by Diane Saxon
‘Yep.’ She pushed to her feet and glanced through the kitchen to the movement beyond the window, her gaze glanced off Kim Stafford as she considered how to get Joshua into the police car and away without him seeing. The last thing they needed was that information exploding all over the headlines before they had a chance to speak with Zak. With a roll of relief, her gaze moved onto the old blue Mazda just pulling up to the kerb as it squeezed in between the ambulance and police car. ‘Looks like it’s not an issue anyway, Mason. Social services are here.’
His indelicate snort said everything about what he thought of social services taking over. He wanted it. Wanted to take the child back to his father. To Zak.
Her chest squeezed tight. There was nothing more in the world she wanted but to reunite Joshua with his father. To put an end to at least part of his torture. But it wasn’t the way of things.
Muscles cracked and groaned as she stretched her back straight, pushing her shoulders back and circling her neck before she made her way through to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and drew out one of the bottles of milk and swung the door to again.
She raised the bottle and tilted it in Mason’s direction. ‘What do I do with this?’
Joshua back in his arms, Mason made his way through to the kitchen. ‘Drop it in a bowl of boiling water, heat it. Test the milk on the inside of your wrist so that it’s just warm.’
The toddler hitched out an excited breath, lips smacking, and reached towards the bottle.
Panic spliced Jenna’s heart at his apparent desperation. ‘Can’t I microwave it? Won’t it be quicker?’
‘Nope. It creates hotspots. Do it the old-fashioned way, Jenna.’
She flew across the kitchen, panic making her heart race as she grabbed the white retro kettle, snatched the lid off and filled it. ‘Bloody hell, bloody hell, if you’d said earlier, I could have had the kettle boiled.’ She slapped the kettle down and flicked the button. It was going to take an age to bloody well boil.
She peered out of the window at the woman from social services, still sitting in her car, a pile of paperwork wedged against her steering wheel as she appeared to study it.
Jenna turned her back on both the kettle and the window, puffing out a breath as she slouched against the counter.
Mason’s lips twitched as the child bounced in his arms, excitement making him jiggle, his chubby naked feet kicked at Mason’s stomach. ‘Have a look in the cupboards, see if there’s any Weetabix.’
Without argument, she swung open cupboard after cupboard, careful not to disturb anything. ‘No Weetabix. The food in here isn’t exactly child-friendly, which leads me to believe the woman upstairs was only visiting. Muesli?’
‘Nuh-uh. Look in the breadbin.’ He nodded to the white breadbin in the corner as he bounced the child on his hip.
Jenna tilted her head on one side. ‘Who the hell are you and what have you done with my detective constable?’ She could barely connect the man quite happy to deck another with the one just as at ease comforting a child.
Mason rumbled out his amusement as Jenna opened the lid on the breadbin and reached in for the paltry two slices of bread left inside. She pulled them out, one almost stale crust together with one slice of bread and pulled her lips back in disgust.
‘Stick it in the toaster. If it’s not mouldy, it’ll be fine.’
She flashed Mason a quick look, lifted the bread to her nose and gave a quick sniff for any evidence of mould and then did as he said, aware of Ryan’s close interest as he silently observed every last exchange and move.
Mason nodded at the fridge. ‘See if there are any eggs.’
‘Eggs? Can toddlers eat eggs?’ How old did they have to be?
Mason’s face wiped clean. He blinked. Opened his mouth. Blinked again. ‘Of course, they bloody well can. What else do kids eat apart from Weetabix?’
‘Well…’ She opened the fridge and peered inside and then scooped up two eggs from the egg rack. ‘I don’t keep my eggs in the fridge. It’s not good to. It does something to the albumen.’ She swung the door to and appreciated the soft sigh of it as it self-closed. The sense of relief gave her a moment of self-indulgence, time to let her mind rest with trivialities. She turned and both men stared at her with the same puzzled looks on their faces. She shrugged, opened a drawer beneath the hob, took out a pan and placed the eggs inside. ‘Apparently putting them in the fridge door isn’t good for them as the temperature fluctuates too much.’ She had no idea where she’d read that information, it may have been from one of Donna’s Good Housekeeping magazines Jenna flicked through from time to time on her lunch break.
As the kettle clicked off, she picked it up, filled the pan, lit the gas under it and moved away to fill the dark blue bowl with the boiling water. She sank the bottle of milk into it to warm through. She turned and sent them both a bright smile. She had reason to smile. The sense of exhilaration turned her giddy. They’d just found their lost toddler. They’d found Joshua. If she could run around in circles punching the air, she would, instead she’d settle for a little banter.
‘Also, they’re porous, so anything you keep in the fridge that’s smelly will soak through to the egg.’
Satisfied she’d wowed them with enough of her knowledge, Jenna slipped the delicate white highchair out from behind the open door of the kitchen and unfolded it. She patted the back of the seat. ‘Would you like to put him in?’
Mason made his way over as Jenna lifted the bottle out of the hot water and gave it a shake before she removed the lid and tested the heat of the milk against the inside of her wrist. ‘How do you know?’
‘Did it burn?’
‘No.’
‘Was it cold?’
‘No.’
‘Was it warm?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then it’s done. Give it to him.’
‘Do I have to…?’
‘No. He’s a big boy, just give him the milk before he dehydrates, Jenna.’
She thrust the bottle towards Joshua. He snatched it from her hand and rammed the teat into his mouth so fast he squished his nose against it in his haste to drink.
Jenna’s chest tightened at the desperation as he let out gentle squeaks of appreciation.
She narrowed her eyes as she contemplated the little boy. ‘Don’t you find it strange that there’s a nursery, fully kitted out in a house that, according to the neighbour, had no baby until Joshua was brought here?’
‘Don’t you find the whole situation seriously fucked anyway?’
She blew out a breath of laughter at Mason. ‘We need to find this Emily. Perhaps she’s rented the house out to Fern. I don’t know. It’ll all come out in the wash.’
As the toaster popped, she grabbed the toast, slid it onto the blue plate she snatched out of the cupboard and handed it to Mason, before she swept the small pan off the hob and went to the sink. She blasted cold water into the pan as she spared a moment to look out of the window again. ‘How long does it take to complete the paperwork? She doesn’t even know what she’s coming to yet.’
‘Please tell me it’s not Dot.’ Mason grumbled from behind her.
Jenna snorted. ‘It is.’ It wasn’t her real name, but Mason insisted on calling her it. For Ryan’s benefit, she clarified. ‘Dot the i’s, cross the t’s.’
She dipped her hand into the cold water and tested the temperature of the eggs. Warm.
She turned as Mason finished buttering the toast. He cut it into long fingers and placed it on the plastic tray in front of Joshua. ‘Why can’t it be Tammi? Tammi’s bloody lovely with kids. At least she’s got a heart. I’m not sure Dot does.’
The little boy grabbed a soldier in each hand and rammed one straight into his mouth while he squeezed the life out of the other in his excitement, kicking his feet against the plastic footrest of the highchair.
Jenna’s breath stuttered with uncontrolled alarm. ‘Don’t let him choke. For the love of Jesus, please don’t let him choke. Dot�
�ll bloody kill us.’
‘No worries. He won’t choke.’ Relaxed, Mason chuckled as though the prospect of a dying infant hadn’t crossed his mind. ‘He knows what he’s doing. Don’t you, chap?’ He ruffled the long, black ringlets and shot the boy a wide grin. ‘Aw, Joshua, you hungry, kiddo?’
Joshua gave an enthusiastic nod and rammed another soldier in his mouth, fisting another two in the other hand.
Jenna lopped the top off each of the eggs and placed one of them in an eggcup, one of two matching the blue service she could find in the cupboard.
As she placed it in front of Joshua, he lunged forward and stabbed the soldier into the egg, deep yellow yolk spilled over the side and dribbled across the plastic tray.
‘He knows what he’s doing with that.’ Mason raised his chin and peered over the top of Jenna’s head out of the window. ‘Dot’s on her way in.’
36
Tuesday 13 July, 08:50 hrs
For a woman who had spent the best part of forty years looking after the walking wounded, the abused children, the beaten wives, Jenna had never been convinced that Dot even liked humans. Nothing about her screamed ‘people person’. Deep lines of discontent etched the sides of her mouth and a long, thin line lay horizontally over her top lip, where it continually curled back with distaste. Dot was all about filling in the paperwork and nothing about the human aspect of her job. In the final year before her retirement, it appeared she’d given up altogether on the pretence.
A direct contrast to Harry, whose human element would never be undermined.
As Dot swept through the kitchen doorway, her sour glance took in the whole scene with one pre-judgemental scowl.
Jenna forced a smile and remembered to use her real name. ‘Sylvia. Good to see you again. It’s been a while. Not since…’ She couldn’t grasp the last time she’d worked alongside the other woman.
‘Last year. Missing schoolboy. Found him setting light to the gym. Had to be put in special care due to his persistence in lighting fires. Little pyromaniac. Believe he’s still not been cured of it. Set his dorm alight a couple of months ago, so the home had to evacuate. Charming young gentleman.’ Every word spoken was deadpan. Flat. Emotionless.
Jenna let the silence hang in the air for a moment, unsure if the other woman had finished. ‘That’s the one.’ She gave a slow nod, keeping her fixed grin in place.
Sylvia’s nostrils flared as she took in Joshua cramming food into his mouth, his chubby little fist following so he almost swallowed it. ‘What do we have here? I’ve been given very little information.’ Disapproval dripped from her words. ‘It would have been nice if they’d seen fit to give me more than a child needs to be taken into protective custody.’
She made it sound as though he was about to be imprisoned.
‘Sorry about that, Sylvia. We weren’t aware of the situation ourselves until a few moments ago. We believe this is Joshua Cheetham-Epstein. The little boy who went missing a couple of days ago?’ Jenna’s voice lifted on the end as though it was a question, but she just needed to know if Sylvia was up to speed on current affairs. ‘It’s been in all the papers.’
‘Hmmm.’ Sylvia inclined her head. ‘That’s a little girl.’
‘Yes. Ummm. No. This is definitely a little boy wearing girl’s clothing.’ At the look of doubt Sylvia shot her, Jenna firmed up her tone. ‘We can confirm this is a little boy. Mason just changed his nappy.’
Sylvia’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, horror flitting across her face. ‘You changed him, before I got here?’
Mason drew in a long, gusty breath through his teeth, flexed his shoulders and cricked his neck as though he was about to take on a heavyweight boxer, a scrapper himself, he was more than willing to take her on as Ryan watched with interest. ‘I’m adequately qualified to verify that he’s very definitely male. We considered it wasn’t necessary to wait for supervision under the circumstances, given Joshua was in considerable discomfort, wearing a wet, dirty nappy which we assumed had been on for some time.’
Jenna dipped her head to hide her smile, surprised that Mason hadn’t told Sylvia the child’s nappy had been full of shit.
‘We’ve bagged the nappy for SOCO.’ Ryan offered.
Sylvia’s thin lips pursed with disapproval, wrinkles shooting out in a starburst to join the deep brackets at the edges of her mouth. ‘Why is he wearing a dress?’
Jenna jumped in before Mason said something they might all regret; he’d shown enough restraint already, she didn’t need a war zone. ‘We have no idea. We’ve a stab victim upstairs, unidentified as yet, and can only assume either her, or Emily, the woman who owns the house, were trying to disguise the child’s sex. For obvious reasons.’ At Sylvia’s steady look, Jenna added, ‘Presumably because one – or both of them – kidnapped him.’
She glanced down at Joshua as the deep sounds of appreciation gurgled from him while the bright yellow yolk smeared up his face. A ghost of a smile curved Mason’s lips while he watched the little boy.
Sylvia’s sour smile did nothing to lighten her hard eyes. ‘I’m not entirely sure that’s the best meal choice for a child of his age.’
Before Jenna could use subtle intervention, Mason whipped his head around. ‘I’m entirely positive that’s the best meal choice for Joshua. The only thing we could add to it is a banana for dessert. Which he will have in just a moment.’ He strode across the kitchen and snatched up a small bunch of bananas from a fruit bowl, his grasp on them tight enough to send his knuckles white. He snapped one off the bunch and peeled it, kicking the foot pedal on the bin down, he launched the skin into it with a touch more force than necessary. ‘A balanced diet. Good nutrition.’ He pointed at the white tray full of mushed-up food. ‘Bread, part of a staple diet. Carbohydrates and fibre. Eggs, bloody marvellous source of protein.’ He held up the banana. ‘Potassium, f… f… fibre.’
Jenna almost snorted as he held onto that f-word as Ryan ducked his head, unable to hide his wide grin.
As he returned to the high chair, Mason’s voice morphed as he spoke to Joshua in a low, teasing croon, something she’d never heard from Mason before, not even when she caught his soft murmurings in Fliss’s ear, which she refused to think about.
In the awkward silence, Jenna kept her attention on the toddler, tempted to let out a childish laugh as the burst of excitement at finding him refused to fizzle out.
Sylvia clucked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and shuffled the papers in her hand, all bustle and business. ‘Right then. As soon as he’s ready, I’ll take him to the hospital, have him checked over by a doctor, then onto the safe house, complete the paperwork, contact his…’ she glanced at her notes, ‘… relevant parent.’
‘Zak.’ Eyes flat, Mason glanced up. ‘Joshua’s father is called Zak. Zak Cheetham-Epstein. His mother, Imelda, is currently in hospital with possible brain damage.’ He vibrated with anger at the same time as he managed to break off a piece of banana making it look like it might just be her neck. ‘That was also on the news. We won’t know the results until they try to bring her out of the induced coma they put her in after she was attacked. She suffered considerable head injuries, possibly from one of the two women who have held Joshua – Imelda and Zak’s son – incarcerated for the last few days.’
Sylvia narrowed her eyes and raised the hand that held the paperwork. ‘So, I understand.’
Ryan let out a soft snort.
As Mason opened his mouth, Jenna stepped between them. ‘Which safe house will you use?’
Without hesitation, Sylvia replied, ‘Falsworth Road.’ She knew her job inside out, but somewhere along the way, she’d lost her sense of compassion and human interaction. It was no longer a calling, had it ever been, but a nine-to-five job she carried out whilst treading water, waiting for retirement.
Mason ignored her and held out half the banana to Joshua. With laughter in his eyes, Joshua’s cheeks rode up in plump happiness as he reached out, grasped the ripe banana and squished
it between his fingers so it squelched out over the back of his hand and flobbed onto the tray. He lowered his head and sucked the banana from his skin making yummy, yummy noises as he smacked his lips.
Mason dropped down to his haunches, so his head was on a level with the white tray of the table and he peered up at the little boy. ‘You were hungry, weren’t you, mate?’
Joshua’s legs kicked wildly up and down.
Jenna ran a tongue around her teeth as she considered her alternatives. She didn’t want Joshua alone with the social worker for one minute longer than he had to be. Amazed at the transformation from the hysterical child to the smiling, happy toddler in front of them, they had no idea what trauma he’d been exposed to and the last thing he needed was Sylvia’s cold aloofness. He needed warmth and understanding, someone who could keep him happy and entertained.
The doctor at the hospital would examine him for physical and sexual abuse, but there was no telling what the mental and emotional impact would bring at a later stage.
Mason blew a raspberry and jiggled his eyebrows, engaging the little boy.
Joshua’s legs bounced erratically as he gurgled his approval and shoved the last piece of mangled banana in his mouth, opening wide for Mason to view his masticated food.
Without hesitation, Mason leaned in, a wide grin on his face as he peered into Joshua’s mouth to elicit laughter from the little boy.
Damn, Mason might just kill Sylvia given the chance, but it was Jenna’s best option. Before she could talk herself out of it, she addressed Sylvia.
‘DC Mason Ellis will accompany you.’
Mason froze as Sylvia’s brows shot up, but neither one of them would sway her in her decision.
Jenna smoothed the way. ‘We need continuity of evidence, et cetera, et cetera.’ She wiggled her fingers in a casual manner intended to show she understood that Sylvia knew the ins and outs of the job and the et cetera, et cetera was because Jenna didn’t feel the need to elaborate on a subject matter Sylvia was well versed with. ‘Also, we have no idea where this Emily has absconded to, so, for the safety of all concerned, you and little Joshua will be accompanied by my officer.’