Keeping Sam (8 page)

Was it possible that she had seen her attacker? If so, why didn’t she remember who it was? If she could recall a face, or any detail whatsoever, it would help the police to identify who had done this, and if they could find that person they might be able to recover the rest of her things. More importantly, if the police could arrest her attacker, Kate might be able to prove that the cannabis hidden in her flat was not hers at all, but had been put there by someone else. But why? To make her look bad? But who would want to do that? Perhaps they’d been disturbed and had hidden the drugs with the intention of coming back later. But disturbed by who? Not by Kate – the police report had been clear that Kate had been at the kitchen table when the attacker struck. If only she could remember what had happened ...

If only the nightmares weren’t so terrifying that she woke up the very minute she began to turn around.

Chapter 10

In the taxi on the way home, Marie asked Kate why she didn’t get in touch with Sam’s father now that she was out of hospital and fighting to get custody of her own son again.

‘It’s not exactly custody,’ Kate explained. Although it might as well be, she thought, for all the rights she seemed to have.

‘Look,’ Marie said, straightening up the myriad shopping bags that fell over again every time the taxi rounded a corner, ‘I realise you can’t just waltz in there and drag him out of your parents’ house. I know you have to tread softly, for his sake. But surely if his dad were here too, they wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. They couldn’t argue that you couldn’t cope, or whatever it is they’re saying, if there were two of you looking out for little Sam.’

Kate sighed. ‘Marie, you don’t know the half of it. Things would be ten times worse for me and Sam if Evan were here, believe me. He’s bad news. No, really,’ she added, seeing Marie’s sceptical expression. ‘He is. You wouldn’t want him living in your house, put it that way.’

‘He’d be quite welcome if you vouched for him,’ Marie insisted.

‘Well, that won’t happen,’ Kate said, shivering involuntarily. ‘Look, I was young when I met him. Young and stupid. He swept me off my feet –’

‘So he’s a bit of a charmer, is he?’

‘Yes, but not in a good way.’ She could see that Marie didn’t get it. ‘Okay, listen to this. Evan had a friend, a guy called Jake. They decided to set up a business together – Evan was always off on some harebrained scheme or other, I don’t think he ever had a real, honest job in his life. So, Jake puts up the money and Evan takes off abroad to buy a load of stock. He’d sourced a place in Estonia, he said, that produced computer parts dirt cheap. Meanwhile, Jake was down at the local ProntoPrint getting sorted with business cards and flyers, and he found a unit on an industrial estate where they could store their stock. They’d even taken on an apprentice from the technical college, all totally above board.’ Kate looked out of the taxi window at the sweeping coastline and allowed her mind to slip backwards. She’d been so hopeful that time, convinced that Evan would come good.

She should have known better.

‘So,’ Marie prompted. ‘What happened?’

‘You think you know where this is going,’ Kate continued with a sigh. ‘Someone like Evan, you think he’d just disappear with the money, go on a bender, gamble the lot, something like that.’

‘He didn’t?’

Kate shook her head. ‘Sadly not. What he did was much worse. The electronics were a cover for another deal that Evan was working on. He used them to get “merchandise” into the country – you can imagine what kind of merchandise. Worse still, he used Jake’s name to do the deal, used his passport to travel under, left a trail a mile wide for the authorities. He screwed the Estonian dealers out of their cut, then hot-footed it back to England with the money and the shipment. By the time the police got involved, Evan was nowhere to be found.’

‘Oh, dear.’

‘Jake, however, was here large as life, with a storage unit full of dodgy electronics absolutely reeking of traces of Class A drugs.’

‘Kate! How on earth did you get mixed up with a character like that?’

‘I told you,’ Kate said glumly. ‘I was young and impressionable. When I met him I had no idea what he was capable of. And he did have a good side. He was fun, he could be caring – like really, really attentive. And he was very sexy. When Evan looked at you the world seemed to stop turning. It was kind of –’

‘Irresistible,’ Marie finished. ‘Yes, I know. Big Tony is just the same.’

‘Hardly.’ Kate laughed. ‘Believe me, in the lovable rogue stakes, your Tony wins hands down. There’s not much to love about Evan.’

Marie fell quiet by her side, and Kate sank into her thoughts again. It was true that he had been irresistible. And very, very charming. And Kate had been so deeply in love that nothing Evan did affected her for the longest time. Until she finally grew up.

‘What did you do, Kate, before you had Sam?’ Marie had her purchases gathered up around her legs again; they weren’t far from the promenade.

‘I worked in a bar for a while. Did some cleaning. Just anything, really. I’ve never been afraid of hard work,’ she added, wondering why Marie thought it necessary to ask. Probably worried about the rent. ‘Listen,’ Kate said earnestly, ‘I’m serious about this alteration service, about standing on my own two feet. And if it doesn’t work out I’ll get a job. I’ll do anything, work around Sam as soon as he starts nursery. I know the benefits cover my rent for now, but I’m not a freeloader. I never have been.’

Marie shook her head, but before she could speak the taxi lurched to a halt and all the shopping bags tipped over. Kate dived forward to help repack them, glad to be out of her landlady’s inquisitive gaze. The truth – that she was qualified for nothing and fit for even less – smarted a lot more back here in Corrin Cove than it ever had in the streets of Manchester.

***

By Wednesday Kate was so desperate to see Sam it was like a physical ache. The morning brought a heavy fog that hung over a flat grey sea, tightening Kate’s chest when she went out for her walk. All the way along the promenade her stomach rolled and churned. She had a bad feeling, but couldn’t pinpoint why. Things were progressing okay; in fact, the process of getting Sam back had moved up a notch. Elizabeth had phoned that very morning to confirm that the application to discharge the guardianship order had been lodged with the court.

‘Are you certain there is no chance of doing this amicably?’ Elizabeth had asked again. ‘The court prefers a mediated solution in these cases.’

Mediate it then, Kate had wanted to say. She knew it wasn’t Elizabeth’s fault, but why was everyone talking to her as though she could do anything about it? Hadn’t she tried to talk to her mother, to find some common ground?

‘If by amicable you mean that I simply agree to give up my son and visit him a couple of times a week then no, I don’t think that’s very likely,’ she said instead. She heard Elizabeth’s weary sigh. ‘Look,’ Kate continued, flicking her hair back over her shoulders and setting her jaw determinedly, ‘I’m happy for them to see Sam as often as they like when he comes home to live with me. They’ve done a great job, and it’s not as though I’m ungrateful. I’m not saying they’re monsters,’ she added. ‘It’s them who have a problem with me, not the other way around.’

Kate shifted the phone to her other ear, wondering whether she was being entirely honest with Elizabeth. The knot in her stomach hadn’t eased after seeing her father on Monday; if anything it had only grown larger. Could he really have changed? And if so, what did that mean for her and Sam?

‘Well, that’s all good,’ Elizabeth said, winding up the call. ‘It will look good to the court that you are being reasonable, that you’re the more moderate party. Take care now. Enjoy your freedom – you’ll have Sam back very soon, I’m sure.’

Those words had been like a balm for her soul. Kate had drunk them in, then replayed them over and over. When Marie came out, magically appearing as soon as the call was over, Kate had shared them, spoken the words out loud, and together they had started to make plans for Sam’s room, deciding what colour it should be painted, what kind of furniture he’d need.

‘I have a cot in the attic!’ Marie exclaimed. ‘I’ll get Patrick to fetch it down as soon as he gets in from work.’

For once, Kate hadn’t argued.

Her mother was courteous but cold when Kate arrived at the house.

‘Sam is in his bedroom,’ Barbara said. ‘You shouldn’t have any trouble finding it. It’s your old room.’

Upstairs, Kate paused in the doorway, overwhelmed all over again at the sight of her son, at the solid reality of him. She approached him and lowered herself onto the carpet by his side. As usual, he accepted her presence with no surprise, merely passing her a slightly sticky green crayon before continuing to scratch out his own piece of art.

As they played, Kate relaxed and began to enjoy herself. He was a clever child, and clearly sociable, unlike she had been at his age. Chatting easily, Sam pointed out his favourite toys and told her how he was going to be a builder when he grew up. Kate felt herself brimming over with liquid love, like someone had opened her up and poured it in and didn’t know when to stop.

He called her father Pops and her mother Nana, much to Kate’s surprise – she had expected them to be more formal, more old-fashioned. ‘So,’ she said, reaching across the tiles to pick up a toy rabbit with chewed-looking ears, ‘do Pops or Nana ever shout at you?’

The boy looked unsure and Kate corrected herself hurriedly. ‘I mean, do they tell you off sometimes?’ She smiled warmly to put him at ease, holding the rabbit out for him to take.

‘Only when Sam bad,’ he said quietly, taking the toy from her and cuddling it briefly to his face.

‘I bet you’re not bad very often though, are you?’

‘No.’ His voice was smaller and more timid than before, and Kate hoped with all her heart that she hadn’t upset him with her questions. But then he looked up at her, eyes bright again. ‘Shout at each other,’ he announced triumphantly. ‘Very lots.’

‘Do they?’ Kate turned her face away, her heart pounding. That was how it had always started. A row, raised voices, thunder rumbling below the stairs. She had learned to stay in her room, in this room, and be as quiet as a mouse. She was always terrified she might get in the way of one of her father’s rages …

Kate instinctively reached out for Sam, embracing him awkwardly. He allowed her a few seconds then squirmed away, returning to his crayons.

Perhaps the phone call with Elizabeth had unsettled her more than she’d realised. She had said her parents weren’t monsters, but for a long time wasn’t that exactly what she had thought about them? Kate could see no outward signs that her son was unhappy, but no one had ever noticed any signs in her as a child either. She knew only too well how easy it was to become accustomed to anger and volatility. More than anything, she didn’t want this for Sam.

‘Don’t worry, little man,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll have you out of here in no time.’

Settling back against the foot of the cane sofa, Kate reflected on how easy and comfortable it felt to be here with her son. Did he feel the same? she wondered. What did he think of her visiting like this?

‘Sam,’ she said, interrupting his flow of constant chatter.

‘Henry at play group call me Sam,’ he told her. ‘Nana call me Samuel.’

‘Well, your name is Sam.’

‘How you know?’

‘Because I’m your mummy,’ she said firmly. ‘Do you remember I told you that last week? Do you understand what that means?’

‘Henry has a mummy.’ Sam thrust his fist into his mouth, his eyes wide and surprised.

‘And so do you, sweetheart. You can call me mummy if you like.’

‘Nana say you call Kate.’

I bet that’s not all she’s called me, Kate thought glumly. Although by the looks of it, not in front of Sam, which was something to be grateful for.

‘Sam, there’s something else you need to know. Soon you’re going to be coming home with –’

‘Kate!’ Barbara’s voice from the doorway made both of them jump. They turned around, looking up with identical shocked expressions.

Then Sam smiled easily and said, ‘Hi, Nana,’ while Kate tried to calm her breathing.

‘Time to get washed and ready for tea,’ Barbara said to Sam, who jumped up eagerly, scattering his crayons all over the floor. He poked his head around his grandmother’s legs to look back at Kate.

‘She staying for tea?’ he asked, pointing. Kate felt such a surge of love for him. Her son. Her own, sweet little boy.

Before she could answer that she would love to have tea with him, her mother butted in. ‘No, she isn’t. Now, go on, off you go.’

‘By-eee,’ he sang as he disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. Kate and her mother regarded each other warily. Feeling at a distinct disadvantage sitting on the floor, Kate dropped eye contact and pulled herself upright. She grabbed her new cane and leaned on it.

Kate’s father appeared behind Barbara, his dark eyes tired but warm. Barbara spoke to him without taking her gaze off Kate.

‘She has been asking the boy all sorts of inappropriate questions. And she was about to tell him that she is taking him home with her. I warned you this would happen. Now we’ll have to deal with the fall out.’

‘What fall out?’ Kate enquired mildly, knowing her blasé tone would only infuriate her mother more.

David looked at the side of his wife’s head, then back at Kate. ‘What’s this?’

‘Were you listening behind the door the whole time?’ Kate said.

‘Just as well I was.’ Barbara confronted her husband. ‘Well, I hope you’re happy now. You said to just leave them alone together, to let them get on with it, and now look what’s happened.’

‘What kind of inappropriate questions?’ he asked, still looking at Kate.

‘About whether we argue. About whether we shout at Samuel.’ Barbara’s face was as tight as a vice. Kate wondered if her mother still suffered from the headaches that had been almost constant when she was a child. She decided that if she did, she probably deserved them.

She waited for her father’s expression to change from one of confusion to one of anger. She remembered watching him like this as a child, marking his moods the way you’d notice changes in the weather. A storm coming. The gathering clouds. Kate glanced behind her parents, worried that Sam would come back in.