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Authors: Rachel Abbott

Stranger Child (40 page)

BOOK: Stranger Child
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This had seemed like an easy job. All she’d had to do was refuse to speak to anybody, tell nobody anything, then find the right time to walk out of the house with the baby, phone Rory, and then go back to the house and watch her father suffer for a few hours until the job was done, then leave again.

She’d known David and Emma would be mad at her and thought they might slap her around a bit when she told them that Ollie was gone – just to make her talk. But she was
used to that. What she hadn’t expected was to feel the way she did when she had seen how much Emma loved Ollie. For a while she had even thought that maybe, just maybe, she could have some of that for herself.

She
hated
David, of course, but Emma had been kind to her. And what had she done in return? She’d stolen her baby. That’s what.

Natasha let out a wail of grief that had been building in her for days, which faded unheard into the night.

And now she had done something else that they would hate her for. She might have left all the nice clothes that Emma had bought for her, but there was one thing she had needed, that she’d had to take.

Money.

She didn’t need much because she could nick stuff to eat. But she might need a bit of cash, and she was a rubbish pickpocket. She had tried when she was little, but the bloke had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and shaken her, so she’d stuck to nicking things from shops. The trouble was, Emma had taken her purse with her, and David’s wallet was in his jacket pocket – with him in the kitchen.

It had left her with only one option – one that she had hated to take. She pushed the thought of what she had done to the back of her mind. They hated her anyway, so it wouldn’t make any difference.

The place she was heading to was full of kids like her – kids that nobody wanted, or who had been forced to escape from something even more dreadful than living rough. She was heading for the tunnels that ran under Manchester, a huge network of spaces built over a century ago. She thought she might be safe there, but she was going to have to walk for miles, all at night along the back roads and alleyways. Natasha didn’t even know where she was, but she had seen some signs when they were out shopping, so had an idea that Stockport was the closest big town. If she could find her way there, she could probably get somebody to help her for a few days until she made it to Manchester.

Her mind kept going over things. Had she made the right choice? Should she have stayed?

The thing was, if she was still there – living with her dad and Emma – she didn’t think Finn and his boss would let Ollie go until they got her back. David and Emma would have had to make a choice. Her, or Ollie. And there was no contest, was there? Better to leave
now than to listen to their excuses as they told her she wasn’t wanted. But if she’d gone – disappeared for good – Finn had no reason to keep Ollie.

Maybe she should have stayed, though – stayed so that Emma had some bargaining power – stayed and sacrificed herself so Emma could get Ollie back. She kicked a clod of wet earth in front of her. She couldn’t even do that right.

She scrubbed at her tears with the heel of her hand and lifted her face to the rain, her body shuddering with the force of her unhappiness and the sense of loss.

*

Becky Robinson was keeping out of the Joseph’s kitchen. It was crawling with crime scene technicians, and there was nothing to see – except blood, of course. Emma was at the hospital with Ollie, where he was being checked over, and the news was good. There didn’t seem to be any lasting effects from any grains of the sleeping tablet that he might have swallowed.

Becky didn’t know if Emma had been to see her husband or not. She wouldn’t really blame her if she hadn’t, having learned what David did all those years ago. Everything that had happened since, to Natasha, to Caroline, and now to Ollie and Emma was a direct result of his actions six years ago.

Jumbo and his team had finished in all the rooms except the kitchen, so Becky was free to look around the house. She went into Natasha’s bedroom. The bed was made, and the room was tidy – the kind of tidiness that you don’t normally associate with thirteen-year-old girls – at least, not if they’re anything like Becky had been.

She opened the drawers. Inside were good clothes – perfect for a girl like Natasha – all folded neatly as if somebody really cared about them. She thought back to what Natasha had been wearing when she had first met her. She remembered the red jumper with the loose thread and searched the room. It wasn’t there.

Where are you, Tasha?

She wasn’t at Rory Slater’s house. It was empty. All the children had been taken into care and both Slaters were locked up.

The team had searched the house and found nothing. Nothing, that is, other than a terrible chamber below the cellar. Little more than a hole in the ground with bare earth for the walls. Cold and damp, it reeked of fear.

Becky shuddered and made her way into Ollie’s bedroom. She could see evidence that the fingerprint team had been in here, but they hadn’t moved a thing, and her eye was drawn towards a toy, sitting in the middle of the rug. She bent down to pick it up, but it wasn’t a toy, it was a ladybird moneybox. She shook it, but there was no sound. It was empty.

As she went to put it on the chest of drawers, she noticed a tiny slip of paper, sticking out of the slot. Becky carefully drew it out. Unfolding it, she moved to the light to read it.

‘Oh God,’ she muttered, tears flooding her eyes. She knew she was going to have to call Tom, but for a moment she had to pause. She didn’t think she could say the words out loud.

To Ollie Joseph

IOU £7.36

Signed: Natasha (your sister)

Sorry x

69

Day Six

It was midday before Tom was able to get home. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he had last slept, or eaten anything other than the odd chocolate bar or packet of crisps.

Mel had tried to stick to her story that there had been nobody else in her home, but Tom couldn’t go along with that. Jack hadn’t been involved directly in Guy’s death, but there was no point in lying. Paul Green knew who Jack was, and although he had committed no offence – merely acting as an informant and never actually buying the stolen gold – his past crimes were bound to come out. The fact that he had helped the Titan team to catch Guy would go in his favour, and Tom had a feeling that Jack would have happily come back to face the music. But it wasn’t the police Jack was hiding from.

Mel’s words, just before she was driven away, came back to him.

‘Jack loves you, Tom. He always called you White Hat – said you had more honour in your little finger than he had in his whole body. Everything he did six years ago he did for the people he loved, and now that Guy’s dead the only people who know Jack’s alive are a few policemen, you, me and Emma. That’s the way it has to stay. Whatever Finn has in store for me, even from his prison cell, it would be ten times worse for Jack – and possibly anybody close to him. He has to stay dead.’

Tom hadn’t been able to find any words. His throat had closed completely, and it hadn’t been the time to lose control.

He pushed open his front door, for once, the pleasure of his home eluding him. He knew he should make something to eat and then go straight to bed, but he couldn’t. He was restless, and more than anything he wished Leo was here. She must have wondered what
was going on, but although it felt like weeks to him since he had seen her, to Leo there would just have been a couple of days’ silence.

He walked into the kitchen and switched on the kettle.

While it was boiling, he plugged his laptop in to charge and turned back to the worktop.

There was a ping. He stood, motionless, his back to the computer. Only one person he knew could do that. He held his breath, not knowing what he was waiting for, then slowly turned round.

In the middle of his screen was a folder – the title was ‘White Hat.’

Tom pulled up a chair, sat down and clicked. The folder contained a single file.

Sorry to have left so abruptly. I’m sure I don’t need to explain.

I’ve let you down – I know that. I let Emma down too, and now she has to deal not only with what I was, but what David is too.

I loved her. Still do.

Don’t ever change, Tom. You’re the hero of the family. I’ll be watching you from afar, but you won’t know I’m there.

The money I left you was all earned legally – so don’t panic. I know you will use it wisely. I hadn’t wanted you to discover the SD card though. I tried to get it back, but I couldn’t find it. Sorry about the mess, little brother – but I had to make it look real. Your cottage in Cheshire is wonderful by the way – especially the kitchen.

My ill-gotten gains will now be distributed appropriately – you don’t need to know the details.

Forget you saw me. My death was my choice.

Black Hat

Tom read the note and reread it until his eyes were blurred, whether with tears or fatigue it was difficult to say. He knew as soon as he touched the keyboard the note would disappear from the screen and from his computer, just as he knew Jack would never contact him again this way. It was his last link to his brother – perhaps the last ever – and he couldn’t let it go.

Did he really have to remain dead? Was there no other choice?

He had found and lost his brother today, and his emotions were too tangled to unravel.

Finally, he sat back, lifted his finger and pressed the space bar. The image disappeared, as he had known it would. He stared at the blank screen for a few moments, then pushed himself up from the chair and moved back to the worktop to reboil the kettle. As he poured the hot water into a mug, he glanced across to the phone. The message light was flashing. He should ring Leo, let her know what was going on, he thought, as he pressed the replay button. He needed her now more than ever. She was the only person who could bring him the comfort and love that he suddenly craved.

As if answering his thoughts, it was Leo’s voice that he heard on the answerphone.

‘Tom, it’s Leo.’ That almost made him smile – as if he wouldn’t recognise her voice. ‘I’m ringing to say that I’m going away for a few days. You’re obviously very busy, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to have some time to myself. I’ll ring you when I’m back.’

Tom leaned against the wall and gazed at the ceiling. Leo’s instinct to withdraw was nothing new to him, but for the first time in months he had to ask himself what he was doing with somebody who couldn’t promise to be there for him when he needed her support.

He remembered the passion, the fun, but most of all the unmistakeable love within Emma and Jack’s relationship, before his brother had been forced to end it. Even today he had seen it flash into Emma’s eyes when she thought Jack had been shot – after everything she had been through.

Had he ever had that with any woman?

Right now, he wanted somebody to hold him tight to ease the pain of his loss. But that wasn’t going to happen.

70

One month later

Looking out of the kitchen window, Emma noticed all the new growth on the plants and trees. So much had been happening that she had failed to realise that spring was now well and truly with them. It was a bright, clear day outside, but she found herself wishing that the sky was dark, and that she would see a pair of eyes reflected in the window from a young girl standing behind her. Each time she turned round, she expected to see a child with straggly blonde hair wearing an oversized duffle coat. She would have welcomed her with open arms.

She should really sell this house and move; she knew that. But she was staying for Natasha. It was the only place that the girl knew, and to leave here would give her stepdaughter nowhere to return to, if ever she wanted to. She couldn’t bear the thought of Natasha’s life ending the way her friend Izzy’s had. Tom had confirmed that the girl found in the woods was Izzy. It seemed fairly certain that she had tried to kill herself with a massive dose of ketamine, stolen from Julie’s house. Apparently the girls regularly used ketamine to anaesthetise themselves a little before the men arrived. Even though Julie’s had been shut down, other places would no doubt open to fill the gap in the market, and the thought of Natasha ending up there sickened Emma to her stomach.

In the first few days after Ollie’s safe return Emma’s emotions had swung between irrepressible joy that her baby was safe and concern – for Tasha and for David. She sat by her husband’s hospital bed for three days, holding his hand, thinking of the happy times they had spent together over the last few years, wondering what the future would bring for them both. But he never spoke to her again. His injuries were too severe, and he died at the end of the third day. She hoped he had known that Ollie was safe; she had whispered it over
and over in his ear, praying that David could hear her. She had lied about Tasha too, telling him that she was well and at home.

Emma was a realist, though, and she knew that – had David lived – she would never have spent another night in his bed. The fact that he had even contemplated putting his wife and daughter through a few hours of terrifying hell to get himself out of a hole kept hitting her, like a punch to the head. She would never have felt safe with him and would never have allowed Ollie to be left in his care. She was sorry he was dead, but her life with him had been over the minute she learned what he had done.

Emma was finding it really difficult to let Ollie out of her sight. She sat with him while he slept and had to stop herself from moving his cot into her bedroom. Just because fear ran through her each time she heard footsteps on the gravel path, she didn’t have to make her little boy feel like that.

Tom had been a source of strength, although she knew he was struggling with the knowledge that Jack was alive and out there somewhere. Just as she was.

‘I feel I should pack in my job and go and find him, Em,’ he’d said one day, sitting at her dining table. ‘But it’s not what he wants – I know that.’

BOOK: Stranger Child
3.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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