A look flickers over his face, gone before I can put a name to it.
‘Honestly? I think I’ll be so relieved, I won’t say much. I’ll just want to give her a hug.’
My lips part to ask Otis what he’ll do if Alexa doesn’t want to hug him, but as his hands flex against the steering wheel, I decide better of it. I don’t want to make him more tense or put words to thoughts he’s probably already thinking. But even if I’m silent, there’s no denying that Otis needs to face the fact that maybe Alexa hasn’t left for some space. Maybe, for her, this is the end of their relationship.
I glance at him, then settle my attention on the road ahead. The tarmac is filled with cars now, central Manchester’s hustle and bustle well and truly around us. Red-brick buildings mingle with glossy high-rise offices and ornate Victorian façades. Shopfronts advertise sales and must-have purchases, shouting that the path to happinessis through spending more, more, more. Everywhere I look, I see colour, signage and people.
Dark spots dance in my vision as I remember who I used to be when I lived here. A woman who went for cocktails with friends. Who loved to listen to live music. I haven’t done any of those things in so long. I haven’t been back here in a long time, either. Not since the last loss pushed me out. The panicked tingling in my head tells me I was wise to stay away.
‘The car park is up ahead, a few buildings down from the university,’ Otis says, his steady voice freeing me from the jaws of anxiety. A few moments later, he swings into the four-storey concrete structure, going so fast he almost clips his wing mirror.
With a nervous glance at Otis, I wonder what’s going through his mind right now. I wonder how he will feel when he sees Alexa.
Let’s just hope she wants to see him, I think.
While Otis searches for a parking spot, an awful worry undermines my confidence. Alexa’s disappearance is strange – stranger than even the village gossip suggested – but maybe she designed it to be that way. Maybe by helping Otis, I am doing the opposite of providing the help I want to give her.
The decision to assist a man I don’t know in hunting for his wife might not be the wisest choice I could have made, but as Otis parks, it’s too late for me to back out now.
‘Ready?’ he asks.
‘Ready,’ I confirm.
Together, we head towards Albion Street. The crowds are even more intimidating now I’m out of the car. Walking through the mass of people, I make my body as small as possible, but shrinking can’t protect me from the sensory overload.
I’m preoccupied with putting one foot in front of the other when Otis comes to a sudden stop.
‘There it is,’ he says, pulling me into an empty doorway and pointing to a shabby building ahead with Variety Food Store written above the door in fading red letters. Otis can’t hide his shock. ‘Is this really where Lex has been going for the last few days?’
‘It must be.’
‘But look at it. The place is a crumbling wreck! It’s not the type of shop Lex would be drawn to. So why is she?’
‘I don’t know, Otis. Your guess is as good as mine.’
Otis lets out a long, steady breath before glancing at his watch. ‘It’s half-twelve now. What should we do?’
‘We should wait.’
So, that’s what we do. We perch on a bench opposite the storefront, observing the people who enter the nondescript building. With it being around lunchtime, there’s a steady stream of customers. Two men in business shirts buy a soft drink each and a man in a tracksuit purchases a pack of cigarettes. A herd of students stop for snacks. The customers make their purchases and go, but none of them is Alexa Clarke.
My bum is numb from sitting in the cold by the time Otis checks his watch again.
‘It’s after three,’ he says. ‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know,’ I reply, scanning the street to see if Alexa has miraculously appeared. ‘Maybe she didn’t come here today?’
‘But Lex has gone to this shop at one o’clock for the last two days. Why would she stop today?’
‘Maybe she isn’t in Manchester anymore, or maybe she saw us waiting outside and walked away.’
‘Why would she do that?’
‘Because she might not be ready to see you, Otis,’ I say softly, but my answer only upsets him further.
‘No, that can’t be it.’ Otis pulls out his phone and logs into Alexa’s bank. He chokes when the page loads.
‘What?’ I ask.