LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter Five

       Our Julie Goes Missing

      On Thursday 16 November 1989, two months after our trip to Blackpool together and about a month after Andrew had gone down to London to work with his uncle, Julie was due to go to court in nearby Stockton to apply for a legal separation. I agreed to go with her, partly because we always did things like that together and partly because I thought she might need a bit of moral support. These sorts of legal procedures are always more emotional than you might expect them to be and I didn’t like the idea of her having to face it on her own. At times like that I knew Julie preferred to have me around; it was just the way we did things.

      ‘Andrew and me are not going to get back together, our Mam,’ she told me when I asked if she was absolutely sure this was the route she wanted to follow. ‘I’ve been to see a solicitor and he says it’s best we make it official.’

      Realizing she had made up her mind and there was nothing I could do but be supportive, I didn’t say any more. She said she was going to be working the night before.

      On the 15th, the afternoon before we were due to go to the court, I went down to her house to pick up Kevin just as I normally did when she was working late, making deliveries in the pizza van. She was double-checking all the arrangements as usual. She always got anxious about things like that.

      ‘You won’t forget to call me in the morning, will you, our Mam?’ she said as Kevin and I were leaving the house. ‘I have to be in court at ten, so we’ll need to set out around nine. Ring me about half seven to make sure I’m awake.’

      ‘Why don’t you come and stay at home tonight?’ I suggested. ‘Then you can take your time in the morning.’

      ‘No, I want to stay in my own house,’ she said casually. ‘Just don’t forget to call me at seven-thirty.’

      ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I will, and I’ll be down to get you about half eight.’

      ‘You won’t forget, will you?’ she said.

      ‘I won’t,’ I assured her, used to her always fussing like this about things like appointments.

      How many thousands of times have I wished that I had kept on nagging her to come and stay with us that night? I’m sure I could have made her if I’d kept on at her for long enough, but it didn’t seem worth arguing about at the time. She was a grown-up after all; it was perfectly reasonable that she would want to sleep in her own bed after a long evening’s work. Part of me was always pleased when she showed a bit of independence anyway, and it meant we wouldn’t be disturbed by her coming in late, so I said no more.

      I’d just got back to our house with Kevin when the phone rang and I knew it would be her again, because it nearly always was.

      ‘It’s just me again, Mam,’ she said. ‘You won’t forget to ring me in the morning, early, will you?’

      ‘Stop worrying,’ I grumbled. ‘I’ll be ringing you.’

      That was the last time I heard her voice. There are so many things I wish I’d said in that call, but why would I have thought to say any of them since I expected to see her again in a little over twelve hours’ time? I wish I could just have told her how much I loved her. I wish I could have said goodbye properly, but that isn’t how things work. You can’t go through life treating every phone call and every conversation as if it is going to be your last.

      That night I didn’t sleep well. I woke at ten past three, an odd time of night to wake. There was a horrible feeling of foreboding churning around inside my stomach, as if something bad was happening somewhere else, giving me premonitions. I told myself not to be stupid, that I must just have been having a bad dream or something, but still the feeling wouldn’t go away and wouldn’t allow me to get back to sleep. Small worries can grow like weeds in the darkest hours of the night and I hate lying in bed once I’m awake with my mind turning round and round, so I got up and tip-toed downstairs, being careful not to disturb Charlie, who was sleeping soundly.

      If it had been an hour earlier I would have rung Julie to check she had got in all right from work, just to put my mind at rest, but I assumed she would be in bed by then and asleep. I didn’t want to disturb her when she was going to have to be up early anyway. I made myself a cup of tea and eventually the feeling of dread in my stomach eased a little and I went back to bed for a few hours of fitful sleep until the alarm went off.

      The next morning, I got Kevin up to give him his breakfast, then dead on seven-thirty I rang Julie’s number as promised. When I got no reply I assumed she must be too deeply asleep after her late shift for the phone to penetrate her dreams. Muttering irritably to myself, I decided I’d better go down to wake her up in person. I carried Kevin out and strapped him into the car so we could drive down the road to Grange Avenue to wake his mam up and hurry her along.

      As I parked and got out of the car I could see all the curtains were tightly closed upstairs and downstairs so I was pretty sure she was still fast asleep. Not expecting to be more than a couple of minutes, I left Kevin in the car and bustled up the front path. I didn’t have a key so I knocked on the door, mildly exasperated with her for putting me to all this extra trouble. My knocking had no more effect than the phone call had, and I was aware I was making a lot of noise for any of the neighbours who might still be asleep. I tried calling through the

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