The Lost Child (34 page)

Mary raised her eyebrows, ‘Can’t see many people wanting to pay for a room there, what with its history.’

Jack loved his wife, and even after all these years could be both charmed and irritated by her naiveté in equal measures. For Mary, everything was in comforting black or white and the only shades of grey she had ever considered were in that bloody awful book he had caught her reading. He would never have thought he could learn something new about her like that after forty years of marriage. Ah well, you had to live and learn he supposed. ‘You’d be surprised love. I expect it will be a roaring success, people paying to see the tunnel where it all happened and all.’

Mary shuddered, ‘Then people are ghouls. I would have thought they would have filled the damned thing in.’

‘Apparently it’s a structure of great historic importance.’ Jack said.

Mary was adamant, ‘I don’t care, they should have filled it in and cordoned off the site. What happened there doesn’t bear thinking about,’ she said righteously. ‘Anyway, changing the subject, are we still going to Weston this afternoon? If we are I’ll make up some sandwiches, we can have them on the prom. Saves spending a fortune in cafes. I can’t believe how much they want to charge for two bits of bread and a bit of limp ham, not to mention the coffee. Two pounds fifty a cup I ask you? I can buy a whole jar for that in Lidl…’

Jack smiled at her fondly. Black and white, that was Mary. He was quite partial to a nice doorstep sarnie and a frothy coffee, but he guessed he would have to let her have her way. Soggy sandwiches in tinfoil, and a flask of rancid tea it would be. ‘I’ll go and pull the car out of the garage ready,’ he said.

*

Jack unwrapped his sandwich and recoiled as the pungent aroma hit his nose. Why did she always have to make egg? The stench of sulphur could have knocked half the population out at twenty paces. Noticing that Mary had wandered off to look at postcards he surreptitiously resealed the foil and wandered towards a litter bin, feeling that not even the wheeling, swooping seagulls were deserving of so unappealing an offering. Though the greedy beggars would have had his hand off for it given half the chance.

He shoved his lunch into the bin and looked down onto the beach, his eyes drawn to a young girl who was tickling a baby that lay on a blanket. He could see the baby giggling and kicking its legs. The hearty chuckle of its laughter was caught up by the wind and delivered to his ears, forcing him to smile at the little scene. Something about the girl was familiar and it was a minute or two before he realised that he knew her. She looked different now, softer and more rounded. Her cheeks held a glow of health and her body was plumped out with what looked like contentment. She was wearing colour, no hint of black and she actually looked like a girl now, not some generic little scrote who was neither Arthur or Martha. Brodie had bloomed into a pretty, diverting young woman. Jack was pleased to see it, and even more pleased to respond to the familiar voice that came from behind him.

‘Hello Jack, long time no see. How are you?’ Dan said, his voice conveying genuine pleasure at this unexpected meeting.

Jack turned to look at Dan, his face cracking a real smile as he greeted the other man as if they were long lost friends, which in a way they were. ‘Bloody hell, fancy bumping in to you!’ Jack said, pumping Dan’s outstretched hand with real warmth. ‘I was only thinking about you this morning.’

‘Fancy a coffee? I just came up to get one for myself,’ Dan said, nodding towards a small kiosk advertising takeaways.

Jack scanned the promenade for Mary, she had disappeared into some shop or other, ‘Why not? It’d be good to catch up,’ he said.

Dan bought their drinks and they settled on a bench overlooking the beach. Jack pointed down to the sand. ‘I see Brodie’s still in tow,’ he said fondly.

Dan laughed, ‘Oh yes, couldn’t shake her off if I tried. She’s a good kid, all that business changed her a lot and she seems to have grown into herself now. She’s got a lot of guts that one. You know it was her as well as Derry who saved Elaine’s life that day? She stood up to Gardiner-Hallow good and proper.’

Jack nodded, ‘I heard. I always knew that mouth of hers would come in useful one day.’ They both laughed, but it had a hollow ring. Too much of Brodie had been lost.

‘She’s at college now. Wants to be a chef. I think that’s why I’m getting fat, I am the victim of her experiments.’ Dan patted his stomach, which was as flat as ever as far as Jack could see.

He smiled. It was good to know that the kid had found a meaningful future. ‘I’m pleased, she deserved a break. Do you ever hear from Tony or Fern?’

Dan shook his head, ‘Nah. Tony kept in touch for a while, I think he thought he had to, but it drifted. Brodie won’t have anything to do with Fern, and the last we heard she had buggered off to Spain with some bloke called Gary. I can’t believe she only did a year inside. It doesn’t seem fair somehow. No doubt she will turn up like a bad penny one day.’

Jack gazed down at the girl who sat on the blanket looking out to sea as the baby gurgled and kicked beside her. ‘Can’t help but think she’s better off without them,’ he said tentatively.

Dan gave him a slow nod of agreement. ‘Me too, though I don’t say too much. She’s still a bit sensitive where all that is concerned.’

‘Not surprising, it can’t be nice finding out you drew all the short straws in life,’ Jack mused. ‘What’s the baby called?’ He waved his paper cup towards the beach.

‘You mean the centre of the universe? He who must be obeyed, adored and worshipped? That’s Derry. Cute little bugger isn’t he?’ Dan said, his voice oozing affection.

Jack’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘She named him after…?’

‘Yeah, she did. He was the one who saved both of them.’

Jack nodded his understanding. He hadn’t gone to Derry Tyler’s funeral, but often felt he should have.

‘She sent me one of her pictures you know, afterwards. I’ve got it on my lounge wall,’ Jack said, remembering Elaine.

‘You want to hang on to it, they’re going up in value all the time. All that bollocks made her famous. Good job really, especially after Graham Ellis won his case. She was left with nothing after that.’

‘Yes, I expect it did,’ Jack was avoiding asking about Elaine, and hoping that Dan would furnish what he wanted to know. He knew that she hadn’t been charged for the assault on Ada Gardiner-Hallow. Plenty of witnesses swore that it was self-defence, though word on the inside was that it was revenge for everything that had been done to her. Jack wouldn’t have blamed her if it was and he was glad that she’d been allowed to get away with it. Justice wasn’t always best served by the process of law, sometimes it was a natural and instinctive thing. He’d been quite moved when Elaine’s parcel had arrived – it was one of her original illustrations, an old one, featuring the little girl who appeared most in her work. A cherubic little thing, in a pink cardigan. In his picture she was picking flowers in a beautiful garden while a little one eyed dog gambolled round her feet. Jack liked to think that Elaine had sent it because she knew he loved his garden, but of course she had never seen it. The truth was she’d sent it because it was a picture of Mandy, though Elaine hadn’t known that when she painted it. He loved the picture, and could spend hours looking at it, but sometimes wondered if it was a gift or an accusation. Until he worked it out he would keep hold of it.

‘So she copes all right does she?’ he said, pointing at Brodie.

Dan sighed beside him, ‘She has her dark days, but she manages. I was worried when Derry arrived, whether she would cope at all. Whether it would bring too much back for her. But I think he helps, and looking back it might have been a mercy really, she was so young.’

Jack thought he knew what Dan was trying to say, but he had a strange way of putting it. ‘Yes, it can’t be easy taking responsibility for a baby at that age,’ he said.

Dan laughed, ‘Yeah she loves him to bits but still turns her nose up when he needs changing. It’s a good job me and Mel aren’t so squeamish!’

Jack shared the laugh, but felt a little sad. Clearly it hadn’t worked out for Dan and Elaine. But whoever Mel was, she had to be a decent sort to take on Dan with Brodie in tow, and dealing with a teenage pregnancy couldn’t have been an easy task. He thought he might like to meet her. ‘Do you ever hear from Elaine then?’ Jack asked, sorry that he wouldn’t get to see her again.

‘Not really, she doesn’t make much of an appearance these days. After the incident she just sort of disappeared. I used to think it was a bad thing, but I’m not sure she could have coped with it all really. Things had to change with little Derry in the picture.’

A woman, who Jack had spied earlier, standing on the shoreline, was walking up the beach towards them. Even at this distance Jack could see that she was pregnant, the wind had pulled the fabric of her dress tight across her stomach revealing a burgeoning belly. As he looked, he saw her put a hand up and wave. He wondered if he was supposed to know who she was, then realised as Brodie returned the wave that it must be Mel, the new woman in Dan’s life. He felt sorry that Elaine hadn’t stuck around. She was the one who deserved the happy family.

‘She changed her name you know, afterwards. I don’t think she could stand to be either Elaine or Mandy, neither of them had brought her much luck.’ Dan said, getting to his feet. ‘After Brodie lost the baby everything had to change. She said that if she allowed us all to get stuck in the past then none of us would move on, so she reinvented herself. Anyway, come and say hello.’

Jack stood up to follow, feeling confused. The woman on the beach had reached the blanket where Brodie and the baby lay and she was standing looking at them both, with one hand on her swollen belly. Jack stared at her, realisation dawning. The woman had a scar, it ran from the side of her neck and down under the collar of her dress. For some reason it looked less angry now, less livid. Jack wondered if it was the effect of hormones, some pregnancy thing that had made it fade, but he preferred to think it might be the effect of redemption.

‘Just so I’m straight,’ he said, turning to Dan. ‘Mel. That’s a combination of Mandy and Elaine?’

Dan nodded, ‘Daft I know, but I think she wanted to keep the best of both of them but be someone different entirely. She did it by deed poll, which turned out to be a right pain, as she had to change it again when we got married.’

Jack’s mind was reeling. ‘So the baby isn’t Brodie’s?’

Dan looked at him, confused, ‘No, Derry’s ours, he was a bit of a surprise I admit, but then I suppose it only takes the once. Brodie lost hers the day it all happened, I thought you knew.’

Jack shook his head, he hadn’t known. All in all he hadn’t really known anything worth knowing.

‘When I think back to that day, which I try not to do very often to be honest, I thank God for letting them both live. But even God has a price I suppose, and the price that day was Brodie’s baby. When Ada fired the gun, the shot sprayed out. Most of it hit Derry and the ambulance door, but a few pellets went wider, and some hit Brodie. She already had a couple of broken ribs from where Gardiner-Hallow hit her with the axe handle, but the pellets penetrated her abdomen, the foetus didn’t stand a chance. If Ada had been closer, Derry probably wouldn’t have been able to save Elaine, but the penalty of her being further back meant the pellets sprayed and Brodie copped them.’ Dan spoke with a tinge of deep sorrow edging his words.

Jack shook his head in a slow, contemplative movement. ‘It’s always the innocents.’

The woman who was now Mel looked up, a smile of surprise and pleasure breaking like a new wave across her face as she recognised Jack.

He raised a hand and saluted her. To his amusement she grinned and took a bow before pointing to her tiny son and Brodie, who treated him to an impish grin. Then the girl poked her tongue out at him, showing that the Brodie of old was still alive and kicking.

Jack laughed, the sound of it rising from his belly and resonating in his chest until it erupted as a bay of pleasure. Some things never changed, and the knowledge of it pleased him greatly.

My thanks also go to Mike, Tom, Ellie and Naomi for keeping the faith and to Rooney, my constant companion and four-legged writing buddy. Without the five of you I might get a lot more books written! But with you, life is good.

Last but not least, Victoria Oundjian and the team at Carina UK for picking me out of the slush pile and helping to bring this book to life. Thank you.