by Nina Manning
I raced out of the house with baby Daniel in my arms. He would have to take the milk cold, I didn’t have time to heat it now. He was crying hysterically and the sound was driving me to distraction. I started the engine. The baby seat was already fitted in the back seat and so I clipped him in as I had watched on internet several times and with the shudder of the car engine his crying subsided.
I turned back to look at the house I grew up in, it held all the memories I had tried so hard to forget and then rebuild new again with Ben and me.
I picked up the can of petrol and poured it on the floor of the hallway. One last image of Ben flitted though my mind as I thought of the many years we managed to have together. I allowed a brief smile to etch its way across my lips, then the image of his face melted away as I struck the match.
Daisy
I opened my eyes. My head was throbbing so hard I thought there was something about to burst out of it. I touched the side of my head and felt the damp through my hair, I brought my hand to my face and looked at the bright red blood on my fingertips.
‘Oh god.’
‘It’s okay.’ Ben’s voice reached me, I turned. He was still lying on the floor.
‘You’re still here… we’re still here?’ I looked around the filthy cellar, it was all beginning to feel incredibly surreal. Surely I’d wake up in a moment and be somewhere safe with my Ben and the baby. ‘I… I was standing in front of her?’ I went to try and stand and realised I couldn’t, my leg wouldn’t work. I slowly dragged my way back towards Ben.
Ben held out a chewing gum grey towel frayed at the edges. I picked it up and pushed it hard against my head.
‘Why didn’t I try? I should have tried harder. This is hopeless, we’ll never get out, we’re trapped.’ The hysteria in my voice was rising.
I looked at Ben and thought about his time down here, how he must have suffered.
I tried to stand again, but I couldn’t, my whole body now in agony from head to toe. My trousers were soaked in blood around the crotch.
‘The baby, that was him?’
‘Yes’ I sobbed. ‘I need him, Ben, I can’t let him go, not again.’
I dragged my useless body towards the bottom of the steps – each movement sent pain searing through my body.
‘Annie, come back, wait! I just need to talk to you. Can I just give him a kiss? Let me just…’ I had lost all energy to call out and my words came out feeble and pitiable. I flopped down on the bottom step and lay my head on my arms. ‘What have I done?’ I breathed out the words into the crooks of my arms.
Pain was resonating through my abdomen. I crawled on all fours back to Ben. He had managed to pull himself fully upright and I could see how one of his legs had a thick circular bracket around it and a thick chain running from it which was attached to the radiator. The sight of him in that way, looking like an animal, made me feel sick.
‘Ben… what the… how did this happen?’
Ben lips were dry and cracked. His skin looked grey. His breathing was ragged. ‘That day Daisy… that day I spoke to you last… I went to the kitchen to talk to Mum, she tried to show me all this stuff about you… but I already knew about her. I had been tracking this story about a woman who had lost her son. I only had to look at the photos of him as a baby and a toddler, photos I had never seen from my own mother. I just always knew, Daisy. And then she told me, the other day, she told me the whole story. She stole me.’
Ben’s words made me realise the true horror of what was happening, and as the panic overtook me, I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. ‘We need to get out, Ben’ I began looking frantically around. ‘There must be a little window or hatch somewhere?’ I forced myself to focus and breathe.
‘I know this room.’ Ben coughed. ‘I used to play in it when I was a kid.’
My head fell into his lap. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought I knew, but I didn’t know.’
‘How could you know?’ he whispered.
‘I promise you. Everything will be okay, it will.’ I grabbed his hand and pressed it to my chest. It was easier to soothe someone else than feel my own fear.
Ben’s eyes were flickering. His breathing was uneven.
I let out a big breath and looked around the room again.
‘I’ll start hitting the hatch. It could take a while, but I’m sure I can break it open.’ I didn’t believe my own words, the reality was I wanted to lay with Ben and hold him, but I could see he was falling in and out of consciousness, his head dropped to one side.
‘We have to get out of here.’ I said taking another frantic look around the room.
I looked down at Ben, still slouched but not moving. His mouth remained fixed. He was dying. I had to do something.
I had managed to drag my way back to the top step, every movement sent splintering pain through my body, but finally I got there.
I touched my stomach, where my son had been just a few hours earlier and tears fell down my face. I leant on the top of the step with my head in my hands realising I was done for. I was ready to give up. But somewhere, still ignited, was the desire, the maternal instinct to get back to my son that Annie had stolen from me was there. I couldn’t give up until I drew my last breath. Then I smelt it, smoke. I turned around to see streams of white smoke seeping through the cracks in the door. Automatically I let out a cough and terror surged through me, along with images of Ben and I suffocating to death.
Then I heard them. Loud footsteps and voices far away but they could very well have been above me. Annie? She was back. She had changed her mind. Realised she couldn’t do it alone. Seen sense. I banged the door with my palm.
‘Help! Help! Annie, we’re down here. Open this door. Ben is sick, Annie. Really sick!’ I used so much force that I could feel my skin splitting. The smoked was billowing around my face now. I gave the door one last hit. ‘Open this fuckin’ door you sick, sick mother—’
I could see a sliver of light coming through the door as it was being lifted and opened. Then a bright light from a powerful torch was pointing right in my eyes. I shielded my face with my arm. As I did, more plumes of smoke caught in my throat and I started to cough. I peered out from behind my arm and I saw a mass of smoke and a figure in a mask illuminated by a bright light
I coughed again as the smoke entered my lungs. A large gloved hand reached towards me and as I reached out to grab it, everything went black.
The next twenty-four hours went by in a blur of paramedics, firemen, ambulances, doctors, police, questions, questions, questions. The last thing I saw before I was knocked out was a surgeon’s eyes, his mouth covered with a surgical mask. Something had gone wrong when I gave birth and pieces of the placenta were still inside me. Ben was whisked away somewhere else.
When I came round, Patrick was sat next to me.
‘Patrick.’ I held my hand out and Patrick took it in both of his.
Patrick looked down at his feet.
‘The op went well. They were able to stop the bleeding. You’ve broken a rib and your ankle. You’re in a bit of a mess, Daze. Ben is not so good, he’s going to need a bit more time, but he’ll get there. He will. I don’t know much else, but they are monitoring him. You’re both strong.’
‘My baby!’ Realisation then panic swelled from the pit of my stomach. I tried unsuccessfully to swing my legs out of the bed.
Patrick stood and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Hey, stop, you’re in no condition to go anywhere.’ He squeezed my shoulder. ‘I haven’t heard anything about the baby yet, I’m afraid Daisy.’
I leant my head back against the pillow. I felt the familiar feeling of tears soaking my cheeks as though they had never stopped. ‘How? How were you even here, Patrick?’
‘I had been trying to text you for days, Daisy; you kept ignoring me. I know you said you needed time, but that was ridiculous. I needed to see you. I missed you. I knew the baby was due. I drove to the house and when I arrived there were ambulances and fire engines, smoke was pou
ring from inside. Someone from the beach, a dog walker, alerted the emergency services when they saw smoke.’
Patrick’s voice turned hollow and my attention was now on the door of the hospital room. Everything felt as though it had slowed down, Patrick was still talking, but it was as though he was a record player playing at the wrong speed. I could see the doors had opened and two policemen had walked in. My eyes were locked on them, willing the scenario to change, I looked away. I could hear myself crying out.
I put my hands over my ears and started shaking my head. My legs felt like jelly and were shaking uncontrollably. ‘No!’ I shouted again. I wasn’t ready to hear it yet. It couldn’t happen again.
Patrick had his arm around me, attempting to console me in some way. ‘It’s okay, Daisy, look.’ He was gesturing to the doorway. I looked up at Patrick and then at the door. As I did both policemen stepped aside and a policewoman walked through the gap between them. In her arms, she was carrying a little blue bundle.
I held the baby tightly in my arms. I nuzzled my face into his little face. The nurse was at my side.
‘Let’s try and get him to have some milk. I’ve bet you’ve got plenty of it?’ She helped me lift up the nightgown. Patrick had headed off down the hall for some coffee. I looked at her and the nurse winked back down at me. ‘Come on, let’s try this. You can do it.’ Under my gown, my swelling breast fell out near to the baby’s lips. He turned automatically and began to root for the nipple. The nurse gently nudged my breast and held it in place until the baby was latched on. ‘There look at that. Pair of naturals.’ She smiled down at us.
I let out a small nervous laugh. ‘He’ll be wondering what’s been going on.’
‘Well, babies are more resilient than we give them credit for. They have short memories at this age,’ she said through a smile. ‘I reckon he’s forgiven you already.’ She smiled down at me. ‘Got a name for him yet?’
‘I thought… Jasper. Obviously I’ll have to discuss it with Ben.’ The name had been creeping in and out of my mind for weeks but with no one to discuss it with I kept pushing it to one side. No girls’ names had come to me. I had been struggling to imagine a life with a girl after Alice. I felt a small glint of hope as I spoke his name out loud, something I had never been able to do with my first child. I had yet to see Ben, but the idea that we were a family and that we were all here, safe and alive created a small spark of joy. I acknowledged it and held on to it.
‘Well, I think that’s a perfect name for him. Lucky little chap.’
The door opened and a young doctor in a smart sky-blue shirt walked in.
‘Mrs Cartwright. How are we doing?’ he said brightly.
‘These two are doing just great,’ the nurse said.
‘Good. I have news about your husband. Ben is now in what we can consider to be a stable condition. He is slightly delirious and he still needs a lot of rest. He’s extremely dehydrated with multiple fractures but I think, if you are feeling up to it, you can pop up and see him later.’
‘Yes, yes I want to,’ I said looking up at the nurse who nodded enthusiastically.
The doctor smiled. ‘Okay, well, I’ll let you finish off here and I’ll arrange for someone to take you down shortly.’ He smiled again and turned and walked back out of the door.
The nurse wheeled me down to the lift and took me up two flights to where Ben was. I stayed sat in the wheelchair, cradling Jasper, adamant I would never let him out of my sight. The pain from my broken bones had been numbed by morphine.
I was alarmed to see a policeman sat outside Ben’s room.
‘Why does he need the police here?’ I asked him.
‘It’s just precautionary,’ the young officer said.
‘Could she come here?’ I increased my grip on Jasper who was sleeping soundly.
‘She’s in police custody. We don’t know the facts yet. If there were more people involved,’ the policeman said, looking down at me.
‘No. No one else was involved. She did this all by herself,’ I scoffed.
‘Okay. Shall we go on in and see Ben now?’ the nurse said and the officer stood up opened the door for us.
Inside the room was dimly lit. Immediately I was taken back at the machine beeping, and the tube coming from his arm to a bag. My hand was in my mouth when the nurse patted my shoulder.
‘It looks worse than it is.’
‘I’m sure I don’t look much better myself,’ I said, touching the bandage on my head and knowing without needing to look that my face was swollen and probably covered in bruises and scratches.
‘Ben,’ I said as I was wheeled up close to the bed. Ben was raised up slightly. He opened his eyes and looked at me then he looked down at Jasper. He blinked a slow blink and smiled.
‘Say hello to your son,’ I whispered with tears spilling down my face
‘Hello, mate,’ he croaked.
‘I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be back shortly,’ the nurse said and walked out.
‘They got her Ben,’ I said when I could finally stop crying to speak. I could see how weak Ben was still, but his smiled remained static and his gaze was fixed on Jasper. ‘You’re going to be okay,’ I said and I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Ben linked his fingers through mine and I felt the urgency in his grip. The raw emotion and love I felt for him flooded my body and for a second I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. Ben had never left me. He was there all the time through everything.
Annie
The officer who had arrested me was removing items from my handbag and listing them out loud to a policewoman behind the desk who was inputting the data into a computer. I stared blankly ahead.
‘One mobile phone, black, Nokia. One blue and green patterned diary. One set of keys with round pink crystal frame around a mirror.’
I lifted my head and looked at the keys he was describing and I thought back to the day when I found them under the bed in Ben’s room. I had meant to throw them away, it was careless of me. A schoolboy error. Now here they were, retrieved from the inside pocket of my handbag.
I had sat in the car for long enough and watched two carefree women cackling and heading out to enjoy themselves. I was drawn to the flat that night where I knew my son lived but I had never been invited.
I watched a pair of red heels disappear around the corner and then I walked up the hill and let myself in to the flat. It was a cold night and I had on my thick coat with the big buttons. I entered the hallway pausing to take in all the paraphernalia, stacks of paperbacks, photos in mismatched frames littering the wall, shoes left where they were thrown off and then found my way into the kitchen. The side was a mess with empty take out cartons. I saw a scrawled note above the cooker and I leant against the hob to read it. I didn’t recognise it as Ben’s writing. ‘DO NOT USE’. It was an old flat and so were the appliances. The cooker was a small gas one, the sort of one I had when I was a young woman. The kind of one that needs lighting with matches. Then I heard keys in the door and instinctively went to pull back but as I did my buttons had become caught on a knob at the front. I yanked it forcefully and stepped back against the wall of the kitchen just in time to see a pair of red shoes flash past. I had seen all I needed to see. The mess they resided in. I slipped from the kitchen and glanced into the lounge where I saw another flash of the red shoes, I could just about make out a body on all fours, reaching behind a chair. I thought it was her. I thought it was the girl who had taken my son and I paused for a brief second to imagine all the possibilities of the two of us alone in the flat.
Then I smelt it. Gas. My button had obviously forced the knob to one side and turned the gas on. Then something else took over, it was as though I was having an out of body experience. I walked back over to the oven and turned all four knobs on full so I could hear the gas hissing out. I wasn’t sure what sort of damage would be caused but I pulled back and crept silently towards the door, opening it just enough to slip through and out into the street. Later that night when Daisy and
Ben arrived, I felt nothing. I just thought it was all a terrible shame. I had often brushed against my own old cooker in my younger days and seconds later smelt the gas. That’s the trouble with old appliances, I suppose if you were full of a cold and lit a cigarette many minutes later you would be none the wiser.
The police officer had my handbag on the side the entire contents now sealed up in a clear plastic bag.
‘Cell F12.’ The policewoman behind the counter looked at me and spoke coldly, her eyes locked on me.
I felt the firm grip on my arm as I was escorted down the stairs to the cells. When the heavy door slammed and locked I stood motionless in the small stark room. My mind flashed back to the days with Ben when it was just us two, when he was so young, so influenced by me. I had a purpose. I was needed. I was wearing a cardigan but they had removed my shoes because they had a small heel and my feet, through my tights, could feel the chill coming up from the floor. I saw there was a blanket on the bed so I made my way towards it and wrapped it around my shoulders. I sat down on the bed and pulled my legs into my chest and rested my head on my knees.
Daisy
We stood at the door of the small ground-floor flat, an emergency home given to Ben, Jasper and me until we were able to get ourselves back on our feet. It was comfortable and there was a small private garden. The spring air had begun to turn warm and I imagined us three sat on the grass enjoying a picnic and the warm summer sun healing us.
Ben was on crutches and leant against the wall. I moved out to the pathway to greet the four people as they tentatively approached.
She arrived in front of the other three, striding ahead as she got closer. Her arms were already open. She looked at me briefly and placed a hand on my shoulder. She looked at Jasper in my arms then her eyes were on Ben. She pulled him in to her and they clung on to each other, never wanting to let go. Finally, Ben was released and I was embraced with the same furious intensity by the woman who introduced herself to me as Jenny, and who I would know as my mother-in-law. Ben’s real mother.