Michael looked at his old friend, and he sighed heavily. ‘I hope you’re right, Declan, I really do. But something is telling me, inside, that’s not the case. She’s in trouble. I just know it.’

Chapter One Hundred and One

Chapter One Hundred
and One

Jake was all smiles, his happiness contagious. Josephine was watching him drawing pictures and, as he finished each one, he showed them to her with a flourish.

‘That’s you and Granddad eating your dinner!’

Josephine couldn’t help but laugh – he had captured them perfectly. She looked at the drawing and saw herself and her husband sitting on her bed together, with plates on their laps. Then she saw that Jake had drawn himself on a chair all alone, watching them. He wasn’t smiling. He looked sad.

‘Why do you look so sad, Jake?’

He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’m waiting for my mummy, of course. But she didn’t come.’

Josephine felt so sorry for her little lad. ‘I told you, Jake. Your mummy has to work a lot.’

He carried on drawing, but he didn’t answer her. She could slap her daughter sometimes for the worry she caused. And now she was missing, and it was worrying them all. She had heard nothing from her daughter for nearly four days and, like Michael, Josephine was beginning to be seriously concerned.

Dana came into the room beaming, and when Josephine saw the way that Jake reacted to her, she felt a stab of jealousy.

‘Come on, you. It’s your bath time, mister.’

Jake got up from the floor, abandoning his drawing without a thought. ‘Can I play with my toys?’

Dana picked him up effortlessly. He was a big child for his age, but Dana didn’t seem to notice that; she still treated him like a baby. ‘’Course you can! They are all there waiting for you!’

‘See you later, Nana!’

Josephine waved to him, and watched as they left the room together. She knelt down on the rug, and busied herself tidying his paper and pencils away. Then she carefully picked up his sweet wrappers – fun-size Snickers and a Milky Way – and folded both of them neatly, before placing them into one of the boxes scattered around the room.

Glancing at herself in the mirror of her dressing table, she checked over her appearance. She looked perfect, which pleased her. She picked up her lipstick from the dressing table, and ran it over her lips quickly. The action alone calmed her, made her feel better in herself. She gained a lot of comfort from doing familiar things. Her doctor said it was about control, but she couldn’t see that herself. She just liked the feeling of ease it gave her; there was a lot to be said for order, having a routine. She couldn’t cope without it.