Chosen Child (13 page)

Ella straightened up and surveyed their work, then took
Soraya’s paintbrush. ‘No problem, it’s spag bol. As requested by her ladyship.
That looks great, sweetheart – we’ll leave it here to dry before it goes up to
your room. You can help me make dinner while Daddy’s freshening up.’

Soraya came over to Rick and sniffed. ‘Pooh! You pong!’

‘So would you if you’d just run ten K!’

He seized the child and tickled her, amazed he was managing
to do such a daddy-like thing, feeling like this. Soraya shrieked, twisted from
his grasp and ran inside, giggling.

Rick wandered round to the back garden. The shed sneered at
him and he glowered at it. He’d been terrified there would be a smell, even
after Gareth was safely underground. And even more terrified Ella would notice
what he was doing. It hadn’t been easy, lifting half the floor, digging a deep
enough hole – he was sure the body was in what would be described by the media
as ‘a shallow grave’. As for manhandling Gareth, stiff and reeking of something
other than a man in a plastic bin bag – it had been desperate. He’d scattered a
load of lime around the body – it was supposed to get rid of animal smells as
well as do whatever it did to the soil. It had worked, and now that he’d
chucked out the bone meal, bought especially to create a stink of a different
kind, the shed was back to its normal smell-free state. Which didn’t stop him
having nightmares about it nearly every night.

He stuck his head in to check, then saw a man in the garden
next door was trying to attract his attention. Ah – the new neighbour. He’d
moved in on Monday with an older woman who Rick assumed was his mother, but
beyond a wave and, ‘Good morning’, they hadn’t spoken. Rick strode over to the
fence separating the two plots of land.

‘Hi, I’m Owen Fife. Pleased to meet you.’

Rick shook hands. Owen was somewhere between thirty-five and
forty, with a shock of dark hair that was greying at the temples. His handshake
was firm.

Rick glanced towards the other house. ‘Has your mother
settled in?’

‘In a way. She has her own place in Penzance, but she’s
staying with me for a few weeks while she’s recovering from a broken leg.’

The expression on the other man’s face was wry, and Rick
grinned. ‘Ah well, at least it’s a bungalow. Will she be able to live alone
again?’

‘She will if she has anything to do with it. She’s away at
one of those health spas this week. Lots of physiotherapy. And free time for
me.’

Rick hesitated. He really should ask the guy over for a
drink, but he wasn’t feeling sociable today. Mind you, having Owen there to
talk to might be a good distraction. All this pretending to Ella was another
item on his list of worst things.

‘Come and have a drink, meet my wife,’ he suggested. ‘You’re
very welcome to stay for a meal too, but I should warn you it’s spag bol from a
jar. My – daughter’s choice.’

It was the first time he’d called Soraya his daughter, and
the words stuck in his throat as thoughts of another child crashed into his
head, a child who wasn’t born yet but who was almost certainly his and whose
mother he had cold-bloodedly deserted. Was Amanda coping?

Owen’s face brightened. ‘I’d love to, if you’re sure your
wife won’t mind?’

‘Oh, Ella loves having people round. She’ll be interested to
hear about your mother, too.’

Ella
was
interested, and Rick left
her opening a bottle of Merlot and chatting to Owen in the kitchen. He ran
upstairs two at a time for his shower; oh how good the hot water felt, raining
on his shoulders and running down his back. He’d never been so tense. There was
no getting away from the fear and the guilt – he was constantly checking his
back to ensure that Amanda wasn’t creeping up on him, as she often did in his
dreams.

When he went downstairs Soraya was laying the table in the
kitchen and Owen was looking very much at home grating parmesan. Ella handed
him a glass of wine, and Rick forced a smile on his face. This was the woman he
loved; all he wanted in the world was to put the clock back four months and
just not go to the stupid event where he’d met Amanda.

But… Amanda was carrying his child.
His
child
. Another thought came and he jumped, sloshing wine on the kitchen
floor.

The baby might be a boy. Not an anonymous ‘baby’. A son.

The idea was earth-shattering. He’d always wanted a son, and
now… Jeez, what had he done? He’d been so busy worrying about Gareth and Ella
that he’d lost sight of what was important here. His baby.

‘Butterfingers,’ said Ella, handing him a wad of kitchen
paper to wipe up the wine. ‘Owen says he’s getting a ramp made up to his
mother’s front door in Penzance, and I was recommending those plasterers we had
when we did up the bathroom.’

‘Yes, they were excellent,’ said Rick, stammering as
something else struck him. His poor brain was having a workout this afternoon
and no mistake. But this was a good idea – he could lay a base of concrete
under the shed. That would stop any future smells, and more importantly it
would prevent the body being found easily. The earth might settle or shift, but
a layer of concrete would hold everything together. He felt his smile stretch
as he raised his glass to Ella and Owen.

‘To good neighbours!’

And to sorting his own mess out as soon as possible, he
added silently. He had to make a choice – Ella and Soraya – who wasn’t his
child – or Amanda and the baby who was his.

Owen and Ella were looking at him and he realised he was
frowning.

‘The wine’s okay, isn’t it?’ said Ella. ‘I’ll put the spag
on.’

She stepped over to the cooker, closely followed by Soraya,
and Rick turned to Owen, searching for something to say.

‘Great you were able to take time off work for the removal.
What do you do, anyway?’

The other man swirled the ruby liquid in his glass. ‘I’m a
police officer.’

Wednesday 11th – Friday 13th June

Amanda wandered round the second flat of the afternoon. As
soon as she’d seen the area she knew it wouldn’t be any good, but the letting
agent was already singing the flat’s praises. They still had another two to
view after this one and if neither of those suited her – well, she didn’t know
what she would do.

This coming Friday would mark four weeks since Gareth and
James had fought so disastrously. She’d been a widow for almost a month, but
only she – and James – knew this. As far as everyone else was concerned Gareth
was missing, presumed drowned. With the pullover considered likely to be his
and no positive sightings elsewhere, the police appeared to have given up the
idea that he’d run away voluntarily, but of course there was no proof that he
was dead, and without legal proof her life would be difficult for some time to
come. Four weeks ago she’d been a stupid bored housewife having an affair… and
if she’d known then what she knew now she’d have behaved very differently.
Amanda closed her eyes for a second and the usual thought tortured its way through
her head.
Your fault, all your fault
…

‘…and you don’t often see a place with this much cupboard
space, do you?’ The agent talked himself to a standstill and simpered
expectantly.

Amanda ran her hand over the gleaming kitchen units and
sighed. It was a lovely flat, and it was in her price range, but…

‘It’s great, but I need a place nearer public transport
links,’ she said.

The agent’s shoulders sagged. Obviously, she hadn’t been
supposed to notice the lack of bus stops in the vicinity.

‘Okay. But keep it in mind, huh? You have a car, don’t you?’

‘I’m planning to give it up. I’ll be working from home for
the foreseeable future, so I need a place within walking distance of a
supermarket and close to a bus stop.’ All of which she’d told him already.

The agent brightened. ‘Well, the next place ticks both those
boxes. Let’s go.’

Amanda followed him down to his car, listening as he began
yet another song of praise. They’d have to hurry if she was to pick Jaden up at
five. She’d left him with her friend Eva to give herself the luxury of an
afternoon’s flat-viewing without a rampaging toddler in tow.

A smaller place to live was the first part of her strategy.
The three-bed semi she and Gareth had been so pleased to find was much too big
for her and two little ones. They didn’t need a dining room, and the large
garden was an inconvenience now.

But in spite of the problems, things were improving; she was
taking control of her life. Thanks to benefits and her parents, her finances
were okay for the time being, but in a macabre way this only added to her
guilt. She and James and their behaviour had killed Gareth, and she would have
to live with that for the rest of her life. What would she tell Jaden when he
was old enough to ask?

The next flat was up the hill, in a block with five others,
with a lovely view over the ocean. Further up the road Amanda saw larger houses
with gardens, and there were two small supermarkets within walking distance
too. The location was ideal, and Amanda crossed her fingers as she followed the
agent inside.

The rooms were small, but large enough, and the kitchen was
separate, which she liked. The downside was she would need to carry everything
up and down two flights of stairs, but that would keep her fit without a gym
membership.

‘A serious contender,’ she told the agent, looking pointedly
at her watch. ‘Let’s have a quick look at the last one and unless it’s better,
I’ll take this one.’

He glanced at his own watch and hurried towards the stairs,
Amanda following on, grinning in spite of herself. Things went faster when you
were nearly at knocking-off time.

They were standing beside the car, the agent fumbling for
the key, when a little group of schoolchildren approached, accompanied by a
couple of mothers. Amanda watched idly as they passed. That could be her in a
few years. The tail end of the group went past and Amanda stared at a
dark-haired girl holding the hand of the tall blonde woman who was pulling her
along. All at once it was difficult to breathe.

This was the woman and child James had been with in the
swing park. The shock had imprinted their faces on Amanda’s memory. The pair
were walking towards the larger houses, the woman talking and laughing and the
little girl giggling up at her. James’ wife and daughter.

Amanda gripped her bag to stop her hands trembling, and made
an instant decision. ‘Wait – I’ll take this one.’

The agent didn’t need to be told twice. ‘Excellent choice.
Shall we go back in and I’ll run over the contract with you? As you saw it’s
available straightaway...’

That night Amanda bathed Jaden, letting him play for longer
than usual. The new flat was a real weight off her mind, for more reasons than
one.

‘We’re going to a lovely new place, sweetie,’ she told him.
‘Nice and near the beach. And near James too, I hope.’ She muttered the last
part, but Jaden heard.

‘Jay-jayjay.’ It was what he called himself too, and Amanda
kissed him. If only it was Da-dada she had found. Two tears dripped from her
chin into the bathwater.

She put Jaden into his pyjamas and took him downstairs to
play for a while before bedtime. He sat on her lap with one of those games
where you hit a button according to the animal on the screen; Jaden couldn’t do
it properly but he loved the rude noise it made when he hit a wrong combination
so it didn’t matter. Amanda cuddled him – poor baby, he wouldn’t remember this
house any more than he’d remember his daddy. She could only hope his two
remaining grandmothers and his grandad would stick around long enough to make
memories for him. Susie was due to visit this weekend, so she’d better have a
bit of a tidy. And maybe she’d have found James by that time.

Amanda sat planning, stroking her tummy where the bump would
be. What would she do, when she found him? Ask for money? That would be
undignified, and it wasn’t money she wanted as much as… help. A father for her
babies. It might be best to play the whole thing fairly quietly until she could
get a paternity test done. It would almost certainly be positive, and that
would be the time to push James, the man who’d been happy to lie in Gareth’s
bed and then disposed of his body. Heck. Did she really want a man like that in
her life? But what choice did she have? She had two children to support.

And the body, that was the important thing. She’d have no
peace of mind until she knew where Gareth was. She would make James tell her.

But first she had to find him.

At ten to four the following day Amanda was stationed outside
her flat-to-be, Jaden in his buggy, waiting for the schoolchildren on their
homeward journey. She felt alive as seldom before. The chances were excellent
that one day, if not today, she would see the same woman and little girl. And
then she’d have found James. How dare he dump her like that?

The children were just round the corner; she could hear
them. A chattering group passed by, older children who walked themselves home
from school. Amanda stared down the street. Another older group was approaching
but there were no younger ones in sight today. She waited another quarter of an
hour, then started the long walk home, disappointment making her more
determined. The younger ones must have finished school at a different time
today. Ah well, there was always tomorrow.

Friday was rainy and cool, and Amanda huddled under an
umbrella, thinking savagely that this time four weeks ago, she’d been stuffing
duvets into black bags in preparation for James taking Gareth away. And this
was Friday the thirteenth, an omen if ever there was one. She was so deep in
thought she didn’t notice the children until they were passing right by. Kids
of all sizes today… and a few mothers… and yes. Yes. They were here, James’
wife and daughter. Both were clutching umbrellas so Amanda had little more than
a glimpse of them, but it was enough. She waited till the group had passed then
followed on, pushing the buggy with a sleepy Jaden. Up the hill went the pair
she was following… round a corner… across the road… and through a garden gate.