Read Online Gone Again by Doug Johnstone - Free Book Online

tepid now. He thought about what Ruth had said. Did she really not know what William had been doing? For that matter, did Lauren really not remember until therapy? What if one or both of them had known earlier, before William went missing. He pictured William’s decomposed body, face down in the water at Portmore, and felt a shiver move through him.
    ‘There’s something else,’ Ruth said.
    ‘What?’
    ‘I wasn’t entirely truthful when I said that I hadn’t heard from Lauren since Nathan’s birthday. That was the last time I saw her, but she phoned me more recently.’
    ‘When?’
    ‘Two weeks ago.’ Ruth was looking out the window again, avoiding him. ‘She told me she was pregnant. It was after the scan. She said she was having a baby girl and wanted me to know. She said she was worried.’
    Mark moved his hands from the mug to the edge of the table, straightened up.
    ‘Why didn’t you say anything before?’
    ‘She told me not to.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘This isn’t easy.’
    ‘Tell me.’
    Ruth turned to look him in the eye. ‘She said she was worried that she was having a daughter. Specifically a daughter.’
    It took a second for Mark to click. ‘She thought I might do something to my own daughter?’
    Ruth shook her head. ‘She never said that. It wasn’t rational, she wasn’t thinking straight. It was just dark thoughts. Consider what it must be like for her. No one wants to have doubts about their husband, God help me, I know all about that. But after everything she went through with her father, you can’t blame her.’
    Mark rubbed at his face. ‘I can’t believe it.’
    Now it was Ruth’s turn to put out a hand to Mark. He shrugged it off.
    ‘She never doubted you for a second,’ Ruth said.
    Mark pushed his chair back and stood up.
    ‘Wait, Mark, don’t go just yet. We need to talk about this.’
    ‘No, we don’t,’ Mark said, and headed for the door.

11
    His Peugeot rocked in the wind as he thrust the clutch in at the lights and wrestled the gear stick into first. Gearbox was sticking more and more. The cost of keeping it on the road getting ever higher.
    Into Porty High Street, Mark checked the clock on the police station. Five minutes to park and get Nathan. He turned down Bath Street rather than Marlborough Street to save time, then met a Tesco van coming the other way and had to pull in. Come on, for Christ’s sake.
    He got to the bottom of the street, no spaces. Into Straiton Place, eventually he found a place almost at Marlborough Street. Locked up and scuttled along the prom in a half-jog. To his right, the coastguard boat was out again, further from shore this time, only a smudge on the horizon. Maybe the whales weren’t doomed after all. Weren’t they supposed to be more intelligent than humans?
    A sudden drop in the wind and he heard the school bell ring. He was almost there. Round the corner, out of breath, he joined the gaggle of mums in the playground. The classroom door wasn’t open yet. He bent over and heaved air into his lungs. Too old for this shit.
    The 2B door opened. Nathan was always one of the first to leave. Not today. Mark scanned the kids streaming out, a mess of red uniforms, untucked shirts, lunchboxes and bags swinging. It was like opening the doors of the asylum as the playground filled with yammering noise.
    Still no Nathan. Mark clenched his fists and took a step forward. Closed his eyes and opened them again. And there he was, last out, trudging, not the usual sprint, his bottom lip tripping him.
    ‘Hey, Big Guy, what’s up?’
    ‘Miss Kennedy wants to speak to you.’ Tears were filling his eyes.
    Mark went down on his haunches and examined the boy. Gave him a cuddle.
    ‘It’s OK, don’t worry.’
    Nathan hadn’t got into full-on crying, just a sniffle. Mark stood up and took his hand.
    ‘Come on, let’s go and chat to Miss Kennedy.’
    The teacher stood at the classroom door, arms crossed, biting her lip.
    ‘A quick word,’ she said,