Closing the book, Lena wondered where their old home movies were as she began to think she should maybe select something to give to the police. All the while she ignored the flashing light on her business line, refusing to even listen to the messages, ten in all. Now she was intent on trying to recall where the tapes would be, opening one cupboard after another, until she found the old box with them in, all neatly marked by year and occasion. She thought she’d thrown out her old video player but just in case she decided to check and see if it was still in the garage. As she ran down the stairs Agnes appeared, asking if she wanted lunch, but she waved her away, heading out into the garden through the glass conservatory doors. Harry jumped up, startled, as she ran through the rear door of the garage.
‘I’m looking for the old video machine,’ she told him as she turned round. He shrugged and said that he couldn’t recall ever seeing one, but offered to move some boxes that had been left neatly stacked and stored on one side of the garage. She was determined to find it, hurling boxes aside, along with old duvets, cushions and rugs no longer wanted, muttering that they could all go to the charity shop.
‘I’ll take them away for you,’ he said, having no intention of doing so but instead planning to take them home for himself.
Lena was frantic, becoming hysterical as she threw one thing aside after another, until she let out a shriek on seeing the video recorder. Panic stricken, she asked Harry over and over if he could see the remote for it, but he was doubtful they would find it amongst the mess that was now strewn around. Suddenly she saw it and grabbed it, along with the video player, and wouldn’t let Harry carry it back to the house, insisting on taking it herself.
‘Will you need me to set it up for you, Mrs Fulford?’
‘No I can manage, thank you.’
He watched her stumble across the big garden – some of the stone steps around the fishpond were very uneven where the paths from the shrubbery led up to the house. He shut the door and looked over the mess she had left, before methodically he began to sort through the contents of the boxes, selecting what to keep for himself and what at some point he’d take to the charity shop. He had been busy for about fifteen minutes when Agnes appeared and said that Mrs Fulford did not require him for the rest of the day so he could go home. Curious, she moved further into the garage.
‘What are you doing?’
‘She wanted the old video machine, said all this junk can be thrown out.’
Agnes immediately started choosing items for herself, remarking that her daughter could do with some cushions and she’d have the duvet. Between them they began to divide up the goods, and Harry was thankful he’d already packed one box for himself. Agnes was grabbing items and putting them aside, saying they would be useful for Natalie as she didn’t have much and had recently moved into a new flat. The two of them were like scavengers, checking labels and making their selections, and never at any time did they discuss Amy. Eventually Harry suggested that perhaps Agnes should return to the house in case she was needed. Agnes was sweating with the exertion of repacking the boxes but no way was she going to let Harry have all the goods; she’d even got a nice bathroom and toilet set, plus towels and a bathrobe. He wondered how she was going to take everything home, as he knew she didn’t own a car, but by now he reckoned he’d got the best of what was on offer.
Delving into one of the tool cabinets he took out a reel of thick packing tape and began binding his boxes shut. ‘I’ll give you a few quid to take these to my daughter’s, otherwise I’ll have to get a taxi,’ Agnes offered hopefully.
Harry simply said she should pack up and he’d maybe help her out in the morning, but he was going home. He pressed the button to open the automatic garage doors. The Lexus was parked by the front door of the house so he walked along the back lane, and then drove it back to the garage to stack up his boxes. Agnes was still there on her knees inspecting some pillowcases and stuffing them into the cardboard box by her side. While he opened the boot of the Lexus and carried out his share, Agnes carried on rummaging through the remainder of the boxes, taking out some pans and dishes.
‘You’ll be needing a removal van,’ he said, packing up the Lexus.
By the time he had stacked his items and closed the boot, Agnes was finishing off the packing using the tape; she was red-faced and her hair hung in sweaty rat-tails. He remembered the watch left in his jacket and collected it. Agnes said she would call a local taxi unless he would return and help her but he pretended not to hear.
‘See you tomorrow then,’ Harry said as he used the automatic key ring to close the garage door. He then drove off; it was not unusual for him to take the Lexus home and return with it the following day – often on occasions Mrs Fulford had called him back, wanting to be taken somewhere or other, but he hoped she wouldn’t bother him today as he was intending to unpack his goods and see what he could sell on.
Lena was sitting in the TV room, and having plugged in the video player she was choosing tapes ready to begin watching the footage of Amy. Hunched on the stone-flagged floor, with the remote in her hand, she pressed play: nothing happened. With a sinking feeling she realized the remote needed new batteries. She was close to tears with frustration as she went into the kitchen to ransack drawers, knowing they always kept a selection. Frantically she tossed aside neat stacks of napkins and tea cloths until she found a box of AA batteries and returned to the TV room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Agnes had by now packed up virtually everything else, leaving only a few items that neither she nor Harry wanted. Returning to the house she saw the TV room door shut, so headed into the kitchen and stood surveying the mess. She began to methodically refold the napkins and tea cloths, restacking them into the drawer as she checked her watch – it was almost four o’clock, just another hour and she would be able to leave. The telephone rang on Mrs Fulford’s business line, but she answered it anyway and in a posh voice announced, ‘Mrs Fulford’s residence.’ It was the sales assistant from Kiddy Winks asking to speak to Mrs Fulford and so Agnes informed her she was unavailable but would pass on a message.
‘It’s Gail, and I really do need to speak to Mrs Fulford about arrangements for delivery – could you ask her to call me?’
‘Yes, Gail, I will do that.’
Agnes replaced the phone, and wrote down the time and name for Mrs Fulford to return the call. She hesitated as to whether or not she should go into the TV room but decided against it. She stood in the hallway listening, but hearing nothing she returned to the kitchen and closed the door, then rang Natalie.
‘Hello dear, I’ve got some lovely things that you will be able to use. Mrs Fulford was going to take them to a charity shop but there’s some very nice bed linen and a double duvet.’
She listened as her daughter asked if there was any news about Amy. She gave a sigh and said in a sorrowful voice that as far as she knew there was nothing.
‘Oh my goodness, that is just terrible,’ Natalie said, mimicking her mother’s tone.
‘Yes, just awful, and there’s a nice bathroom set and some pots and pans.’
‘I’ve got to go, Mum, another caller on the line.’
Agnes replaced the phone. There always seemed to be another call; she was hardly ever able to have a lengthy conversation with her daughter. Still, she reckoned, she’d be with her at the weekend, and they’d have a nice time sorting through the goods. Only now did she really think about Amy, and counted the days in her mind. Missing for almost five days – she didn’t think it was a good sign, and for the first time she seriously wondered if something terrible had happened. She knew that if it was Natalie missing she would have been in a terrible state, not shutting herself up in the TV room like Mrs Fulford – she’d have been out searching the streets.