Igor Never Returned From His Holiday: When Your Husband Disappears by the Seaside, a Wife’s Search, Tense Family Reunion, and the Painful Truth That Comes Home

Since his holiday, Stanley never came back

Hasnt your husband written or called yet?
Not a word, Vera, not after nine days, nor forty, replied Mavis, pulling at the strings of her stout work apron as she laughed it off.
So hes gone astray, perhaps, or well, Vera nodded, her voice a soft echo of sympathy from the next terrace over. You just wait, love. Has the police answered at all?
Not a peep, Vera dear, like mute little fishes, all of them.
Thats fate for you

This talk weighed on Mavis. She gripped the broom in her other hand and swept the fallen leaves gathering outside her brick house. Autumn of 1988 lingered, slow and drippingorange and auburn swirling endlessly, always licking at the path the moment she swept it clean. She turned and doubled back, her broom gathering the leaves and all their musty secrets.

Three years had drifted by since Mavis had retired from the local NHS as a nurse, finally reaping a little rest. But last month, shed had to take up the post of caretaker at the council estate; the pension just didnt stretch, and no other work had cropped up quickly.

They had lived unremarkably, like any other English familynever badly, never grand. A hardworking pair, raising their boy. Stanley drank only on the proper occasions; at the factory he was well liked, did his bit, no trace of scandal or wandering eyes. Mavis, for her part, had the certificates and badges from years spent soothing patients at St. Augustines Hospital.

Then Stanley took his holiday by the Sussex seaside and vanished. Mavis didnt suspect anything wrong at first. If he wasnt phoning, she told herself, it must mean he was enjoying his rest. But when he failed to return as promised, she started ringing roundlocal hospitals, police, even the chapel of rest.

She sent a telegram to their son, Harry, at his Army stationfather gone missing, and later managed a phone call. Between them, they pieced together the facts: Stanley checked out of the B&B, never got on the train home. Gone. Once more, the circuit: hospitals, morgues.

At the machine works, his colleagues shrugged. Our bit was the holiday, Mavis. Wont get involved in family business. If he doesnt clock in when due, sacked for absenteeism.

She wanted desperately to search the coast herself, but Harry dissuaded her.
What could you do down there? My weeks leave is soon, Ill go if they let me. Army kit helps, people listen.
Mavis settled, filling her hours with chores, pushing off the darker thoughts. Visiting the police station daily was just routine nowcalmer inside, but still no word. The caretaker job helped too. Sweeping, she stayed upright, like her sturdy broom. Late in the nights, Mavis weptangry at herself and at fate, for hurling such trials her way so late in life. Heavier than sorrow was the unknowing.

Stanley returned to her as sharply as hed vanished.

There he stood, in the same navy suit hed left in, no bag, no case. Just standing, collar turned up, hands buried in his pockets, watching Mavis sweep the square with her habitual, dogged spirit.

She didnt notice him at first, nor realised how long hed been standing there, until Harry called out.

Stan! Harry!
Mavis dropped her broom and rushed, arms flung wide, like some homebound bird, colliding against Stanleys chest, holding tight.
Stanley, after a moment, held her too.
Come on, lets go home and get this over with, Harry sounded impatient. Mavis could feel it in his voice, in his crisp, military gait.
Let me hug you, Harrysince spring I havent seen you.
Hello, Mum. Hello. Its coldlets go inside.
Why didnt you call, Stan? I couldve got things readythe place a tip, nothing cooked.
I havent come for pies, Mum, Harry muttered. He promised, and here.
The urge to ask where, how, and why was therebut more pressing was to set tea at the table, fill hungry bellies, let them rest. Stanley perched silent on a stool, head ducked, hands clasped.

Mum, please sit.
Yet Mavis rattled about in the kitchen, all clattering crockery.
Mum, I found Dad staying with another woman.
Mavis turned, staring at Harry, then Stanley. Her husband sat, defeated as a scolded schoolboy, thin and glum, staring gloomily at the floor, not daring to meet her eyes.

With another woman? Whats going on, Stan?
All the possibilities shed imaginedrobbed, stranded, beaten, her poor husband wandering English towns, in need of breadseemed far away now.
He never meant to come home, Mum. He stayed with Mrs. Greena little cottage by the sea. He didnt want to leave.
Mavis blinked at him, the room unreal.
Didnt want to?
I realised my life was all wrong, Stanleys voice wavered, a tremor breaking through. Just the mill, the work, the Sunday choresweek in, week out. Never free. I found out I was missing something I needed. And I didnt want to come back.
Oh, freedom, is it! Mavis flushed with anger.
And why, Harry, did you drag this parcel of freedom back here? Whatwanted to bring me down, is that it? Better if youd told me he was in the morguethatd be honest. I wept myself sick for months and hes off finding himself at the seaside
Maybe, Mavis, I wanted to start afresh.
No, Stanyou werent after a new life. You just couldnt take the boring English rain anymore, got baked in the sun and ran off to behave like a scoundrel. Any real man would have come home, got divorced, then started over, straight and true with all involved. I want you goneout!
Stanley rose, dragging his feet down the hall.
Noout, and thats that. Like you never came! I cantwont! cried Mavis, ready to break.

Dad, go, Harrys order echoed down the hallway.

She saw Stanley again a fortnight later.

She was out sweeping rainwater from the high street when she noticed him waiting by the gate, swamped in an old mac and daft woolly cap.

Mavis, he called, louder the second time.

She lifted her head, eyes blank. Hed broken something inside her; perhaps she was willing to forgive, but even dreaming she could not step close again. He came towards her regardless.

I’ve come backtook a job at the mill again. Not a foreman, but a place as a worker. Will you let me in?
She leaned on the broom, looking at him:
Oh, Ill let you into sign the divorce papers. Right now.
You havent forgiven me, then?
If you really understood, why come at all?
When I left, Mrs. Green said if I went, not to bother coming back. So I left, Mavisand came here.
She barked a bitter laugh. Neither here nor there, Stannobody wants a man like that. You came back because Harry made you. He wouldnt leave without you, and thats the only reason youre here. So go, live how you wished. Dont hover round me. Off you trot! she snapped, brushing the broom smartly over his shoes.

Mavis turned, sweeping the rest of the path with fresh determination, her every movement a dismissal. After a while she looked backStanley was gone. She even sighed, as if a stone slid from her chest. Shed feared hed stay and she might forgive In dreams, those who wound you are often shielded by your own heart.