by Rona Halsall
‘On the contrary, Mrs Thornton, it’s our duty to do this.’ Dr Baddiel had a pained expression on her face as though Becca’s behaviour was somehow making her suffer. ‘Every NHS trust has very clear child safeguarding protocols, which I’m sure you’re aware of. We’re just following that, nothing more.’
‘This is all wrong,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I’ve been trying to protect her. Why would I go to the doctor’s and come here if it was me poisoning her?’
‘I think you know the answer to that.’ Dr Baddiel was starting to sound impatient.
‘Why don’t you go and stay at your dad’s for a little while until this is sorted,’ Dean said, as gently as if he was talking to a frightened kitten that was clinging to the curtains and wouldn’t come down.
Becca scanned the faces in the room and understood that she had no choice. She was being separated from her daughter and sent away from her home, all with her husband’s consent and the force of the law behind the decision.
And that made her wonder: Is Dean the one causing Mia’s illness?
23
They wouldn’t even let Becca go and say goodbye to Mia, and she stumbled out of the hospital feeling shaken to the core, tears streaming down her face. She’d never been away from her daughter, not even for one night, and now she had no idea when she’d see her again.
She rang her dad, and through her sobs she managed to tell him what had happened.
His voice was warm with sympathy. ‘Oh, Becca, that’s awful. I’m so sorry this is happening again.’
‘No, not again, Dad.’ She sniffed back her tears, a snap of frustration in her voice. ‘It didn’t happen the first time, remember?’
‘Sorry, love. That came out wrong. I meant you getting on the wrong side of the hospital authorities. Being accused of things.’
She swiped at her tears, her voice unsteady. ‘Can I come and stay?’
‘Of course you can, love. You come right over. I’ll tell Kate what’s going on and we’ll see you soon.’
They said their goodbyes and Becca drove to Bangor, her body shaking so much she felt she probably shouldn’t be driving. When she drew up outside her dad’s house, she leant back in her seat, body sagging with relief that she’d finally arrived. She sat for a moment, trying to compose herself. Crying wasn’t the answer, but her tears were being stubborn, and it took a few minutes before she was confident she had them under control.
She trudged into the lounge and slumped on to the sofa, too weary to take off her jacket and shoes and leave them in the hall as were the house rules. She registered the shocked expression on her sister’s face and closed her eyes, wishing this was not real, that she didn’t have to explain herself yet again.
‘Becs, what the hell’s going on? Dad said you can’t go home.’ Kate sounded as confused as Becca felt.
She sighed, tears filling her throat, not really up to recounting what had happened. Maybe it’ll make more sense when I tell someone. She was about to speak when Frank came into the room.
‘I thought I heard the door.’ Sympathy pulled at the corners of his mouth. ‘Tell you what, I’ll make us a cuppa then you can tell us what’s going on.’
He disappeared into the kitchen, coming back a few minutes later with mugs of tea and a packet of biscuits. He put them on the coffee table and sat on the edge of his chair. Kate sat on the sofa beside her. Becca could see from their expressions, she might as well have had ‘guilty’ written on her forehead. Kate hadn’t believed her the last time she’d been accused of wrongdoing. Only Frank had been sympathetic. But did he believe me then? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps he was just being protective.
Slowly she told them everything that had happened, stuttering over the details, getting things in the wrong order, having to go back and correct herself. As storytelling went, she made a right mess of it, facts and assumptions all mixed together.
‘Let me get this straight,’ Kate said when Becca finally ground to a halt. ‘They think you’re poisoning Mia to get attention, is that it? Is that what this factitious thing is?’
Becca nodded, her voice plaintive. ‘How ridiculous is that? Problem is, it’s usually mothers who harm their kids in this way, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised I’m the prime suspect.’
‘Oh, love, what a terrible situation,’ Frank said. ‘Especially after last time. It looks bad, doesn’t it, to be accused of the same thing twice?’
Becca gritted her teeth. ‘It’s not the same thing at all, Dad. Mia is my daughter, my very precious daughter, and I’d never…’ Her voice cracked, and she covered her face with her hands. She hated crying in public, but this was overwhelming.
She heard movement, felt an arm round her shoulders, floral perfume wafting in the air as Kate held her while she cried.
‘I suppose there’s nothing you can do for the time being,’ Kate said, practical as ever. ‘You’re just going to have to let them go through the process, and then they’ll work out it isn’t you and you’ll be able to go back to normal.’
‘How can I ever go back to normal after this?’ she sobbed. ‘Dean thinks I’m dangerous to have around Mia. He thinks I’d hurt her.’ But it was even worse than that. ‘He thinks… I’m mentally ill.’
Frank tutted. ‘What a mess.’
Becca sat up and angrily swiped at her eyes, determined not to submit to whatever injustice was playing out. She wouldn’t be separated from Mia. She had to find a way to be heard.
‘This is Dean’s doing,’ she said quietly. ‘If he hadn’t told them about…’ She pressed her lips together. ‘He’s set me up for some reason, I’m sure of it.’ Now she’d started her train of thought, her words rushed out of her, gathering steam, her voice getting higher, faster. ‘And if it’s him poisoning Mia, if it’s even a possibility, then how come they’re letting her live with him, and I have to be banished from my own home? There’s nobody to protect her.’ Her hands clasped her cheeks, the very thought shooting arrows through her heart.
‘Hey, love, don’t go getting yourself worked up,’ Frank said. ‘Let’s have a proper think, see if we can sort out what to do.’
Kate rubbed Becca’s arm. ‘Dad’s right. Let’s not go jumping to conclusions. Let’s be logical about this.’
‘Logical! How can I be logical when I’ve been accused of harming my child and told I can’t live with her?’ Her finger jabbed at the arm of the sofa. ‘And my bloody husband has colluded with the doctors. Nothing about that is logical but it just happened.’
Kate shushed her, pulling her closer, her hand gently squeezing Becca’s arm. Finally, Becca stopped resisting and leant into her, welcoming the comfort of her embrace.
‘Mia’s still in hospital, you say?’ Frank got up and started pacing the floor, one hand rubbing his chin. ‘So she’s safe for now.’
‘Yeah. She’s safe in hospital. But what if Dean is doing this? She won’t be safe when she gets home, will she?’
‘Come on, Becs,’ Kate murmured. ‘Why would Dean be hurting Mia? What does he get out of it?’
‘Well, he’s got me out of the house, hasn’t he?’
Kate snorted. ‘And why would he want to do that?’
Becca sighed and studied her hands, picking at a fingernail. ‘Things haven’t been… Well, it’s not been great for a little while. He’s so busy with work, he’s never at home, and sometimes I think he’d rather not be at home. And he keeps calling me Alice, so I wonder if there’s something going on there.’ The picture was becoming clearer in her mind, and she wriggled from Kate’s embrace. ‘What if he’s having an affair with Alice? He’s got me out of the house, now he can move her in.’
Kate laughed, picked up her mug and took a big gulp of tea.
‘I don’t see why that’s funny,’ Frank said, and Becca silently agreed, startled by her sister’s reaction.
‘Well, come on, Dad, the whole conspiracy thing is ridiculous. Dean wouldn’t hurt a hair on Mia’s head. He dotes on that little girl. And anyway, he
’s not that sort of person, is he?’
‘I don’t trust him,’ Frank replied. ‘Not after the way he behaved.’
Kate glared at her father. ‘Forgive and forget. We agreed that’s all in the past. If I can do it, why can’t you?’
Becca didn’t really understand what they were talking about, unnerved that the conversation had veered into foreign territory. It was a habit of theirs, though, talking in code, and Becca had no patience. ‘I’m going to go home,’ she said, standing. ‘Nobody can stop me, can they?’
Frank dashed past her and stood in the doorway, blocking her exit. ‘Now you don’t want to be doing that, love. Not when you’ve been told to stay away.’
‘But nobody’s there tonight – they’re at the hospital. If I’ve got to move out, I need clothes, don’t I? So I’m going home. Tomorrow, I’m going back to the hospital to see what’s going on. Hopefully, by then they’ll have test results and they might have found something to explain Mia’s illness that doesn’t involve me poisoning her.’
‘I don’t think you’re in any fit state to drive,’ Kate said, eyes narrowed, assessing her. ‘This is what we’ll do. I’ll take you home so you can pack a bag. Then while we’re doing that, Dad can sort out the sofa bed in the office for you. Tomorrow, I’ll come to the hospital with you, and hopefully it’ll all be down to an overzealous doctor making assumptions that are plain wrong.’
Becca thought for a moment then nodded her agreement. Kate was right – she was far too wound up to be safe on the roads. ‘Thanks, Kate. I know it’s late and you’ve got to work so—’
‘No problem,’ Kate interrupted, ready to get going. ‘That’s the beauty of being self-employed. I sort out my own hours.’ She tapped Becca on the shoulder. ‘Right, come on, let’s get a move on.’
Becca wandered round her house, picking up the bits and pieces she’d need to take, feeling like she was in some sort of trance, sleepwalking through the nightmare of her life. She couldn’t understand how everything had fallen apart so quickly. It has to be Dean, doesn’t it? He had the most to gain. Calling her Alice. It all smacked of an affair.
He’d deny it. Of course he would. So if things went badly at the hospital and she was banned from her home, and denied contact with Mia, she’d have to work hard to clear her name. Especially with her tarnished past.
Factitious disorder imposed on another was a psychological disorder that was difficult to diagnose. Nothing was precise about the label. It took several sessions of assessments with a psychiatrist, and even then it was subjective. That was the worrying thing. How many people would attest to her odd behaviour, fussing about Mia’s symptoms, not seeming to be coping? She cringed. There were quite a few. When you added it all up, as an outsider, it did seem pretty damning. Just like it had when she’d been accused of harming patients at the hospital. Her stomach griped, her head hurt.
I didn’t do it.
I didn’t.
It wasn’t me.
24
Becca couldn’t sleep. The sofa bed squeaked every time she turned over, the mattress paper thin, hardly masking the metal springs underneath. Eventually, she decided to get up, have a hot drink and try again. Frank always had hot chocolate in the cupboard, and she had a yearning for some. That’s what her mum had made for her whenever she hadn’t been able to sleep as a child. They’d sit snuggled up on the sofa, with their steaming mugs, just the two of them. Not even talking. Just being together. Those were some of her favourite memories of her mum, and she embraced them like the hug she really needed as she stood in the doorway to the lounge.
Standing in the quiet, she felt closer to her than she had since she’d died, the disagreements put to one side, allowing the positives of their relationship to make themselves known. As her thoughts stilled, she understood, as a mother herself now, that her mum had argued with her out of love. Just wanting what was best for her, wanting her to let go of troubles instead of worrying at them. Perhaps she’d been right. Something shifted inside her, a wrinkle smoothed out. Perhaps she just needed to get on with things instead of getting herself worked up into a knot of nerves, a tangle of what ifs.
Feeling calmer, she padded into the kitchen. Her handbag sat on the worktop, and while she was waiting for the milk to warm, she got out her phone and started a message to Carol saying she would be off work for a couple of days and would call her to explain. She pressed send, made her hot chocolate and went to sit in the lounge, curling up in her usual spot on the same sofa that had been there since she was a child. It had been re-covered several times, but Frank was one of those people who didn’t throw things out if they were still functional.
While her drink cooled, she flicked through her phone to see if she had any messages. If Dean had tried to call. No, he hadn’t, and that in itself was confusing. Surely he’d want to talk to her about what was happening? It was hard to comprehend how quickly he’d turned against her, and that added fuel to her suspicions that everything was down to him.
She paused when she saw she had a message on Twitter. From someone called Surferdude. Her heart fluttered. It could only be Connor. She opened it up.
You blocked me! If it was intentional and you really do want to stop talking to me, then that’s cool. I understand. But I’m hoping it was a mistake. You hit the wrong button or something? You know I still love you xxx
She reread his message. Her heart skipped. He still loves me? She breathed the idea in, allowing it to fill her up, before letting out a sigh. Then she answered.
Dean made me block you. He saw our conversations. Awkward!
She pressed send and sipped her drink, enjoying the warmth of it sliding down her throat. Her thoughts stayed on Connor. The man who said he still loved her. If that was true, surely he’d want to help her? It would be good to talk to him.
The thought was as warming as the hot chocolate. He knew everything that had happened to her before she’d gone to Australia and had never for a moment doubted that she was innocent in the hospital incidents. He’d understood. Not like Dean, whose whole demeanour had changed, immediately suspicious of her. Maybe that was why she’d never told him all the details, keeping it vague. Had she always doubted him in her heart?
She tapped out a new message.
Can we talk? I mean FaceTime or on Messenger or something? I can’t do phones so well. Prefer to see the person I’m talking to. I have so much to tell you. It’s too hard typing it all.
Her finger hovered over the send button for a moment, then she pressed it. He’d been such a friend to her when she’d really needed one, such a good listener, always measured and thoughtful with his responses. She felt a flicker of hope. Maybe I’m not alone in this.
She desperately needed someone on her side, someone who could help her find a way out of her impossible predicament. Connor was the only person she could think of. Frank was sympathetic, but after she’d had a go at Ruth, Becca felt he was wondering whether her mental health was all it should be. Kate had laughed at her theories, so she couldn’t talk to her. Carol, although a friend, was her boss and would be part of any investigation that the child safeguarding team would instigate, so she was out of bounds. As were the other district nurses she worked with. And Ruth for that matter. Apart from Connor, she had nobody to turn to.
She checked her phone every couple of minutes, but no reply. She sipped her drink. There was no choice but to wait.
Eventually, she trudged back to bed, falling asleep when the grey light of dawn filtered into the room.
Kate woke her at eight o’clock, when she came in and opened the blinds. ‘Wakey, wakey,’ she said in a sing-song voice.
Becca squeezed her eyes shut, her head throbbing, the light too bright. She’d been in such a deep sleep, it was confusing to suddenly be awake in a strange room and a strange bed. Panic flared in her chest, adrenaline surging through her, making her heart race. Something was very wrong, but she couldn’t immediately grasp it. When she saw Kate peering at her, she started t
o remember and closed her eyes again.
Mia. They think I’m poisoning her. The weight of her problems landed with a thud, pressing her into the mattress; she couldn’t move.
Kate started shaking her shoulder. ‘Sorry, Becca, but I need you to get up. I’ve work to do and I’m expecting a conference call in half an hour. We need to get this bed tidied up.’
‘Okay, okay,’ she mumbled, her mouth so dry it was a struggle to form words. She clambered out of bed and went to get a shower. When she returned, Kate had put the bed and bedding away and handed her the bag of clothes she’d packed the night before.
‘Would you mind getting dressed in the bathroom?’ Kate asked, all impatient. She looked stressed, her hand rubbing her forehead. ‘I really need to get everything sorted for this call.’
Already, Kate was starting to annoy Becca, and she went into the bathroom, as instructed, mumbling curses to herself about bossy sisters. No wonder Frank gets fed up with her if she treats him like this too. She stomped downstairs to find her dad in the kitchen making bacon butties.
‘Morning, love. I made your favourite. Thought it might cheer you up.’
Becca flopped into a chair, the smell of bacon making her stomach rumble and her mouth water. She mustered a fleeting smile. ‘Thanks, Dad.’ A mug of coffee appeared in front of her, followed by food, and she ate as Frank talked, not hearing a single thing he was saying, her mind paralysed by the thought of her daughter being taken from her. A group of strangers, passing judgement on a situation they had no understanding of. Will they even listen to me, or will Dean’s views have already poisoned their minds? It wasn’t just Dean, though, was it? Everyone she’d gone to for help with Mia’s illness probably thought she’d been making a fuss.