masz – dobrze – dzikuj. Perhaps Krystyna knew them. He tried her phone once more. There was no reply.Jack tried to think what it would have been like if he had done things differently; if he had persuaded Krystyna to stay, or thrown everything in his life to one side and gone wherever she was going.
He called her mobile but it was switched to automatic answer. He tried to work out what he felt:
Fear. Krystyna had never got on the bus at all but had hitched a lift and been abducted. Perhaps he should report her missing. It seemed a bit melodramatic.
Anger. She was back in Poland, thinking of no one other than herself. It was thoughtless, ungrateful and selfish.
Jealousy. There was another person with whom she had been in love all along; not Sandy, not Jack, but someone so secret that he could not be mentioned.
He did not know if he loved her, missed her, or hated her for disrupting his life. Krystyna could do anything and go anywhere, losing herself in the world, whereas Jack had withdrawn into solitude.
He knew that it would be so much easier if he forgot all about her and concentrated on his work. He returned to his desk:
Respice
Look Back
Item quam nil ad nos anteacta vetustas
Temporis aeterni fuerit quam nascimur ante
Hoc igitur speculum nobis natura futuri
Temporis exponit post mortem denique nostram.
The everlasting time before our birth
Has been to us as nothing; this, therefore, is the mirror
Which nature holds up to us, showing the time to come
When we at last must die.
Numquid ibi horribile apparet? Num triste videtur quicquam?
Is there anything terrible in that? Is there anything sad?
Non omni somno secures exstat
Is it not
The safest sleep?
He thought of Krystyna and then of Sandy lying in the road: the safest sleep. He turned back a few hundred lines.
Non potius vitae finem facis atque laboris?
Why not rather make an end of life and trouble?
He had avoided the word ‘labour’ but was ‘trouble’ sufficient? A ‘troubled mind’. Could that really describe Sandy’s emotional state? And what about Krystyna? He looked at another translation.
If life is only wretchedness, why try to add more to it?
Why not make a decent end?
He wanted to find words that expressed the fear, the anxiety, and the terror: not of dying but of living. He remembered that Creech, one of the commentators on Lucretius, had once noted on his manuscript, NB. Must hang myself when I have finished.
He did not know if he would ever see Krystyna again.
A few days later Maggie called to say that she was coming to Edinburgh. She wanted to see him and there were things they needed to talk about. Jack wondered how much he would have to tell her and how long it would take.
He chose a neutral venue, an Indian restaurant, near the university.
Maggie was surprised at the choice.
‘Are you sure? You don’t even like Indian food.’
‘I thought it would make a change.’
‘You know how it doesn’t agree with you.’
‘It’s the only place I know that’s quiet.’
‘I thought we might be going somewhere Polish.’
‘Annie’s spoken to you?’
‘There’s so much you haven’t told me, Jack. I’m really shocked. To keep it all from me…’
‘It’s over now.’
‘I’m not sure these things are ever over.’
The restaurant was dark and deserted, with red-and-gold-lacquered chairs, painted screens and a ceiling that looked like the dance floor of a 1970s discotheque.
Maggie had lost weight and wore a fitted grey dress with yellow stripes. Jack thought it looked as if it had been made out of curtain material. He noticed that it was cut lower than the clothes she had worn when they were married. He assumed she was going on to something more important later. Perhaps Guy was waiting for her.
She ordered confidently: dosa with dhal, Hyder Abadi, and a glass of lassi. Jack was less familiar with Indian food and plumped for an onion bhaji and marinated chicken tikka masala. He really didn’t want to think about this. He was in the wrong restaurant with the wrong person at the wrong time. To make it worse, the waiters were behaving as if it was their wedding anniversary. Yes, he would have a bottle of Cobra.
Maggie spoke brightly. Jack remembered how her voice was always higher when she was trying to pretend not to be nervous.
‘Annie told me what had happened,’ she began. ‘I couldn’t understand what you were doing until she mentioned the accident. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘It wouldn’t have been appropriate. I didn’t want to get you involved.’
‘We used to be married to each other.’
‘I didn’t want to talk to anyone. And I didn’t want to annoy Guy. You know, the ex-husband coming round with a spectacular tragedy just when you were settling down.’
‘That’s very considerate of you. But he wouldn’t have needed to have known.’
‘You mean you have secrets from each other?’
‘No, that’s not what I mean.’
‘What do you mean then?’
‘There’s no need to be aggressive.’
‘I’m not being aggressive. I’m being specific.’
‘Well, it’s good to see you haven’t changed, Jack.’
The starters were served. Maggie was right. It was a mistake to have come to an Indian at lunchtime. Jack wondered if he could escape by two-thirty.
‘How is Guy?’ he asked.
‘Do you really want to know?’
Guy was a sculptor in Bristol. He was older than Maggie with grown-up kids and he had inherited enough money to keep them both going. There was some kind of workshop attached to the house and so he spent most of his time at home. When he had first met him Jack had been surprised how similar he had been to himself and almost questioned Maggie about the wisdom of her departure. It was like trading in a Vauxhall Vectra for a Ford Mondeo. There didn’t seem to be much point.
‘Actually,’ Maggie was saying, ‘this is what I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Not Krystyna?’
‘Only if you want to. The fact is that Guy has asked me to marry him.’
‘I see.’
‘And I wanted you to know before anyone else. I didn’t want anyone else to tell you first.’
‘So you’ve said yes?’
‘Not quite. I just wanted to make sure you were happy.’
‘You don’t need my permission.’
‘I know that. But it would be nice to have your blessing.’
‘Of course.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘How can I mind?’ Jack said.
He did not know what he thought. If Maggie hadn’t left then everything would have been different. He would not have been out on his own on election night; he would not have killed Sandy; he would not have met Krystyna.
As they ate Jack could hardly remember being married to Maggie at all. Perhaps he had made it all up? His marriage, his children, his life. Sometimes he thought that his past was a dream and his future was carrying on without him.
The waiters asked if everything was satisfactory, but Maggie was still talking about Guy.
‘He keeps referring to “the Third Act”,’ she said, ‘as if life is some kind of unfolding drama.’
‘And it’s not?’
‘Of course it isn’t.’
Jack tried to banter.
‘I suppose I’m still in Act Two.’
‘Well, I’m sure you could move on to Act Three.’
‘I don’t think so. I think everyone left at the interval.’
Jack, don’t be like that. Is it all over with your friend?’
Friend.
‘I don’t know. I’m not sure what it was all about anyway.’
Maggie’s Hyder Abadi turned out to be lemon sole with almonds. Jack wished he had asked for something equally simple. He remembered how his life had been so much more ordered when his wife was with him. Now here she was, giving him advice about whatever love life he had left.
‘Why don’t you phone her?’ she asked.
‘She doesn’t answer.’
‘I suppose that is a bad sign. Where is she?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then why don’t you find out?’
‘I’m not sure she wants me to.’
‘Perhaps it’s a test.’
‘Maybe it is but I don’t really want to be playing games…’
Jack knew that he had to make more of an effort but he was worried about looking desperate.
‘You’ll never know unless you try,’ said Maggie.
‘I know. It just feels a bit adolescent, that’s all.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about that. No one’s looking.’
‘I don’t know. My family certainly seem to have a few opinions.’
‘Stop worrying about them, Jack. It’s your life.’
‘I know. The moral superiority can become a little tiring. But I think we have to ignore them. What have you got to lose?’
Jack recognised that he could, at least, look for Krystyna. He tried to recall the names of her friends: Eva, Myra and Magda; Josef, Tadeusz and Jan.
‘You can’t throw these things away,’ Maggie continued. ‘Especially when you get to our age…’
‘Our age? We’re not old. Anyway, you don’t seem to have had much difficulty.’
‘That’s because I made an effort. Honestly, Jack, if you’re keen you should try a bit harder.’
‘I don’t know if I am keen.’
‘Elizabeth said you were…’
‘You’ve spoken to my mother about it?’
‘She phoned. She told me she was concerned about you.’
‘That’s all I need.’
‘Honestly, Jack, it’s only because we care.’
‘Really?’
’Yes, we do. God, sometimes I despair of you.’
‘I thought most of the time you despaired of me.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go into all this. I just wanted your blessing.’
‘And you have it.’
‘Isn’t it extraordinary how we argue more when we are apart than we ever did when we were married?’
‘It must be another one of life’s little ironies,’ said Jack.
Outside it had begun to rain. He remembered looking for Krystyna all those months ago, hoping to meet her by chance around Easter Road. It couldn’t be that hard to find her again.
The streets were crowded with Hibs fans going to the first game of the season:
We are Hibernian FC
We hate jam tarts and we hate Dundee,
We will fight wherever we may be
Cause we are the mental HFC
A group of Polish men with rucksacks were smoking at the foot of Calton Hill, waiting for friends with beer so that they could all climb up together. He could hear their exchanges: Ceść – Jak si masz – dobrze – dzikuj. Perhaps Krystyna knew them. He tried her phone once more. There was no reply.
Eventually Krystyna’s friends realised that none of them knew where she was. She did not answer to anybody. She had forgotten her father’s birthday. No one had seen her.
It had been a month. Hospitals were checked. The Edinburgh flat was searched. Krystyna’s bank was asked when and where she had last withdrawn any money.
Friends and colleagues were asked when they had last seen Krystyna and why she might have gone missing. Then one of her friends mentioned Jack. He had been, she told the police, ‘most attentive’ after Sandy’s death.
‘“Most attentive”,’ the policeman was saying. He was sitting in Jack’s kitchen, having refused a cup of tea.
‘I wouldn’t put it like that.’
‘But that’s how it was put. What do you think her friend meant by “most attentive”?’
Jack wondered how many times he was going to repeat the phrase.
‘I did have a reason to see her.’
‘Of course you did. It was an unfortunate incident. You were very unlucky.’
DI Morrison asked when was the last time Jack had seen Krystyna, what her state of mind was at the time, what clothes she was wearing, whether she was on any medication (antidepressants?), and if she had told him where she was going.
‘She only stayed a few times.’
The policeman asked how long they had known each other, when exactly she had stayed with Jack, and if she had communicated with him since she had left. It could be that he was the last person to have seen her. Had she left anything behind, had he taken any photographs of her, and did either he or she keep a diary?
‘Why do you need to know all this?’ Jack asked.
‘I’m trying to assess the level of risk.’
DI Morrison asked for a description and Jack realised how unobservant he had been. He could just about manage ‘collar-length dark-brown hair, a lightly tanned complexion and green eyes’ but he had to think about whether there was colouring in the hair or highlights, if she had any marks, scars, tattoos or distinguishing features. He hesitated over her height and weight, he did not know her shoe size, and it took him a long time to remember that she wore contact lenses. He was pleased that he could say what she had been wearing when she left: the jeans, the lime-green singlet and the cream linen jacket, but he did not know any of the brands or labels and it was only afterwards, when the policeman had gone, that Jack realised that he had failed to mention the birthmark on her arm.
‘Is that everything?’ the policeman had asked.
‘So many questions.’
‘We need to do everything we can to ensure that your friend is safe.’
Your friend.
‘Of course.’
‘Was there anything in her state of mind that might lead you to believe she would put herself in danger?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Had you had an argument?’
‘Not an argument as such.’
‘As such?’
‘You know what I mean. She left.’
‘No, Mr Henderson, I don’t know what you mean. What was her state of mind when she left?’
Jack realised that he had yet to define what it had been like. Perhaps Krystyna had been relieved to go.
‘I would say resolved.’
‘Resolved?’
‘Sad but resolved.’
DI Morrison was confused.
‘They seem a bit different to me. You don’t often see people who are sad and resolved at the same time, do you?’
‘That’s the only way I can describe it. She likes mystery; people not knowing where she is.’
‘Do you know if she’s gone missing before?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Perhaps?’
‘It seems possible. But I don’t know her very well.’
‘Oh come on, Mr Henderson. If you didn’t know her very well then what was she doing in your house?’
‘She needed space, time, a place where she could escape.’
‘Do you have any male students to stay or is it just the girls?’
‘She’s not one of my students. She’s too old. It’s not like that.’
DI Morrison noticed the pictures of Maggie and the children on the kitchen dresser.
‘Is that your wife?’
‘We’re divorced.’
‘And your children have left home?’
‘They have.’
‘They must be about the same age as Miss Gorski.’
‘No, they’re younger.’
‘Have they met her?’
‘My whole family have met her. My parents, brothers. Not my wife.’
‘Of course,’ DI Morrison conceded. ‘Well, I may have to have a little chat with them. I’ll need their addresses.’
‘Do they have to know about all this?’
‘You don’t seem to understand, Mr Henderson. If your friend is missing, and there are suspicious circumstances, then the whole world is going to know about this. Not just your family.’
‘But there aren’t any suspicious circumstances. I’m sure she’s just gone away somewhere…’
‘Well, if you’re sure then there’s no need to worry. The only problem is that I need to be sure too. It can’tjust be you that’s sure, you see? That isn’t quite enough for us.’
Jack could see that DI Morrison was irritated.
‘If we get a response when we put out an appeal then there’s no need for any alarm. But if there’s no response, and we can’t find her, then things may escalate quite a bit.’
‘Escalate?’
‘We have to do everything we can. You’re not planning on going away anywhere, are you?’
‘Because it would be good to let us know if you were going anywhere far. Just in case…’
‘I’ll just be here,’ said Jack. ‘I’m always here.’
He was given a more senior officer.
‘It’s important that we look at all the possibilities,’ Chief Inspector Murray informed him.
‘You don’t mind the tape recorder, do you? I know you’ve seen one of these before.’
‘But not in these circumstances.’
‘I’m sure you normally try to avoid them. But these things happen, don’t they? How well did you know Sandy Crawford?’
‘I thought this was about Krystyna?’
‘It is.’
‘I didn’t know him at all.’
‘The problem is that I’m not sure we really believe you, sir.’
Previously Jack had been called ‘Mr Henderson’. Now he was ‘sir’.
‘But why would I have come across him? How could I possibly know him?’
‘And you never met Miss Gorski before the first incident?’
‘Of course not.’
The Chief Inspector started to write in his notebook. It seemed odd, given the fact that he had the tape recorder. Perhaps he didn’t trust it.
‘When did you first sleep with her?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘What day of the week was it?’
‘I said I didn’t.’
‘In the daytime or at night?’
‘Look…’
‘Indoors or outdoors?’
‘I have not slept with her.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘It’s the truth.’
Chief Inspector Murray leant forward.
‘Perhaps you would like me to spell this out. This is what troubles me, Mr Henderson. A young man is hit by your car.’
‘He threw himself in front of me.’
Chief Inspector Murray appeared to be changing facts that had already been accepted.
‘A young man was hit by your car. It looks like suicide but perhaps we have been a bit hasty in thinking like that. Perhaps it wasn’t suicide at all?’
‘Hasty? This is ridiculous.’
‘Let me go back to the beginning, Mr Henderson. A young man was hit by your car. His girlfriend is seen with you shortly afterwards.’
‘At the funeral. It wasn’t “shortly afterwards”.’
‘There may have been other times.’
‘There were not.’
‘I don’t know that though, do I?’ Chief Inspector Murray continued. ‘As I said, you were seen with her shortly afterwards. If you knew her before, perhaps the young man found out about it. Perhaps he was jealous. Perhaps they had a row. Whatever happens he finds himself under your car. Perhaps you and the girl needed him out of the way.’
‘This is absurd.’
‘The girl comes to live at your house.’
‘She was just staying with me temporarily, that’s all.’
‘Staying or living? It doesn’t make much difference, does it? Like many things in this case, it’s all kept a bit of a secret, isn’t it?’
‘Not really. My family knew.’
‘That’s as may be. The fact is that her family did not. She doesn’t tell anyone, as far as we can gather. Her father in Poland begins to worry because she doesn’t return his phone calls. In fact he worries so much that he calls his daughter’s friends and then they call us. Then, and what makes this even more strange, the girl really does go missing. No one knows where she is. And your story is a bit, well, shall we say, “hazy”? Would that be the right word?’
‘I’ve told you everything I can.’
‘Yes, but each time you remember a little bit more. And now I’ve begun to outline some of the possibilities, I hope you realise that we might need to keep having these little chats. Perhaps you can see why it doesn’t look very good for you, Mr Henderson? Perhaps you can understand why your memory needs to improve and why, perhaps, you might need a lawyer?’
‘I’m as worried about Krystyna as everyone,’ Jack said.
‘We’re all worried about her, Mr Henderson. That’s why I’m here. That’s why we’re all here. And that’s also why we are going to have to search your house. And, I’m afraid, your garden.’
Jack was surprised by the numbers. The search team began inside the house with an open-door investigation, inspecting cupboards and wardrobes, the loft and cellar. They looked under beds and behind furniture, pulling out clothes, crockery and Christmas decorations, looking for hiding places, signs of Krystyna, evidence of crime.
Outside, and within what the Police Search Adviser called ‘the curtilage’ of the home, men with dogs fanned out in a spiral, first in the garden and then outside its walls, looking down on to the ground, picking up objects and inspecting them in gloved hands before discarding, tagging and bagging.
They found a pair of flip-flops, a plastic water bottle and a lipstick-stained cigarette end.
Jack was asked to wait on the terrace. He remembered Krystyna bringing him a drink in the early evening after one of their swims. Nothing can add beauty to light.
Chief Inspector Murray came out to ask, ‘Is this hairbrush Miss Gorski’s or does it belong to one of your daughters?’
‘Krystyna may have used it. I don’t know.’
‘And the toothbrush?’
‘It’s mine.’
‘You use a pink toothbrush?’
‘I didn’t think about the colour.’
‘Well, I suppose you’ve got more important things to think about than toothbrushes.’
Jack called Tessa for legal advice and asked her not to tell his father. The request was ignored.
Ian Henderson telephoned immediately.
‘What the hell is going on, Jack? Why didn’t you tell me about this?’
‘There’s nothing much to say.’
‘If I knew then everything would be all right.’
Jack could hear his father’s breathing become theatrical: the slow intake and the infuriated exhalation.
‘I don’t know. First your brother Douglas deliberately throws away his marriage…’
‘He’s told you then?’
‘No, of course he didn’t. Emma told us. We haven’t seen him for weeks. But that’s not the point. That’s not why I’m ringing…’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
‘What happened? Your mother was always worried Krystyna was too young…’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘Did you have a row?’
‘No. I don’t think so.’
‘You don’t think so? It’s so hard to get a straight answer from any of you.’
Jack tried to listen to his father.
‘What am I supposed to say then?’
‘Tell them the truth, of course. Provided you’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘Of course I haven’t.’
Ian sighed. Jack could tell that he did not want to get into an argument.
‘You’ll just have to keep ringing her until she answers.’
‘I don’t think there’s much chance of that. She’s probably thrown her phone away.’
‘I thought young people were on the telephone all the time?’
‘Not Krystyna. She’s different.’
‘She’s certainly that. Sometimes I wish you’d all just stuck to the relationships you started with. Only Angus seems to have managed to do that.’
‘We don’t do it deliberately, Father.’
‘I know you don’t. But it’s so upsetting.’
‘Yes,’ said Jack. ‘That’s what people keep telling me.’
Ian wanted to make his position clear, summing up his own phone call.
‘You must inform the police about everything. Are you sure Krystyna hasn’t done herself harm?’
‘I don’t think that’s likely.’
‘Anything’s possible.’
‘I know … but not Krystyna. She’s too wilful…’
‘You think you know her well enough to be sure?’
‘Yes,’ said Jack, ‘I think I do.’
‘Well, I hope you’re right. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. I don’t want any more of your silences. Tessa can always sort out the legal side…’
Jack wished everyone would leave him alone. He should try to work, he decided, even if he could not concentrate: Praeterea pro parte sua, quodcumque alit auget, redditur. For every benefit requital must be given.
He kept stopping, unable to find his rhythm: Ut noscas splendore novo res semper egere…
He thought of each word in turn: You may see things need light ever new. Things for ever need renewal of shining. The phrases did not fall as he wanted them. Perhaps he needed to be less literal.
He decided to stop, make a cup of tea and go to bed. He picked up his pen, crossed out the work he had done so far, and wrote in one quick sentence: Things forever need renewal to shine.
All he had wanted was to be kind; to do the right thing.