a loss.

“We argued, the day he disappeared. He hadn’t wanted to go that day, said he didn’t feel great, but I made such a fuss. And now he’s gone, and it’s all my fault.”

With a thump of clarity the penny finally dropped. “So you didn’t actually kill him? He’s still missing?” I tried to ignore the fizzle of excitement in the pit of my belly. I loved missing people, they were one of my favourite cases to work on. And, not wanting to sound too full of myself, but I like to think I’m pretty good at them too. I kept the smile off my face as I spoke to Abigail though, poor woman.

“What? No, of course not.” She shook her head. “Sorry, is that what you thought? Goodness!” She let a little laugh escape but then clapped her hand over her mouth.

I smiled. “Well you did say you thought you’d killed him.”

“True.” Abigail’s eyes glazed over but then she seemingly pulled herself together because when she looked up and spoke again, she sounded determined. “So, will you find him?”

Despite my excitement, I needed to know more before making a decision. “How long has he been gone?”

“Six months, three days and …” she glanced at the clock. “Nineteen hours. Not that anyone’s counting.” She smiled.

She seemed like such a sweet, young thing, I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be away from her for such a length of time. But appearances can be deceptive, a voice in my head whispered. What isn’t she telling me?

“And what happened in the lead up to Toby’s disappearance Abigail?” I hesitated. “Had you argued? Any problems with money?”

The look that passed across her face made me feel like I’d kicked a puppy. “No.” She shook her head firmly. “Really, nothing like that at all. I love my husband. And he loves me. That’s why I went to the police. He wouldn’t choose to disappear. Someone must have …” Her voice trailed off, tears in her eyes. “Please find him. I’ll do anything, pay anything. Whatever it takes.”

“Okay, look, of course I’ll do what I can but you’re going to have to be straight with me.” I hesitated again, choosing my words with care. “And I’m going to have to ask some difficult questions. I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t.”

“I understand. Ask me anything. I’ll tell you everything. What do you want to know?”

The puppy dog look had returned, her eyes wide.

“Let’s start with some details. Last known whereabouts, place of work, other family members, that kind of thing. I have a form in the van which I can leave with you. Let me go and get it.” I stood up and headed back outside to get the paperwork.

In my experience, people like having something to do, it makes them feel like they’re having an impact, that their case is being heard and worked on. It hadn’t taken me long in this job to realise that a nice, official looking form was the perfect way to give a new client something to do. They always missed bits out, that was inevitable, but I liked that first initial documentation of a life, written by the person nearest and dearest to them.

I glanced over the form as I walked back towards Abigail’s house. I knew that some of the questions would make her feel uncomfortable but they were a damn sight more pleasant than having to talk about it face to face.

Abigail was waiting for me in the hallway, feet still bare. I put the form, a letter of engagement, my business card and information about my fee into an envelope and handed the whole lot to her with a smile.

“Take a look over these tonight, it’ll take you a little while I’m afraid. I’ll come back, tomorrow afternoon shall we say? And we can go from there.”

I offered Abigail my hand and she pulled me into another of her hugs. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I feel like he’s almost home already.”

They always said that, the euphoria of actually getting started. I just had to hope her confidence wasn’t unfounded.

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My tummy rumbled as I got back in the van and I decided I’d done more than enough work for one day. Besides, I knew that when I got home I’d spend the next little while typing up my notes, just like I did every day. I had a shocking memory and details were important. If it wasn’t written up it didn’t happen, that was my rule. It’s just a shame the kids couldn’t learn from their mother’s example. I’d lost track of the number of late nights I’d spent with one or both of them as they caught up on long overdue projects. I couldn’t be too hard on them though. After everything we’d been through it was little wonder they weren’t more messed up than they were.

As I headed home I thought about how much my life had changed in such a relatively small amount of time. Two years ago we’d been the perfect family unit. Him working all hours and me with my plumbing business to keep me out of mischief, such that it had taken me longer than it really should have to even notice anything was wrong. The truth is, I wasn’t looking for the deception. With hindsight of course it was blatantly obvious, but not to me, not right there and then. Naive fool that I was, I’d believed him when he said he had an overnight stay in Doncaster or Durham or any other of the faceless places he’d mention. And so what that he often came home smelling of other women’s perfume. He was a tactile guy and most of those tarts wore so much of the stuff, you’d have to be a total loner not to end up carrying some of it home with you.

Until the day I brought Louise home early with a toothache. The school had phoned me on my mobile and I hadn’t thought to pre-warn him and so it was that we walked into the front room to find him stark naked on the sofa, his pasty white buttocks dancing about like something possessed, writhing on top of a blonde tart from the office. I didn’t wait around long enough to catch her name. Poor Louise. I simply turned myself and Louise around and headed straight back out the front door, slamming it loudly on my way out. By the time he caught up to us I was already knocking on Julie’s door.

“What are you going to do?” The panic in his voice had torn at me, just briefly. For all his faults he’d always been a good dad but whatever I did next, he’d brought it on himself, I remembered.

“Get lost! And take the tart with you.”

I left Louise with Julie, who took great delight in fussing around her with offers of chocolate biscuits, then went back to the house. The tart was long gone but Jonathan was still standing in the front room looking pathetic.

“Charlie I …”

“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you would do something like this. And in front of Louise. Are you crazy?!”

“But I …”

Before he could say another word I took him by the arm and led him to the front door. “Bugger off!” And with that I slammed the front door behind him.

I went round the house and bagged up all his belongings, waiting until his car had gone, and then took them to the nearest charity shop. The woman behind the counter looked like she might cry when I handed over iPads and his entire CD collection. The locksmith was waiting for me when I got back and by home time he’d changed all the locks, handing me a shiny new set with a smile and a business card.

Jonathan had begged and pleaded with me to change my mind and when that hadn’t worked he reverted to angry but no matter how much he railed against the unfairness of the situation, I’d held my ground. ’Til death do us part, we’d vowed, but turning a blind eye to a bit of skirt on the side definitely hadn’t been a part of the deal.

I turned the key in the lock and gave the door a shove. “Hello?” I listened for the girl’s voices and was instead greeted with the sound of feet coming down the stairs.

“Mum! You’re home!” Louise appeared first and gave me a hug.

“Hi love, how was your day?”

“Great! Grace is in a right strop though.”

“Why, what happened?” My heart sunk. If Grace was in one of her moods it was going to be a very long evening. I’d never met twin sisters who were so different. Both the girls had times when they missed their dad but for Grace, it was almost like she took it personally. And it was totally my fault of course.

“Dunno. You know what she’s like.” 

Not wanting to appear to take sides, I decided not to say anything. But yes, I did know exactly what she was like. I just wished there was something, anything, I could do about it.

I smiled at my daughter. “Come and see what you fancy from the freezer for tea.” Gordon Ramsey I was not but I offered a great range of bake in the bag fish (cook from frozen, obviously) and my chips were to die for.

With the oven preheating I decided I could put off facing Grace no longer. I climbed the stairs, listening for sounds of life from her bedroom but the door was shut. When knocking gave no response I pushed the door open gently and poked my head round the door.

“Hi Gracie, I’m home.”

“Well obviously,” came the reply from a heap in the middle of her bed.

“You going to come down and have some dinner? What do you fancy?”

“Not hungry.”

“You need to eat something love.” I sighed. We went through this routine daily. “Did you have a hot meal at school? How about a sandwich or something?”

When she didn’t reply I took a couple of steps into her room and sat on the edge of her bed. Peeling back the covers I came face to face with a headphone covered scowl. I smiled and wiggled my eyebrows at her and after what felt like a lifetime, she gave the barest hint of a smile in return. I mentally whispered a thank you to whichever gods were apparently watching over me that day. The crisis was over and normal service could resume.

“So what will it be?”

“I’ll have a sandwich in a bit. Thanks Mum.”

Content that the rest of the evening could proceed happily, I left her to it and turned my attention to the oven, thankful that we’d used up our quota of domestic disputes for the day. Fingers crossed.

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Waiting for dinner to cook, I decided now was as good a time as any to check the phone for messages. Twenty-seven seconds later though I was seriously regretting my decision. My mother had the ability to make even the most resolute tee-totaler turn to a stiff drink and ever since Jonathan had left us, she’d only gotten worse. On a good day I would remind myself that it was only because she cares that she sticks her nose into every minute detail of my life. Today however was not a good day. Today had been a very long day and with Grace feeling a little delicate it was only going to get longer.

“Hello love, it’s only me, your mum.” A pause, as if she were waiting for me to pick up. “I guess you’re not there. I don’t know why you bother yourself with a telephone love, it’s not like you ever answer it. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to pop over with the girls, maybe have a spot of dinner. Give me a ring back when you have a minute.”

Not only was she a hopeless cook, there was no way I was going to inflict my two to dinner with my mother on a school night. She couldn’t be trusted not to say something completely inappropriate and embarrass one or even both of them. Nope, not today thank you. I pressed delete and shuddered. I’d have to call round and see her myself, I knew that, but anything was better than dinner.

I sniffed the air. Dinner! The fish would be just about edible if I covered it in a boat load of mayo but the chips were completely beyond redemption. There was only one thing for it, we’d have to scrounge some food from the pub.

“Girls?” I stood at the bottom of the stairs and shouted. Mumbled replies told me they could hear me. “I’ve had a bit of an accident with the chips. Do you fancy food in The Bont?”

It was a stupid question and the sound of rapid movement followed by a pair of faces at the top of the stairs told me just how silly a question it really was. Grace, who until now hadn’t been hungry, was the first to make it downstairs.

“I thought you weren’t hungry?” I said with a smile.

She shrugged. “Am now.”

We waited for Louise to put her shoes on before the three of us linked arms and headed in the direction of the village pub.

Jonathan and I had moved to Gloddfa Bont when I was pregnant with the twins. I’d thought about moving the three of us somewhere new after he left, but having vowed not to make any hasty decisions, I promised the girls we’d give it six months. After the initial shock and gossip had died down, staying turned out to be brilliant for us and now there was little we enjoyed more than a meal together down the local. Even Grace had a smile on her face by the time I pushed the door open and led them inside.

It wasn’t until I woke up the following morning that I remembered why we rarely went to The Bont for dinner on a school night. I’m not much of a drinker but, being far too easily swayed by my teenage offspring, I allowed myself a small glass of red. If I’d stopped at the one or remembered to have a pint of water when we got in, I wouldn’t be staring down the barrel of a migraine but alas. The three of us functioned on autopilot that morning. Me, with the responsiveness of a slug and them, barely holding back the tears of laughter as they watched me struggle. Swines!

After waving them off to catch the school bus I made myself another coffee and curled up on the sofa with my laptop. Missy padded in and soon made herself comfy on top of my feet and I mentally checked slippers off my Christmas list. The next hour passed happily with me reviewing my notes from the day before. There was something quite unsettling about Abigail Rogers; I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was yet. My thoughts were interrupted by my mobile. For a split second I considered letting it go to voicemail but after glancing at the screen to confirm it wasn’t my mother, I took the call.

“Hello? Charlie Diamond speaking.”

“Is that plumber?” The voice on the other end of the phone was male and sounded like he thought he’d dialled a wrong number.

“Yep, speaking. How can I help?”

“But you’re a bird.”

I looked down at my fluffy PJs, considered making a comment about my lack of feathers but then changed my mind.

“Did you have some sort of plumbing situation that you needed help with sir?”

“Ai. It’s me shower. It’s stopped working and missus needs to get to bingo. I’d do it me self but need to get to work.”

“Will your wife be home in about an hour? If you give me the address I’ll come round and have a look at it for you.”

“Champion. Thanks lass.” He gave me his address and then hesitated. “Sorry about the bird comment.” Before I could reply he’d hung up.

At some point I knew I’d have to knock the plumbing business on the head. I was getting far busier with investigations and at least no one questioned my ability to do the job when they hired me to find their nearest and dearest, well, not very often at least, but there was something quite satisfying about the physicality of plumbing. Plus it was an excellent cover for when I wanted to go snooping around. No one gives you a second glance when you wander around looking official, you become invisible.

I drained my coffee and got dressed in my plumbing uniform of polo shirt and combat trousers, tied my hair back in a quick ponytail and, hangover forgotten, was out the door in ten minutes flat. Abigail wasn’t expecting me until later that afternoon so with a bit of luck I could fix the poor lady’s shower and still have time to nip back for lunch. If only my doubts about Abigail could be quite so easily resolved.

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When the door was answered by a young, thin woman I almost asked if her mother was home, she certainly didn’t match the image I had of the bingo playing wife of the man on the phone, but thankfully years of putting my foot in it gave me an element of caution.

“Hi, I’m Charlie Diamond, plumber?” I indicated to the bag in my hand. “I’m here about your shower.”

“Oh thank goodness! Come in, come in.” She stood to one side. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. It’s been playing up for a little while, the knob was all stiff, you know?”

“Sounds like the valve’s gone.” I hovered in the hallway waiting for her to show me to the bathroom.

“Would you like a cup of tea or something?”

I smiled. It was the unwritten rule of employing tradespeople that they must be offered beverages on arrival. “Not for me thanks. Just had one. Let’s take a look at this shower shall we?”

I followed her up the stairs, zoning out as she waffled on with apologies for the mess. I went to a job once where the bathroom had been so thoroughly cleaned before my arrival, the fumes made it impossible to work for about half an hour. Give me a couple of hours and a decent Internet connection and I was fairly confident I could build you a minor explosive device out of the contents of most people’s cleaning cupboards.

As anticipated, the bathroom was immaculate with a faint whiff of lemon in the air. I hid my smile and got busy with the shower hose. Five minutes later I was back downstairs and saying my goodbyes.

I handed her my card. “If it happens again, give me a ring and I’ll pop back.”

“You mean it’s all done? What was wrong with it?” The woman looked surprised but relieved. I knew that look. It was the look of someone who’d been expecting a huge bill.

“Looks like your shower valve is on its last legs. If you come up to the bathroom I’ll show you what to do if it happens again.”

She watched as I unscrewed the hose and gave a little poke around with my finger. “When the valve goes for real the water will stop. When that happens, ring me.” I pointed at the card in her hand. “It’ll be cheaper to replace the whole shower unit so I’ll order one in and keep it safe until you need it.”

“Okay I will. Thank you!” She showed me to the door. I knew I’d be back in about a week’s time, maybe two if she was lucky, but I couldn’t justify fitting a new shower today when it was all working again. I climbed into the van and glanced at the dashboard. Thanks to that quick job I definitely had time for lunch before meeting Abigail but first, I decided to do a loop back round to the white house I’d been staking out. I knew that if I was patient enough I’d be sure to catch someone going in or out of the property. Waiting around for hours yesterday hadn’t brought me any luck so maybe it was time to change tactics. This was my bread and butter that paid the bills while I played with the fun stuff like missing people. A bit tedious but totally necessary.

An hour later I was home again. I’d knocked on a couple of doors, peeked into the letterbox, and even found my way round the back so I could press my nose up against the glass but nobody had seen anything or anyone for days. If this had been in the rough part of town I’d have convinced myself they were all lying but they couldn’t be in cahoots, could they? I shook the thought from my head and turned my attention to lunch. Cheese and onion toasted sandwich, the lunch of champions. The toasted sandwich maker had probably seen better days but having decided that a few germs were good for building up the immune system, I cut the sandwich in half and took both it and my phone into the front room. Ignoring Missy’s dinner dance (she seemed to live in hope that I’d one day drop the whole lot on the floor and determined to improve the odds by dancing under my feet any time I came into the room with food) I settled on the sofa.

In between bites I tapped on my phone, searching for anything newsworthy related to one Toby Rogers. There was a short article in the local paper dated around the time of his disappearance and a frankly terrible company photograph on a website that looked like it was circa the turn of the century. The photo was so awful, I couldn’t even be sure it was the right man but made a note to check with Abigail when we met. Otherwise, Toby Rogers was the invisible man. No social media profiles to stalk. No public records. If he’d chosen to disappear, he’d been very thorough. When a quick search on the Companies House website drew another blank I decided to call it a day and instead go and speak to the woman herself.

As I drove out of the village towards Abigail’s house my thoughts turned to yesterday’s meeting. She’d been so sweet, adamant that theirs was a happy marriage. I wanted to believe her, if you couldn’t trust your client, what basis was that for a working relationship? There was something niggling at the back of my mind though, something that I just couldn’t shift. What loving family man in his right mind would just vanish like that? And if he didn’t vanish, surely the police would have had some kind of breakthrough by now? And who would want to harm an invisible man? Something didn’t make any sense and I feared that even after I went through some of the details on the form I’d left her overnight, I’d still have more questions than answers.

I pulled up outside Abigail’s house and hesitated before getting out of the van. The excitement of a new case had given way to the jitters. I knew I had to pull myself together, I just wasn’t sure I was ready for another onslaught of love’s young dream and happy families. I took a deep breath, walked up to the front door and was about to give it a gentle tap when, from somewhere inside the house, I heard a scream.

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I banged on the door. “Abigail? You ok?” I banged again, all thoughts of a gentle knock chased out of my head by the scream. I peeked through the letter box but couldn’t see anything so I banged again and then looked at the door, deciding where the best point would be to make contact. One good kick should do it. I didn’t really want to have to break her door down but felt a certain duty of care. Before I could decide on my next course of action though, the door swung open to reveal a sheepish looking Abigail.

She smiled when she saw me. “Charlie, good of you to call round. Come in won’t you?” She stood to one side so I went in and followed her into the lounge. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Are you okay? I heard you scream.” My heart was still racing and I couldn’t just sit there and pretend nothing had happened.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It was a spider.”

“A spider?” I wasn’t buying it.

“I’m ‘fraid so. They terrify me. It ran across my foot when I was in the kitchen doing the dishes.”

“Didn’t you hear me banging? I made quite a racket.”

“Did you? Oh. Sorry. I had the radio on.”

Something about this was weird. I turned my attention to the reason for my visit. “Did you have time to take a look at the paperwork I left you?”

“Absolutely. I filled it all in last night after story time. Didn’t want the children to see me upset so thought it best to leave it until after they were safely tucked in.”

I nodded. “Very sensible. May I take a look?”

She stood up and went to a small desk behind the door that I hadn’t noticed before. She took a little key out of her pocket and carefully unlocked one of the drawers, pulled out a stack of papers and handed them to me.

“I found some bank statements, bills, that kind of thing. Just in case it was helpful.”

“Do you mind if I take these with me? I’ll return them when I’m done.”

“Of course, take anything you need.”

I’d go through her form properly later. For now I wanted to hear more about her life since he’d gone. I needed to find a way in, an angle. “So how are you doing Abigail? With him being gone all this time. You mentioned the children. How old are they?”

I knew I was babbling, filling the silence while waiting for her to latch onto something I was saying so she could run with it.

“We’re okay. I mean, it’s not great, especially for Alexander. He misses his dad. But Lucy doesn’t seem to have really noticed.”

“Alexander’s the oldest?”

She nodded. “He’s six. Lucy’s three. In fact …” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “You can meet her if you like? She finishes pre-school early on a Thursday.”

“Sounds good. If you think she’d be okay with that?” The last thing I needed was to cause a tantrum.

Abigail smiled. “She’s very laid back our Lucy. Seems to take everything in her stride.”

“Great!”

Abigail stood up and started busying herself with shoes and a coat.

“Oh, you mean right now?” I’d hoped we’d have a little more time to chat without children.

“If we leave now we can walk instead of taking the car. We can talk more on the way.”

“Walking it is then.” I wasn’t usually much of a walker but if walking helped her relax and maybe open up a little, that had to be a good thing. I followed her as she led us along the leafy road. The sun was shining but the air was crisp and I was glad I’d brought a coat.

“Have you lived here long?”

“Just over six years. We moved here when we found out I was expecting. Toby wanted somewhere quieter for the children, away from the noise and pollution of a big city.”

“And before that?”

“Cardiff. We met there, in university, and never had a reason to leave. Well, until the kids.” She shrugged.

“Were you on the same course?”

“Me and Toby?” She laughed. “Not a chance! He’s far cleverer than me. Masters in civil engineering. No, we met in the bar during Freshers week. Such a cliché.”

“Sweet.” I kept my tone light. “Love at first sight eh?”

“Sort of. We had our ups and downs, but ultimately, yeah, it’s always been just him and me.”

“Is there much work for a civil engineer round here? I’d have thought Cardiff would have much better career options.”

“It’s not ideal but it works for us. He spends a lot of time on the road though, site visits, meetings. That’s where he was off to when he …”

“When he disappeared?”

She nodded, her eyes filled with tears. One fat tear escaped and fell slowly across her cheek. She wiped it away. “Sorry. I’m usually okay. It’s just talking about it.”

I put my hand on her arm. “I understand. Would you rather we talked about something else for now? Tell me about his family maybe? Do they live close?”

Abigail took a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back and plastered a smile on her face. “We’re here now. Come and meet Lucy.”

As she said this we turned a corner and I saw the large blue gates of a school ahead of us. The main entrance was deserted but I could see a gang of people near the back of the building. I watched her carefully as she smiled at a few familiar faces but it wasn’t until a little girl with a shock of red hair waved at her from behind the legs of a teacher that her face broke into a broad grin. The girl pointed at Abigail and the teacher nodded, releasing her little charge into the welcoming arms of her mother.

“Lucy!” Abigail gave her daughter a squeeze and they stood like that for a moment, lost in each other’s company. When Lucy glanced over her mother’s shoulder and saw me watching her she stopped and pointed.

“Who she?”

“Lucy, this is Charlie.”

I crouched down and offered the child my hand. “Nice to meet you Lucy. Your mummy’s told me all about you.”

Lucy turned her head from me to Abigail, then back to me, paused for a moment as she drew breath, and then burst into tears.

I sighed. Here we go again!

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Abigail pulled her daughter into another hug. “Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay.” She looked over her daughter’s head and mouthed a sorry in my direction. “Come on now, no need to cry.” Still the sobbing continued. “Whatever is the matter?”

After what felt like an eternity, the tears slowed down and, in between little sniffs, Lucy spoke to Abigail. “Lady not take you way mummy.”

“What?” Abigail laughed. “Oh silly. I’m not going anywhere. Why would you think that?”

“Lady take Daddy.”

“No, this lady is here to help. She’s going to find Daddy.” She stood up and gently led Lucy in the direction of the gate. “Come on, let’s go home.”

She walked ahead of me, holding Lucy’s hand. I followed behind at what I hoped was a respectful distance. This was exactly the scenario I’d been keen to avoid. There was something about me and little ones, we just didn’t hit it off. The walk home took twice as long thanks to the regular pauses to pick up stones and pull up socks and I was certain that if I heard ‘why?’ one more time, I was likely to go completely mental. It gave me a new found admiration for full time parents though. They were clearly saints and far superior to the likes of me.

Eventually we arrived back in the relative safety of Abigail’s front room, although the child was still looking at me like I was one of Cinderella’s ugly sisters.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Abigail asked me.

“Not for me thanks. I really should get going. I imagine you and Lucy have things to do.” I looked at Lucy and gave her what I hoped was a winning smile.

“I hungry.” Lucy stared straight at me as she spoke and I wondered for a split second if she might be talking to me but I was saved from answering by Abigail handing her a little bag of animal biscuits.

“Here’s a snack. Would you like some milk?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” Abigail said.

“Yes pease Mummy.”

“Good girl. Here, you can watch a cartoon for a few minutes.” Abigail switched the telly on then turned to me. “Would you mind giving me a hand with something in the kitchen?”

I glanced over at Lucy before following Abigail out but the girl’s attention was focussed on the colourful images on screen.

“Sorry about today. I know it’s not been ideal but,” Abigail hesitated. “Will you help? Please?”

A wave of guilt washed over me. I hadn’t realised there was still any doubt around me taking the case, I’d known before I’d left her yesterday that I would. I resisted the urge to hug her and opted instead for a bright smile. “Of course. Sorry. Didn’t I say that yet? Sign the letter of engagement and I’m all yours.”

Abigail’s face brightened instantly. “Really? That’s brilliant! Thank you so much!”

A cry from the other room dragged our attention back to her family circumstances. I looked at my watch. “I really do need to go now though. Let me make some enquires and I’ll be in touch. Okay?” 

I let out my breath in a sigh as I beat a hasty retreat. There was something about a wailing child that had the ability to totally set my nerves on the edge. Natural selection, my father would have said. Survival of the fittest. If a baby couldn't persuade its carers to look out for it, it deserved everything it got.

It was the thought of my father that saw me turn the van in the direction of my parent’s house. Either that or I was just too spineless to call my mother back. Ain't that the truth. She'd always been difficult but losing my dad had been the final straw that tipped her over the edge into complete and total bitch mode. All she needed was the fur coat and she'd easily give Cruella a run for her money. Small children and puppies beware. On a good day she was barely tolerable but her constant jibes about my inability to keep a husband wore pretty thin and I could already feel a stabbing pain between my eyebrows at the thought of what delights she might have in store for me today.

Pulling up outside what had once been my family home, I crossed my fingers that I might find her not home but I was kidding myself. She never went anywhere these days. I dragged my feet to the front door and rang the bell.

My mother’s face peered out from behind the door and when she saw it was me she scowled.

“Not dead then,” she said as she led me into the kitchen.

“Lovely to see you too.” I glanced around and took in the mess. Every surface was covered in a combination of half chopped ingredients and saucepans. “Are you expecting company?”

“Ha! As if you didn't know. Your sister is coming to dinner. Bringing that new young man of hers.”

This was news to me. I’d long since given up trying to keep up with my baby sister’s love life. The last I’d heard she was dating a paramedic. My sister Frances was the good girl in the family, the golden girl who could do no wrong. Choosing to keep ninety per cent of her love interests under wraps, I knew it must be fairly serious if she’d chosen to bring this one home to meet our mother.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” I said, grasping onto any excuse that might allow me to skip the Spanish Inquisition.

“You don’t have to Charlotte. There’s plenty enough here for everyone. Why don't you ring the girls and see if they want to join you here for tea later?”

“Can’t I’m afraid. Drama tonight. Louise won’t want to miss it. Besides, we’re paid up for the term.”

“That’s a shame,” she said, sounding like it was anything but. I knew she liked to have Frances all to herself.

I gave her a cursory kiss on the cheek, made the usual promises to call, and was soon back in the safety of my van. Phew! Made it! I looked back at the house and was surprised to see my mother at the window watching me. Weird. Now what was that about?

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When I got home and walked into a full scale argument between Louise and Grace, all thoughts of my mother were chased from my head. I had bigger problems to contend with. Psychoanalysing my sister and her relationship with Mum would have to wait until another time. When things had eventually calmed down and all three of us were fed, I went back through the forms I’d collected from Abigail and made arrangements to meet with Rob, one of the local police detectives who owed me a favour. In exchange for letting him try and sneak a peek down my top, he kept me up to date with all the latest happenings and that included any new cases they had. Even if he hadn’t been involved with the search for Toby Rogers, I was sure he could get me the most up to date information.

And so it was, the following morning, that I found myself sitting in a greasy spoon near the train station, awaiting his arrival. I’d already eaten but I knew why Rob had suggested meeting here. The Railway Inn did a mean cooked breakfast and you could be sure I’d be buying. It was as I was contemplating ordering a second coffee that a figure appeared next to me and pulled back the chair with a screech.

I looked up. “You’re late.”

“G’morning to you too. Lovely to see you this fine morning.” He hovered over my shoulder and I instinctively pulled my cardigan closed.

“Sit down would you?” If I was buying breakfast he could sod off trying to guess the colour of my bra.

“What’s got your knickers in such a twist?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. I’ve just got lots to do and you’re late.”

This wasn’t true. I didn’t have a single lead yet, Rob was the first person I’d spoken to, but I was itching to get started and didn’t appreciate being messed around. The waitress came over and I listened as Rob rattled off his breakfast order. She turned to me.

“Just another coffee please. Black this time.”

Pleasantries over with I gave Rob what I hoped was my most piercing look. “What do you know about Toby Rogers.” I took a photo out of the folder I’d prepared from Abigail’s information and showed it to him.

“Hmm, I feel like I should know this one. What’s his story?”

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me. Reported missing six months ago by his wife, a Mrs Abigail Rogers, my client. She says your lot aren’t doing their job properly, wants me to see what I can find.”

“Missing person eh. Vulnerable?”

I shook my head. “Not especially.”

“Been any contact? Ransom demand? Suicide note?”

“Nope, nothing. He just went to work one morning and never came home.”

“Weird.”

“Is that really the best you can do?” The waitress appeared with my coffee and the food for Rob. I waited while she arranged his toast and gave him sauce. When she was gone I gestured to the food he was now tucking into. “I buy you breakfast and all you can give me is weird?” I made air quotes and rolled my eyes at him.

“What do you want me to say? I don’t even remember the guy. I’ll have a look at his file when I get back to the nick but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“Can you at least tell me the procedure? Would they have done a phone trace? Looked at his bank records? Maybe searched his house and talked to the wife?”

Rob chewed slowly and took a sip of tea before answering. “Come on, you know the procedure Charlie. He’s low risk. We can’t do a trace on someone low risk, it costs an absolute bloody fortune and the paperwork is a pig!”

I sighed. Of course I knew that, I just wanted to hear a different answer, hoped that maybe something about Abigail or Toby might have stuck in his mind, to give me something to go on.

“What did his wife say about it all? You trust her?” It was Rob’s turn to give me a pointed look.

“Just that they were love’s young dream. No way he’d choose to leave her and the kids like that.” I chose not to answer his second question. How could I admit to a police officer that there was something suspicious about her? Even if it was only Rob, he’d feel compelled to act on anything I told him.

“And you don’t buy that?”

“Call me cynical but have you ever met anyone who’s actually that happy? The perfect marriage with the perfect kids? Do me a favour!”

“Spoken like a true divorcee.” Rob smiled and caught my eye, his hands held up in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just saying, maybe your perception of marriage is a little skewed.”

“But I …”

“Understandably so. I get it. Just cut the lady some slack until I pull up the file. Okay?”

I nodded. “Of course. I’ve been nothing but sweetness to her. Poor woman’s missing her husband. I’m just waiting for the plot twist and was hoping you’d be able to help find it.”

Unofficially of course. Rob and I both knew that anything he told me was strictly off the record but we had something of an agreement. He told me what I needed to know about missing people and I kept out the way when the aforementioned missing person was someone they were actively seeking. My ‘no find, no fee’ policy meant that he and I rarely found ourselves looking for the same people. My clients tended to be motivated by money. Specifically, searching for someone who had skipped town with it. Rob and his colleagues were more interested in the kind of missing people who all too often ended up being found without a pulse. The thought made me shudder and cross my fingers. For all my doubts about Abigail, I really didn’t want to think about how this one might end up back in Rob’s jurisdiction.

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Having sent Rob back to work, I dialled Abigail’s home number and listened as her overly cheerful voice informed me that no-one was available to take my call right now. Blah, blah, blah. I hated answering machines so hung up. What I really wanted to do next was start talking to some of Abigail and Toby’s friends and family. I needed to paint a picture of their family life. Getting Abigail’s permission to visit her parents had merely been a courtesy and since she wasn’t taking calls, it was one I was happy to skip. I looked again through the file, found the address I needed and added it to the sat nav on my phone. Based on current projected traffic conditions I could be there within the hour. Perfect!

As remote as people think South Wales is, one big advantage is that, thanks to the motorway, everywhere is relatively close to everywhere else and even if you don’t exactly know where you’re going, so long as you get your car pointing in the right direction, sooner or later you’ll spot a place name you recognise. This was true of my journey to Abigail’s family home. I’d never heard of the tiny village but knowing that it was vaguely near Bridgend, I was all set.

As I drove I took in some of the signs along the way, trying to spot the turning for Toby’s last known sighting. According to Abigail’s forms, he’d been working on a construction site somewhere along the M4. I made a mental note to call in the service stations with his photo. With all the travelling Abigail said he did, he had to stop somewhere. He didn’t have the most memorable looking of faces but maybe, if I was very lucky, someone might remember him. Forty-five minutes later I pulled in front of a small detached bungalow. I tried ringing Abigail once more, just in case, but when her cheery voice kicked in for the second time that morning I hung up. I grabbed my bag and headed up a little path that led to the front door.

After listening to the doorbell sing one of those annoying chirpy little tunes, I saw a figure approach the door. A lady answered, presumably Abigail’s mother. It was then that I realised I’d totally forgotten to check what Abigail’s last name had been before she became Mrs Toby Rogers. I felt my face flush. I hated it when I made myself look like an idiot.

“Hi there, I’m Charlie Diamond.”

“Whatever you’re selling we’ve got more than enough of it.”

“I’m not selling anything. You’re Abigail’s mother? Abigail Rogers?”

“Yes.” A look of panic flashed across the lady’s face. “Is she okay?”

“Oh sorry, yes of course, she’s fine.” I took one of my cards out of my pocket and held it out. “I’m a private investigator. Abigail’s asked me to look into Toby’s disappearance. I wondered if I might come in and we can have a little chat?”

“You want to talk to me? About Toby?”

I nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Well I don’t know. I’d have a check with my husband. Wait right there would you?”

I watched as she closed the door, leaving me standing on the wrong side of it.

After what felt like hours, the door opened again and Abigail’s mum stood to one side. “Please come in. My husband will see you in the drawing room. Can I get you some refreshments?”

I bit my top lip to stop myself from laughing out loud. Drawing room? In a bungalow? It was like something from a bad fifties sitcom.

“No, nothing for me thanks. I’ve not long finished a coffee Mrs James.”

I mentally congratulated myself for having had the foresight to check through my notes while waiting to be admitted and followed as I was led along the hall. I’d imagined the drawing room to be grand with high ceilings and ornate oak furniture so when Mrs James led me into a poky little lounge with mismatched furniture and a squat, slightly scruffy looking man sitting in the corner, I couldn’t help but grin.

I turned my grin into what I hoped passed for a warm smile and offered the man my hand. “Mr James? Charlie Diamond. Thank you for seeing me.”

He ignored my hand and cut straight to the point. “What’s all this about?”

“I’m helping your daughter Mr James. Abigail?” I didn’t know how many daughters he had but figured it never hurt to clarify. “She wants me to help her find Toby.”

“That's very generous of you. Friend of hers?”

“It's my job Mr James.” I handed him my card. “Private investigator.”

“You any good?” He scowled.

“I like to think so. I mean, my track record’s pretty solid. Did you want to take references?” 

“Expensive?”

“No find no fee.”

“And if you find him?”

“Five.”

“Thousand?”

“Yes sir.”

He let out a low pitched whistle and then turned to face me fully and smiled. “You’ve got yourself a deal young lady. Now sit yourself down here and tell me what I can do to help.” He patted the space next to him on the sofa.

Wait, what? This was Abigail’s case. She’d already signed a contract. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Mrs James walked in with a tray of tea as I spoke. She laughed. “Oh you mustn’t mind him. He’s helping Abigail with your fee and just wanted to be sure you were up to the job.”

“Oh.”

“And you passed with flying colours.” Mr James sounded delighted. He was so animated I thought he might actually giggle. “But please sit down. I really do want to help.”

I did as I was asked and even found myself accepting a cup of tea. I was more of a coffee drinker but with everything laid out so neatly on the tray, it would have felt churlish to refuse. I already knew a little bit about Abigail’s parents, him a retired headteacher and her, at home with the children, but I listened patiently as they told me stories about Abigail’s childhood. Judging by the furniture, they’d downsized considerably over recent years but I could easily imagine Mr and Mrs James lording it over their neighbours when Abigail was a little girl.

“And that’s how young Toby was able to secure such a terrific position.”

“All thanks to you eh Mr James?” I smiled sweetly, happy to stroke his ego if it meant a way in to Toby Rogers’s work colleagues.

He nodded and puffed out his chest. “All thanks to me.”

“It occurs to me …” I hesitated.

“Yes?” Curiosity piqued, he sat up poker straight.

“I don’t suppose it would be possible to meet some of Toby’s colleagues? It would be a great help. Build a picture of the time leading up to his disappearance.”

“Do you know, I was just about to suggest that.”

“Were you Mr James? Well what a terrific idea!” I hid a smile.

After a challenging start, this was turning out to be a great visit. Carry on like this and I’d have that missing husband home in no time. I patted myself on the back for a job well done and accepted a second cup of tea. What could possibly go wrong?

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After our second cup of tea, it was time for us to visit the site where Toby had been working. There was a little back and forth about who should drive, Mr James being of the opinion that the man’s place was behind the wheel, but having explained how much I’d really appreciate the opportunity to drive so the route would stick better in my memory, he gave in. Being a terrible traveller prone to sickness on even the shortest of journeys, I was secretly relieved and soon had us headed back in the direction of the motorway.

I followed Mr James’s directions as he led us towards another town I’d never heard of somewhere deep in the South Wales valleys. We drove past row after row of squat terraced houses, the windows grimy from decades old soot. This was a town that had never quite recovered from the shock of the pits closing. 

“They promised regeneration money but can’t see it myself.” Mr James gestured to the world outside. “Such a shame.” He shook his head but didn’t say any more.

Five miles on we turned down what might once have been a rough farm track but now, thanks to the housing development, sported a brand new tarmac road, complete with waste paper bins and trees planted at regularly spaced intervals. Council regulations followed to the letter. Mr James pointed to a clearing a couple hundred yards up and I parked the van.

“Don’t suppose you brought your wellies?” Mr James asked, pointing to my ballet flats. “Didn’t think so,” he said when I shook my head. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of the lads.”

I picked my way across the soggy grass, mentally congratulating myself for having at least worn black. If I’d worn my baby blue flats I wouldn’t have had a chance of hiding the mud. In the distance I could see what was presumably the show house, dotted alongside the half dug foundations of its neighbours. A couple of machines were in operation but there was also a lot of men standing around talking. If this site was anything to go by, it was no surprise building projects never completed on time.

One of the men looked over in our direction and waved. Mr James waved back. “That’s Bill, site manager.”

“Toby’s boss?”

“Absolutely not.” Mr James sounded huffy. “Toby was, is, a site consultant. He certainly wouldn’t be expected to give account to Bill.” Mr James’s face softened. “Nice chap though.”

When we reached him, Bill held out his hand and smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Trevor, what a surprise! I didn’t know you were coming today.” He turned to me. “And in such fine company. Bill Winkleman. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He offered me his hand and I shook it.

“Charlie Diamond. Good to meet you.” I hesitated, not sure exactly how much of our arrangement I was to share with this stranger.

“Charlie’s helping our Abigail. She’s looking for Toby.” 

Bill’s eyes widened. “Really? Oh that’s wonderful. About time someone did something. Poor girl. How is Abigail?”

Mr James shook his head. “As well as can be expected. It’s not easy for her though.” His voice took on the tone of one who has suffered great loss. It definitely didn’t match the picture I had of his daughter.

“I think she’s doing brilliantly!”

Both the men’s heads swivelled in my direction.

“I mean, under the circumstances, but she’s doing great. Really strong.” I turned to Mr James. “If she were my daughter I’d be incredibly proud of her.”

“Well yes I am, both her mother and I are, but …”

“So how about we stop with the poor baby rhetoric and actually start trying to find your son-in-law?” I could feel myself shaking slightly. I didn’t know where that had come from but something about the way the two of them had described Abigail riled me. I held my breath and looked from Bill to Mr James, wondering if I’d totally blown it.

“Right you are young lady.” Mr James smiled at me. “Where should we start?”

“What I’d really like to do is get a better picture of Toby’s movements on the days leading up to his disappearance. Was he here on site full time Bill?”

“How about we have a brew in my office and I can check the diary?” Bill pointed at a portakabin behind him. “I might even have some chocolate biscuits.”

“That sounds great, thank you. What do you think Mr James? Fancy a cuppa?” When I turned to look at him, Abigail’s father was staring into the distance, completely oblivious to Bill’s invitation.

Bill slapped him on the back. “Course he does. Never says no to a cuppa does our Trevor. Follow me.”

I was surprised to find the inside of the cabin was warm and almost plush. One wall had a huge white board with sketches of the site held in place by little magnets and the stack of hard hats in the corner were a dead giveaway but otherwise we could have easily been inside any regular office in town. I took a seat on one of the comfy chairs in what I imagined was meant to be a waiting area and pulled my phone from my bag.

“Do you mind if I record our conversation? So much easier than having to scribble notes.”

“Um, I don’t know.” Bill looked from me to Mr James. “I mean, I can’t really tell you much.”

I smiled, keen to put him at ease. He’d gone from jolly to drawn in the space of five seconds. “Don’t worry, I’m just building a picture of Toby’s movements. You mentioned a diary?”

“Yes, the work diary. Now where is it …” He started opening and closing desk drawers randomly. “These lads, they’re so messy. I’m not sure where they’ve put it. We use it to keep a record of who’s on site. Health and safety. But I can’t seem to find it.”

“Don’t worry about it for now. How about I leave you my card and when you find it you can give me a ring?”

“Okay. Sorry, I just don’t know.” He looked from me to Mr James again but the older man hadn’t appeared to notice.

“Do you maybe remember the last time you saw Toby? If not the date, the circumstances? What the two of you worked on?”

He shook his head. “I don’t I’m afraid.”

“Well how about Toby and the men on site? Did they get along? Do you think any of them might remember something that could help.”

“I really couldn’t say. It was such a long time ago. Staff change.” He shrugged. “Now if there’s nothing else, I really should get back to work. Nice to see you again Trevor.”

The two men shook hands and before I could say any more we were back in the van, heading towards the James’s house, all mention of tea and biscuits seemingly forgotten. I didn’t know what had just happened but one thing was certain, I would definitely be making a return visit without my client’s father. Not only did I need to speak to Bill again, there was a whole team on site. Who knew what they might be able to tell me. One thing was sure, Bill’s reaction made no sense at all and I was keen to find out why.

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After dropping Mr James home, politely declining his offer of more tea, I decided it was time to head back to Gloddfa Bont via Abigail’s house. I needed to keep her updated on my progress, that was my excuse at least, but what I really wanted was to get a glimpse of life for the mum of two when no one was watching. By the time I’d navigated the now busy motorway and pulled up outside Abigail’s house, it was starting to get dark. I could see lights on in the house and the outline of little people in one of the rooms upstairs. I turned off the engine and just waited. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for but I still couldn’t shake the feeling I had about her. I was about to get out of the van and knock on the door when my mobile rang. I glanced at the screen before answering and smiled.

“Hi Grace. You okay love?”

I listened as my daughter complained about the lack of food in the house. I really needed to go shopping but the last few days had been so busy, I simply hadn’t got round to it yet.

“Could you make yourself a toasted sandwich?” I listened to more gripping. “Just to tide you over until I get home. Won’t be long now.”

I was about to suggest she make one for Louise at the same time but before I could speak again she’d hung up. I sighed. No doubt there’d be yet another argument and I wasn’t sure I had the energy for it. With one last glance at the house I decided updating Abigail could wait until after the weekend. It was late o’clock on Friday and I needed a quiet relax with my girls. I put the van into gear and headed home. The reality of a weekend together never quite seemed to match the picture in my head but it was nearly Christmas. I had to believe there was something vaguely festive we could do together that wouldn’t result in world war three.

It was as I was mentally sorting through the list of options that my phone rang again. I pressed the button to answer it using the handsfree kit. “Look Grace, I’m on my way. If you could just ….”

“Charlie?”

Jonathan? I felt my stomach flip at the sound of his voice. “What do you want?”

“Lovely to hear from you too love.”

“I’m not your love. I haven’t been your love for twenty-two months.” And thirteen days. Not that I said that out loud of course. “So don’t ‘love’ me. What do you want?”

I could hear Jonathan laughing at me. I hated it when he did that. He knew he was winding me up and he was enjoying every single second of it. I just didn’t know how to stop myself reacting to him.

“Well, what do you want?” I counted to three in my head and was about to hang up when he spoke.

“I wondered if you and the girls had plans this weekend?”

“Plans? Of course we’ve got plans. We always have plans. Plan central, that’s us.” I paused. “Why?”

“I’ve got tickets for a show in Cardiff, bloke in work bought them and now he can’t go so he gave them to me.”

“What show?”

“Mary Poppins. It’s meant to be spectacular.”

“Are you doing jazz hands?” I could tell he was doing jazz hands. I felt myself weakening. I loved Mary Poppins, he knew that of course.

“Maybe. So, what do you think?”

“I’d have to ask the girls.”

“Of course.”

“Because we have plans we’d need to change.”

“Understood.”

“Okay, well I’m almost home. Let me talk to the girls and we’ll give you a ring back.”

“Deal.”

By the time I arrived back in the village I’d planned our full itinerary. There was a lovely French place in the Bay where we could have food, maybe even sit outside if they had patio heaters. I’d have the beef. He’d have the fish. Just two old friends and their children having dinner together. It didn’t have to be awkward.

I opened the front door and listened for the sound of warfare. Hearing none I took that as a very good sign and headed towards the kitchen.

“Grace? Louise? I’m home.” I sang out in a cheery voice, all the exhaustion of the day swept away by the prospect of a fun day out in Cardiff.

By some minor miracle, not only were the girls not quarrelling, they were actually sitting together at the kitchen table eating toasted sandwiches. Even more miraculously, the kitchen countertops were clear of mess and almost sparkling.

“Who are you and what have you done with my children?”

They laughed obligingly and I listened as they filled me in on their respective days before telling them about their father’s invitation.

“Mary Poppins? Brilliant!” I knew Louise would be pleased but even Grace smiled and said it sounded like a laugh.

I was about to tell them about my ideas for dinner when the phone rang again. A glance at the screen told me it was Jonathan so I put him on speaker.

“Jonathan? Good timing. I’ve just told the girls. They’d love to come!”

The girls made a great display of gushing and saying all the right things and I could hear Jonathan laughing.

“Great! Well I’ve got to go now girls but I’ll see you tomorrow. Say around eleven?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll set an alarm.”

I smiled to myself. They both sounded so happy. I was glad the two of us could be grown up like this.

“Okay. Me and Tricia will be in the estate and it’ll be a late one so feel free to bring a pillow in case you want to snooze on the way home.”

Wait. Hang on. Who will be in the what now? My stomach lurched for the second time in less than an hour and I cursed myself for being so stupid.

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The following morning at eleven o’clock on the dot, Jonathan pulled up outside the house and, with a toot of his horn, called my two beautiful girls to him. I wanted to beg them to stay, to coerce them with promises of Christmas shopping, reminders of how much fun we'd have but of course I didn’t say a word. Instead, I plastered a smile on my face, kissed them goodbye, and waved until they were out of sight. Only then did I allow one solitary tear to fall down my cheek. Pity party over, I drowned my sorrows under a hot shower before making myself pancakes and bacon for breakfast. I wasn't much of a cook but pancakes with bacon was my signature dish.

After hoovering the house, reorganising the fridge and walking the dog, it wasn’t until the thought of decluttering my sock drawer made me smile that I realised I had to get out of the house. It would be hours before the girls were home and I was driving myself crazy. Driving aimlessly around the countryside just for the fun of it wasn’t really my style so I took a peek at my inbox in case there was anything new that could distract me and nearly danced for joy when I saw an email from a law firm in Cardiff asking me if I’d help them track a potential client. Like me, they worked on a no win no fee basis. Unlike me, they rarely took on a case before first getting the inside scoop. It wasn’t the most exciting gig in the world but it paid the mortgage and was just the distraction I needed to fill an otherwise empty Saturday.

As luck would have it, the address of the client in question was just around the corner from Bill Winkleman’s site. I didn’t expect to find any of them working on a Saturday but it wouldn’t hurt to snoop around a bit. I decked myself out in my plumbers issue polo shirt and combats and, after making a flask of coffee, headed to the van. Thanks to the sat nav on my phone I found the address easily. I pulled up a little way back from the house on the opposite side of the road and did my best to look invisible. Gone are the days of hiding behind broadsheets, peeking over the top when you think no-one is looking. Thanks to the law banning mobile phone use while driving, it was now easier than ever to sit at the side of any public road and be completely unapproachable, as long as you mastered the art of making fake phone calls. It could lead to a terrible case of arm ache but when it came to staking out a client’s house, there was nothing better.

After an hour of holding my phone to my face though, even I was starting to get a little restless. I’d also drained my flask and found myself in dire need of the little girl’s room. I thought lovingly of Bill’s office, certain that for a site of that size there had to be a toilet and without thinking, put the van into gear and headed straight there. Of course no one would be working, of course the toilets would almost certainly be locked for the weekend, but just in case, it didn’t hurt to try. The alternative was finding a large bush to squat behind and I definitely wasn’t dressed for that.

By the time I found my way back to the site and over to Bill’s portakabin, I almost wept with relief to see a few figures dotted around the site. I knocked on his door and walked in without waiting to be invited. Bill turned and looked surprised to see me.

“Ms Diamond. What a lovely surprise. Can I get you a …”

“Not coffee. Please don’t say coffee.” I fidgeted from foot to foot. “I know this is highly irregular but, any chance I could use your loo?”

Bill roared with laughter. “Of course. Follow me.” He led me to a bank of cubicles a short distance from his office. “Come back and see me when you’re done. I can make you that cuppa.”

When I walked into his office a few minutes later, Bill handed me a mug of coffee and led me in the direction of the comfy chairs.

“I didn’t expect to see you again today.”

“Honestly Bill, I didn’t expect to be here.” I thought of the cubicles outside. “Not that I’m not grateful. But why are you and the boys working on the weekend?”

“We need to get back on schedule.” Bill shrugged. “You know how it is. Things happen, little setbacks. Before you know it you’re six weeks behind schedule and you’ve got people breathing down your neck.” He smiled weakly.

“I imagine losing Toby Rogers hasn’t helped either.” I spoke gently, keen not to spook him.

Bill shook his head. “Toby’s a good lad. Damn shame.”

“What do you think’s happened to him? Strictly off the record.” I held up my hands to show they were empty. “No phone recording.”

Bill sighed and rubbed his temples. “I don’t know. I mean, you’d think after all this time there’d be something. It’s like he’s disappeared into thin air.”

“Abigail blames herself. Apparently he wasn’t well that day, when he came in. Don’t suppose you remember? Did he seem under the weather to you?”

“It’s hard to say. Working outside all day, place like this, there’s always a few coughs and sniffles.”

“But he didn’t say anything to you? Complain of a bad head?”

“No, nothing like that.” He sighed again. “Look, I might as well tell you now, you’re going to find out soon enough anyway.”

My belly tingled. I loved it when people said that. Feigning a look of calm personified I turned to face him. “Oh?”

“There’s a life insurance policy. He got it at a discount, one of the perks of the job.”

“How much?”

“Hundred grand.”

“Wow!” I hadn’t known building sites to be so lucrative.

“But no body, no payout. That’s the rules.”

A thought occurred to me. “Did Toby know the rules?” Before he could answer I had another thought. “Is that why Abigail wants me to find him?”

Bill frowned. “I didn’t say that. I just thought you needed to know what you were dealing with.” He stood up and took my empty mug. Our meeting was over. “But no, I doubt Toby would have known the specifics about the life insurance. It’s not the sort of thing you’d talk about.”

I shook his hand. “Thanks Bill. You’ve been very helpful.”

“You didn’t hear it from me.”

“Got it.” I was about to reassure him when my phone burst into life. “Sorry, let me just …” I was going to send the call to voicemail but when I saw it was Abigail calling I changed my mind.

“Good morning”

“Charlie, it’s me, Abigail. I need you to come round. There’s been a letter.” And before I could ask any more she burst into tears.

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I raced to the van and practically flew along the M4 back towards Abigail’s house, my mind racing as I drove. Ransom note? Death threats? Body parts? My stomach churned and I shook my head to banish that last thought. Goodness, I hoped not. The miles passed in a blur and I arrived at Abigail’s front door in record time. I'd barely finished knocking when the door opened.

“Charlie, come in.”

I followed Abigail into the kitchen, fearing the worst, and looked around. I couldn’t see any bloody fingers so that was something at least.

She'd been so distraught on the phone I didn't bother with pleasantries. “Where's the letter?”

“Letters,” Abigail said, correcting me. She pointed to the table where I saw two envelopes with little windows.

Windows on envelopes usually only meant one thing. Bills. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“They’re bank statements.” She reached over and pulled one out of an envelope and handed it to me. “Look at them.”

I glanced through the statement. There were quite a lot of transactions but she wasn’t in debt and I was still none the wiser.

“Look at the cash withdrawals. The locations.” She grabbed the statement from me and sighed. “Winslow. Barnstaple. Colchester. Where’s Colchester?!?”

“You mean you didn’t make these withdrawals?” Suddenly the penny dropped.

She shook her head. “Do I look like someone who has time to go skipping halfway across the country to withdraw money?”

“Any chance your card has been lost or stolen?”

“Nope. It’s right here.” She pulled her purse out of her bag and waved a debit card at me. “So if I didn’t make them, who did?”

That was a very good question.

“Do you think they’re holding him hostage? Making him take the money out in exchange for not …” Abigail clapped a hand over her mouth and started sobbing again.

“I don’t know. But if they are, they’ve just made a very big mistake.” I smiled at Abigail. “Look at it this way: this is the first real contact you’ve had for months.”

“You think he’s still alive?” She spoke in a whisper.

“I don’t know. But this is a good sign. It’s a trail to follow. What I need you to do now is take a deep breath, make us both a cuppa, and together we’ll go through this carefully, pick out the clues. Okay?”

She nodded, wiped her eyes and put the kettle on. That was one thing my mother was right about: there was nothing that couldn’t be faced so long as you had a cup of tea. I was more of a coffee girl of course, much to my mother’s fury, but the hot drink principle still stood. While Abigail made us a drink I took another look at the transactions. I could take an educated guess which were Abigail’s but going through them together would give her something to focus on. It also might get her talking. I needed to raise the subject of the life insurance, I just wanted to make sure I did it carefully.

We were close to finishing the second statement when my phone rang. It was Rob, hopefully with the information he’d promised me, but I wasn’t keen to have that conversation in front of Abigail.

“Rob, hi there. I’m just in the middle of something right now. Alright if I phone you back in about half an hour?”

Rob and I had been friends long enough for him to know that when I told him I was in the middle of something, it would serve him well to not ask questions so he agreed and I hung up.

“Sorry about that. One of my contacts but he can wait. It’s important we get these squared away first. Talking of which … I met with one of Toby’s work colleagues earlier. Was with him when you rang in fact. He mentioned something about life insurance. Has someone from his office been in touch with you about that?”

“Life insurance? For Toby? No? Should they have?”

I watched her carefully as she spoke and my gut told me she was telling the truth. “It’s not a problem, I don’t think they can do anything about it just now anyway. Just wondered if you’d heard from them.”

“No, nothing.”

“Not to worry then. Do me a favour would you? If they do call, tell me, okay?”

“Of course. Anything.” Abigail glanced down at the statements and when she looked up again she appeared puzzled. “Toby wasn’t paying into any life insurance policy. If he had been, it would have been on the bank statements wouldn’t it?”

“I’m not sure. I guess so. Honestly, don’t worry about it for now. I’m sure if it’s important someone will call you.”

All the same, I made a mental note to ask Bill about it the next time I saw him. It was entirely possible that Toby could have been paying into a scheme directly from his payslip. But why wouldn’t he have told his wife about it if he was? And hadn’t Mr James said Toby was a consultant? If that was the case, I wasn’t even sure if he’d have a payslip. Too many questions for my liking.

“Are you okay?” Abigail was looking at me with a strange expression on her face.

“Sure, why?”

“You were frowning. I thought maybe …”

“What?”

Abigail shook her head. “Nothing. Just reading too much into everything I guess. I always do that. One of my many faults.”

“No harm in reading people. I do it all the time, I have to.”

“Really?” Abigail sounded surprised.

“Of course. How else am I meant to tell the good guys from the baddies? You wouldn’t believe some of the people I meet doing this job.”

What I didn’t tell her was that the jury was still out on both her and her husband. If the innocent wife routine was all an act she was an incredible liar but I found it hard to accept that anyone could really be as happily in love as she claimed to be. I shook the thought from my head and, with a glance at the time, made my excuses. I needed to get home so I could phone Rob back. I couldn’t wait to hear what he’d found for me.

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“Sorry Charlie, I’m just in the middle of something right now. Can I phone you back?” I could hear laughter in Rob’s voice when he answered the phone.

“Don’t you dare!” I grinned. “So what have you got for me?” I got myself comfy on the sofa, Missy curled up against my legs, ready to listen.

“What, no ‘how are you?’ or ‘nice to hear from you’?”

“Ha ha! How are you? Nice to hear from you. Now tell me what I need to know!”

“Yes ma’am.” Rob chuckled. “I took a look at the file and it was just like I told you. Low risk. Nothing to go on. Case closed.”

“Did they search the house? Interview Abigail?”

“A couple of the uniform boys spoke to her, had a quick look round with her permission, but they drew a blank.”

“And that’s it?” I felt outraged on Abigail’s behalf. “A man goes missing and your lot just shrug your shoulders and go back to your coffee and doughnuts?” I leapt to my feet, sending poor Missy to the floor, and started pacing.

“Doughnuts? No-one here eats doughnuts. Talk about a cliché.” He laughed again.

“This isn’t funny Rob.”

“Tell me about it. Doughnuts are full of all sorts of nasties. It’s definitely not a joking matter.”

“Rob!”

“Look Charlie, what do you want me to say? The guy’s an adult. So what if he’s decided he wants a break for a little while? We can’t spend half the force budget looking for a man who clearly doesn’t want to be found.”

“And if he’s been kidnapped? Forcibly held against his will? Drugged and pushed into a moving van?”

“Show me some evidence and we can talk about it.”

I sighed. “I don’t have any evidence. But …”

“Then it’s case closed Charlie. Sorry, I want to help but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Humph!” I threw my phone onto the sofa and carried on pacing.

Nothing he could do my arse. He just didn’t want to ruffle any feathers or get himself in trouble. Too bad that there was a man out there who might need police help. Well if it was evidence he needed, I would damn well get him evidence. I pulled Abigail’s file out of my bag and started making detailed notes of everything that had happened that day. From Bill and our conversation about life insurance to Abigail and her mysterious bank transactions. If Abigail hadn’t made those withdrawals and her card hadn’t been stolen, someone was accessing their bank account. Whether it was Toby himself or someone who was holding him captive, if I could just get evidence that it wasn’t Abigail, that might be enough for Rob and his colleagues to start taking this more seriously. 

I started by plotting the distance between here and each of the three locations. Unless she’d made alternative arrangements for school pick up, there was no way Abigail could have made those withdrawals. I knew that of course, but I had to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt. It was then that I had my first flash of inspiration that day: CCTV.

Fifty-six minutes later I had to admit defeat. The Internet is a wonderful invention, opens doorways to experiences and makes this beautiful, big world of ours feel smaller. There are some things though you cannot do online. Accessing CCTV records is one of them. I thought it would be easy to find in the public domain but apparently financial institutions are a little bit reticent about giving out that kind of information to just anyone. I toyed with the idea of phoning Rob back, to see if the firm arm of the law might be able to apply a bit of pressure but decided against it. The next time I saw him I needed hard evidence and I definitely didn’t have that yet.

I glanced at the clock and was surprised to find it was only six o’clock. It was so dark and cold I’d convinced myself it had to be at least nine but maybe that was just wishful thinking. Would Louise and Grace be at the theatre now or still eating their pre-show dinner? I imagined that eventually I’d get used to sharing the girls with their dad but I wasn’t there yet. Every time they did anything without me the time dragged and I wasted my time wishing I could fast forward to the moment they’d be home again. At least today I’d been a bit productive, that had to be a good sign.

For the briefest of moments I considered phoning my mum. If nothing else her unrelenting criticism would serve as a distraction from the boredom but I talked myself out of it and instead opened a bottle of wine and ordered a takeaway. While I waited for the food to arrive I opened Abigail’s file again and looked at the list of towns where someone, maybe Toby himself, had withdrawn cash from the family bank account. There was only one thing for it I decided. I’d have to go and ask in branch about CCTV. Maybe someone would take pity on me and tell me what I needed to know.

Barnstaple looked to be the closest so I started planning a route along the M4, booked myself a room in the Travelodge, and packed an overnight bag. I wouldn’t go until Monday after the girls had gone to school and I still needed to arrange for one of the mums in the village to check in on them Tuesday morning but the thought of a road trip was exciting. I’d load my iPod with Christmas music and be like a solo Thelma and Louise, except without the attempted rape or murder or rubbish ending. On second thoughts, I should find myself a better pair of role models, I decided.

By the time my takeaway arrived I was feeling much more positive. The large glass of wine had done the trick and taken the edge of how much I was missing the girls and I was starting to relax. I was just thinking that maybe this co-parenting lark wasn’t so bad after all when a text message arrived from Rob. You okay grumpy? I was far too chilled to dignify his message with a response so instead I poured myself another glass of wine and thought about my trip. I still had my doubts about Abigail but the more Rob pushed me, the more determined I was to prove that Toby Rogers hadn’t vanished out of choice. I crossed my fingers that Barnstaple would hold some answers for me.

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Less than two days later I pulled into a car park in the middle of Barnstaple and headed towards the bank. I stood next to the cash machine and tried to imagine Toby Rogers standing in this very spot. It was a fairly nondescript town and I couldn't understand what would bring him here. If it actually was him of course, that still remained to be seen. I looked around and couldn’t see any cameras but that didn’t mean there weren’t any so I went inside to see what information I could charm out of one of the members of staff.

I’d just walked in when my phone rang. Rob, yet again. I’d been ignoring him since Saturday afternoon but now I was here and he couldn't talk me out of it I decided it wouldn't hurt to speak to him.

“Where are you?” He sounded furious.

“Hello Rob. Nice to hear from you.”

“I know you're not home, I’ve been there …”

“You were at my house? Are you stalking me?” I laughed to take the edge off.

“You weren’t answering your phone. Did you get my texts?”

“Yes, but I am a grown-up. Besides, you wouldn’t have believed me. Then you’d have tried to stop me.”

I heard Rob sigh. “Where are you? If you’ve locked yourself out of your house again …”

“One time, that happened one time. If you must know, I’m in Barnstaple.”

“Barnstaple? How did you get there?”

“I drove. It’s quite pretty. Flat, but pretty.” I glanced up to see a lady watching me. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’m in the bank. I’ll call you when I’m done. Bye for now.” I did my best to sound cheery and kind, just in case the lady could hear me.

When the phone was safely on silent in the bottom of my bag I headed in her direction.

“Good morning madam. How may I help you this morning?” She smiled and I was reminded of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland.

“Hi there. I was hoping to speak with the manager. It’s a bit of a delicate situation.”

I showed her my card and watched as she spoke to one of her colleagues. They kept their voices low and glanced at me occasionally as they spoke. Just as I was about to give up all hope, the first lady returned.

“Miss Jeffries will help you.” She led me towards a small office partitioned off with a glass wall where the second lady was waiting for me.

She stood when I walked in and shook my hand. “Annabel Jeffries. Please, take a seat. How can I help?”

I pulled a photo of Toby out of my folder and showed it to her. “Do you recognise this man?”

She looked carefully but then shook her head. “Can’t say I do. Should I? Is he local?”

“His name’s Toby. He’s been missing since June.”

“Oh that’s terrible!”

“His wife’s hired me to find him. Or …” I hesitated. “Find out what happened to him.”

“You mean you think he’s …”

“Possibly. It’s too soon to tell. But we have one lead, which is why I’m here.”

I told her about the mystery transactions, explained how far I’d travelled to get this information today, even mentioned Toby’s beautiful wife and two dear children but no matter what I said, Annabel’s answer was the same. “I’m afraid we don’t have CCTV. Such a small town, we’ve never needed it.”

I was about to admit defeat when she said five words that filled my heart with hope. “Have you tried the council?”

Half an hour later I was sitting in another office in another part of town, crossing my fingers and hoping. A pilot CCTV system was in operation in some parts of Barnstaple. Low key and completely under the radar of most of the town’s population, the local council were secretly worried about an increase in anti-social behaviour, hence the CCTV. I smiled when the sincere looking man in front of me spoke. It was clear he loved the town and took any slights against its reputation very personally. He introduced himself as Steve, council employee for the last nineteen years, he told me proudly. I shook his hand and did my best to look suitably impressed. Pleasantries over with, I pulled the folder from my bag, took one of my cards out to give to him, and got ready with my best interrogation face on. I pressed the button to start the voice recorder on my phone and cleared my throat.

“So Steve, do you have any cameras in …” I looked down at my notes. “Queen Street. Near the bank?”

“Ah now that’s an interesting question. What you really need is Boutport Street but …”

I felt my eyes glazing over as he spoke. I didn’t care who was at which meeting when a decision was finally voted on. It didn’t matter to me that Mr whoever objected on whatever grounds. I just wanted a simple yes or no.

“Let me stop you there Steve. Do you have cameras on the junction between Queen Street and Boutport Street?”

“Yes.”

“That’s brilliant! Can I see it?”

I was so excited, I was amazed he couldn’t hear the blood rushing through my ears. They had CCTV. I could prove with actual concrete evidence that the person using the cash machine to make the withdrawal was Toby. If not Toby, at the very least I could prove that it wasn’t Abigail. That had to be grounds enough for Rob and his colleagues to put some weight behind my investigation. I was so caught up in congratulating myself on another job well done, it took me a moment to register Steve’s reply.

He shook his head solemnly. “No.”

Oh. “That’s disappointing Steve.” I showed him my card again. “Did I mention that there’s a wife at home in South Wales missing her husband? Would be lovely to see them reunited in time for Christmas, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure that would be quite delightful Ms Diamond, family is important, but the Protection of Freedoms Act exists for a reason. We are not beyond reproach.”

“I understand but …”

“No buts Ms Diamond.”

“And there are no exceptions to be made? Under any circumstances?” I crossed my fingers under the desk and gave him what I hoped was a winning smile.

He looked at the floor, at his watch, at the door, anywhere other than at me. The silence was deafening. “Well, there could be one exception. But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

My stomach lurched. “Go on?”

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I walked into my hotel room, dumped my bag and keycard onto the dressing table and threw myself onto the bed. This trip was definitely not working out the way it was meant to. Not only had I still not been able to access the CCTV footage from outside the bank, according to council jobsworth Steve my only hope now of doing so involved going back to Rob, cap in hand, asking for his help. Not only was it frustrating, it was downright bloody unfair! Just because he had an official badge, as if that made him any more trustworthy than me, it was a joke.

Logically I knew that the rules were only there to protect people, that anyone could print themselves a business card and set up shop as an investigator but logic didn’t come into it right now when those same rules were stopping me from doing my job. I was so wound up, I toyed with the idea of getting back in the van and driving all the way home. I wanted to see my daughters, I wanted to sleep in my own bed, and I definitely wanted to leave this dump of a town far behind me. If Toby really had come here he was crazy and maybe it was better if he stayed disappeared. Abigail was too nice a girl to be shackled with a crazy man for a husband. I’d be doing her a favour.

Slowly my racing pulse slowed to a gentle meander and I could feel myself relaxing. I replayed the events of the day over in my mind and thought about Abigail. There was still so much about her I didn’t know. She felt like an enigma. I wanted to pick her up and examine her from all sides under a microscope, to find out what really made her tick. Only then, I felt, would I have any hope of finding her missing husband. And I meant what I’d said to Steve, I really did want to reunite them in time for Christmas, if such a happy ending were still possible.

My phone rang. I looked at the screen, saw it was Rob, and immediately sent it to voicemail. If it was important he’d leave a message. A couple of minutes later my phone pinged with a text message. Rob, again. Answer the phone or I’m calling your mother. I couldn’t help but smile. I waited for the phone to ring again and this time I answered it.

“What are we, five?” I adopted a baby voice. “I’m telling mummy!”

“Well you wouldn’t answer the phone, again. And you said you’d phone me back. That was hours ago.” 

“I’ve been busy Rob. Things to do, people to see.”

“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing in Barnstaple?”

As much as I didn’t want to ask him for help, I knew Rob could sidestep the rules in a way I’d never be able to, not unless I joined the job. I shook the thought away. Never going to happen.

“If I tell you, will you help me?”

“Depends what you’re doing. But if you don’t tell me, I definitely won’t be able to help you.”

“Abigail’s bank statements showed cash withdrawals from several weird locations. Places she’s never been to.”

“Let me guess. One of the was Barnstaple?”

I nodded and then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yep.”

“So you drove all the way there, for what? To prove a point?”

“To get footage from CCTV, showing that it wasn’t Abigail at the cash machine.”

“What good would that have done?”

“If I can prove she didn’t take the money, it means he might have done. And then you can stop bleating about him being low risk and actually move your arse and do something helpful. Track his phone. Alert other divisions.” I stopped talking when I heard him laughing. “What’s so bloody funny?!?”

“I can’t believe you drove all the way to Devon to prove that a man who is allegedly missing isn’t actually missing at all.”

“That’s not what I said. If he took the money then …”

“If he withdrew the money, and by the sounds of things, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he did, then it only proves what I’ve been telling you all along. There’s no case here. Leave the guy alone. If he wants to stay missing, let him.”

“But what about his wife?”

“What about her?”

“She misses him. Worries about him. Wants him home with her and the kids.”

“Aren’t you the one who told me you didn’t believe in all her ‘happily ever after’ nonsense?”

“Yes but …”

“And didn’t you just tell me she couldn’t have travelled all the way there to withdraw the money?”

“Probably not but …”

“So do yourself a favour, go back to your client and tell her there’s no case. You’re a private investigator Charlie, not her bloody social worker. If she needs a shoulder to cry on because her husband’s too spineless to dump her properly that’s not your problem.”

“You’re impossible!” I could feel myself getting wound up again.

“I’m just being pragmatic. You know I’m right, you wouldn’t be reacting like this if you didn’t.”

I didn’t want him to be right, he couldn’t be, and if he’d actually met Abigail he’d know why I was determined to prove it. I’d had my doubts about her and I wasn’t ready to buy into her brand of happy ending but there was definitely something fishy about this whole case and I was ready to find out what. I took a deep breath to calm my voice before I spoke again.

“Thanks for your input Rob, always appreciated.”

“You’re going to completely ignore me and look for him anyway, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“And when you prove me wrong you’re going to expect me to buy you dinner so you can rub my nose in it?”

“I was thinking lunch but sure, dinner sounds delightful. Bye Rob.”

I hung up, pulled Abigail’s file and a pen from my bag, and started making notes. I had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

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The following morning dawned bright and clear. It was the kind of day that would normally see me itching to get outside with Missy but she was nearly two hundred miles away and I’d woken with a pain in my neck from falling asleep sitting up. The bed was covered with the litter of late night note taking and I just had to hope I’d still be able to read my own handwriting the morning after the night before. My tummy rumbled and I knew the very first thing on the agenda would have to be breakfast but not before phoning home to check on the girls.

The phone rang five times before Grace finally answered. “Hello?”

“Hi Grace it’s me, mum. How are you doing?”

“Why’d you tell Sophie’s mum to check on us? We’re not kids!”

I sighed. We’d been over this before. “That’s not strictly true. You’re sixteen.”

“And old enough to look after ourselves. Even Louise thinks so. Don’t you?”

I heard noise in the background which I could only assume was Louise voicing her discontent.

“Never mind about that. I just wanted to see how you both are?”

“We’re fine. Missy’s fine. Everyone is fine.” I could tell from the tone of her voice that Grace was already tired of this conversation. “Do you want to speak to Lou?”

“Sure.” I listened as the phone was passed to her sister. “Hi Louise. How are you?”

“Hi Mum. Yeah, all good. When are you coming home?”

“Today. I just need to make a few enquires here but I should be back in time for dinner.”

We said our goodbyes with them promising to be good and me promising to take them out for food as a welcome home treat, then I got showered and dressed and ready to check out. Half an hour later I had my stuff safely stored in the van and I was back in the town centre. I might not have got the answer I wanted from the town’s CCTV but I’d decided last night that my trip didn’t have to be a complete waste of time. If Toby had used the cash point here, there had to be a reason for his visit and if he’d called into one of the local businesses, I was determined to find out about it.

My first stop was the library and as I walked into the red brick building I tried to imagine Toby here before me. I wandered around, looking for someone to introduce myself to and accidentally walked in on what appeared to be story time. The small group of children looked totally absorbed by the lady sitting in front of them while a collection of parents, mostly mums, sat behind them enjoying the peace and quiet.

“Can I help you?”

I turned and saw a smiley looking lady in a Christmas jumper looking at me. She spoke in hushed tones and seemed keen not to disrupt the storytelling session in progress.

“Hi. Yes. I hope so. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

When we were away from the children’s library she turned to me, smile still in place. “So how can I help?”

I took Toby’s photograph out of my bag. “I just wondered if you might have seen this man?” I pulled my card from my bag and handed it to her. “I’m Charlie Diamond, a private investigator. My client, this man’s wife, is very worried about him.”

“And you think he might have been in here? You don’t sound local.”

I smiled. “We think he might have visited Barnstaple in the last couple of weeks, made some cash withdrawals, so I’m speaking to as many local businesses as I can, just in case anyone remembers seeing him.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t recognise him at all. I can ask my colleagues if you like?”

“If you could that would be great. I’ll leave you my card and his photo. Give me a ring if you see him or if anyone remembers him.”

After thanking the lady for her time, I headed outside and followed the same routine in some of the smaller independent shops. When that too drew a blank I found my way to the shopping centre and started asking in some of the shops in there. With every shake of the head and negative reply I started to feel a little less hopeful. I couldn’t believe he’d have come all the way here only to use a cash machine but if he’d spoken to anyone, it was clear he’d been totally and completely forgettable.

I’d given myself a deadline of noon, I had to get back home in time for dinner, so at five past twelve I admitted defeat and started the journey back towards Wales. I’d not been on the road long when my tummy starting complaining again and I realised I’d forgotten all about breakfast. The golden glow of the yellow arches on the outskirts of the town drew me in like a beacon. I looked at the clock and made a quick calculation. Ten minutes for a bit of food wouldn’t make or break my schedule so I pulled in and ordered myself a Big Mac meal with a coffee.

“Eat in or takeaway?” The young lad behind the counter sounded bored.

I looked around the restaurant and saw a table with a half decent view. “Eat in please.”

When my food was ready I took it to the table I’d spied earlier and got myself settled. Fries in the lid of the Big Mac box and a little pot of tomato ketchup to dip and I was all set. As I ate I flicked through Abigail’s folder and settled on the picture of Toby. It had been taken on New Years Eve, Abigail had told me. He was wearing one of those ridiculous Christmas jumpers and was laughing into the camera.

“Awww, sweetheart of yours?”

I looked up to see a middle-aged woman peering over my shoulder as she cleaned a nearby table.

“Um, not exactly.”

“Complicated is it?”

I smiled. “Something like that.” I hesitated but then thought better of it. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him around here have you?”

The woman roared with laughter. “So complicated you’ve only gone and lost him eh?” She looked at the photo. “Oh, that’s Jim.”

“Excuse me?”

She leaned in to look more closely. “Looks just like Jim. Worked here for a few weeks. Dunno what happened to him. Was nice but one day he didn’t come in. Not seen him since.”

My heart was thundering in my ears. I took a deep breath. “Any chance I could speak to the manager?”

“Sure. I’ll see if I can find him.” She started to walk away but then turned back to me. “Have I said something wrong?”

“No, not at all. You’ve been really helpful.”

I knew a forwarding address would be too much to hope for but this was the closest I’d come to a break all week and I wasn’t about to let it slip away.

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When the bored looking lad from behind the counter came and sat opposite me at the table I wanted to laugh. If he was the manager then I was on the fast train to crazy. The contents of my fruit bowl had more personality than this kid.

“Hi I’m Ryan. Beth said you wanted to speak to me.”

“You’re the manager?” I tried to keep the disbelief out of my voice.

“Duty manager, yep.” He pointed to his name badge with its five gold stars on the front.

I showed him the photo of Toby. “Do you know this man?”

I watched him for a twitch of recognition but he looked at the photo for the briefest of seconds then looked away. “Nope, can’t say I do. Sorry.”

“Are you sure? Would you look again please?”

“What’s this about? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

“You don’t know him so I can’t tell you.” I took a bite of my burger and waited, the photo on the table between us, slowly counting to ten in my head. When I got to six he picked up the photo and looked at it again, studying it more intently this time.

“It’s Jim.” He sounded sad, disappointed.

Bingo! “Jim? Hmm, that’s interesting. How do you know him?”

“He was sleeping on my sofa. Got him a job here too. Look, what’s all this about?”

I gave him the short version of the story and waited to see if he could tell me any more. “Have you seen him recently?”

“No. Not for weeks. Got a bit of stick actually. When he didn’t turn up they blamed me.”

“Sorry to hear that. And he didn’t leave a forwarding address? Phone number?”

“Nothing. If I knew anything I’d tell you. I swear.”

I nodded. “It’s okay. I believe you. Can I take your name and contact details? And I’ll leave you my card. If he shows up again, ring me right away.” I pointed to my number on the card.

He wrote his address and mobile number in my notebook then went back to his position behind the counter. I watched him as I finished my burger and saw his eyes flick to me. I looked at the time on my phone. If I wanted to keep my promise to Louise I really needed to be heading home but I was torn. I’d come all this way. What I really wanted to do now was knock on a few doors around Ryan’s place, see if anyone remembered Toby. It seemed like madness to go home now when I was a little bit closer to finding him. 

I checked for travel updates on my phone. The road was moving smoothly, if a little snarled in the usual places, and based on current conditions, I could expect to be home in a little over three hours. Dinner time was relatively flexible, I decided, so after finishing my food, I got in the van and headed back towards Barnstaple.

The address Ryan had given me was for a bottom floor flat. I pressed the buzzer, not expecting any reply but trying anyway, just in case. When that didn’t rouse anyone I tried the top flat but still no one answered. Lunchtime on a Tuesday might not be the best time to find people home but it was all I had so I knocked on the house next door and was rewarded by the sight of an elderly looking lady. I showed her Toby’s photo and crossed my fingers.

“Sorry dear, I don’t see no-one without me specs.”

“And you live on your own? No family with you? Regular visitors?” 

She was ancient enough looking, I couldn’t imagine she ran the whole house single-handedly. There had to be people coming and going and I wanted to know if one of them might have seen something.

“Just me and Peg.”

“Peg?”

“Me cat. Me ol’ man, God rest his soul, passed on years ago.”

“And you’ve been here on your own ever since?” At another time, under different circumstances, this was the sort of lady I’d love to sit and natter with. The stories she’d tell, oral history at its very best, but this was now and I had work to do. I thanked her for her time, gave her my card and tried the house on the other side of Ryan’s flat. 

“They’re at work dear. Won’t get no joy there I’m afraid.”

I looked over to see my new friend still watching me and had an idea. I walked down the little path, out the gate and back up the path to her house. “If I left you a copy of his photo, would you show it to them? Ask if they’ve seen him around?”

“You mean like your side-kick?” Her face lit up when she said this.

I smiled. “If you like.” I leaned in and whispered. “It would need to be our little secret though.”

“Of course.” She looked a little indignant. “What do you take me for?”

I didn’t know how to answer that so I said nothing. Instead I gave her the photo of Toby and thanked her again for her help. She took the glasses that were hanging round her neck, put them on, and turned my card over in her fingers.

“Charlie Diamond?”

“That’s me,” I said with a smile.

“What sort of a name is that? Is that your real name dear?”

I felt my face flush. “Well it’s actually Charlotte, but only my mum calls me that.”

“Charlotte. Such a pretty name.”

“Doesn’t really suit my image as the smart investigator though.”

She laughed at that. “I suppose not. Well Charlie Diamond, leave it with me. I’ll ask next door, might even pop across the street. The old fella there is always home and his eyes are a damned sight better than mine. If this chap of yours turns up, we’ll know about it.”

I decided against explaining that he wasn’t my chap and instead simply thanked her. I left Barnstaple feeling a lot more positive than I had an hour ago, certain as I was that if Toby did indeed come back, I was sure to be alerted. All I could do now was go home and hope my SWAT team of elderlies came through for me.

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Several hours and one uneventful journey later, I made my way through the village. Not for the first time, I thought about how glad I was we’d ended up here. Gloddfa Bont could be a bit invasive, it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret for long, but the people were kind and it felt like home. I couldn’t imagine leaving my two teenage daughters to fend for themselves in Cardiff but here it was like the most natural thing in the world to ask one of the neighbours to check in on them, even if the girls thought it was totally unnecessary.  I parked the van in front of our house and was glad to see the lights on. We’d not decorated for Christmas yet but there was a warm glow from the lamp in the front room. It was good to be home. I turned the key, giving the door its customary shove, and waited to see who’d greet me first.

“Hello? I’m home!”

Missy came rushing into the hallway, almost falling over her own feet in her excitement. I gave her a fuss, laughed as she danced around in circles, then headed into the kitchen to find Louise and Grace sat together at the table, heads together over a phone. I wanted to hold that moment in my mind forever, a picture of happiness in stark contrast to our usual reality.

Louise saw me first and she leapt up. “Mum! Hello!” She gave me a kiss and we exchanged hugs.

Grace looked up and nodded her head in my direction. “Hello.”

“Hiya Gracie.” She offered me the side of her head and I planted a kiss on it. “You okay?”

“Yep. We were just looking at lights for the tree.” She pointed at her phone.

I turned to Louise and gave her a look.

“Christmas tree lights,” she explained. “Thought it was about time we got a bit festive. Did you see lights on The Bont on your way up? They look amazing!”

I had to smile. Every year they did this. I’d pretend I didn’t want us to make too much fuss and they’d totally ignore me and decorate our home like it was the local pub with streamers hanging from every visible beam, fairy lights round the fireplace and a nine foot Christmas tree in the front room window. Secretly I loved it but I knew that if I didn’t play along it would completely ruin their fun.

I put the kettle on then delivered my expected line. “Are we sure we want to bother this year? Maybe we should tone things down a bit?”

“No way!”

“Oh Mum!”

They rolled their eyes at me and I laughed. “Okay, okay, if you’re sure. Speaking of The Bont, how do you two fancy nipping in there for dinner tonight?”

“On a Tuesday? Are you sure you want to after what happened last week?” Louise asked.

“I’ll stick to water tonight. Been such a long drive, even the one glass of wine’ll probably tip me over the edge!”

It was at times like this that I missed being part of a couple. The girls were great but it wasn’t like them to ask how my journey was or if it had been a worthwhile trip. There was no-one to commiserate with when things were tricky and when I had a breakthrough on a case, it ended up being a celebration for one. I thought about ringing Rob but he’d made it clear how he felt about my case. The last thing I needed was him twisting this latest development to prove yet again that he was right and I was wrong.

“How hungry are you? Have I got time for a quick shower before we go?”

They could wait, they told me, so I headed upstairs to freshen up. I’d just stepped under the shower when I heard the phone ring. After a couple of rings though it stopped and I smiled, one of the girls must have got it. I took my time, thankful that the days of having to go running down the stairs dripping wet to answer the phone were long gone.

Twenty minutes later I was all scrubbed up and ready to go. I practically skipped downstairs, the prospect of an evening with my girls giving me a burst of energy. Grace was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs and when I saw her face I wanted to disappear back upstairs.

“That was Gran.”

My heart sunk. “What did she want?”

“Dinner, tomorrow.”

“And you told her we were busy?” Please say yes, please say yes.

“Sorry Mum. She caught me off guard. I couldn’t think of anything to say.”

“Cleaning the oven, plucking my eyebrows, bathing the dog? Any of the above?” I smiled. I couldn’t be cross with her, I knew how tricky my mother could be. “Don’t worry about it. What time does she want us?”

“Six. Can I stay here?”

“You’re kidding right?” I laughed. “You’ve got about as much chance of skipping dinner with Gran as I have of winning the lottery.”

“But you don’t even do the lottery Mum.”

“I don’t fancy your chances then.”

Grace pulled a face.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who said yes. Anyway, forget about it for now. Let’s go.”

I grabbed my keys and purse and followed my daughters outside and down the road towards our friendly village pub. I watched them as they walked together, counting the Christmas lights on our neighbour’s houses as they went. They’d been playing the same game for years. Each picked a side of the road, the crown being awarded to whoever picked the side with the most lights. And yes, the lights had to be switched on and, no, multiple sets of lights on the same house didn’t count more than once. The competition was fierce but good-humoured and I didn’t think I’d ever tire of watching them play. Thoughts of Christmas inevitably brought Abigail front of mind. After a good night’s sleep in my own bed I was determined to get straight back to work. First stop, Abigail’s house.

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