Lullaby (18 page)

I was so hot by now that my hair was damp and my chest was tight. I’d forgotten my inhaler again and I couldn’t face the walk back in the rising heat, so I slumped on the little plastic seat in the bus-shelter and waited for a bus to take me home. Near me a group of foreign students chattered excitedly, drinking lemonade from green and shiny cans and jostling each other dangerously next to the busy road. On the group’s
periphery a dark young woman wearing a headscarf and an awful lot of layers for this temperature was hovering, a small baby in her arms. She held it rather gingerly, I thought, my stomach swooping the way it did every time I saw a tiny child who might, just might, be mine. I craned for a look—it was a girl with a big birthmark on her face, gold studs in her shell-like ears. Then a red car pulled up just past the bus-stop, music thumping from the open windows, and the woman raised an uncertain hand at the driver. He jumped out, swaggered to the pavement, wearing some kind of uniform. I realised with a jolt that it was Gorek. Of course, it was Maxine’s school that I was outside. I leant back into the bus-shelter. I didn’t want him to know I was there.

Some of the group greeted him half-heartedly; they seemed polite rather than affectionate, I noticed. But he ignored them anyway; headed straight to the woman, taking the baby from her with absolute authority, tickling her so she began to giggle in that bubbling infectious way only babies can. He held the baby up high above his head then and the mother began to panic, stretching her arms out for her daughter, saying something to Gorek I didn’t understand, her mouth turned down, all grim. For a moment he held the child up higher still, out of the woman’s reach, taunting her deliberately. I stood—then sat again, sat on my hands instead. I resisted the temptation to intervene.

Eventually Gorek passed the baby back, pinching her cheeks hard as he did so—too hard, so the baby’s lip began to curl and tremble. Gorek was gabbling fast in
his own tongue, just like last night, the woman nodding in reluctant agreement as he got out his wallet and handed her a wad of notes, pinching
her
cheek this time, so hard his fingerprints remained behind. And just as Gorek ran down the stairs into the school beneath the library, my bus finally pulled up.

All the way home I felt uneasy. Was the baby Gorek’s? Did Maxine know about that woman? But when I got back to my house, Deb was there and my mother was on the phone and it pushed all thoughts of Gorek from my mind.

My mum wasn’t coming. She’d finally found the bottle to tell me; she definitely wasn’t coming. I couldn’t say I was surprised, but I was shocked at how sad I felt. She suddenly sounded old on the phone, and I was trying to comfort her, though deep inside I was shouting
How could you let me down right now?

‘Jessie, you understand, don’t you, love?’ she implored, and I sniffed and raised my chin like I had when I was ten, and replied, of course I did. Her heart was bad again, she told me, the doctor said she really shouldn’t fly. I swallowed the temptation to say that we all knew there was little wrong with her silly heart apart from all her nerves, but it was obvious that would be the end of her today, so I pushed it down and tried to smile instead.

‘Perhaps, when the baby’s back,’ she said, and there was a little tremor in her voice, ‘perhaps you’ll bring him out to see us?’

‘Of course I will, Mum.’ This was how it always was.
Why should it be different now? Poor fragile Mum, sunk under the weight of my feckless father, destroyed by the very love of her life. Held together by her children, who couldn’t bear to let the whole thing dissipate, trying for some semblance of normal family life. My baby was missing, presumed kidnapped, and my mother was planning holidays with him in the sun.

There was a pause. I could feel her working up to something. There was a jangle in the background, and I saw her gold-looped arm as she raised her gin and tonic to her mouth, drinking to find the courage.

‘Robbie rang,’ she said. A pause, and then a gush she just couldn’t hold back. ‘My little boy. Thank God, I said to George. Just when you least expect it. All this time, and then—well, I thought he was really…really gone this time.’ Perhaps she finally sensed the insensitivity of this sentence because she stopped for a moment; then spoke again very fast.

‘I think he needs some money, Jess. I don’t want to ask you to sort it out, especially now you’re looking for the baby—’ she said it like I’d put him down and absent-mindedly forgotten where ‘—but Robbie says he hasn’t got a bank account right now. I think—I imagine cos he’s been abroad, would you think?’ She sipped again, then rattled on. ‘Georgie said we can lend him some. I must say, I was so relieved when he agreed.’

Lend! To Robbie? My patience was wearing thin. I thought of him on that estate in Elephant the other day, his dignity all gone.

‘Give
him some, Mum, you mean,’ I said, with a small sigh.

‘What?’

‘Give him money. Not lend. You know perfectly well you’ll never get it back.’

‘Oh, Jessica. Don’t be like that. He’s—he’s your little brother.’

‘Yes, Mum, and I’d do anything for him, you know that. I’m only stating fact. It’s just, Mum, I’ve been wondering—’ I stopped.

‘What, love?’

‘Well, don’t you think it’s a bit odd—that he’s just turned up like this? Out of the blue? Just when everything’s so terrible?’ I had voiced the thing that had been niggling me all this time. The thing I didn’t want to say to Leigh, because I knew she’d already jumped to worse conclusions than I ever could.

‘He said he saw you on the telly, Jessie love. He said you looked so sad he had to come. You know how soft he is deep down.’

I almost fell for it; I really wanted to. But still I struggled with the jealousy of years gone by. However much I loved Robbie, it was hard to accept my mum loved him more than anything. Much more than me.

‘Well, I’ve been sad for years that he just disappeared, and he never came back then. We’ve all been sad, haven’t we, Mum?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘I have been very sad. But’, she brightened, ‘he’s back now, come to help you find the little baby.’

‘Is that what he told you?’ There was a long pause. ‘Mum?’

‘Something like that, yes.’

‘Mum, what’s he said? Has he said anything else about Louis?’

I waited as she lit a cigarette. I thought she’d given up.

‘Mum!’

‘What?’

I heard the clink of ice down the receiver, then a sip. A very long sip.

‘You’re not being straight with me, Mum, I know you’re not. You need to tell me what Robbie said. You can’t always cover up for him.’

‘Don’t be silly. Of course I wouldn’t. All your brother told me is that he wants to get Louis back.’

‘But why is he so desperate to? He’s never even seen the baby.’

‘How can you ask that, Jessica? Louis is his blood too.’ Sometimes I thought my mum was stuck in Sixties’ gangster London; that she thought life was like the Krays’ had been. ‘He loves that baby like you do. Blood’s thicker than water, you know.’

I resisted the urge to scream very loudly; was about to tell her about her son’s fall from grace, but she rambled on regardless. ‘And actually,’ I steeled myself for some great imparting of wisdom, ‘actually, I want to send Robbie some money straight away, you know, tide him over while he gets a job. While he helps you.’

I raised my eyes to heaven.

‘Mum, you didn’t even tell me you knew Robbie was okay.’

‘When?’

‘He said he spoke to you last year sometime. He knew that I got married.’

‘Did he? I don’t remember.’ She was lying, and we both knew it. ‘Anyway, look, you talk to Georgie. You can sort out the money thing together.’ As usual she abdicated all responsibility.

‘Mum—’

‘And try not to worry too much, lovey. I’m sure everything will be just fine. Hang on in there, okay?’ I could practically hear the relief wash through her voice as she handed the phone over. For some reason, she wasn’t going to admit she’d talked to Robbie last year.

‘Jessica!’ George’s jolly tones crackled down the line. I loved George. He was like the big silly bear from that kids’ programme
Rainbow;
just what my poor damaged mother needed after the disaster that was my dad. And George took care of her, which meant finally Leigh and I didn’t have to worry so much any more. But still, he wasn’t my dad.

When I got off the phone, Deb was waiting to take me to the police station. She looked very hassled and hot, and I wanted to ask her where she’d been this morning, but I got the feeling this wasn’t the time. Every day until Louis was found I would have to do the police press conference; Silver said they were imperative in order to stay in the public’s consciousness. Today he met me before I went up on that stage, to discuss the woman at the Tate. I hadn’t seen Silver since our drink, and I felt suddenly quite shy. He was rather abrupt, the police artist in tow.

‘Why didn’t you remember before, Jessica?’

‘It didn’t seem important.’

‘I keep telling you, everything’s important.’

‘I just forgot.’ I stared down at my feet, a slow flush creeping across my face, feeling like I was in the headmaster’s office. He looked quizzically at me.

‘What do you mean, you forgot?’

‘I didn’t really think much of it at the time. I mean, she gave me the creeps, this woman, but she was quite, you know, normal. Well, I thought she was.’ The internet reports from last night began to clatter around my head. ‘Normal’ women so unhappy they did something mad.

‘Go on.’ He was trying to keep the impatience from his tone. ‘Define “the creeps”, can you?’

‘She was just a bit sort of—full-on. Like she kept going on about how bonny Louis was.’

‘Well, he is,’ said Silver.

‘Yeah, but I thought—she looked kind of familiar, but then she said she didn’t know me. And she just got a bit—close, that was all. You know, like when people invade your space.’

‘Familiar?’ he prompted.

‘Well yeah, but I never worked out why. I don’t think I did know her. She just had one of those faces.’

‘Could you describe her again?’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Good,’ Silver said. ‘You go with Mitchell here and do just that then. Better to be safe than sorry, I think. Shame you didn’t remember before, kiddo.’

I was shocked at how upset I was at his reprimand. He strolled off before I could mention Gorek and I decided that in the circumstances it could wait. I shook
off the peculiar feeling that I’d begun to crave Silver’s approval now, and followed the artist into another room. I’d brought Maxine’s magazine to show him; he promptly made some bad joke about supermodels not needing to nick babies when they could afford to buy them, and Deb coughed loudly and pulled a face at him.

He shut up and drew quite fast, tapping his pencil ferociously against the table when I found it difficult to describe her exact features. I kept getting muddled with flipping Heidi-in-the-magazine, and the final image didn’t really convince me. Still, it was a start. Then Deb took me into the conference room, where I joined Silver on the platform. There certainly wasn’t going to be any hand-holding today. He sat beside me, absolutely cool and calm, as I faced the usual barrage of flashes and questions destined to make my head ache. Then a rather spotty youth stood up.

‘Chris Thomas, S.E. News Agency. Glad to hear your husband’s on the mend. I just wondered, are the police considering the possibility of child-traffickers? I’ve been covering a story about a Moldovan gang who’ve been known to operate in this area. There are various rumours about snatching kids to sell to wealthy childless couples—’

My top lip lifted up and back, like an animal about to snarl for its life, but before I could speak, Silver interrupted him, smoothly glossing over Spotty’s words.

‘It’s something we’re definitely looking into. But we’re following a few other leads right now. The feeling is it’s likely to be rather more domestic than your scenario. Any more questions?’

But I was shaken to the core. Baby traffickers? They’d never crossed my befuddled mind. Silver began to give a description of the woman spotted down in Sussex, asking for more eyewitnesses to come forward. He asked people to be especially vigilant; to report anyone with babies in any sort of suspicious circumstance. Then he called the conference to an end.

‘Same time, same place tomorrow, guys—unless there’s any change in news. Thank you.’

Then he said he’d drive me home; Deb would meet us there. I was haunted by images of swarthy-skinned, pirate-type men with gold teeth and heavy accents snatching Louis from his pushchair and running to the ports with him, wads of money jammed in stone-washed denim pockets.

‘Do you think there could be any truth in what he said?’ I asked nervously as Silver pulled off. I puffed rather desperately on my inhaler. Dark clouds sagged with unspent rain, the air still thick and soupy. God, I wished this weather would break; there was nothing left to breathe.

Uncomfortably, Silver looked less certain than he had in the conference room.

‘We’ve certainly been aware of these gangs that he mentioned—but the scenario doesn’t really fit in your case. Why would they target you in the Tate? They work much closer to home generally. And there’s usually some connection with the family first.’

A horrible thought had been speeding through my brain since Spotty had stood and spoken.

‘Maxine’s new boyfriend. He was alone in my house
last night, using my phone to call abroad.’ Silver’s head snapped round. ‘He said Maxine let him use her key but she’s been away so I couldn’t ask her. I didn’t like it anyway. It was kind of creepy.’

‘Why didn’t you tell anyone?’

‘I was going to mention it to Deb, but she was late this morning.’

‘It’s not really fair to blame Deb, Jessica.’

‘I’m not.’ I was feeling increasingly flustered. ‘I didn’t mean that. It’s just—this morning I saw the same bloke with a baby. I thought—I thought it might be his daughter, but I’m not sure. And he had a strange flag flying from his car that I didn’t recognise the other day. He could possibly be Moldovan, I suppose. I don’t know anything about the place,’ I said in a very small voice. I looked hard at the oily shimmer that rose from the road.