what he was doing.
He walked down Matthew Street, the various bars on either side of the walkway already filling up. A few tourists milling around outside the Cavern Club, getting their pictures taken with the John Lennon statue. For a Saturday evening it was still pretty quiet. The grey paved street not filled with wandering drunks just yet.
He walked further down, towards the club Carla had told him they’d ended the night in. Grim, faceless. Just a garish neon sign outside. The club wasn’t open, so he rapped on the door.
Rob rocked on his heels as he waited. A minute or so went by and he was about to knock again, when the door opened.
‘Yeah?’
A thick-necked, shaven-headed beast of a man stood in the open doorway. Rob took a step back. ‘Hi, were you working here last night?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘My girlfriend has gone missing, I was just wondering if you’d seen anything.’
The bouncer looked around. ‘Yeah, I was here last night. But a lot of people come in and out of here, I probably won’t be able to help you. You should ring the police or something.’
Rob took out his wallet, removing the small picture he had of Jemma inside. ‘Do you remember her?’
The bouncer looked at the photo, his brow furrowed. ‘I think I do as it happens. She left on her own, about two. She was on her phone. She walked off towards the top.’ He gestured towards the top of Matthew Street.
‘Did you hear her talking at all, where she might have been going?’
He shook his head in reply. ‘Sorry I can’t be any more help. I hope you find her.’
Rob thanked him and wandered back to his car. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. He needed that list. He started driving towards home. He called Helen at the house, glad to find she’d gone there as he’d asked. He turned on the radio, looking for some music to try and clear his mind of the images which threatened to enter. He found the local radio station, but it played that shite dance music and Rob quickly scanned past it. He settled on easy listening.
Focus. That’s what he needed to do. Decide on a plan of action and start doing something.
He started at the beginning. Jemma had been out with her friend Carla. So start there. He turned right instead of left on the road out of the town centre, and drove towards her house.
Carla had married Andy the previous year, in what Rob had described as a fuck of an expensive party, much to Jemma’s distaste. She’d loved the whole spectacle of it.
Should have noticed that. All her friends were married. She always seemed happy, but why hadn’t he wanted to make things more permanent?
He pulled up outside Carla’s house around ten minutes later. He checked the dashboard clock, almost eight in the evening. A quick pang of hunger hit him as he got out the car. He hadn’t eaten since earlier in the day, when he’d made a sandwich and taken two bites of it before throwing it out.Too nervous. The thought of eating anything at that moment was enough to start his stomach churning again. Rob tried to shake the feeling off as he approached the door of the terraced house on the quiet street. They’d moved there recently. New baby, new house. Always the way.
As he reached for the doorbell, he stopped and knocked softly, mindful of their newborn. Thirty seconds later and he knocked again, a little louder. Andy opened the door, a tea towel over his shoulder, his hands still wet.
‘Rob. Come on in, mate. I was just washing some dishes.’ Rob wiped his feet on the doormat and closed the door after himself. He followed Andy into the living room, where Carla was sitting with her feet underneath her on a leather sofa, watching some reality show on TV. She wasn’t stunning, but Carla was nice looking in an understated way. Smaller than Jemma, brunette instead of blonde. Small in stature, but big on confidence. Sometimes that can go a long way. Sometimes, only on the odd occasion he needed something a bit different
He walked down Matthew Street, the various bars on either side of the walkway already filling up. A few tourists milling around outside the Cavern Club, getting their pictures taken with the John Lennon statue. For a Saturday evening it was still pretty quiet. The grey paved street not filled with wandering drunks just yet.
He walked further down, towards the club Carla had told him they’d ended the night in. Grim, faceless. Just a garish neon sign outside. The club wasn’t open, so he rapped on the door.
Rob rocked on his heels as he waited. A minute or so went by and he was about to knock again, when the door opened.
‘Yeah?’
A thick-necked, shaven-headed beast of a man stood in the open doorway. Rob took a step back. ‘Hi, were you working here last night?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘My girlfriend has gone missing, I was just wondering if you’d seen anything.’
The bouncer looked around. ‘Yeah, I was here last night. But a lot of people come in and out of here, I probably won’t be able to help you. You should ring the police or something.’
Rob took out his wallet, removing the small picture he had of Jemma inside. ‘Do you remember her?’
The bouncer looked at the photo, his brow furrowed. ‘I think I do as it happens. She left on her own, about two. She was on her phone. She walked off towards the top.’ He gestured towards the top of Matthew Street.
‘Did you hear her talking at all, where she might have been going?’
He shook his head in reply. ‘Sorry I can’t be any more help. I hope you find her.’
Rob thanked him and wandered back to his car. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. He needed that list. He started driving towards home. He called Helen at the house, glad to find she’d gone there as he’d asked. He turned on the radio, looking for some music to try and clear his mind of the images which threatened to enter. He found the local radio station, but it played that shite dance music and Rob quickly scanned past it. He settled on easy listening.
Focus. That’s what he needed to do. Decide on a plan of action and start doing something.
He started at the beginning. Jemma had been out with her friend Carla. So start there. He turned right instead of left on the road out of the town centre, and drove towards her house.
Carla had married Andy the previous year, in what Rob had described as a fuck of an expensive party, much to Jemma’s distaste. She’d loved the whole spectacle of it.
Should have noticed that. All her friends were married. She always seemed happy, but why hadn’t he wanted to make things more permanent?
He pulled up outside Carla’s house around ten minutes later. He checked the dashboard clock, almost eight in the evening. A quick pang of hunger hit him as he got out the car. He hadn’t eaten since earlier in the day, when he’d made a sandwich and taken two bites of it before throwing it out.Too nervous. The thought of eating anything at that moment was enough to start his stomach churning again. Rob tried to shake the feeling off as he approached the door of the terraced house on the quiet street. They’d moved there recently. New baby, new house. Always the way.
As he reached for the doorbell, he stopped and knocked softly, mindful of their newborn. Thirty seconds later and he knocked again, a little louder. Andy opened the door, a tea towel over his shoulder, his hands still wet.
‘Rob. Come on in, mate. I was just washing some dishes.’ Rob wiped his feet on the doormat and closed the door after himself. He followed Andy into the living room, where Carla was sitting with her feet underneath her on a leather sofa, watching some reality show on TV. She wasn’t stunning, but Carla was nice looking in an understated way. Smaller than Jemma, brunette instead of blonde. Small in stature, but big on confidence. Sometimes that can go a long way. Sometimes, only on the odd occasion he needed something a bit different
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