by K Leitch
The smell of bacon cooking wafted down to the studio where Helen was putting the finishing touches to her latest canvas. She had been there since early this morning; now that she was in the later stages of her pregnancy she was having trouble sleeping. If it wasn’t backache it was the kicking or the needing to pee about five times a night. As soon as some light filtered through her bedroom curtains, she had given up the fight and come down to the studio. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t have a nap later if she needed to, and anyway she really did need to finish this piece. It was going to a new gallery in Reigate and she wanted it to be perfect. She had chosen the view from the top of Box Hill which she had captured whilst visiting there a couple of months ago with Maggie and Tracy. After looking through what seemed like hundreds of shots, she had decided on one that not only showed the River Mole winding its way past the Watermill pub at the foot of the hill, but the lovely market town of Dorking with the spire of St Martin’s church rising up at its centre. The canvas was almost finished, but the smell coming from upstairs was just too tempting, so Helen put down her brushes and made her way up to the kitchen.
Maya had her own set of keys and so was able to let herself in without disturbing Helen at work. The tiny Polish woman was proving to be an absolute godsend. Helen's house had never looked lovelier. Her clothes were now ironed and put away instead of hanging over her bedroom chair. And last night Maya had made Helen a wonderful supper, a sort of beef goulash thing which had tasted wonderful. She had refused to stay and eat it with her though, even though Helen tried her hardest to persuade her. She just got her coat and said, ‘It would not be fitting,’ as she left Helen to it. And now it seemed that she was cooking breakfast as well, which was going way above and beyond what Helen was paying her to do.
‘Maya, what are you doing?’ she said as she came into the kitchen, making Maya jump guiltily away from the pan she was watching.
‘…Um… I make the breakfast for you, I hear you working downstair, you always working so I thought…’
‘Oh you will be spoiling me Maya…but thank you very much it smells delicious.’ Helen looked into the various pans on the hob, the fluffiest scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and aromatic mushrooms. The kitchen table had been set with a table cloth and a small vase of wild flowers set in the centre. But only one place setting again.
‘Maya there is far too much food here just for me, won’t you sit down and join me…I would love the company, please.’
Maya looked far from comfortable about this idea and began to shake her head.
‘I really won’t be able to accept any more food from you if you don’t join me Maya,’ said Helen firmly and so, reluctantly, Maya began to set another place opposite Helen.
Once they were both sat down with food in front of them, Helen began to realise just how awkward this was going to be. Maya ate her food in silence; obviously embarrassed to be sitting with her employer. Helen tried to break the silence.
‘This is really wonderful Maya, how on earth do you make those mushrooms taste so good?’
‘It is just some herbs Helen, maybe some sage…a bit of garlic.’
‘Well they really are wonderful; you are a very good cook. Did you cook for your last employer…um Mrs Chowdry wasn’t it?’
Maya nodded, ‘Chowdry yes, but I no cook for her only maybe a cup of tea sometimes.’
Helen thought about this as they both ate in silence for a couple of minutes, and an unwelcome suspicion came into her head.
‘Why do you cook for me then Maya? I mean, I never asked you to…not that it’s not lovely and I’m ever so grateful of course but…’
‘Oh well it is because you work so hard Helen. All the time painting, painting and making the flowers pretty for the church, and I know not eat enough.’
‘Oh is that it.’ said Helen relieved.
‘And now is time to take care of you…you and baby.’
Helen practically choked on her scrambled egg; bloody hell she thought she’d been so careful. She put down her knife and fork and looked at Maya who was watching her cautiously. She obviously realised that she had said something wrong but she wasn’t sure what.
‘Maya,’ began Helen, ‘have you told anyone about the baby, I mean your family or …anyone?’
‘No…who should I tell? I see no one, I speak to no one.’
Helen heaved a sigh of relief. ‘I know it may seem strange, but I don’t want anyone to know about the baby.’ Maya looked bewildered.
‘I mean of course they will know soon enough when she’s born,’ said Helen hastily. ‘But I wanted to keep her to myself until then…do you understand? Once she’s born I will have to answer lots of questions that I’m not ready to answer…so I have kept her a secret…nobody knows, except me and now you. Can I trust you to keep it to yourself…please?’
Maya sat quietly just looking at Helen for a moment as if weighing up the situation and then she smiled.
‘Yes Helen I will keep secret…but you…you let me take care of you.’
Helen started to protest but Maya put her hand up to stop her.
‘You need someone take care of you, you always working, painting, flowers, taking photos. You are tired Helen…I see it, and sometimes you are sad…very very sad.’
Helen felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes ready to spill, Maya grabbed her hand across the table.
‘You are good… kind lady Helen and I want to help you…please let me?’
Helen looked into Maya’s beautiful eyes full of concern for her, and nodded.
CHAPTER 20
At least the food had gone this morning. She had tried to tempt him with a Big Mac and fries last night but even that had stayed on the hatch until the grease had congealed into a nasty mess. This morning she had brought him some coco pops and now there was an empty bowl.
She could hear him crying again, tired little sobs that were shaking his whole body. She wished so much that she could hold him to her and comfort him, make him realise that it was all ok, she wasn’t going to hurt him. She would rather die than hurt her angel…but she knew he was scared and that was her fault.
Last night when she had been sure that he was sleeping, she had crawled into the tiny room and sat next to his bed and just watched him. She looked at his sleeping face, letting the memories that she usually kept hidden deep in the back of her mind, flood over her.
The smell of damp in the dimly lit room, the creaking of the old iron framed bed where she had laboured for hours to deliver her tiny miracle. She remembered she had held him in her arms just for a while. Looking down at his face, marvelling that something so perfect could come from something so vile and disgusting… that was before they had come. Spouting their evil; ripping her heart out of her body with their twisted scriptures and pious judgements, all the time secretly rubbing their hands together with glee at the thought of the fortune they were making. She had treasured her one memory of him in the dark days that had followed, desperately trying to cling on to it. But like everything good in her short life it had soon faded. And no matter how hard she had tried to recall it, she began to forget… even what he had looked like. That was when she knew she had to find him and bring him home.
She didn’t know how long she had sat there; but he had finally started to stir. She had put her hand on his head and stroked his hair until he settled again. But not before he had mumbled, ‘mummy,’ in his sleep. She had fled the room then, her heart breaking.
She couldn’t take much more of this…where was that wretched man, what was taking him so long? She had left two messages near the edge of the field in the place they’d agreed on, but when she’d checked earlier today they were still there…untouched. She needed to see him, speak to him, the longer they stayed here the more likely that they would be found and they would take her angel away. She felt the sweat dripping down the back of her neck as she started to panic…she could not, would not lose him, not after all she’d been through to find him.
Sh
e found her tin and used the blade opening up barely healed scars, revelling in the pain and the flow of the warm blood until she was calm again.
CHAPTER 21 - CARLA
‘Bingo!’ said Mandy excitedly and then, ‘BINGO!’ again as Carla obviously hadn’t heard her the first time.
‘What! Have you found something?’ Carla roused herself from her day dream and came over to investigate.
She hadn’t got home till after eleven last night and she had been back here by seven this morning and it looked like Mandy had done the same. She hadn’t seen James and the children properly for nearly a week. James had joked that Rosie was calling Mrs Prentice, who ran the local sweet shop, ‘mummy’. Obviously Harry hadn’t even noticed, he was far too preoccupied with his computer game. Carla missed them desperately, but she knew that her focus had to be finding this little boy. She felt strongly that he was still alive and close by and it was only a matter of time before they found him. Of course she could be wrong, but she couldn’t let herself think of that possibility, otherwise she would crack up. Now it seemed like they may have had the breakthrough they had been waiting for.
‘Where is she, I can’t spot anyone in that jumble of people?’ she said as she squinted at the screen over Mandy’s shoulder.
‘Wait a minute she’s not here yet…now keep your eye on the very edge of that group of people near the door. The girl in the fishnets, keep your eye on her, or rather just behind her…NOW… THERE...did you see her squeezing past the group, and then she comes out near the lamp post and you get a good view here.’
Carla watched as the image of a young woman slipped past the group of girls outside the community centre almost unnoticed, and then made her way along the road in the direction of Larkspur road. As she passed under the light they had a reasonably good view of her eyes and mouth, they could also see what she was wearing. A dark zip up hooded jacket, jeans that had a whole in the knee of one leg, and trainers, forensics would need to clean up the picture so that they might be able to determine what make of trainers they were, and if they could possibly match the cast of the footprint found outside the French windows at the Marshall house. They also needed to find an image that would be good enough to freeze and show on tonight’s episode of Crime Watch. Susan and Gordon Marshall had agreed to go onto the program to appeal for witnesses; Chief Inspector Drew was also going to ask for the public’s help. These new images would be invaluable.
‘Right now look at this,’ went on Mandy. ‘If we fast forward to about 27 minutes later…now look carefully at the far right of the screen.’
And sure enough, there she was again but this time she was carrying something, something quite cumbersome by the look of it. It could have been a bundle of old clothes, but it also could have been a child wrapped up in something. Carla felt a frisson of excitement… they were closing in on her. Let’s just hope they weren’t too late, she studied the images again.
‘She hardly looks big enough to carry a five year old child all the way through the woods. I mean no matter how small the child is it takes a lot of strength to carry them any distance. And that’s got to be, what, a mile… mile and a half walk? And not an easy walk either, along a muddy woodland path, at night? No, I think she had help; and why isn’t he struggling, was he drugged or knocked unconscious? She would have needed to be able to subdue him to have got him out of the house without waking anyone… can we pick her up anywhere else?’
‘Not so far Ma’am, the cameras covering the stretch of road leading up towards the common are out. There is a cash machine on the wall of the HSBC on the high street and we’re waiting to see if that has picked up anybody walking by…but even if it did it might not be a good enough image.’
‘Ok Mandy, good work, let me know if anything else turns up. I’m going to head on up to the gypsy camp again; see if a night’s sleep has jogged Mr McKinny’s memory some more. And I’ll bring him back so that he can have a look at those images, see if he recognises her.’
CHAPTER 22 - TRACY
Tracy decided to have her lunch whilst walking Buster today. It made sense; mainly because she was having trouble keeping anything down, and yesterday had only just made it to the staff toilets in time. Luckily they had been empty and nobody saw her, but it was only a matter of time before her friends at work started putting two and two together. And until she told Simon she didn’t want her secret getting out. But also this was the first bright sunny day for about a week, and she fancied getting some fresh air. The bluebells should be pushing their way through the woodland floor by now so she decided to walk that way to see them.
Buster was ecstatic at the thought of an extra walk and was running on ahead making the most of Tracy’s distracted mood by rolling in anything that smelt interesting. And generally making a nuisance of himself with any woodland creature he came across.
Tracy had got used to seeing the caravans in the lower meadow now. And had even occasionally stopped to have a chat with Poppy, one of the gypsies. She seemed to have countless enormous sons living with her. All of which seemed to rely on her doing all their washing and cleaning not to mention feeding them, and all in one not very large caravan. It was difficult to see what her sons did to help her. Each morning she would see them piling into their various trucks and vans so she supposed they must be doing something to pull their weight, but nevertheless Poppy was always busy. Every time Tracy saw her she was cleaning something, beating her rugs or wiping down windows or steps. But she seemed happy with it and never failed to smile and wave as Tracy walked past. Tracy felt slightly in awe of her and her ability to cope in what must have been quite difficult circumstances.
‘Depends what you’re used to I suppose,’ she said to herself. ‘If you’ve lived all your life that way then I expect it’s no problem at all; but still, I hope I’m as good a mum when this little one comes.’ She had started feeling the reality of her situation the last couple of days, and it was freaking her out a bit if she was honest. Just the fact that someone, albeit a tiny little someone, was going to depend on her for everything…, ‘What if I’m not up to it…what if… oh for goodness sake Tracy snap out of it and stop being such a wuss.’ She almost shouted at herself, then stopped in embarrassment because it was obvious that she wasn’t alone, she could hear voices, raised voices not far ahead.
She decided to turn off the path and walk through the woods a little way to avoid whoever it was. There was a cut through in the trees up ahead that would take you up to the next meadow, so she started walking up towards it.
Unfortunately the voices became louder and clearer; she must be heading towards them rather than away. She turned and started to retrace her steps, Buster following on behind, obedient if not a little bewildered by his mistresses contrariness.
The voices were loud now, a man and woman shouting aggressively at each other. Even if she hadn’t wanted to Tracy could clearly hear what was being said.
‘You promised,’ the woman screamed, ‘you said you would help me get back home, that’s all I need from you. I can do the rest…but you promised, why are you being like this…NO don’t turn away from me.’
‘Look I know what I said but things ‘ave changed’, growled the man.
‘What things? What’s changed…don’t you love me anymore is that it…oh god I don’t believe it, all our plans…please look at me, you love me I know you do.’ She sounded so desperate Tracy’s heart went out to her. Obviously this man was impervious to her pleading as he said coldly.
‘I’m sorry but that’s just the way it is…I ‘elped you last week didn’t I. I can’t do no more sorry, that’s just how it is…look stop pulling at me I’m not going away with you, I’m settled here now….’
It went quiet apart from the sounds of someone (obviously that poor girl) weeping. When he next spoke the man sounded wheedling, trying to pacify her.
‘Come on love, you’ll be ok, I can give you some money; enough for your train fare back ‘ome, ‘ow about that…I can’t
say fairer than that now can I? You know these things ‘appen don’t they? And I ‘aven’t seen you for ages, you just left without telling me where you were going. It’s all very well sending me a letter asking for ‘elp, but I’ve done all I can do…sorry and all that…but you’re on your own now…hey! Hey none of that….’
Tracy could hear a bit of a scuffle going on; it sounded like the girl was trying to give him a slap. Tracy felt like cheering her on; the bastard, leading that poor girl on like that then letting her down, she wasn’t surprised, she wanted to claw his eyes out.
‘OI! That’s enough ok, that bloody hurt…I said that’s enough you mad fucking cow. If you carry on I’ll hit you back…ooommff…right you come ‘ere you little bitch…’
Tracy thought it might be time to make them aware of her presence, before someone got seriously hurt.
‘BUSTER!…Buster where are you, you bad dog!’ she called in a loud voice. Buster raised his head from a nearby tree and just looked at her as if she was mad.
‘BUSTER!...Oh there you are…oh excuse me.’ Tracy said to a scruffy looking man who came sauntering out of the wood as if nothing had happened. He gave Tracy a nod as he went passed, and, other than one rather pink cheek, he looked none the worse for wear. She only saw the retreating form of the girl, as she ran away through the woods as fast as her feet would take her.
‘Wow,’ Tracy said under her breath, ‘who would have thought a lunchtime walk would be so exciting’. Well at least that had taken her mind off her problems for a while…that poor girl, thank god she’d got her lovely Simon….well until he found out she was up the duff and ran a mile that was. Oh thank goodness she’d got a cauldron meeting later tonight. Helen or not, she was going to have to tell them and see what they had to say.
She fished her phone out of her pocket and called Carla’s number, it started ringing and strangely enough she could hear it ringing not far from where she was standing, Carla answered.