The Night She Disappeared by Lisa Jewell

51

June 2017

The bright sun strobes through the willow hanks as Zach and Tallulah cross the common towards the pub. Zach takes her hand as they walk and keeps up a running commentary. He tells her about a guy at work who just got a rescue dog that can’t bark and another guy at work whose kid was arrested last week for vandalism and he tells her about the possibility of a caravan in the New Forest that he might be able to borrow for a week off a friend of one of his sisters – they could go there for their summer holidays, maybe, and Tallulah nods and smiles and makes all the right noises because she has nothing to lose now by being nice to him. By the end of this evening they will never hold hands again, he will never chat to her like this again; by the end of tonight there will be a solid wall between them that will be, she knows, because it is how Zach works, absolutely unbreachable. So for now, while the sun shines and there is wine to be drunk and no more exams and a night out, why not be nice, why not pretend that everything is fine?

The garden at the front of the pub is packed. The Swan & Ducks is a destination pub, not just a local. People come from all the surrounding villages and hamlets, especially on a sunny Friday night in June.

It’s quieter inside the pub. The barman points out their table to them and Tallulah catches her breath. There’s a bottle of champagne chilling on the table in a chrome bucket, and two champagne flutes.

‘Ta-da,’ says Zach, leading her to the table.

She goes to pull out her chair but Zach intervenes and says, ‘No, allow me,’ before pulling the chair out for her and then tucking her in on it.

Tallulah smiles and says, ‘Wow, thank you. This is amazing.’

‘The least you deserve,’ Zach replies, pulling out his own chair and seating himself.

Tallulah glances up at him. His face is soft, wreathed in smiles. He looks like the sweet lost boy who started secondary school halfway through and she feels her resolve start to diminish.

‘We both deserve it,’ she says. ‘It’s been quite a year.’

His smile falters then and he says, ‘Yes. It really has been.’ He turns to grapple with the champagne bottle. ‘Right,’ he says, ‘please don’t let me fuck this up.’ He eases the cork from the bottle and Tallulah brings her flute close to the bottle neck, just in case, but the cork leaves smoothly with a gentle pop and Zach pours her a glass and then himself and then he says, raising his glass to hers, ‘To us. Zach and Tallulah. And to Noah, the best little man in the world. Cheers.’

Tallulah touches her glass against Zach’s and is grateful when he doesn’t hold her gaze or expect her to reciprocate his sentiments in any way and instead turns his attention to the paper menu in front of him. ‘Right,’ he says. ‘Literally order anything. Price is no object. Whatever you want.’

She glances at the menu and sees a whole sea bass served with broccolini and pilau rice for thirty-five pounds. She gulps and says, ‘Well, I won’t be having the sea bass.’

‘Have the sea bass,’ says Zach. ‘Seriously, have whatever you want.’

‘I don’t even like sea bass.’

He rolls his eyes at her affectionately and she sees his hand go to the pocket of his trousers as he’s done a few times since they left the house and she knows that that’s where the ring is and her mouth feels dry and she thinks: Why is she doing this? Why has she let it get this far? She is going to humiliate him and crush him and all of this, this golden summer night of champagne toasts and chivalry will curdle into something unbearable and cruel. But no, she reminds herself, no, tonight is not real. Tonight is a mirage. She reminds herself of the night she slept over at Scarlett’s, the barrage of increasingly abusive messages and videos, the way he pressed his face so close to Noah’s, using him to get to her, to scare her, to bend her to his will. She thinks of the feel of his finger under her chin, poking hard and deep into the softness there, forcing her to look him in the eye. She thinks of how he wants her to give up her college course, give up her friends, stay at home, save money, be a good mother. She thinks of how he has manipulated his way into still living in her home, still sharing her bed and she thinks of how she let him and she thinks no, no, this can’t be a kind split, this can’t be ambiguous, this can’t leave any room for anything but animosity and pain. Because Zach is a controller and she has to show him that she cannot and will not be controlled and that all the champagne and big, soft eyes and compliments and expensive fish in the world is not going to change that.

She pulls in her breath to calm herself, and looks down at the menu.

As she does so, she hears a commotion at the door, the sounds of hooting laughter and loud chatter. She glances up and sees first Mimi, then Roo, then Jayden, then Rocky, with Scarlett and Liam bringing up the rear. Zach looks up and she sees displeasure register on his face. He hates the posh kids from the school across the common. He groans. ‘That’s the end of the peace and quiet.’

They head towards the bar, and Tallulah can feel Scarlett’s eyes burning upon her, but she keeps her gaze fixed on the menu. The words swim before her, meaninglessly. Cannellini. Jus. Anchovy. Rigatoni. Chorizo. She doesn’t know what any of it means. She just knows that Scarlett is at the bar and Scarlett is looking at her. She feels her phone vibrate and glances at the message.

Has it happened yet?

No, she replies.

I’m here if you need me.

K.

‘Who’s that?’

‘Just Mum,’ she replies. ‘Wants to know which pyjamas to put Noah in.’

Zach smiles. Then he says, ‘Fancy sharing a seafood platter with me?’

‘Oh,’ she says distractedly. ‘Maybe. What’s it got on it?’

‘King prawns. Smoked salmon. Clams. Potted shrimps. And caviar.’

She glances at the price. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I told you. We’re fine dining tonight.’

‘OK, then.’ She nods. ‘I mean, it’s up to you. I don’t really like caviar …’

Zach laughs and says, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll eat your caviar.’

She smiles and takes a large sip from her champagne glass. Scarlett and her mates are still at the bar putting in a long and very complicated order and asking for cashback and being generally loud and irritating. She glances up and catches Scarlett’s eye very briefly. She can feel her face flush pink and she quickly looks away and says, ‘Shall we order some fries?’

‘Hell, yes,’ says Zach. ‘Triple-cooked chips. French fries. Or truffle chips. Shall we just have one of each?’

‘Yes,’ she says, not really knowing what she’s saying yes to. She has no idea what a truffle chip is.

‘Excellent.’ He smiles and folds his arms.

Tallulah can hear Scarlett from here. ‘Have you got any rum from Barbados?’ she asks. ‘It’s called Mount Gay?’

‘’Fraid not. We’ve got Bacardi. Kraken …’

‘Kraken will do. But you should totally get some Mount Gay. It’s, like, the best.’

She sounds so posh, Tallulah thinks. So entitled. It’s almost impossible to imagine her as she is when the two of them are alone together.

‘Christ,’ says Zach. ‘Listen to them. Who do they think they are?’ He impersonates Scarlett under his breath, ‘It’s, like, the best.’

Tallulah nods and says, ‘Yeah. I know. They’re really annoying.’ Then she draws in her breath and says, ‘They go to my college. They’re all studying art. I think some of them used to go to Maypole House.’

‘That figures,’ he says. Then he gets to his feet and says, ‘I’m going to order. Want anything else to drink?’

She taps her fingernails against her champagne flute and says, ‘I’m good with this, thank you.’

He throws her an indulgent smile and then she holds her breath as he approaches the bar. He is standing inches from Scarlett, who has her back to him as she touches her debit card to the screen of a card reader. She waits for the receipt to roll out and then takes it from the barman. ‘Thank you,’ she says. Then she picks up her drink and turns, and now she is face to face with Zach, and Tallulah can barely breathe.

‘Sorry,’ she hears him say, bobbing to his right to let her pass.

Tallulah sees her smile tightly at him and hears her say, ‘No worries.’

As she passes Tallulah’s table on her way back outside, Scarlett stares meaningfully at her. She touches her breastbone with a fist and blinks. Tallulah nods and then looks away. Adrenaline is pulsing through every part of her. She swallows down some champagne to distract herself from the horrible sensation of her heart pounding beneath her rib cage. Her phone buzzes. It’s Scarlett.

You OK?

No,she replies. I feel sick.

You can do this. I’m here.

Tallulah types in a love heart and sends it, then turns off the screen and places her phone under the menu so that she can’t look at it.

Zach returns and takes his seat. ‘That’s the girl, isn’t it? From your selfie?’

She arranges her face into an expression of confusion, but she can tell it’s unconvincing. ‘Which girl?’

‘The one with scraggy hair. That was going on about rum. The one I saw you at the bus stop with that time.’

‘Oh,’ she replies lightly. ‘Yes. That’s Scarlett.’

‘How come she didn’t come and say hello?’

She shrugs. ‘Maybe she didn’t see me.’

He takes the champagne bottle from the bucket and tops them both up. Tallulah can tell that the atmosphere has already soured slightly, that a cloud has drifted across Zach’s burning sun of optimism.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Maybe.’

They chat for a while about Noah, about Zach’s sister who’s just fallen pregnant with her first child, and thinks she might be having twins, but it feels to Tallulah that she is doing all the work, that Zach is elsewhere, and she knows where he is. He’s inside his head chewing over his brief exchange with Scarlett. Zach is very perceptive and he will have picked up on her energy, and now he will be picking up on Tallulah’s energy and he will know that something is not quite right but he will have no idea what it is.

Their food arrives and it is quite a spectacle: a white platter laid upon a brass stand and strewn with shiny necklaces of samphire and ruby-red pomegranate seeds.

They both say wow and grab cutlery out of a pot on the table, and then begin to dismantle the platter, but Tallulah has no appetite and takes an inordinate amount of time to unpeel a prawn.

‘Are you OK?’ asks Zach.

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re not really eating much.’

‘It’s just a bit fiddly.’

‘Eat some chips.’ He tips a pot of massive, oily-looking chips towards her and she takes a few.

‘More,’ he says. And that edge is back in his voice. It is not a suggestion, but a demand. She takes a couple more and he places the chips back on the table.

Her phone vibrates and she angles it towards her to look at it. It’s Scarlett again. She sees the first few words of the message but doesn’t open it: Do you need me? I can …

Zach throws her a questioning look.

‘Mum again.’

‘Oh yes,’ he says. ‘What does she want?’

‘Just asking if we were having a nice time?’

‘And?’ he says. ‘Are we?’

The question is loaded and she waits a beat to reply. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘We’re having a lovely time.’ And she puts out her champagne glass to his and says, ‘Cheers.’

She can feel the night crumbling. She can tell that small talk has become impossible and that they will either sit here in silence or they will talk about them and either outcome will ruin the evening. So she hands him a prawn and says, ‘Go on. Peel it for me, will you? I’m too lazy,’ and she hits him with the best smile she can muster. He rolls his eyes affectionately and takes it from her and for a moment it feels as if the cordial atmosphere might have been restored. But then her phone buzzes again and he tuts and says, ‘Fuck’s sake.’

‘Probably my mum, because I didn’t reply to her last one.’

‘Well, go on then,’ he says crossly, wrenching the head off the prawn.

She switches on her screen and clicks on Scarlett’s message. Then she types in quickly: He’s in a bad mood. I don’t think it’s going to happen.

Scarlett replies: Plan B?

Tallulah takes a deep breath and types back: Yes. Plan B.