Page 16

Jack

I stuck to the promise I’d made to Frannie and held off hauling arse into the office to get Willow’s address from the internal HR system, despite the niggling pit in my stomach.

I’d texted and called Willow’s phone with no answer.

The last call went straight to voicemail and the last three texts had only one tick against them suggesting they were undelivered.

It all pointed to a loss of control. If she were controlled, she’d have replied.

I might not know much about her, but I knew she was responsive.

Instead, I forced myself to enjoy a rare Saturday with my daughter. Forced seemed a harsh choice of words, it was never difficult to enjoy Frannie’s company, it was just hard to take my mind away from Willow.

We’d taken Darwin and Dickens to the beach to let them run around.

Darwin enjoyed the fresh air but stayed close by.

His brother stormed through the waves, dug sand and chased seagulls like he was the neighbourhood felon.

Frannie laughed as he made a fool of himself.

It was a sound that usually lifted my spirits no matter what but this time the effect was minimal.

We shared a Chinese takeaway in the evening whilst watching episodes of Graham Norton – Frannie was behind a few weeks and craved the show like it was the ten o’clock news.

It was her way of keeping up to date with celebrities and their work without leaning into the violating nature of the press, or something like that.

I waved her off in my car Sunday morning, my hair still messy from the early wakeup call, insistent I had to say goodbye.

As the car rounded the corner, the anxiety I’d pushed to the side quickly returned.

I tried to continue with normalcy – exercise, tending to the dogs, and focusing on some work – but nothing helped.

Here I was at the office at 7.30 a.m. As usual, I wore a suit – today’s choice was navy with a pale blue shirt open at the collar and a navy overcoat to keep out the January chill.

Despite my efforts, I looked far from confident and ready for the working week.

I checked the sun visor to find my grey hair messy and dark circles under my eyes from the sleepless weekend. I slapped the visor shut .

As expected, nobody else was in. We ensured everyone had reasonable hours to enjoy a decent work-life balance.

I made my way through to my office, hooked my coat on the stand and placed my briefcase on the mahogany wood desk, before opening my laptop to try and work.

The windows in my office offered ample lighting and allowed for the dark wood accents to add warmth without darkening the room.

The glass internal window frames showed the rest of the office meant I had a perfect line of sight to the car park and front door.

I knew that no matter how hard I tried to work, my focus would be on the office door.

Case and point when the door swung open and my head jerked up to see Mike making a beeline for me, a similar exhaustion haunting his face.

“Anything?” he asked. I avoided his eye contact and shook my head. He’d been just as worried. “I tried to call her, but her phone was off.”

“I’ve been battling with doing something all weekend. And knowing you have, too, I’m wondering why I didn’t.”

“Shit. What do we do?” he asked.

“I think we wait until, say… ten? Everyone should be in by then and she should be too. We call again, if there’s something causing concern, we grab her address from HR and go over ourselves.”

That part of the plan was clear to me. What happened thereafter was vague but could be figured out further down the line.

“You don’t think that’s a bit heavy handed?”

“Do you have an alternative suggestion?” I snapped at my best friend. He jerked his head in surprise. We didn’t talk to each other like that – I was clearly out of sorts. I bowed my head and raised a hand as an apology, he accepted with a nod.

“I have nothing, no,” he conceded.

“We can see it as a welfare check. If everything is fine, great. If it’s not…” My sentence petered off. There wasn’t an alternative. She had to be okay.

My internal battle was evident, and Mike offered a single nod before moving to his own office next door.

Our glass offices could be frosted or clear, depending on our moods – best friends in business together meant we knew when the other needed space or time out.

Today, Mike opted to press the button by his door to keep the glass clear both ways, catching my attention.

He took the seat at his desk, the same position in his office as mine, before feigning focus on his laptop.

It was 9.59 a.m, and no Willow in sight.

Every time the door opened our heads jerked up simultaneously and we turned to look at each other. My stubbled jaw had been scratched, and Mike’s head palmed more times than we could count.

Ten more minutes and we’d be able to ask HR for her details.

Leaning back in my chair, I pulled my phone from the chest pocket of my jacket for something to do. Checking my messages, I saw a text from Frannie asking about Willow. I typed out a white lie a few times before deciding to be honest.

Tapping my phone against my lip in thought, I considered calling Willow one more time, using the excuse that she hadn’t turned up for work.

I clicked her contact and waited. I was surprised to find the dial tone after a weekend of being sent straight to voicemail. After four rings, the wrong voice answered and the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.

“Willow’s phone.” I froze and my throat went dry. “Hello?”

I cleared my throat to speak. “This is Jack Lambert, Willow’s boss.”

“Ah Jack, how nice to hear from you.” Cain had a smarmy voice, devious yet polite. “How can I help you?”

“Willow is normally in by nine, but she hasn’t arrived yet. Is everything alright?” I kept my voice steady.

“I’m afraid she won’t be coming into work today, probably won’t for the rest of the week. I’m so sorry she didn’t tell you earlier, I’ll be sure to remind her of workplace sickness policies.”

What a condescending arsehole.

“Is everything okay?” Is she okay ?

“Oh yes, she’s just lying down. You know what women are like.”

I clenched my jaw. He had absolutely fuck all respect for anyone, let alone the perfect woman.

“I’m sorry Cain, I’m finding it hard to believe you. Willow has never been off sick, if she’s running late, she lets us know. So, I’ll ask you once again. Is. Willow. Okay?”

That angered him, and I was glad for it. Finally, a snippet of the real him and I’d gladly take the brunt if it meant Willow didn’t have to.

It sounded like he’d moved into a different room, because with the click of a door his tone changed.

“You know what Jack , I don’t see how it’s any of your business. I’ve told you she’s not able to work this week, as her employer that’s all you need to know.”

“Respectfully, Cain , I struggle to believe after rejecting a marriage proposal in public, that anyone would go home with their ex . I need to know she’s safe. She has people who care about her. ”

“You pay her bills, but don’t act like you care . Stick to selling houses, Jack. I promise you the only one to pay the price of your meddling is Willow.”

The phone line went dead before I could respond.

I was up, storming from my office and into Mike’s within seconds. He looked up and saw an expression that made him push his chair back and remove his glasses.

“I called her.”

“And? ”

“And he answered. He answered her phone, Mike. Something isn’t right, I know it.” I dropped the phone to his desk, causing a clatter. I paced the room with my hands on my hips. “I asked for reassurance that she was safe, and his only response was to threaten Willow.”

“Fuck, if it wasn’t concerning before, it is now.”

“Agreed, so let’s fucking go— ”

As I opened the office door, Mike stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t you think we should get the police involved? Let them do the welfare check rather than storming in there all Jason Statham.” Clear that his humour fell short, he was gracious enough to look guilty.

“Mike, this isn’t the time to joke. If you want to follow the rules, call the police on the way.” He grabbed his coat while I headed to HR.

Claire looked up from her computer with pink rimmed glasses and a beaming smile, I couldn’t reciprocate like normal, so it quickly dropped.

“Claire, we need the home address for an employee.”

“Oh, Jack we can’t just offer that out, it’s against our GDPR policy.”

Everyone’s reasons not to cooperate were beginning to piss me off, despite knowing they were well intended. I placed my palms on her desk and flopped my head in exasperation, before growling my reply.

“I know the policies, Claire. Mike and I signed off on them. We’re concerned for Willow's welfare, I can’t guarantee that if we don’t get the chance to check on her— ” Looking back up at her, she’d shrunk in on herself at my attitude.

I took a breath to balance myself. “I just need her address so we can be sure she’s okay.

If it helps, we’re calling the police on our way. ”

She relented, searching for Willow's details on her computer and scribbled the address on a Post-It note. Before leaving I made sure to genuinely thank her.

I met Mike at my car. Speeding out of the car park, I headed in the direction of Willow’s house while Mike entered the address into the built-in sat nav.

Once we had a planned route, Mike dialled for the police after a short debate about whether this was emergency enough to call 999.

He took my silent glare as seriously as intended, and dialled the emergency line.

Why wasn’t anyone taking this concern as seriously as I was ?

Deep down, I knew the answer.

Because nobody felt the same way I did about Willow.

The traffic was uncharacteristically busy for mid-morning, another thing testing my patience.

What should have been a twenty-minute journey from Jesmond to Kenton was turning into forty-five minutes.

Moving at a snail pace had me clutching the steering wheel while Mike stayed on the phone with the police.

Occasionally, he’d mumble something about remaining calm, but his voice sounded like it was above water, and I was drowning in my own thoughts.

Eventually, I decided enough was enough and whipped through side streets, alleyways, and residential streets at a speed that would probably get me a fine if I was caught, but there were bigger priorities than the speed of my car.

Mike watched me with caution, occasionally offering responses to the call handler on the phone.

I promise you the only one to pay the price of your meddling is Willow. Cain’s words rang through my ears and sent a shiver through my body.

Finally, we turned the corner onto a standard residential street lined by typical British semi-detached houses. It would be thoroughly unremarkable if I didn’t know my assistant was behind one of the doors.

I parked up across the road from the property highlighted on the map.

“The police say to wait until they’ve arrived. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.” Mike held a palm over the phone while he spoke. As he finished, a body moved into view of the downstairs bay window.

Cain.

With hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on our car, on me , he greeted us with a nod and a smirk.

I was out of the car in a flash, leaving Mike calling after me until the door thudded and muted him completely. I mirrored his stance with my hands stuffed into my pockets and a thunderous scowl. It was clear he was amused as he continued to smirk, shaking his head.

A slam of the car door behind me returned a portion of my attention to Mike.

“Shit. Jack—”

I glanced at him still holding his phone to one ear, looking over the roof of the car up at the first floor of the house. I followed his gaze slowly until I found the source of his concern.

Peering between curtain drapes was a small, withdrawn face with marbled skin.

Willow .