No Child of Mine (62 page)

‘Not that I’m aware of,’ she replied, ‘but I’ve been advised not to read the papers or follow the news. I guess Heather wouldn’t have been very happy about it.’

‘I guess not,’ he responded wryly, ‘but petty grudges have always annoyed me, especially when they’re used to hurt someone who’s already down.’

Alex swallowed dryly. She hated being the victim, but understood that he was just being kind. ‘Thanks for fighting my corner,’ she said with a note of humour.

‘My pleasure,’ he told her, holding out a hand to shake. ‘I’m not sure we’ll meet again if you’re off to New Zealand. If we don’t, I wish you good luck with everything.’

Feeling an absurd and wretched sense of loss stealing over her, she said, ‘Thank you,’ and before she could become emotional in front of him she let go of his hand and went to get into her car.

In a wine bar, close to the seafront in Kesterly, Heather Hancock’s fiery temper was flashing in her eyes as she said to Jason, ‘I’m sorry, but you’ve got to know more about Alex Lake’s past than you’re letting on.’

‘I don’t get what makes you so sure there is more to know,’ he countered.

Heather glanced at Gina, her best friend, Jason’s brassy blonde wife and mother of his three brattish kids. ‘He’s hiding something,’ she told her. ‘I can tell, can’t you?’

‘Like what?’ Jason cried, throwing out his hands.

‘That’s what I’m trying to find out,’ Heather retorted heatedly.

He sat back in his chair, defeated. ‘I don’t know why you’re asking me. I haven’t spoken to Alex in weeks ...’

‘Another drink, anyone?’ Gina cut in, waving out to a waiter. She really didn’t want this to continue, mainly because she knew it would end up in a place she didn’t want to be. God knew, she and Jason had had enough rows about Alex Lake since he’d decided to come back, and now with all this going on ... It was like there was no getting away from the bloody woman. And she knew very well that Jason had texted and emailed her since all this fuss had blown up, trying to get over there to see her to make sure she was all right. It was so typical of him, wanting to play the hero, he was like it with everyone, but in Alex Lake’s case he was taking it way too far. Or he would, given half a chance.

And as for Heather and that ridiculous bee she had in her bonnet about Alex Lake, which wasn’t to do with being publicly corrected in her reporting, or having her reviews put down by some fancy lawyer. Well, it was probably that too, but what had long bugged Heather Hancock about Alex Lake was the fact that when she, Gina, had broken up with Jason, Heather had fully expected him to go running to her. Instead, he’d met Alex
Lake – at a party Heather was also at, just to make matters worse – and before Heather the hotshot reporter had time to smooth on her lip gloss or flash her come-to-bed eyes, he’d disappeared off home with Alex, never to be seen again. At least, not at Heather’s apartment. She’d always had the hots for him, ever since she and Gina had first met him; Jason, though, didn’t feel the same about her. Just as well, or it wasn’t very likely she and Heather would still be friends.

After the waiter had taken their order, Heather said, ‘You know what I don’t get, Jason, is why you’re being so defensive about her. I mean, it’s not like you’re together any more, is it?’

Gina sliced her a look, knowing the jibe had been meant as much for her as for him.

‘Look, even if I did know something, and I really don’t,’ he lied, ‘there’s no way in the world I’d be telling you, when all you want is to do her down. Ease up on her, will you? She’s going through a rough enough time, what with the press constantly on her back and being suspended from her job. And I can tell you this much, she’ll be worried sick over what’s happened to that little girl.’

‘Who might now be safely in care if she’d done her job properly,’ Heather snapped. ‘I’m telling you this, if that child turns up dead somewhere, which is looking increasingly likely, then as far as I’m concerned Alex Lake will be as much to blame as whoever did it.’

Gina’s eyebrows rose. ‘Well, I suppose we should at least be thankful you’re not planning to accuse her of having done it herself,’ she commented drily.

Though Heather looked as though she might have liked to, all she said was, ‘I’m just telling you, there’s more to Alex Lake than meets the eye.’

‘And wouldn’t you just love that to be true,’ Gina smirked. ‘Now, can we please change the subject, because frankly, I’ve got better things to talk about.’

Heather eyed her nastily, but knowing she’d start coming across as obsessive or paranoid if she didn’t let the subject drop she allowed Gina to start waffling on about the kids, the way she always did. Sometimes Heather wondered
why they’d bothered staying friends when they had so little in common these days. She guessed it was habit – they’d known each other so long. Anyway, whatever it was, if Gina Carmichael was dumb enough to think she was rid of Alex Lake, then as far as Heather was concerned, she was even dumber than she looked.

Chapter Twenty-Six

‘NANNA’S COME UP
with a new game for us to play,’ Alex was saying to Ottilie, as she undressed her ready for her bath. Ottilie always called her mother Nanna now, and they’d found themselves slipping into it too. ‘We’re going to choose new names. Won’t that be fun? Nanna will keep hers, but you and me, we can have any names we like.’

Ottilie was looking faintly puzzled, and tired after missing her afternoon nap.

‘So what name would you like?’ Anna asked, coming into the bedroom with a pile of Ottilie’s freshly ironed clothes.

Ottilie looked around, and spotting her bear on the bed she cried, ‘Boots.’

Alex and Anna laughed. ‘But that’s his name,’ Alex pointed out. ‘You have to have one of your own. So think of your favourite name in the whole wide world.’

Ottilie frowned with concentration as she raised her arms for Alex to slip off her vest.

‘Shall I tell you what I’ve chosen?’ Alex said.

‘You’re Lex.’

‘Yes, but now I’ve decided to be Charlotte. Do you like that?’

Ottilie immediately nodded. ‘Char-
lotte
,’ she repeated, with a little jump.

Smiling, Alex asked, ‘So who are you going to be?’

Ottilie’s frown returned, then suddenly her eyes brightened. ‘Chloe!’ she exclaimed, jumping again and doing a little twist.

Alex and Anna exchanged glances. ‘That’s a very good
choice,’ Anna told her. ‘So shall we call you Chloe from now on?’

Ottilie nodded, up and down, up and down. ‘I’m Chloe. And you’re Charlotte and you’re Nanna.’

‘Well done,’ Alex praised, scooping her up.

‘Or you can call Alex Mummy, if you like,’ Anna told her.

Alex’s insides tightened as Ottilie shouted, ‘Mmmmummy!’ and threw her arms round Alex’s neck.

In many ways it was hard to believe that over a month had swept by since the night she’d brought Ottilie here, while in others it felt as though an eternity had passed. Each day had brought its own challenges, some greater than others, but somehow they’d overcome them and since the press focus had shifted to the other side of the country it had become much easier. The talk now was mainly of the Norwich-based member of Brian Wade’s paedophile ring, at whose house a six-year-old girl’s remains had been discovered. It had turned out to be one of five bodies buried in the same cellar, most of whom had been identified now, but not all, and similarities to the case of Fred and Rose West were coming up all the time.

It turned Alex cold to her core to think of Ottilie’s father being in touch with such a man, and made her thankful beyond words that the Sainsbury’s delivery driver hadn’t given up after her first couple of calls to social services, or God only knew what fate might have had in store for Ottilie. As if it hadn’t been bad enough already.

The general opinion these days seemed to be that Ottilie too had perished, and because she didn’t have parents to keep her in the spotlight, or a media campaign driving the search, she rarely got more than a brief mention now. When she did, it was clear people were sorry, or mostly angry that the system had failed yet another little girl, but then they shrugged helplessly and moved on with their lives. What else could they do, apart from call for Brian Wade to be charged with her murder, which the police were apparently considering. Quite what Alex would do if he ever was charged she had no idea, but she wasn’t going
to torment herself with it. She’d just have to face it when it happened, if it ever did.

For now, they were taking each day as it came, always careful and anxious, but relieved to have the full run of the house again, and the garden if the weather was good enough. Because they weren’t overlooked up here on the hill, it was easy to pop Ottilie into the car to take her for day trips to Exmoor, or Saunton Sands, or parks where Alex was unlikely to run into anyone she knew.

It was amazing, really, how little attention people paid them. Of course it would have been different if the photographs the police had issued of Ottilie had been clearer, but even so, Alex always put a hat on her when they went out, just in case. She knew Ottilie didn’t like them much, but being as eager to please as she was, she never complained. Sometimes Alex wished she would, if only to show that her fear of doing wrong and being punished in the horrific way her father had inflicted was starting to diminish. What a horrible, lonely, brutal life she’d had up to now. It was really no wonder that she never asked for her parents; in fact it was as though she’d blocked them from her mind completely.

Erica’s cremation, three weeks ago, had turned out to be a far sadder occasion than Alex had prepared for, mainly because there had only been her and a handful of detectives to mourn her passing. Whether Brian Wade had asked to attend she had no idea, though given that he’d now confessed to the killing she guessed it was unlikely. Privately she wondered if the confession had been to avoid a trial when the press and public would go for him all over again, but since she’d never know, or care, she didn’t give it much of her time. What occupied her more was dealing with the damage he had caused to Ottilie’s tender young psyche. Though, on the face of it, she seemed to be coping well, her confidence was still very fragile and she’d lately started creeping on to Alex’s mattress at night, curling up with Boots as close to Alex as she could get without actually touching her. As soon as she realised she was there, Alex would pull her in close and rub her back until she drifted off to sleep again.

Now the day had come for them to start packing for their departure. Gabby was about to exchange on the house, and because there was no way Alex, her mother and Ottilie could move into the flat in Kesterly, Anna had cancelled the lease and had, just today, booked their flights to New Zealand. Merely to think of it made Alex feel sick with nerves. Yet what else could they do? This had long been the plan, that as soon as the internal inquiry had finished with Alex, and the police had no more need of her either, she would go to New Zealand for a holiday, which in reality was to be the start of a new life for her and Ottilie.

It was crazy, impossible, they’d never get away with it and what would happen then?

‘If we don’t go, we will be found out,’ Anna had told her firmly. ‘This way at least we stand a chance of being together, as a family, the way we should be.’

‘But she isn’t ours.’

Anna’s eyebrows arched. ‘Really? Have you seen the way she looks at you, copies you, adores you? She depends on you, Alex, now more than ever, and who in the world can make her happier than you?’

‘Someone will ...’

‘Like who? You’ve said yourself that you can’t bear the idea of her going into care, being passed from pillar to post, never knowing where she belongs, possibly ending up being abused by other children, or out on the streets taking drugs and selling herself. That’s the kind of life you could be condemning her to if you give her up now, and think of where it’ll leave you if you do go to the police and hand her over.’ She was shaking her head vehemently. ‘I can’t let you do it. I know you’ve made a terrible mistake, that you never intended it to turn out this way, but if you go to prison what good is that going to do Ottilie, or you, or anyone? OK, justice might have been served, but what’s the point of justice if all it does is break a little girl’s heart? And she is innocent in all this, Alex. Even if you don’t consider yourself to be, you can never say that she isn’t, and I know that the very last thing you’d ever want is to make her suffer.’

Of course it was the last thing Alex wanted, her whole
purpose in life was to make sure that children didn’t suffer, but to be doing it this way ... ‘What about Bob?’ she’d protested. ‘I can’t believe he’s really going to support this. I mean, if we take her there it won’t only be me who’ll be in trouble then, it’ll be you and him.’

‘We’ll have to cross that bridge when –
if
– we come to it. For now, what’s important, and makes me believe that it’s all meant to be, is the fact that no one there apart from Bob of course realises that you are the social worker involved in this case. Of course they’ll have heard about it, but it won’t have been anywhere near as big a news story there, and I never told them it was the reason I was coming back here so soon. They think it was simply to go on getting to know you. I didn’t want them to know the truth, because I didn’t want you to be carrying that stigma around with you when you finally came to meet them. And they all think of you as Charlotte; I’m not even sure how many of them know, or will even remember your other name. And if that isn’t enough for you, then surely Ottilie calling me Nanna of her own volition has got to be another sign that it’s meant to be. And the fact that the police haven’t begun to suspect you, another sign. Then ask yourself why did Fate bring you together in the park that day? And bring me here to find you at such a crucial time? It’s all falling into place, Alex – someone up there is on our side, I swear it, and all we have to do is go with it.’

Though it made a certain kind of sense, and it was everything Alex wanted to hear, she still wasn’t able to make herself believe it could be that easy. ‘But how do we explain Ottilie when we get there?’ she’d asked. ‘Isn’t everyone going to find it odd that you’ve never mentioned having a granddaughter before?’