Chapter 11 : Joe's Evening Out - March

4 Months, 141 Days After Jenny's Disappearance

I am just back from another trip to Korea. Me and the other boys in the team. There was a lot of work to do and we spent our free time on the town, doing all the usual sorts of things blokes get up to, when they're far from home. It was not until I got back that I realised that I'd done things I would not have done normally, when Jenny was at home with me

It would have been disloyal. Cheating. I mean, this was not serious Class A debauchery, but we went to a — well several really — topless bars to drink. In fact, I do not think we went to any other sort of bar the whole time we were away. If we were drinking, that's where we went. There were plenty of other nice places to go but we were high on hard work and we just all piled in, to enjoy the girls and the drink and it was really good fun. A change. An anaesthetic. Well, that's my excuse.

I wondered afterwards, if the boys had done it for my benefit. Trying to move me along a bit, helping me forget, encouraging me to start over again. I suppose it was ... I can't find the right word ... thoughtful, kind, understanding, comradely? A bit of each of those things.

But you can't paper over the cracks when something like this happens, when your wife vanishes. When you don't have closure. When you just don't know what's happened. It's just like in engineering. If you see cracks in a large concrete casting, you can't just pour more concrete in and expect it to be OK, just like that. Cracks usually mean you have a serious problem. So I can't "just move on", as though Jenny never happened.

Anniversaries are the worst and birthdays. If was mine last week. I caught myself wondering what she might buy me, where she might have arranged to take me out. Then I remembered, she is not there anymore. It was hers a month ago. I found myself thinking what we might do together. What she might like and then I remembered — there is no Jenny any more.

Our wedding anniversary hurt most. But then we are still married. She might not be there, but it is still the anniversary of the day we did get married. But of course, it's not the same because there is no one to share with.

Anyway, when I finally returned to Warwick. Our home is dark and cold and so silent. I go in, drop my bag and sit. In the dark. Listening. Hoping I might hear her. But of course, there's nothing. Well, how could there be? There's just the buzz of the fridge motor and the central heating pipes clicking as they warmed up.

So I have a whiskey and go to bed. The bed. Our bed. It's cold now. I have to put Jenny's pillows down the middle to keep the warmth on my side but in the morning, I find a message from Cathy and George Corbyn inviting me round on Saturday evening.

Now that really is thoughtful, because Saturdays are the worst evenings when you are alone. It shows understanding. Empathy. On Friday you can think about going to the supermarket and doing the washing. On Sunday you can think about going to work on Monday but on Saturday, it's a sort of oasis between one week and the next. Saturday evening lasts a long time when you are alone. If you go out to eat or if you go out to the pictures, you are still alone. What you are doing, is like taking an aspirin. The pain dulls but it never goes away because you are alone. Everything reminds you that you are alone. Alone. That's the pain. The pain of being alone.

So I go to George and Cathy's. Cathy used to work with Jenny, so she knows the background. It was Cathy who went round to the house to see what was matter with Jenny, when I first realised that something was wrong. I suppose you could say that it was Cathy who first found out that Jenny had gone. George and Cathy both work at the University. Cathy is in Psychology and George is a Mathematician.

Cathy is a good cook. Simple but clever. She's made a pasta bolognaise but instead of mince she's used diced venison. You can get it from the supermarket. Browned it in butter and simmered in one of the prepared sauces you can buy, she says. I think she is worried about me. What I am eating? Actually the issue is what I should be eating, so I suppose this was partly to give me some ideas. Keeping me in shape for when Jenny gets back. If the day should ever come.

"So how's things, Joe?" She asks. George leans back and sips his wine. We had a merlot. I suppose it might have been a bit too powerful for the meat but it was really good.

"Well, I'm just back. I guess I'll have to catch up with washing. Put some food in the cupboards, give the house a clean. It's amazing how dusty it gets just standing there."

"Yes, sure, but that's not what I meant"

"You meant how am I?" I'm like most blokes; not good at talking about myself, but I'm still tired from the trip. Maybe I have had too much to drink and for a man, I'm being uncharacteristically frank and open about how I feel, 'driving with the brakes off' as you might say.

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not very good, really. When I was away, there was plenty to do and there were the others around and we all had a really good time. For me, this means having a really busy time. Sleep; work; eat; drink; sleep; a whole month of it. So now I'm back I can sleep it off but I don't sleep very well at home."

"Hmm?"

"Too many reminders. Look, do you really want to hear this? I mean isn't it a bit self indulgent?"

"No. You need space to say where you are."

"You think?"

"Yes, I think."

"Well, why is being at home bad? Because Jenny is there and she is not there. Every time I see her clothes in the wardrobe or cupboard or smell her perfume, it's a reminder that she is not there. Like her tooth-brush in the bathroom. Well, the police took that."

"Took her toothbrush? I knew things were financially tight but didn't think the police were down to begging second hand tooth brushes," offers George.

"Well done George, but they were after DNA samples. They are supposed to give it me back but they haven't and I haven't asked."

"Sure, I can see that."

"You don't feel you want to dispose of her things then?"

"No, I ... No I'm hoping for ... well you know the rest."

"Yes. You should start saving"