No Child of Mine (21 page)

Though Alex sympathised, if it was true, it couldn’t be allowed to continue.

‘Meanwhile, we’re making sure she’s learning to read and write,’ Wade ran on in his best jolly voice, ‘and she’s showing early signs of being rather good at sums.’

Alex’s smile was faint. She really had to get over her dislike of this man, or it was going to colour her judgement before she had all the facts. On the other hand, there was a lot to be said for first impressions, so she wasn’t going to start trying to like him just yet. ‘Does she have any friends?’ she asked.

Wade’s jovial expression fell into hopeless collapse. ‘As I said, she’s very shy,’ he reiterated mournfully.

Alex waited for him to enlarge on that, but he simply bit into a scone and used his fingers to push the extra cream and jam into his mouth. ‘What about family?’ she ventured. ‘Does she have any cousins?’

Wade glanced at his wife. ‘I’m afraid we’re both only children, and all our parents have sadly passed on, so there’s only the three of us now.’

‘And you?’ Alex said, putting her cup and saucer down. ‘Have you made many friends since moving to Kesterly?’ She was looking pointedly at Erica Wade now, hoping to get some sort of answer out of her.

‘We have a few,’ Wade replied, ‘but we’re not big dinner-party or dining-out sort of people.’

‘Hobbies?’ Alex prompted.

‘Well, of course I’m involved in a number of after-school activities, and Erica is very fond of music.’

Alex waited for Erica Wade to enlarge on this, but she simply sat staring at her bony hands as they rotated the remote control she was still holding. ‘And what sort of places do you take Ottilie to when you go out?’ she enquired.

Wade’s eyebrows rose. ‘Oh let me see, we go down to the beach, of course, if the weather’s fine. She’s a little afraid of the donkeys, but I think she’s starting to get over it now. And we take her to the pier, or to the park. She’s not terribly keen on those outings though, not when there are so many other children around. What we really need to do, I keep saying, is to find someone of her own age, just one little girl or boy, that she can get to know gradually. I’m sure it would help her immensely.’

Though tempted to ask why they hadn’t already done this, she didn’t want to come across too aggressively on the first visit, so changing tack for the moment, she said, ‘Can you tell me why you haven’t registered Ottilie with the local health authority?’

He seemed amazed. ‘Oh, but we have,’ he protested. ‘We’re with Dr Aiden over on Abbottswood Way.’

‘Yes, but at her age she should still be receiving checks from a health visitor, and I haven’t been able to find any record of her having one.’

Wade’s cheeks glowed pink. ‘Oh my goodness, I’m embarrassed to say that I had totally forgotten about those checks. Of course, we must set them up immediately. I take full responsibility for the oversight, I should have registered her as soon as we moved here, but with the upheaval of it all, and trying to get settled ...’ He glanced anxiously at his wife. ‘It was a very difficult time for us,’ he said in a low voice. ‘In many ways it still is.’

Understanding that he was referring to the death of their son, and deciding that there was nothing to be gained from going into it now, Alex made a mental note to check with the doctor as to why
he
hadn’t organised the health visitor,
and said, ‘I’d really like to see Ottilie now. Could you go and get her, please?’

Wade looked at his wife. ‘Why don’t you go, dear, while I pour Ms Lake another cup of tea?’

Alex watched Erica Wade rise wordlessly from her chair, put the remote control back on the table and, without glancing at either Alex, or her husband, move like a shadow out of the room.

After closing the door behind her, Wade returned to his chair and said quietly, ‘There are a couple of things I should probably tell you about Ottilie before you meet her.’

Intrigued as to what they might be, Alex watched him clasp his hands together on his knees in a womanish sort of gesture. ‘Like any parents,’ he began earnestly, ‘we encourage her not to speak to strangers. I’m sure you’ll agree that this is very good advice, but I’m afraid in Ottilie’s case she has taken it very much to heart. So please don’t be surprised if you find her ... well, not as communicative as you’d like. She won’t be difficult, I can assure you of that, because it isn’t in her nature to be, but being as shy as she is means that it can take her some time to build up the confidence to speak.’ He paused. ‘Of course, she’s quite chatty with us,’ he gave a jolly little laugh, ‘you know what children are like, it’s often difficult to make them stop. It’s just with people she doesn’t know that she tends to clam up. I thought I should mention this so it doesn’t come as a surprise, or cause you any offence if she doesn’t answer your questions today. Would you care for some more tea?’

Alex put up a hand. ‘One’s plenty, thank you,’ she said. Then, ‘I couldn’t help noticing that your wife isn’t very communicative herself ...’

‘Which isn’t a good influence on Ottilie, I know. I admit, I worry about it a lot, but grief is a strange beast, isn’t it? There’s no knowing how it’s going to take a person, and poor Erica, she’s still suffering terribly over our tragic loss. She hardly leaves the house, and as for letting Ottilie out of her sight, she almost never does. She’s terrified, of course, of losing her too. Between us, I’m sure it’s why Ottilie can’t settle at nursery – in her own three-year-old way she’s
worried about her mother, and feels it’s her responsibility to take care of her.’

Which is a situation that absolutely can’t be allowed to continue
, Alex was thinking. ‘What about when it comes time for her to start school?’ she asked. ‘She’ll have to be parted from her mother then.’

‘Well, yes – and no. If it’s still an issue, and obviously I hope it isn’t, we’ll probably go in for home schooling.’

Which was their right, but almost certainly not in Ottilie’s best interests.

‘Have you tried to get some help for your wife?’ Alex asked bluntly.

‘Oh indeed I have, but as you’ll know very well, you can’t force someone into counselling. They have to want the help or there’s really no point, and I’m afraid my wife seems to feel that her grief is her final connection to Jonathan. If she lets that go, then there won’t be anything left of him at all.’

Alex knew mothers who’d taken many years to start functioning again after the death of a child. While entirely sympathetic, her main concern was always for the effect the withdrawal, or instability, might be having on any siblings. ‘What about Ottilie?’ she asked. ‘How well does your wife engage with her?’

Wade nodded, as though pondering the question. ‘I’d say reasonably well,’ he replied. ‘Of course, I don’t see them together when I’m at school, but there never appears to be any disharmony when I get home.’

As he picked up his tea and scone, apparently seeming to think he’d said enough for now, Alex made a quick assessment of what she’d learned so far. Mrs Wade was clearly not in a healthy state of mind, while Mr Wade, though insisting he was doing his best, wasn’t taking the steps he must know he needed to take.

She wanted to know why.

‘Oh, there is just one other minor thing,’ he added, ‘you’ll probably notice that Ottilie has a small bruise under one eye. I’m afraid she tripped and fell in the garden the other day, you know how children do? I only mention it so you won’t go getting the wrong idea.’

Alex nodded benignly, and reining in the wrong idea until she’d seen the bruise for herself, she turned at the sound of footsteps out in the hall. She was already bracing herself for an excuse as to why Ottilie couldn’t come down to see her, but her misgivings faded as the door opened and Erica Wade came in first, saying, ‘It’s all right, there’s nothing to be afraid of.’

Noting the lack of warmth in her tone, together with the fact that it was the first time she’d actually heard the woman speak, Alex rose to her feet – and as the dearest, sweetest little creature came in through the door she felt such a tender catch in her heart that she almost gasped a laugh.

And then it hit her. This was the little girl she’d seen in the park, the one she’d found alone on a swing, then watched walk away with her father. The one she’d worried about afterwards without quite knowing why.

Someone up there had brought them together again.

At first glance, Ottilie didn’t appear to resemble either of her parents: her eyes were large and anxious in her pixie face, and her cloud of fluffy dark hair looked as soft and mussed as a baby’s. She was wearing blue leggings, pink trainers and a white cardigan top that Alex couldn’t quite see, thanks to the large sheet of paper she had clutched to her chest.

‘Come along, there’s a good girl,’ Wade beckoned. ‘This is Ms Lake who I told you about.’

Ottilie came forward, her eyes going cautiously to Alex. Alex wondered if she recognised her, but if she did she gave no sign of it.

Stooping to the child’s height, she smiled a welcome. ‘Hello,’ she said softly. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you. You can call me Alex if you like.’

Ottilie was still a few feet away and seemed afraid to come any further.

‘Show Ms Lake – Alex – what you have for her,’ Wade encouraged.

Ottilie glanced at the mother, but Erica Wade was behind Alex now, so Alex couldn’t see how the woman responded. However, after a further quick look at her father, Ottilie held out her sheet of paper.

‘It’s for you,’ Wade told Alex.

‘For me?’ Alex cried, feigning surprise and delight, and taking it she turned it around to get a better look. ‘Is this your house?’ she asked admiringly, though there wasn’t much telling what it might be.

Ottilie didn’t answer.

‘Or is it a palace for a beautiful princess?’

Whatever it was, Ottilie’s gaze was fixed on Alex as though she simply couldn’t tear it away. The bruise, Alex noted, wasn’t especially big and could easily have been acquired in a fall, but just as easily not.

‘Can I take the picture home with me?’ she asked.

At that, Ottilie turned to her father.

‘Say yes,’ he told her.

She looked at Alex again and nodded.

‘That’s lovely,’ Alex murmured, wishing she could touch the little girl’s cheek or smooth her hair, even sweep her up into her arms, she was so adorable. But she didn’t want to frighten her, or startle the parents, so she simply admired the picture again, and placed it on top of her bag so as not to forget it.

As she settled more comfortably on her knees, she was surprised, and touched, when Ottilie did the same. ‘You’re a very pretty little girl,’ she whispered with a smile.

Ottilie only blinked.

‘Can you tell me how old you are?’

Ottilie’s eyes went down and Alex recalled noticing the lavish curl of lashes before. Then she realised that Ottilie had three fingers splayed on her knee.

‘You’re three!’ Alex exclaimed, sounding impressed.

Ottilie’s eyes came up again.

‘And what sort of things do you like to do?’

Ottilie only bit her lips.

‘You’re very good at drawing, so I expect you like that, don’t you?’

Ottilie’s eyes darted to the picture and back again.

‘What about stories? Do you have any favourites?’

‘Oh, she’s very fond of Peppa Pig, aren’t you?’ Wade chipped in. ‘And she likes the
Little Penguin Puppet Book
, and
The Hairy Fairy
.’

‘
The Hairy Fairy
,’ Alex cried with a laugh. ‘I think I’d like that story too.’

Ottilie was watching her closely, seeming unsure what to make of her, though apparently not ready to run and hide yet.

‘I bet you’ve got a lovely bedroom,’ Alex said. ‘Will you show it to me?’

Ottilie’s mouth started to tremble as she looked anxiously at her father.

‘Oh, I think we can do that, can’t we?’ Wade declared, getting to his feet.

‘I hope it’s tidy, Ottilie. You did tidy it, the way you were told to, didn’t you?’

Ottilie nodded.

Alex turned to find out what Mrs Wade thought of the idea, but apparently Mrs Wade had nothing to say. However, she was watching Ottilie, and Alex could see that Ottilie was aware of it in the way she glanced back at her mother as Wade took her hand and started to walk her towards the door.

Getting to her feet, Alex said, ‘Actually, this could be a good opportunity for me to have a little chat with Ottilie on her own.’

Wade stopped and turned around. He appeared both surprised and worried. ‘Why would you want to do that?’ he enquired.

‘It’s normal procedure,’ she assured him with a smile, ‘but you ...’

‘I’ve already explained that Ottilie isn’t comfortable with strangers.’

‘And I was about to say that you can be nearby, and anyway, I think Ottilie will be fine with me, won’t you, Ottilie?’

Ottilie looked at her mother again, then up at her father.

Not having quite worked out what was going on, Alex dropped back down to Ottilie’s height. ‘It’s OK,’ she told her gently. ‘I just want to have a look at your toys and books and see where you sleep. If you don’t want to speak to me you don’t have to, but it would be very nice if you did.’

For such a shy child, Alex was thinking, she didn’t seem to have any trouble holding a gaze; however, this was the second or third time she’d noticed Ottilie pulling her lips between her teeth.

‘Tell you what, why don’t we all go upstairs?’ Wade suggested. ‘Then if Ottilie’s feeling big and brave perhaps it’ll be all right for her to be with Ms Lake – Alex – on her own.’

Not missing Ottilie’s confusion, Alex followed father and child out into the hall, taking note of her surroundings again. The place appeared perfectly clean, and there was a gate at the top of the stairs obviously installed for Ottilie’s safety.

‘Does she sleepwalk?’ she asked, watching Ottilie’s tiny legs taking the stairs one at a time, while noting no sign of a nappy or a dummy.

‘No, never,’ Wade replied, glancing back over his shoulder.

‘But you still need the gate?’

With an amused groan, he said, ‘I’m afraid it’s one of those things I keep meaning to get round to, you know how it is. It’s never closed these days though, because you can manage the stairs very well on your own, can’t you, Ottilie?’