Mixed Messages

#1

1 Day After

I throw my soggy pillow across the room, it hits a picture Lucas and I took last Christmas and suddenly the sick feeling washes over me again. I want to get up, but the bed gives me comfort. Luca's scent lingers on the sheets and my heart aches at the thought of his name. I glance at the digital clock on the bedside table, wanting time to run backwards, wanting to stop him from leaving at all. I fiddle with my phone but I don't turn the screen on, though I anticipate it ringing any second now. A lump forms in my throat and a knot ties itself on my heart strings, as I replay the events from last night.

The officer's stern look when he asked me to identify the body they believed to be Lucas is burnt into my mind. The walls around me seemed withered and reflective of the sadness I felt, which is probably because I threw any object I could find at them. Lucas isn't dead. He swore me a forever many years ago. He can't be gone.

Fighting against grief, I force myself up. I stand still for a few seconds to allow my body to adjust to the sudden change. I tread over to the bathroom, at a lazy pace. I take a quick look at my reflection on the mirror, appalled. Dark circles have formed around my eyes, my skin is irritated and blotchy; my hair which is normally a golden blonde arranged in curls is now musky and damp. I'm still wearing the clothes from yesterday and my odour should have stayed with the day before, because it wasn't pleasant. I walk out of the bathroom and head for the stairs. As I descend I hear the phone on the landing ring. I freeze and goose bumps overtake me. Only one thought bounces around my head; a name. My heart started beating fast as I quickly make my way to the device.

I hold my breath. A familiar gruff voice greets me. "Hello, Miss Martin, this is Officer Harley. We would like to further discuss the event from last night, please give us a call back. Sooner than later, preferably," I heard him sigh as he finished, "Thanks."

He sounded irritated, unlike the patient and calming tone he used last night. I make a frown, wondering what got him so cross.

"No I won't call back. This case has nothing to do with me. Or Lucas," I mumble to myself, glaring furiously at the phone.

Without another thought I grab my car keys from the hook by the door and clamber into the driver's seat. Looking at the dash board I see the time flicker up, 6.42am. The sun is starting to set, the joyous yellow that spreads across the sky pains my eyes. Aggressively putting the car into gear I rack my brains of where to look first. Anger builds up inside of me, why couldn't he have just called, if he charged his phone I would have been able to call him and we wouldn't be in this situation right now.

First stop is his work, the tall office buildings on the outskirts of the city centre. I drive slowly, scanning every car and pedestrian I pass, just in case he happens to be driving or walking this way. I huff and puff, more and more growing agitated. When I pull up in the empty car park I turn off the ignition and hit the steering wheel hard with my fist. Tears spill from my eyes as I just wish to see his car parked across from me. Rubbing my bleeding knuckles I try to calm down, knowing this anger and distress isn't helping the situation. "Pull yourself together Alice! Crying and drawing blood isn't going to magically make Lucas appear! Come on. Think harder. Where is he?" I tell myself, starting off as a whisper and ending on a yell.

My eyes grow more and more tired by the minute, I feel exhausted and know my baby feels the same way, as he restlessly kicks me. Sleep, rest, food and hydration is what we need right now, not searching for someone early hours of the morning being sleep deprived and worried sick. But he isn't just someone. Lucas is everyone. He's my soon to be husband, my best friend and my baby's daddy. He has to be here. He can't just leave. He can't do that to me. To us. I know he wouldn't do that; he's still here, around, close by. I know it.

I see a car come speeding into the car park. My heart jumps a beat. It isn't Lucas's silver Mercedes, but he could be getting a ride from a co-worker... I shake my head at the ridiculous thought and drag my aching body from the car as quickly as I can. I watch the male figure checking his reflection in the rear mirror of his car; he sweeps his maroon matted hair to one side and gives himself a smirk before slowly climbing out of his car and straightening his grey suit.

"Excuse me," I attempt to shout, my voice cracks and it comes out as more of a whisper. He carries on striding across the car park without noticing me. "Excuse me!" I yell, after clearing my throat.

He turns around swiftly on his heel, his eyes going wide when he sees me. He squints his eyes and looks me up and down, looking embarrassed as walks little closer to me. "Sorry, were you talking to me?" he asks, pointing at himself and looking puzzled.

"Do you work here?" I bluntly spill, wanting to cut to the chase.

"Yes... Is there something I can help you with?" He asks, trying not to stare too hard.

"Lucas... My partner, he didn't come home last night. The last time I spoke to him he was going to work, I was just looking for some information of when and where he was last seen," I say, trailing off slowly as the man looks at me blankly.

"There aren't any Lucas's in my department... Sorry. I hope you find him soon," he says, before quickly turning around and heading for the entrance.

Sighing I dig my feet into the hard concrete and storm after him. When making it inside, the spacious reception is deserted. Scanning the area, I didn't see anyone on the big red plush chairs by the window, or by the lift, not even by the vending machines. Having yet another bad feeling about this whole situation I march over to the reception desk, refusing to be defeated.

I bite my bottom lip and roll my eyes, waiting impatiently to speak to the short plump lady working on the computer. "Hi there, sorry about that. I just didn't want to lose my place, you know what it's like when you're in the middle of something and then you lose your place and then you're all muddled up when you go back to it," she chuckles.

I stare at her with a serious face, not caring about her losing her place in this piece of all important work. Nothing is more important than finding Lucas right now.

"I'm looking for Lucas Collins. He didn't come home last night and I'm unable to contact him. Would you be able to find out what time he finished work yesterday, please?" I ask, trying my best to sound polite.

The receptionist looks at me sympathetically, as she sits with her arms crossed listening to my every word carefully. "I'm sorry to hear that... I'll check on yesterday's signing in records," she says, looking unsure about whether or not she should be giving out this information. Squinting her eyes she follows every column along the spreadsheet. "Lucas Collins did you say?" She asks me, with her eyes still focused on the computer.

"Yes, that's right," I confirm, my eyes lighting up with hope.

"Lucas didn't sign in or out of this building yesterday..." She says, looking at me apologetic.

"W-what?" My heart drops, instantly knowing something is wrong. "Maybe he forgot to sign in?" I ask, resting my mind at ease at the thought.

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be possible. To go through those security locked doors staff must scan their badge, that logs on their entering and leaving time on the system," she tells me, her eyes fixed on the computer screen. Her eyebrows knit together and creases appear on her forehead, "looking at Lucas's work timetable, he doesn't work on Tuesdays... He hasn't since he started working here..."

My head suddenly feels woozy and I can no longer focus on what the woman is telling me, her words sounding blurry in my tunnel of confusion.

Where is Lucas?

Why has he been lying to me?

What is he hiding?