No Child of Mine (36 page)

Leaving the lamb stew to go on sticking to the pot, she took herself into the sitting room. A repeat series of
Fantasy Homes by the Sea
was due to start at six. She hated to miss any of the property programmes.

A few minutes into the episode Ottilie came into the room, clutching her bear in one hand and a half-eaten biscuit in the other. There were crumbs on her cheek and a strap of her dungarees was tumbling off one shoulder.

Erica’s attention returned to the screen.

Sitting down on the floor, Ottilie took a while to remove her shoes. Then she climbed on to the sofa next to her mother, bringing the bear with her. Her legs were sticking out in front of her, not quite reaching the end of the seat. She sat very still as though she too was absorbed in the programme, then she shifted in closer to her mother so she was up against her all down one side.

Neither of them moved for several minutes, until Ottilie’s sleepy head drooped against Erica’s arm and Erica shot to her feet.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, her heart thudding an unnatural beat. ‘I’ve told you before ...’ She caught the words back, stuffed them deep down inside her, locked them away.

Ottilie buried her face in the seat of the sofa.

Realising she was crying, Erica walked out of the room and into the kitchen, almost colliding with Brian as he came in the back door.

‘What’s the matter?’ he demanded, as Erica switched on the radio.

Ignoring him, she went to start dishing up the stew.

Going into the sitting room and finding Ottilie sobbing on the sofa he scooped her up and held her in his arms. ‘It’s all right,’ he told her softly. ‘I’m sorry I shouted just now. Everything’s going to be all right.’

Her arms and legs hung limply against him as her head fell on to his shoulder.

‘That’s a good girl,’ he whispered gently. ‘Now you’re
going to come out to the studio with me and tell me all about your time at nursery today. Would you like that?’

Ottilie shook her head.

‘Yes you would,’ and setting her on the floor he took her by the hand.

‘No,’ Ottilie whimpered, trying to pull back.

‘Don’t be silly now,’ he said crossly.

Wrenching her hand free she ran to pick up Boots.

‘OK, you can bring him,’ her father sighed. ‘He’s very good at keeping secrets, and you know how important it is that you do too. If you don’t I’ll have to take him away and you wouldn’t want that, would you?’

Ottilie’s eyes filled with tears as she shook her head.

‘Of course you wouldn’t, which is why you’re going to keep our secret and never tell anyone about the games we play, aren’t you?’

She nodded.

‘Don’t cry now, Ottilie. I said
don’t cry
!’

Ottilie was trying hard to do as she was told, but the sobbing in her chest wouldn’t go away.

Getting down on his knees he gripped her shoulders in his hands. ‘Guess what I brought home today?’ he whispered, his face very close to hers. ‘Some film of the boys and girls who play in my schoolyard. Would you like to come and watch it with me?’

Though Ottilie looked frightened, she nodded her head again.

Sighing pleasurably, he said, ‘Oh, Ottilie, you’re such a good girl that I think you might deserve your very first ride on the tiger tonight.’

Her head was jerking as the sobs began choking her. ‘No,’ she begged in her feathery little voice.

‘Oh, now I know you don’t mean that, because you love the tiger really and he loves you very much indeed. So come on, let’s go and cheer him up, shall we, because he’s been a bit lonely today.’

As he took her hand and led her from the room her head was bowed and fat tears were soaking into the top of Boots’s head.

Erica didn’t look round as they passed her in the kitchen.
She was gazing out at the night as though her mind was floating far off into the darkness.

‘Isn’t it time you took your pills?’ he snapped.

‘I just have,’ she replied.

He smiled at Ottilie. ‘You see, Mummy’s a good girl too, sometimes.’

Reaching for the bowls of stew she’d served up, Erica tipped them back into the pot and replaced the lid.

‘When is Alex Lake coming again?’ he asked, seeing her shiver as he opened the back door and a cold wind blew in.

She looked down at Ottilie, but her eyes weren’t focused. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she replied, and turning away she went back to the sitting room.

Chapter Fifteen

ALEX WAS WORKING
from home today, making calls and writing up her notes from the day before. It was as she went back over the time she’d spent with Ottilie at the Pumpkin and afterwards that she realised how calming she’d found it, or distracting anyway. She’d been so wound up before going there, mainly thanks to the awful scene with the Leaches, but with everything else going on in her life too, that those few unscheduled hours were feeling a bit like an oasis now – or perhaps more like the eye of a storm.

There was no doubt it was all going to start whipping up again later when she went into the office, because on her way out last night she’d spotted a snippy little note from Wendy on the board for all to see, saying she’d like to see Alex Lake ‘as soon as Ms Lake can find the time’.

Though Wendy might be the least of her problems right now, she could still feel a band tightening around her head merely to think of her. So abruptly banishing her from her mind she clicked through to her inbox to check for any urgent emails. There turned out to be none from Jason, which hurt far more than she wanted to deal with, and none that couldn’t wait. However, before clicking off again she took a moment to read a message from a fellow social worker over at the South Kesterly hub. She was writing to let everyone know that one of their colleagues, Penny Gunter, had been signed off by the doctor for the next three months due to stress. Not at all surprised by this, since everyone knew how hard Penny had been struggling with the horrific injuries inflicted on one of her charges by his stepmother and grandfather, Alex
immediately set about sending Penny a message of moral support.

By the time she’d finished her head was spinning, and her stomach was rumbling so noisily that her hunger could no longer be ignored. However, she only had to look at food at the moment for her mouth to turn dry and her appetite to go running for cover. She wasn’t sleeping particularly well either; last night she’d been unable to get the awful bedsit she’d viewed out of her mind. She had no idea when it might last have been properly cleaned or decorated, and as for imagining herself living there ... With its one grimy window looking out on to the backs of other desolate houses, it had been so soulless and gloomy that she’d probably end up topping herself if she had to move in. It wasn’t that she minded downsizing, in many ways she’d be happy to, but please God not to somewhere like that.

And if the prospect of becoming homeless, or at best thoroughly depressed, hadn’t been enough to make sleep elusive, then worrying about Ottilie had been more than ready to step into the breach. Had those peculiar parents of hers bothered to ask how she’d got on at school? She couldn’t imagine her father wouldn’t. Surely, being who he was, it would be the first thing he’d ask when coming in the door.

Had Ottilie told them about Chloe and riding on the carousel? Had she spoken to them at all? Was she looking forward to going to the Pumpkin again tomorrow? She, Alex, would pick her up at eleven, as arranged, and she was even now trying to organise the day so she could spend some time with her after nursery before taking her home again. She probably could manage to squeeze in another ride on the carousel, or maybe a little jog along the beach on a donkey if the sorry-looking beasts were still there. Or maybe she could take her to Stanson’s, the kids’ emporium, and watch which toys she was drawn to. It might tell her something important about her.

Jumping as the phone rang she quickly snatched it up, hoping it might be Tommy – or Jason – but it turned out to be a wrong number, so she put the receiver down again
and tried not to feel oppressed by the silence closing in around her. The house seemed so empty, so forlorn even, or perhaps it was her mood making it seem that way.

Dropping her head in her hands, she waited a moment for the wave of longing to pass. She missed Jason so much, and fearing the loss of her home and Millie, not to mention her job, she kept finding her thoughts being pulled towards the family she’d been born into. She knew it was pointless trying to imagine how different her life might have been if she’d been able to stay with them, but sometimes it was hard to make herself stop.

Her mother and father might not have wanted her, but what about her grandparents, and her brother?

She’d had a brother.

A brother. How wonderful was that?

As she thought of the brother Ottilie had never known she tried warning herself that she was becoming far too involved with the child, but how could she possibly draw back? It was as though dear little Ottilie had curled up around her heart, like a kitten making itself perfectly at home.

Suddenly she was sobbing. She hated self-pity more than anything, but she was feeling so desolate and miserable today that thinking of Ottilie was breaking her apart inside. If Ottilie was as lonely and confused as she feared, then she, Alex, absolutely had to do something to help her. She was already trying, and she wasn’t going to give up until she was sure Ottilie was safe and receiving all the love she deserved. But what if that meant taking her away from her parents and putting her into care? Would she get that love from a foster family, or would she, God forbid, become another victim of the system that so often turned innocent young children into deeply troubled and even violent individuals?

Whenever she asked herself those questions, she couldn’t help wondering what her job was really about. It was the cruellest of all ironies that protecting children could sometimes mean putting them into another kind of danger altogether. If she were able she’d become a foster carer herself, she might even consider adopting, but without a supportive, and permanent partner she wouldn’t
even be considered, because she had to work in order to live. If only Jason had stayed ...

She really had to stop this. She needed to pull herself together now and forget all about how things might have been, or what she would do if only ... The property developer had apparently loved the house and was bringing his wife for a viewing the day after tomorrow. This didn’t mean she had to move out this week, or even next. These things often took months to go through, so there was plenty of time to find herself somewhere that didn’t feel as though it was going to crush her very soul every time she walked in the door.

Reaching for her mobile as it started to ring, she was so eager to speak to someone that she didn’t even bother to check who it was before clicking on.

‘Hi, is that Alex Lake?’ a voice rather like Tommy’s asked.

Realising who it must be, her heart gave a peculiar sort of lurch. ‘Scott?’ she said.

‘Yep, it’s me, your friendly PC from up north. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.’

‘No, not at all,’ she assured him. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Well, this could be more a case of what I’ve done for you. After we spoke the other day I decided to have a bit more of a dig around about this Jill McCarthy character, and I’ve come up with something that’s got me pretty baffled, I must admit.’

Curious to know more, Alex said, ‘Go on.’

‘Well, whether this is mere coincidence or not I can’t tell you, but it turns out that Erica Wade’s maiden name was McCarthy and her mother was called Jill.’

Startled, Alex said, ‘So are you saying Brian Wade’s mother-in-law was making the calls accusing him of killing his son?’

‘You might think so from that,’ he replied, ‘but Jill McCarthy – at least this Jill McCarthy – died over ten years ago, so she couldn’t have made the calls.’

Alex was trying to assimilate, but coming up as baffled as Scott Danes clearly was.

‘If it is a coincidence,’ he went on, ‘then I’ll be in goal for Man U next match, but how else to explain it ...’

‘Could you find anything to say Erica Wade’s mother was mentally disturbed?’

‘Not yet, but I can always go on looking. I just thought I should give you a heads up on what I’ve found so far.’

‘Thank you,’ Alex said, her mind already racing ahead. ‘I really appreciate this, and anything else you find, no matter what it is, please give me a call, any time day or night.’

Brian Wade’s tone was long-suffering, bordering on the irritable, as he said, ‘Well, of course it’s a coincidence, Ms Lake. What else could it be when my mother-in-law died even before my wife and I were married?’

Wishing she’d done this face to face so she could at least see his eyes as he lied, Alex said, ‘I’m interested to know why you never mentioned it when we first spoke about Jill McCarthy. Surely the fact that she has the same name as your wife’s mother must have struck you as, well, curious at the very least.’

‘Indeed it did when I first heard it, but please remember that it was almost three years ago that the wretched woman began making the calls, so any curiosity I might have had back then has long since faded.’

‘Did you report any of the calls to the police?’ She knew he hadn’t, or Scott Danes would have a record of it, so she was keen to hear his reply.

‘Not formally,’ he responded, ‘but I did mention it to an officer I knew at the time. He shared my opinion that unless the woman made any physical threats it was best to ignore her and hope she went away.’

‘Did you discuss any of it with your wife?’

‘As a matter of fact I didn’t. She was already suffering deeply enough over the loss of our son, so I certainly wasn’t going to make matters worse by telling her about a deranged woman’s telephone calls, especially when the woman was either using, or had, the same name as her mother.’

‘Using, as in she could have been someone who actually knew you?’

‘I don’t think there’s much doubt that she knew
something
about
me, but she’s certainly not someone I knew.’