Chapter 5

After eight months searching, I was delighted that Robert Fortman had North Wales Police searching for Sally. Early afternoon on Friday of the same week, Nicola shouted from the study. I went to join her.

“I may have a lead.”

She smiled up at me, as I arrived in the room, and I could see the excitement in her eyes.

“It’s a message from ‘Friends Reunited’ for Sally. It’s their usual follow-up for members who’ve not contacted the site for a few months. I can’t think why I didn’t check their website earlier; I just never thought of it.”

She clicked on the school and I supplied the password that Sally used for everything, much against my advice. Now I was glad she had. The list of names came up. I gave Nicky the dates Sally was there and she scrolled through them.

There followed the slow business of selecting each pupil’s name one by one to see if there was any information about them. Many were just a name and no further details. After a search so time-consuming that she began to mutter about giving up, she hit on the name ‘Judith Connor’. Up came the woman’s description.

Hi! Judith is now living near Bangor North Wales. No Kids. Teaching IT in Bangor. Divorced. Anyone wants to visit, you’ll be welcome!

I was disappointed there was no address, until Nicola pointed out that putting one’s address on an open site was asking for trouble.

“Caleb, we’ve got a name and the right region. I’ll finish going through the school list to make sure there’s no one else round there, Then a little more searching on the electoral roll site and we’ll find her.”

I was really impressed and started to feel excited. “I’ll make some tea,” I said, unable to watch her any longer.

An hour later, I heard a shriek of satisfaction, and ran to her.

“Found her!” she cried. “Name, address and phone number. Here, phone her!”

I hesitated, then sat down with a worried frown. “Let’s not be too hasty,” I said. “If I phone and Sally’s there, she may take off again somewhere else, and we’d be back to square one.”

Now came a massive coincidence. The phone rang and it was Robert.

“Caleb, you’d better sit down old son. We think we’ve found her.”

My knees did indeed begin to tremble. Robert asked me to write down the place, so I got a piece of paper and a pen and wrote. The village was the same one that Nicky had just found.

“Sorry I can’t be more specific, Caleb,” said Robert, “The local man there has a cousin who employs her as his accountant, but they haven’t got an address.”

“Robert, I can’t thank you enough. By a strange coincidence Nicky had just found an old school friend on ‘friends reunited’ who lives at the same place. It looks as if we might really have found her. Thanks again old friend.”

It seems coincidences do happen. This one was uncanny. That Robert should ring at exactly the same time as Nicky found the address was unnerving.

I stood and moved behind Nicola, putting my hands on her shoulders and massaging them. She sighed and laid her head on my hand. I turned my hand over and cupped her cheek. She stood and in no time we were in an embrace.

She seemed to shake herself and whispered, “What now?”

I felt guilty to be so intent on Sally’s trail, but I couldn’t wait any longer. It was still mid-afternoon.

“I’m sorry, Nicky,” I said gently, “but I’ve got to go and see if she’s really there. I need to talk to her.”

“When?”

“Now. This afternoon. I don’t know what I’ll find when I get there – it may be a wild goose chase and she may in fact be somewhere completely different, but can you find me a hotel in striking distance and see if they have any rooms free for the weekend?”

Nicola nodded. It turned out there was one medium-sized hotel in the village, and being November, they had plenty of rooms available. She booked one and then set about getting an itinerary for me to follow. Meanwhile I packed a bag.

At the door we embraced again and I kissed her gently on her lips and she returned the kiss with like gentleness. We knew we loved each other, but that further progress in our relationship was in the balance.

“Shall I stay here over the weekend, even with you gone?” Nicola asked. “You can contact me more easily here, and I can have something ready for you when you get back.”

“That would be good,” I said. I kissed her again and went to the car. I could see her standing at the front door as I drove away, one hand half raised in a farewell gesture.

The journey was scheduled to take about four hours, but I had reckoned without the fact that it was Friday. This meant the roads were packed with folk who worked away from home all week and were going home for the weekend. The motorways were heavy with traffic and as I left the M6 to make my way into Wales the rain started falling. The short November day turned darker and the rain fell in torrents as it frequently does in Wales. The journey was tedious and I arrived in the village just after seven o’clock, in the dark. The rain kept up it’s relentless drumming on the car roof as I pulled into the hotel car park. I checked in and booked a meal for eight o’clock.

The food was good, and the service attentive, and I felt a good deal more relaxed than I had when I arrived. On my way from the dining room, I could hear a band playing a country-dance in the function room, so I called at reception.

“Is there a dance here tonight?” I asked, and was told that there was a monthly barn dance at the hotel, which was open to residents. Would I be going? I shook my head.

I asked directions to Judith Connor’s cottage, giving the address to the receptionist.

“Oh, that’s Miss Connor’s place,” asserted the girl, “She’s one of my ex-teachers.” That admission prompted me to ask if she had any visitors.

“Well, I think she still has a friend staying – been there months you know. A Miss Mitchell, isn’t it?” She asked the other receptionist, and the reply was affirmative.

My heart jumped; I had finally found her. However, I noted my wife’s use of her maiden name, thanked the girl and went to my room to get my raincoat and an umbrella, wondering all the while what sort of reception I would get. Tendrils of fear snaked through my stomach.

I made my way along the darkened street to the other end of the village. The streetlights were few and far between, and I passed the small cottage before realising it. I retraced my steps and knocked at the front door.

The woman who answered the door was tall; as tall as I was; very good-looking too, I thought.

“Good evening,” I began. “Ms Connor?”

“Yes?” said the woman, with a suspicious look.

“I’m Caleb Latimer, Sally’s husband. Is Sally here?”

The effect of this introduction would have been comical, were it not for what followed. The woman’s mouth dropped open and she stared at me. Then she realised she was gaping and shut her mouth. I thought I saw panic for a second, then uncertainty, then – yes I was sure – fear for some reason. Her emotional response was chaotic. At length, probably only a few seconds in reality, her expression hardened into dislike and even hatred.

“I don’t know how you found us, but you should know by now she doesn’t want to see you.”

“Ms Connor,” I said quietly, struggling with this reaction to me. “I’ve been searching for her for eight months. I need to know–”

“You need to know nothing! I know your sort. You’ll not know where she is from me.”

“My sort?” I was getting annoyed at this unmerited response.

“You men are all alike, but your sort need to be kept away from vulnerable women.”

“I don’t understand. What are you accusing me of?”

“Don’t come the innocent with me. I’m not afraid of you. You wife beaters should be put away.”

“She told you I hit her?”

“She’s in mortal fear of you.” She looked triumphant. “What do you think? Like most battered wives her emotions were shot to pieces. I’ve never seen anyone so terrified of being found than she was of you finding where she was.”

“Listen.” I was now angry and affronted. “I have never laid a finger on her. Perhaps you ought to ask her before making that sort of accusation. She’ll tell you the truth.”

“I don’t think so!” she said, all her prejudiced answers ready. She was a very unhappy woman. I suspected she had had a bad time with men and had sworn off them.

She continued “You know she’ll be too scared to accuse you. Look, Mr Caleb Latimer, she doesn’t live here any more. She’s found a very nice guy and she’s living with him now. You’re history. So why don’t you just leave her alone to get on with her life. She’s very happy without you. Just go away!”

She was shutting the door. “Ms Connor, wait!” The door stopped moving. “If what you say is true, then of course I’ll respect it. But there are two things. No matter what you may think of me, she has two children who are left in limbo by her disappearance, and secondly, Sally and I need to communicate. She’ll need a divorce and we need to sort out the family finances – divide up the assets. If I write, will you pass the letter on?”

The door slammed in my face.

I stood before the door for some minutes, trying to digest what had passed between us. Sally was living with someone else? She had moved on? She had left me and her two children behind without a backward glance?

All the churning mixed emotions came flooding back; my anger rose at the injustice of it, my despair that the marriage was now definitely at an end – the aching void of bereavement. Mystification at Sally’s accusations.

There was no way I could find her at night, but perhaps someone might know where she was tomorrow, so I turned and began to make my way back to the hotel. The rain showed no sign of abating and I had my umbrella up and in front of me against the wind, which was blowing the rain in my face.

Thus I only saw the couple, wrapped up against the rain, after they had walked past me in the other direction on the other side of the road.

We passed each other at a junction with a smaller road and I heard the man say “Will you come home with me tonight, Cariad, or were you thinking of going to Judy’s?”

“No, Bryn, I’ll come back with you.” It was her voice, Sally’s voice. It was not animated or excited but rather dull and monotonous, but it was her. I stopped and half turned, and she said “Bryn, there’s a man standing across the road. I think he’s lost.”

“I’ll go and ask him. You go on home.” They kissed and she turned and walked away.

Already confused by Connor’s earlier response, now confirmed, I stood transfixed, dazed, in the darkness under my umbrella. She had a key to the man’s house. The reality hit home: she was really with another man. The abyss in my stomach became bottomless.

By the time I moved to follow her, it was too late: Sally had already walked off and the man had come across the road towards me through the rain.

I made as if to pass him so I could follow her, but he blocked my path. He asked me a question in Welsh.

“Sorry?” I said.

The man reverted to English. “I asked you if I could help you. You are standing in the pouring rain as if you don’t know where to go.”

“No, I don’t need any help, thank you. I was standing looking at the woman you’re with. It’s Sarah Latimer. You’re the second man she’s been with while still being married with two children whom she’s abandoned.”

“Who are you? You a private detective?”

“Oh no. I’ve been searching for her for eight months, and if you want to help me, you can take me to see her now.”

The man sucked in a breath. “O Dduw na! [Oh God no!]” he exclaimed. “You’re her husband!”

“Good! You worked it out. Now I’ve found her, I need to see her.”

The man’s face clouded and turned to anger. “I don’t think so boyo. She ran away from you in fear, and confessed to a friend of ours that you were violent to her, so no way are you going to intimidate her.”

“Sally is no liar: she never said I was violent. You got that from Judith Connor. Miss Connor might have assumed that, but it’s not true. Ask her yourself. We had a good marriage until she started an affaire, and she ran away when it was discovered, I assume, because she was ashamed of herself.”

“Listen here Mr Latimer, if she wanted to talk to you she would’ve, she knows where you live and she’ll have your phone number. She hasn’t even tried. She’s with me now. Go home. She doesn’t want to see you.”

“Don’t you think she should be the judge of that?” I asked aggressively. “She’s not a child, in fact she’s got two grown children who are heart-broken that she’s abandoned them. If I am supposed to be violent, why would she cut herself off from them as well? You need to ask her that.”

“Well, you’re not seeing her, and there’s no way I’m leading you to her. Go home. Leave her alone.”

“Are you sure you’re not keeping me away out of fear she’d want to come back to me? Listen. I’m staying at the hotel in the village. I give you my word that I’ll leave her alone if you give her a message. Tell her that I’m here and I want to see her. I’ll be at the hotel waiting for her, she can catch me there tonight, but I’m leaving in the morning. If you really care about her, you’ll let her decide for herself whether to come to see me or not. Isn’t that fair?”

“Well, yes I suppose so. Ok. I”ll tell her that.”

“You can come with her to protect her if she wants you to.”

“Ok, I’ll do that.” The man turned and walked away, and for a moment I thought of following him. Then I realised he would never lead me to the house if he thought I had abused her, so I walked back to the hotel to wait for her.

I felt despair flood back again. I would never get her back. She had made a life with someone else, a second man. Perhaps she had known this man from her accountancy work.

What had changed in this woman that I had married so long ago? You think you know someone after twenty years, I thought. You don’t.

I returned to the hotel, told them I had to leave early the next morning, and settled the bill right away.

“A Mrs Latimer may come to the hotel to see me,” I told the girl. “Will you notify me if she arrives, please?”

“No problem,” she replied with a smile.

I went to my room, packed my case ready to go after breakfast. As I packed I wondered whether Sally would come to the hotel looking for me. At least I would know then where I stood. As yet I had not even addressed the question whether I could accept her back, so intent had I been to find her.

She didn’t come, so the question did not arise.

At midnight, I reluctantly climbed into the double bed that seemed to mock my single state. I felt empty and hopeless, but being absolutely exhausted I immediately fell asleep.

I fell asleep immediately, but I did not sleep well and rose early on Saturday, then had breakfast. I felt hopeless. I drove to the road on which they were living and turned down it, but realised I didn’t know which house they lived in. If I parked and waited for them to come out, Sally knew the car and wouldn’t budge. Despondently I just wanted to get out of there. I abandoned the idea of waiting and began the drive home on the much quieter weekend roads.

All the way I wondered if I should have waited them out, and berated myself for not calling out to her.

I arrived home around midday.

I let myself into the house and went to the kitchen. I was hungry. While I was making some toast I was startled to hear a voice behind me. I had forgotten that Nicola was staying in the house while I was away. She was dressed in a tight tee shirt without a bra, and figure hugging jeans.

“Caleb? What’s happened? Why are you back so soon?”

I looked at her for a moment. I saw her body, its very sexiness provoking the release of all the tension I had kept under control from the time I saw my wife arm in arm with yet another man. All my strength evaporated and I collapsed against the kitchen table.

“Nicky?” I asked in my befuddled state.

“Yes, I’m here,” she replied gently, coming to my side.

“I think I’m very tired,” I told her. It was true: in all the mayhem of the time Gordon was off work, I had ever felt so drained of energy.

“Come on,” she said briskly. She put an arm round me and I helped her by pushing off the table. I could feel her soft breast as we climbed the stairs into my bedroom.

The feel of the woman who was helping me reminded me all the more of the woman I had lost. I lay down on the bed, and was surprised when she began to undress me to my underpants, I was perfectly capable of undressing myself, but her actions were comforting Once I was in the bed and under the covers she sat down. I immediately fell asleep.

It was four in the afternoon, with dusk falling, hours later, when I awoke, and the feelings of deep sadness and loss once more overwhelmed me. Then I saw Nicola, still dressed in tee shirt and jeans, sitting in the chair by the bed, a book on her knees, watching me.

Had she been there the whole time? She smiled and immediately left the room, but before long was back with a mug of tea and some rounds of toast and butter, which I ate gratefully. She sat back in the chair.

Once the food was finished, I felt much better and turned my attention to her. I lay back against the bed head, hands behind my head and sighed.

“Well, Nicky,” I groaned. “It’s all over. She’s found another man and from the looks of it she’s not ever coming back.”

I was staring into the middle distance. Nicola rose and came to sit on the bed and take my hands in hers.

“You’re feeling the loss of her all over again,” she said. I nodded in agreement.

“Before,” she continued, “you were searching and you couldn’t move on; all your attention was on finding her. Now you’ve found her, you’ve got to cope with something new.”

I nodded again.

“The thing is,” I said, “I still can’t grasp why she’s repudiated me so completely. First she fucks the priest and now she’s living with someone else. What did I do, Nicky? Or what didn’t I do? She seemed so happy with me. I gave her everything I could. Everything I did, I did for her. Twenty odd years, Nicky, down the pan.” I lapsed into silence.

“So, what happened when you got there?” she asked after a while.

So I replayed the whole story – the hostile reaction of Judith Connor, her accusation of my brutality to Sally, her account of Sally’s new relationship and Judith’s urging me to leave her alone. Then my trying to get her to promise to tell Sally I’d been there.

Finally I recounted my journey back to the hotel, seeing Sally with the new man in her life and their obvious involvement, then my encounter with her man, and my message to Sally by him.

Nicola scooted up onto the bed with me and knelt by my side. She took me into her arms and held me tightly. I did not resist; her soft warm body, her breasts, were where I laid my head, and it was comforting. I felt her hands stroking my hair and then she gently rubbing my back. I knew she was holding a lot back; I could feel her tense anger, I assumed at what Sally had done, but I was grateful she kept her feelings to herself at that time at least.

“You’re very good to me,” I told her softly, “You should be out enjoying yourself, I’m wasting your time.”

I was feeling as sorry for myself as it was possible to be, and I admit I was fishing for the right answer from her, and she gave it.

“Caleb, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you. Just accept that. If I wanted to go, I would. I want to be here. I’ve told you that before.”

We lapsed into silence and eventually she disengaged herself.

“I think it’s time we ate. I bought some steaks. Will you come downstairs and have them?”

“Are you going to cook them?” I asked, managing a smile.

She punched me playfully on my arm, smiled broadly and left me to get dressed.

By the time I had showered, dressed in fresh clothes and descended to the kitchen, Nicola had prepared a salad, made mustard and baked some potatoes in the microwave. The steaks were sizzling on the griddle and their aroma pricked my appetite. We ate in silence.

After the meal we went into the living room and Nicola put on the TV. She selected a comedy programme and we sat together and watched it as we had so many times over the previous months. Then I had to let it all out. I couldn’t stop myself.

“I’m trying to understand what’s happened but it doesn’t make any sense to me. Why after so many years did she suddenly begin to lie to me, or at least deceive me? What was it about the priest” (I still refused to name him) “that she had to fuck him? Was it because he was unattainable – a challenge? Was he more skilful in bed than I am? Did he give her thrills that I can’t manage? More athletic? Oh I don’t know!”

I sighed and drummed my fingers on the arm of the sofa.

“I still think it was simply that they were together alone for too long,” Nicola ventured. “They did spend hours together in that house week after week.”

“But we’ve been together for hours over the past months, and we’ve not jumped into bed together.” I rejoined.

“Look, Caleb,” Nicola sounded stern, “if you’d come on to me just once, I’d have been in your bed without another thought! Just being with you for so long’s made me hot for you. Remember that kiss at the top of the stairs?”

I was shocked. “Well, I know you kept telling me you loved me, but I thought it was as a friend.”