A Life Under Control
Michael burst through the frosted glass doors of the police station and strode straight up to the duty sergeant. Raw panic flickered in every movement, in every dart of his exhausted eyes; the deep bruises under them made it clear he hadnt slept properly in days.
I need to report a missing person! he blurted out, nearly breathless from anxiety. My fiancées vanished! She just disappeared! Didnt show up to work, none of her friends know anything Somethings happened to her! Ive already called every hospital in Londonno ones even had a Jane Sykes admitted!
The duty sergeant, a burly, world-weary man, set aside his paperwork with a disgruntled sigh and peered at Michael over the rim of his spectacles. Each tap of his pen against the chaotic heap of folders on his desk seemed to echo the tension already knotting the air.
How long has your fiancée been missing? he asked flatlyno trace of sympathy, just a fatigue worn thin from a long day of similar panicked pleas. Experience told him that most so-called missing persons were nothing of the sort: people forgetting to charge their mobile, going off to Brighton for the weekend, or just in need of a break.
Three days, Michael replied quickly, snapping the elastic band on his wrist to steady himselfa trick Jane herself had once taught him. He inhaled deep, fighting the surge of his racing heart. His palms were clammy, and his mouth had gone dry, but he pressed on.
Ive done everything I canshes not anywhere! Jane would never just leave her job! Shes a nursery teachershe adores those kids! Their terms ending next week and she wouldnt miss that for anything. She loves her class! We were thinking of getting married, about to give notice for the registry! His voice trembled, and he stopped to swallow the lump of emotion threatening to choke him. She just wouldnt walk awaynot from her children, not from our life together!
Finally, the sergeant straightened ever so slightly, interest piqued by something in Michaels desperationa realness that cut through the fatigue. Hed seen his share of needless panic, but this? This was different: Michaels fear almost tangible.
I see, rumbled the sergeant, watching Michael with new scrutiny. And have you spoken to her family?
Shes only got her mother, lives up in Leeds. Ive met her twice. Mrs. Sykes said Jane hasnt rung in ages; theyre not that close anymore. There was some row a couple of years backJane never told me why. Michaels voice faded as he slumped into the plastic chair by the desk, cradling his head in his hands. The throb in his temples was now a pounding, spreading out into a clawing emptiness across his chest. Worry for Jane held him in a vice: he could hardly think straight. Her mum said they hadnt spoken, but Jane never explained why. I asked, she always brushed me off.
He remembered Janes stubbornness, how carefully she kept certain things to herselfhow impossible it was to get through her guard, no matter how he asked. It had wounded him: wasnt he owed the truth, havent he earned trust after all these months together?
He needed to know everythingwhere she went, who she saw, what she thought, every plan. That was how he felt safe, as if he could keep her from harm just by keeping close. Hed always insisted it was care, just wanting what was best. But now, recalling that stubborn look in her eyes, guilt pricked at him for only a moment. Maybe he had pushed too hard? But there was no time for regret. The most important thing was finding Jane. Michael straightened, ready for whatever question came next, ready to do anything for her.
You ever think youre overdoing it with Jane? his workmate had once teased, watching Michael dial her number for the fifth time in a morning. Surprised shes not sick of you yetmy girlfriend wouldve told me to shove it after the second call, honest.
Michael had blushed, but masked it with an imperious tone: She appreciates that I care. Janes a bit naive. If I dont keep an eye on her, who knows what could happen? And then Id have to pick up the pieces. He gave a forced grin, hoping it looked casual. Better to keep a finger on the pulse, thats what I say.
The colleague just snorted and shook his headeach to their own. As long as Jane wasnt complaining, it was none of his business.
Room Five, interrupted the sergeant, glancing up with a measured look. Theyll take your statement there. Tell them everything you know.
Michael nodded stiffly and made his way to the assigned room, laying out every detail: Janes job at the nursery, her routines, her favourite haunts, even her habit of carrying a big blue handbag if she planned to be out long. He described what shed been wearing the day she disappeared, who shed been meeting, her interests and quirks.
The officer taking his statement listened intently, jotting notes. But there was something off in his expression: surprise. Not even parents could often recall so much about their grown children, and this young man had only been with Jane half a year. He knows everything about her almost like a stalker, the policeman mused to himself.
It was something to keep in mind, but, first and foremost: the girl needed to be found.
Hed start with the basics: checking with neighbours, reviewing CCTV near Janes flat, contacting her colleagues. Every minute could count.
***********************
After leaving the station, Michael hurried to Janes best friends place. His footsteps echoed off the worn stone stairwell of her run-down block. His heart hammered as he climbed higher, hope and dread wrestling inside him that hed find some clueor, at least, comforthere.
Lucy lived in a council estate on the edge of town. Michael never minded her friendship with Jane: Lucy was guileless, friendly, quite the simple soul. Hed always felt cleverer acquaintances might threaten his plans, might challenge the way he looked after Jane. Friends who told her his kind of care was too much, not normal. Hed always managed to distance such meddlers, one way or another.
Lucy opened the door, surprised to see him on her porch. She fiddled with her apron and blinked in confusion.
Jane hasnt been in touch? Michael demanded, barely concealing his growing irritation. Youre meant to be her best mate! Arent you worried she hasnt called? Ive been to the policefiled a missing person! When did you last see her?
About two months ago, Lucy replied sheepishly, her voice soft, eyes dropping to the floor. We dont see each other much lately. Im getting married, andwell, Janes so much prettier than me, I dont want my fiancé noticing her. Hes loaded, you seesmart, caring
Michael didnt let her finish. He threw up his hands, spun on his heel, and slammed the door behind him, pounding back down the stairs, mind spinning: Doesnt anyone know anything? Where the hell are you, Jane?
He never saw Lucys sly smile after hed gone, never caught the glint of mischief as she pulled out her phone, tapping out a quick message to a memorised number. Her lips curled in satisfaction, a chess player moving her piece on the board.
***************************
Michael stormed into his own flat, nearly barrelling into his elderly neighbour, Mrs. Brown, as she stepped into the corridor. She shrieked after him, hands waving, then thumped on his door, demanding an apology he didnt have to give. He barely even heard herhe was already halfway to pacing his sitting room, his fury and frustration gnawing at him.
Downstairs, Mrs. Brown found her friends already gathered on the communal bench. She regaled them, voice indignant and animated: Knocked me right off my feet, that young man! Didnt even say sorry! The old ladies leaned in, soaking up the gossip for their evenings amusement.
Meanwhile, Michael strode from window to window. How could he have missed such an obvious gap in Janes life? Anger and confusion surged together, his fists clenching white. Shed lied to him, hadnt she? Shed said she was off visiting Lucy every weekbut clearly she wasnt. Where the hell had she been? With whom? How had she dared to deceive him?
Hed controlled every tiny aspect of Janes lifeher clothes, her hair, her make-up. Hed chosen her job for hera reputable nursery for MPs kids in Notting Hill, convinced her it was for the best. Hed lied to the police: Jane actually hated the place, loathed the entitled parents, and often came home exhausted. Hed dismissed her complaints without thought. He knew best.
Jane had been his puppet, always sweet, always obedient. Never dared an independent word or decision. And now, this betrayal. Shed had a secret lifehidden, out of sight, and the knowledge burned like acid.
Just you wait, Jane, Michael muttered through clenched teeth, fingers digging crescents into his palms. Once we find you, youll have some explaining to do. Ill know everythingwhere youve been, what youve been up to. You wont make another move without me knowing about it, not ever again! He began to pace anew, plotting out questions for the police, new places to hunt, vowing not to stop until Jane was back under his watchful eye…
*********************
Mr. Michael Godwin? This is the police, about your missing person report.
At the time of the call, Michael had finally dozed off, worn ragged by his thoughts. But hearing police, he snapped upright, adrenaline flooding through him. In a heartbeat, he pictured Jane being foundher eyes shameful, apologising, even cryingwhile he, stern but loving, forgave her, put her straight. Had they finally found her?
Youve found Jane, have you? Where is she? Ill come straight away! He practically shouted, hope and dread tumbling in his voice.
No need to rush, came the calm, clipped reply. Yes, weve located her. In fact, she came in herself after learning she was being searched for. Shes absolutely fine.
What? Waitwhere is she? Why wont you tell me? Jane is my fiancée! Michaels voice broke with anguish, confusion knotting his stomach.
Its quite simple: Miss Jane Sykes expressly asked we do not provide you with any information as to her whereabouts. She further stated she does not consider you her fiancée, and said she would be making a complaint against you.
Michael froze, phone pressed to his ear, unable to process it. Jane didnt want to see him? Shed ended itofficially? Threatening to file a report? He sank onto the edge of his bed and felt the world shift beneath him, his thoughts a tumbling mess, a tightness choking his throat.
What have I ever done to her? he hissed through gritted teeth, rage colouring his face crimson. He gripped his phone so hard his knuckles turned white, mind racing with shock and indignation. Hadnt he done everything for her, shown her the way, done what was needed to protect her?
Youve been harassing her, the officer replied, gentle but firm. Best advice? Leave her alone. Jane came in with a very high-profile solicitorone of those who charges thousands for a letter. She was picked up afterwards by a personal driver and bodyguard. Clearly, shes well looked-after. Word to the wiselet her go.
That stung worst of all. Michael shot to his feet, fury erupting. He hurled things, knocked over furniture, shards of pottery littering the carpet, a painting crashing loudly from the wall. He pounded the walls, breath heavy, head pounding.
He eventually slumped on the bed, staring at nothing. It was finally dawning on himJane hadnt just left, shed protected herself. Built a shield he couldnt penetrate. The police wouldnt help him. Hed never felt so helplessnever truly faced life without absolute control.
The doorbell rattled. He started violently. For a second he feared it might be Jane herselfor the policebefore peering through the spyhole. It was Alice, Janes colleague: pale-faced, soft around the edges, with blond hair scraped into a messy ponytail. Sweet, really, if a bit plain.
Alice hovered on the threshold, flushing, fiddling with her bag. When he opened the door, she shrank back as if worried to intrude.
I heard Janes missing, and that the police refused to help. I just wanted to be here for you. Everyone at the nursery knows about you twoI thought you might need a friend.
For a moment, all Michaels bitterness and grief roared for expression: he was left, betrayed, alone. But looking at Alice, trembling on his doorstep, her concern so genuine, some of the storm inside him calmed.
Thanks, come on in, he managed, forcing a wan smile. He tried for composure, but his voice still wobbled under the strain. The company it helps.
He led her inside to the living room, where she perched timidly at the edge of the sofa. Michael retreated to the kitchen, forcing himself to steady his hands as he filled the kettle. Everything still churned withina mix of resentment, anger, confusionbut he struggled to mask it.
Tea, coffee? he called, aiming for normality.
Tea, pleasewith lemon, if youve any, Alice replied, eyes downcast.
Michael nodded, slicing a few wedges of lemon. As the kettle boiled, he watched Alice in the reflection. She was tiny, soft-featured, nervously fidgeting with her sleevenothing like Janes bold presence. Jane had wit, confidence, a knack for putting people in their place. Alice seemed malleable, eager to please, someone who would never challenge him.
Perhaps thats for the best, Michael thought, arranging mugs on a tray, pouring the steaming tea. With someone like Alice, thered be no will to break, no pride to mend. He carried the tray back and set it on the coffee table.
I just this isnt like Jane, to disappear, Alice murmured, wrapping her hands round the mug. Warmth and sympathy glowed in her soft gaze.
Michael took a fortifying sip, but still felt frozen inside. She wouldnt have left of her own accord. Something mustve happened. Even if the police wont help, Ill find the truth, whatever it takes.
Alice leaned forward, visibly impressed. Youre so persistent. I dont think Id have it in me to keep going like this.
Michael mustered a thin smile, grateful for her approval. As long as he was searching for Jane, Alice would be company, distractiona gentle presence to fill the void. Later who could say? For now, hed keep things as they always were: firmly in hand.
After all, Michael told himself, feeling the old grip of control return, thats what he did best.
