The Stolen Children

by Oliver Davies

  “Sorry.”

  We drove the rest of the way in silence. I knew Stephen wasn’t truly mad at me, and was simply worried for Lydia, so I left him to gather his thoughts.

  We were a touch too early for rush hour, so got out of the city without too much trouble and were met with greenery soon enough. I glanced out of the window at it all and resolved that I needed to take a couple of weekend day trips out here. I liked the city, but I was at my best out here, away from all the concrete.

  “Alright, what now?” Stephen said, a touch testily. He didn’t want to be late back to his kids, and he clearly thought that this was a waste of time.

  “Just keep an eye out,” I said. “We’ll look around, and then head back, okay?”

  He grunted, but did keep his head turned towards the window, watching the houses thin out.

  We’d been travelling for perhaps a half-hour when I jammed my foot on the break, earning a startled gasp from Stephen, and a honked horn from the driver behind me, who’d had to swerve around us.

  “What the hell?” Stephen demanded.

  I tapped the window, unclipping my seatbelt. “Horses.”

  “What?” Stephen demanded as I was climbing out of the car. Stephen got out too, jogging a couple of steps to catch up with me. “What are you doing, Mitchell?”

  “That’s the first field of horses we’ve seen,” I said. I was fully aware that this was a reach, but I wanted to give it a shot. “Lydia-”

  “Would’ve never gotten out this far,” Stephen said.

  “-loved horses,” I said, ignoring him in favour of walking towards the nearest house. Stephen huffed behind me, but followed after a moment.

  I knocked on the freshly painted red door of the old farmhouse and waited for someone to answer it.

  The middle-aged lady who opened the door looked startled to see us. “Hello?” she said shakily.

  I tried for a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m DCI Mitchell, and this is DI Huxley. We’ve not got any bad news for you, don’t worry,” I said, aware that many people jumped to the worst conclusions when they saw police on their doorstep. “Can I ask, are those horses yours?”

  She stared at me for a moment. She was wearing an apron, like we’d caught her in the middle of making tea, but she gathered herself after a moment. “Yes,” she said, “mine and my husband’s. Why?”

  “We’re just following up a lead, and we’d be right grateful if we could take a look in your outbuildings. You’re not in any trouble. We’re just… looking for something.”

  She gave me a puzzled frown, before tentatively nodded. “I don’t see why you’d want to,” she said, “but of course. There’s nowt in there but hay and straw.”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  She led us around the back, offering us both a cup of tea, which Stephen eagerly agreed to. He’d texted his wife to let her know he’d be a little late, and I was certain he’d be blaming me for it, too.

  The woman showed us the three outbuildings she had on her land; the barn, her husband’s workshop, and the stable block. She showed us each of them, in that order, and my stomach sank when the barn and workshop turned up empty. I’d known that this was an unlikely idea, but I’d somehow gotten my hopes up, anyway.

  “And the stable’s here,” she said finally. “Just take it easy, now. Our mare spooks at her own shadow.”

  “Got it,” I said absently as I looked around.

  Stephen got to talking with her about her animals while I wandered ahead, peering into each stable. It was a good-sized area and neatly kept. There were two doors at the end, one of which opened into a tack room, where several saddles were hung on the wall, and the other which seemed jammed.

  “That’s the storeroom,” the owner told me as she came over. “I haven’t opened it up in a while, it being spring and all, but it shouldn’t be locked.”

  I moved back as she came over, giving the door a hearty yank. It flew open suddenly, and my heart caught in my throat as a shape came flying out, straight towards me. I caught it instinctively and looked down to find a terrified girl in my arms.

  “Lydia,” I said, shocked.

  “What on earth,” the woman gasped while Stephen just stared.

  Lydia was shaking where I was holding onto her thin arms. Her face was pinched, and she looked like she’d lost a good deal of weight since she’d been gone.

  “Lydia,” I said gently, since her eyes were darting around, seeking an escape. “My name is Darren. I’m a police officer. Your mum and dad have been looking for you, and they really miss you.”

  Lydia’s gaze locked onto mine when I mentioned her parents. “My parents?” she said, her voice croaky like she was thirsty, or hadn’t spoken in a long time.

  “Yes,” I said. “You’re safe now, I promise. We’ll take you straight back to them. Is that what you’d like?”

  She nodded hurriedly. “Yes, please,” she whispered.

  “May I pick you up?” I asked, since she looked like a strong gust might knock her right over.

  She nodded again, holding out her arms. I scooped her up, meeting Stephen’s gaze over her shoulder.

  He shook his head at me in disbelief. “You’re like a bloodhound,” he muttered. “I’ll call the parents.”

  I gave him a weak smile. The relief of finding Lydia hadn’t quite set in yet, it still didn’t feel quite real, except there was a hungry and very real thirteen-year-old in my arms and I had every intention of taking her to her worried parents as soon as possible.

  “I- we had no idea,” the woman who owned the horses said. Her face was pale, and she looked horrified. “We’d had food go missing, but, well, I thought it was mice. I never imagined…”

  She looked halfway to shock, and I went over to put a hand on her arm, holding Lydia on my hip. “Do you think you could fix her something warm for the journey?” I asked her. “Nothing too heavy for her stomach.”

  The woman gave me a quick nod, looking better now she had a task to do. She reached out a hand to Lydia slowly, gently brushing the girl’s shoulder. “You poor mite,” she said softly, her eyes wet, before she turned and hurried back to the house.

  “Okay,” I said to Lydia, “let’s get you home.”

  Twenty-Six

  We ended up meeting Lydia’s parents at the hospital, where they rushed to Lydia’s bedside. My eyes stung to see their reunion, and I stepped away to give the three of them some privacy.

  Stephen laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, before pulling me into a tight hug.

  “Hey,” I said, surprised. “What’s this?”

  He let go of me, pulling back. His eyes were damp, but he was smiling. “You found her, Mitchell. I’m happy, for Lydia, for her parents, for us and everyone at the station.”

  I cracked a tired smile, glancing back to the Browns, where Lydia was being held tightly by her dad while Rochelle dabbed at her eyes. “Nothing like a happy ending to a case to make it all worthwhile,” I said quietly.

  Stephen punched me lightly on the arm. “Exactly. Now, you want a coffee?”

  “God, yes please,” I said. “I’m dying for one.”

  “One terrible, hospital coffee coming right up,” Stephen said, giving my shoulder one last pat before he headed off.

  Rochelle surprised me a moment later by coming to stand in front of me, holding her hand out. I shook it.

  “We’ll never forget what you’ve done for us, for our daughter,” she said, her voice cracking. “We’re very grateful.”

  I gave her a smile and a nod. “Just doing my job.”

  She shook her head. “No, you and your partner went above and beyond. Thank you.”

  She left me to return to her family, and I watched them for a moment more before turning away. I met Stephen in the corridor, carrying a cup of piping hot coffee back towards me.

  “You alright?” he said, surprised to see me.

  “Aye.” I took the coffee from him and burnt my mouth on a sip. “Let’s leave them to their r
eunion. It’s getting late. We’ll need to talk to Lydia later, of course, but not right now.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Stephen said. “Come on, then.”

  “It’s past time for you to be home,” I said to Stephen as we headed out of the hospital.

  “I know. I told Annie that we’d hit something urgent and I’d be late.”

  “I need to update Gaskell-”

  We got into the car, and Stephen shot me a look. “We’ll go and update Gaskell,” he corrected. “We’ll see this through, okay?”

  I agreed quietly, and Stephen set off back to the station. It was getting towards seven, now, and the light was beginning to fade, though each day got brighter as we got deeper into the spring. I looked out of the window on the journey home, thinking about Lydia. She was finally where she was meant to be, as was Lawrence, but they’d both be scarred by their experiences for the rest of their lives.

  “Darren,” Stephen said. “Quit your overthinking. This was the best outcome we could’ve hoped for.”

  “I know,” I said, sending him a grateful look. “We still haven’t dug up Ellie Wooding yet, though.”

  Stephen hummed. “True, and we’ll do that. But the two kids are safe, and that’s what matters.”

  “That’s what matters,” I agreed.

  Gaskell was still in the office when we got back to the station, and he stood up as we came in. Glancing between our two faces, Stephen with a grin on his face and me with a wearier but no less genuine smile, his expression brightened.

  “Good news?” he said hopefully.

  Stephen nudged me forwards. “Mitchell found the girl, Lydia, sir,” he said like a proud older brother.

  My smile widened. “Team effort,” I said.

  Gaskell grinned. “That’s brilliant, just brilliant. Where was she?”

  “Muggins here,” Stephen said, pointing at me, “figured out that, since she loved horses, she went and hid in a stable, sir. Though how the heck she got all the way out towards Malton, I have no clue.”

  Gaskell’s eyes widened. “Malton?” he repeated. “Blimey.”

  I shrugged. “I reckon she managed to get a bus, but I’m not a hundred per cent on that, sir.”

  Gaskell drummed his fingers on the table. “So now there’s just the first kid’s mother. The woman who gave us the wrong information,” he said, his expression darkening.

  “Aye, sir,” I said quietly.

  “Well,” Gaskell sighed. “Hopefully we can get something out of the blokes downstairs. We’ll need a statement from Lydia, too, as soon as she can give it.”

  “She’s in the hospital right now, getting checked out, sir.”

  Gaskell nodded. “Tomorrow, then, if she’s ready.” He gave us both a smile. “You both better head off, it’s already late, and I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

  “Yes, sir,” Stephen agreed, a little too readily.

  Gaskell chuckled. “Off you go, then.”

  As Gaskell had instructed, we called it a day and went our separate ways. I drove my car home rather than run home in the rain, and had an easy night of it, so that the next morning I was left feeling both buoyed up and refreshed.

  I met Keira at the coffee machine, and she sent me a warm smile. “You’re the hero of the hour, I hear,” she said lightly.

  I smiled back, leaning my hip against the cabinets. “I don’t know about that,” I said. “It was an educated guess that paid-”

  She waved a hand at me. “Oh hush with the modesty. You know what else I heard, Mitchell?”

  I quirked an eyebrow, though I could guess what she was about to say. “No?”

  “Happy birthday,” she said, her smile widening. She glanced around the currently empty break room before leaning forwards. She moved slowly enough that I could’ve pulled back, but I smiled slightly, pressing into her light kiss.

  I was still smiling when she pulled back. “Happy birthday to me,” I said, with a short laugh. “Thank you.”

  She squeezed my shoulder. “You’ll go far, I just know it,” she said, before heading off.

  I ran a hand through my hair after she’d gone. That was one way to start the day, I thought wryly. I finished up making my coffee before I made my way back towards my desk, sipping my too-hot coffee as I went. At least it wasn’t the dishwasher water that came out of the hospital machines, I thought.

  As I turned the corner to enter the office, I came to such an abrupt stop that I splashed coffee down my shirt.

  “Happy birthday!” a dozen or more officers called out as I stared at them all, breaking into a shocked smile. Stephen strode forwards, laughing at the mess I’d made of my white shirt.

  “I think you owe me a new shirt,” I told him.

  He grinned at me. “You’ll forget about that once you’ve eaten some cake. C’mon, Darren. Gaskell’s given us a couple of hours for a little party for you. Welcome you properly, celebrate your ageing, that sort of thing.”

  I shoved him playfully. “Thanks a bunch,” I said sarcastically. Though, looking out at the people gathered, the party food that had been laid out on the side, I was genuinely thankful.

  Stephen returned after a minute, holding a healthy slab of victoria sponge in one hand, and a small present in the other.

  “What’s this?” I asked, taking the present when Stephen thrust it on me.

  “Presents are traditional on birthdays,” Stephen teased.

  I shook my head at him and tore open the paper as several other officers looked on. I laughed when I saw it.

  “A running shirt? Thanks, Steph.”

  “Open the card,” Stephen urged.

  Bemused, I opened up the envelope, my eyes widening as I read what he’d written.

  “The Yorkshire Marathon? Are you serious? You paid for my entry?”

  Stephen gave me a hesitant smile as he spread his hands. “You like it?”

  I punched him lightly. “Of course I do, you idiot!”

  He grinned broadly. “You’ve got six months to get ripped,” he teased. “Better get to it.”

  I laughed, dragging him into a tight hug before releasing him. “Thanks. Seriously. This is perfect.”

  He looked at me warmly. “You’re part of the team here, even if you are an oddball.”

  “Running isn’t odd,” I had to say.

  He rolled his eyes at me, and I smiled in return. I couldn’t wait to have many more years at Hewford station, bickering with Stephen. Just for today, I felt like I could easily conquer a marathon, and all of life’s other challenges, which would no doubt turn out to be much harder.

  Epilogue

  My wife had brought in fresh cups of tea as I was finishing up the tale, and I took a grateful sip now, my throat dry from all the talking. The mild ache was worth it to see Liam’s busily typing away, and the warm expression on Liam’s dad’s face.

  “That was quite a case,” he said.

  I chuckled wryly. “It certainly gave us the runaround for a while there.”

  Liam’s looked up from his computer, his eyes wide. “Wait,” he said, “you can’t have finished yet!”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And why’s that, lad?”

  “But- but what happened with Lawrence’s mum? Ellie Wooding? Did she really do it all for money? Did she actually help kill her husband?”

  Both Douglas and Liam looked at me expectantly, and I cleared my throat.

  “You’re right. I didn’t get to that part. Mrs Wooding was brought in for questioning. It came out over several days. Her husband had cheated on her and divorcing him would have left her with nothing.” I shook my head. “She always swore the initial kidnapping of her son had nothing to do with her, and that she got caught up with them by accident.”

  “Did you believe her?” Liam asked.

  I rubbed my jaw. “I don’t know, honestly. She also claimed she never meant any harm to her son, and that she never wished him to get hurt.” I pressed my lips together. “Whether or not she meant to, Lawrence d
id get very badly treated.”

  Liam nodded seriously, going back to his laptop to make copious notes.

  “It’s a hell of a thing to happen right here in York,” Douglas mused, shaking his head. “I mean, I get to hear about all the worst of humanity, but this is definitely up there.”

  “Aye,” I sighed. “It was a long time ago now.”

  “And did she go to prison? Did the kidnappers?” Liam asked.

  “Mrs Wooding? Yes, she did. Ten years, I think. And the kidnappers too.”

  “And what happened to Lawrence?”

  “Well, he lived with aunt and uncle, I believe,” I said.

  “Oh,” Liam said, looking downcast. “Not with Rebecca, the housekeeper?”

  I smiled. “I’m not sure, lad. Probably his aunt and uncle moved into the Wooding house, with Rebecca there.”

  Liam looked satisfied with that. “I could follow that up,” he said to himself. “See if Lawrence will talk to me.”

  I hesitated. “He may not like to be reminded of such a difficult time,” I said carefully. “He did lose his father.”

  Liam nodded seriously. “I know, I was only going to ask.”

  “Alright then,” I said, sitting back and taking another sip of my tea. There was a brief silence as Liam finished up his notes. Douglas waited patiently, looking around my living room.

  “All done!” Liam announced abruptly, closing the lid of his laptop.

  I gave him a smile. “That was speedy.”

  Liam puffed up slightly. “I have a typing speed of eighty words per minute.”

  “Really?” I said, charmed by his enthusiasm. “That’s very impressive.”

  “My dad can do over a hundred,” Liam said quickly, “but I’m still practising!”

  “Aye, you’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” I said, smiling.

  Liam put his laptop away in his bag, but didn’t zip it up. He looked back at his dad, who gave him a nod and a smile. I watched curiously, wondering what they were up to.

  Reaching into his rucksack, Liam pulled out a wrapped present, round and slightly lumpy. My face split into a surprised smile.

  “For me?”