Chapter 9

Suzanne and Steve, Lucy’s husband, had never really got on well. She had paid lip service and he had been polite, but they didn’t see eye to eye much. Apart from that she knew sometimes he had been a bit too rough with Lucy. Nothing so brutal that she’d done anything about it. Nothing that had taken her to A&E or caused her to cover a black eye with makeup but she’d had bruises on her arms which were too much like the grip of too tight finer tips than to be anything else. There was a red dress, a favourite of Lucy’s that he had thought too revealing and Suzanne had seen it in the kitchen bin ripped apart at the seams. Lucy had a story about putting on weight, which wasn’t true. The glint of tears as she bundled the ruined garment into a bin bag said more than anything else.

Now he was adamant, he wasn’t involving the police. He didn’t see any need to have their dirty washing aired in public and she’d be back when she got over her strop.

It didn’t matter how hard she tried, Suzanne couldn’t move him. “Well, you can please yourself. I’m going to see them. Two of my friends have vanished and I’m worried about both of them,” she’d said.

“You keep my wife’s name out of it. If you want to go off spreading tales and making yourself look hysterical carry-on, but you leave us right out of it. If I have the buzzies knocking on my door, I’ll know who to blame.”

He was throwing bags and shoes into the boot of his car. Suzanne had been horrified when he’d said that he was going back to Newcastle for work.

“But how can you? You don’t know where Lucy is. How can you just go off.”

“She’s got my number and she knows where I stay up there. I have to work and some stroppy woman in a huff isn’t going to stop me. As for your other friend, Jenny,”


“Whatever, she’s just a taker. The pair of you ferrying her around and doing her cleaning for her.”

“She’s not well.”

“Aye, well she should pay someone or get a carer. I don’t like my wife being a skivvy. If cleaning and that needs doing she has a home here.”

“God, you’re a dinosaur, Steve. I don’t blame Lucy if she has run off. I’m not convinced that’s all there is to it and I’m not letting this lie. You can please yourself but I’m going to the police.”

She stomped down the path and along the two streets to her own home where she backed the car out into the road. She would go to Ginny’s. Lucy might have been there of course. Ginny might have turned up and given Lucy somewhere to stay. But if that was the case, why hadn’t they let her know? They were mates, through thick and thin and all that. Well, there was one way to find out.

1 Comment

Filed under Serials, Shorts and Stuff

One response to “Missing

  1. This mystery is engrossing. The hubby has scraped knuckles from a lifetime of dragging.


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