The Perfect Nanny

by Karen Clarke

  ‘Will you use them?’

  ‘I doubt it. Not really my thing.’

  I entered the room, and sat down on the sofa, and Mum smiled at me from her chair. I was still reeling from Ryan’s revelation, unsure if I should tell Mum.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind sharing one with Tom Jones,’ Mum was saying, and Freya burst out laughing.

  ‘You are naughty, Martha,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I’d better go and finish unpacking.’

  ‘Are you OK, love?’ Mum said once she’d hung up. That was the thing about my mum: she could still pick up if I wasn’t myself, even though I tried hard to hide it.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Is Freya OK? I heard you say she wasn’t herself when she left.’

  ‘She was getting herself in a pickle about Finn, that’s all.’

  ‘Finn? Why?’ I leant forward, met Mum’s eyes. She looked so well, considering her earlier ordeal.

  ‘She was just worried about him.’ She bit down on her lip. ‘If I tell you something, you have to promise not to be cross with Freya. She only did it because she was worried.’

  ‘Did what?’

  ‘She called social services.’

  ‘That was Freya?’ My heart pounded. ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘She made a wrong decision once, a long time ago. She was a social worker. A child died.’

  ‘Oh my God, that’s awful.’

  ‘There had been reports from neighbours about the little boy being neglected by his mother. She was always asleep, and the husband worked long hours. Freya visited the mother a couple of times, and was convinced by her. She’d told Freya the neighbourhood had it in for her. A week later the woman smothered her child, and took her own life.’

  I covered my mouth in shock.

  ‘Freya blamed herself. Gave up her job after that. Said she couldn’t cope with the responsibility, and didn’t want to be put in that position ever again.’ Mum shook her head. ‘That’s why she reported Sophy. It had all the tell-tale signs of the case she’d worked on.’

  ‘I suppose I do sort of get it, but Sophy is nothing like the woman who killed her son. She would never hurt Finn.’ My mind drifted to Freya’s reaction, when I told her about the social worker descending on Sophy. ‘It isn’t easy for social services. Making the choice to take a child from their parents, even if it’s for their own good. But sometimes it has to be done.’

  I’d seen a maroon Volvo Estate outside Sophy’s house the day Finn disappeared – Freya owned a maroon Volvo Estate. Oh God, she’d been worried about Finn – would she have taken him? Had the sound I’d heard on the phone line been a baby’s cry after all?

  My pulse raced. ‘What’s the site called? The one where Freya is staying?’

  Mum shrugged. ‘Hearts and Roses, I think.’

  I dived to my feet. ‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘I may be late. Will you be OK?’

  ‘Of course, I will. Where are you going?’

  ‘Just out.’ If Freya had taken Finn I would get him back, and make everything right.

  Chapter 35

  Sophy

  I drove on autopilot, half expecting to be chased by a police car as I headed into Stevenage, passing through the old town where I grew up, past the little house that belonged to someone else now. I’d cried when it was sold, helping Mum pack our belongings, our memories, into cardboard boxes. I hoped the owners were as happy as I’d been, back when things were simple, my future a fuzzy daydream.

  My eyes strained at road signs through the darkness as the streets grew unfamiliar, in parts of the town I’d never been to before, until I reached Chells Way, a seemingly endless road of near-identical, two-storey houses with lit-up windows, their curtains pulled across. I didn’t know which house belonged to Liv’s mum, but was prepared to hammer on every door until I found her.

  Halfway down, a familiar figure hurtled out of a short driveway onto the pavement and I slowed the car, my heart catapulting into my throat. It was Liv, yanking at the door of her Mini, her coat flapping in the wind. In the sodium glow of the street lamp her face was drawn, lips parted as though in shock. Was she going to him? To Finn?

  I wanted to leap out and shake the truth from her, rattle her until her eyes rolled back in her head, but knew as I pulled up to the kerb a couple of cars behind, I had to be careful not to scare her off. I didn’t know Liv’s agenda and my instincts screamed that to find my baby, I needed her.

  On the dashboard, my phone lit up with another call from Dom. He’d been ringing since I left the house, but I’d ignored it, as well as the raft of messages he’d sent. Hopefully, he’d call his father. Kind, dependable Robert, who would comfort his wife, reassure Dom that Finn would be found, that I would be fine, that everything would be OK.

  If only I believed that.

  I forced myself to focus on the car’s tail-lights as Liv reached the end of the street and turned left, taking care to hold back in case she spotted me. I was grateful for the darkness that swallowed us up as we left the lights of the town behind. It was unlikely she’d recognise the car, even if she suspected she was being followed.

  I fleetingly thought about calling the police, but if Liv knew they were onto her, she could change her mind, decide not to reveal where Finn was. The thought made my stomach flip. I couldn’t risk it.

  As we reached the A1 motorway, fear flooded my veins. Where was she going?

  My shoulders were rigid with tension as I gripped the steering wheel. Tears scalded my cheeks and my breath came in bursts when I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Finn’s baby seat in the back, his blue blanket strewn across it.

  Hold on, baby boy, I’m coming to get you.

  Maybe Liv thought Finn would have a better life with her and her mystery man than with a mother who slept her life away, hardly present even when she was awake, too frightened to take proper care of her own child.

  The strange thing was, I didn’t feel tired anymore. The cotton-wool feeling that had blanketed my senses for so long had peeled away, leaving my nerves exposed. I could feel everything; the blood pulsing hot and thick in my temples, my limbs fizzing with pent-up energy, my heart beating a rapid tattoo in my chest. Find Finn, find Finn, find Finn.

  I started to bargain with a God I didn’t believe in. Let Finn be safe and I’d never take my eyes off him again. I would get to the bottom of whatever was wrong with me and be a better mother, take more interest in our lovely house. I’d be a better wife to Dom, apologise for accusing his mother of stealing our son. I would even forgive Liv for whatever her part in this was. She was clearly troubled, had wormed her way into my life for a reason.

  I’ll do anything, God, just let my baby be safe.

  My eyes were tight and sore with tears and from keeping Liv’s car in view as she darted from one lane to another, breaking the speed limit. My foot ached on the accelerator from resisting the impulse to catch up, to let her know I was there.

  I tried to read the road signs as we shot past, but there were so many place names it was impossible to pin down where Liv was heading. Cambridge? Bury St Edmunds? Somewhere remote, I was betting. Imagining Finn with a sinister stranger in a run-down cottage in the woods made me want to howl, to bang my head on the steering wheel, to rip my hair out. I tried to slow my breathing and clamped my jaw to stop a scream escaping.

  As we diverted onto the A505, my phone rang again, the sound like a scratch in my brain. I hit answer on the speaker system, more to stop the noise than anything else.

  ‘Dom, I—’

  ‘Sophy, it’s Mum.’ I swerved the car and the lorry driver behind me blasted his horn before overtaking. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Oh, Mum.’ It came out sounding strangled. ‘Finn’s been kidnapped.’ The words sounded as though they belonged in a film, not my life. ‘He’s missing.’

  ‘Dom told me.’ Her voice was thick with tears and dread. ‘He said you’ve taken off and they don’t know where you are.’

  ‘I’m going to find my baby.’ It s
eemed obvious. She, of all people, would understand. Mum had fought so hard for me, to give me the best childhood she possibly could. She’d have done anything for me.

  ‘He said you’ve not been well.’

  I gave a dull laugh. ‘I’m fine, Mum,’ I said, brushing tears from my cheek with my wrist. ‘I have to bring him home.’

  ‘Sophy …’ Her voice grew muffled, as though she’d pressed a tissue to her face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me what was going on? I could have come over—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘I just need to find Finn.’

  ‘That poor baby.’ More smothered weeping then her voice came back, stronger this time. ‘Do you know where he is?’

  ‘No, but I think I know someone who does.’ My resolve tightened, a hard ball in my chest. ‘I’m following her now.’

  Mum gave a whimper of fear. ‘Sophy, you should let the police deal with this.’ Her words were a plea. ‘It’s not safe; you’re not safe.’

  You’re my baby, she was saying. Her worst nightmare would be something happening to her child, just as mine was something happening to Finn. ‘I have to go.’ My throat was tight. ‘I’ll let you know when I’ve found him.’ I ended the call, knowing she could at least tell Dom I was alive.

  Liv was several cars ahead now. Panic sliced through me as I put my foot down, the glare of headlights on the other side of the motorway making my head pound. What if, after all this, she was simply taking a break, getting away from me? There could be a suitcase in the boot of her car. My baby could be in her car.

  Oh God, why had the police been so quick to let her go?

  I thought how quick Liv had been to deflect suspicion from herself by accusing Elizabeth, and wondered whether that was part of her plan.

  Time had taken on a nightmare feel, speeding up and slowing down. It seemed as if we’d been driving for hours when Liv took the slip road onto the A14. Nausea rolled in my stomach. I was thirsty, my eyes like burnt coals in my throbbing head, but my thoughts took on a pin-sharp quality as I realised she’d been following signs to Suffolk and sensed we were almost there.

  It started raining, splattering the roof of the car and bouncing off the tarmac. The windscreen wipers swayed hypnotically as I peered harder at the Mini in front. I could make out the shape of Liv’s head, unmoving above the car seat. What was she thinking? She’d seemed so fond of Finn. Surely she wouldn’t hurt him or let him come to harm.

  Please God, don’t let her hurt my baby.

  As the roads grew narrower, more rural, my heartbeat accelerated. There was less traffic. It would be more obvious Liv was being tailed. I had to hope she was so intent on her destination she wasn’t checking the car behind her. Even so, I veered into a lay-by and let a car overtake before pulling out again.

  When she stopped and indicated, I hung back. As she turned the car into what looked like the entrance to a field, I drove past slowly and saw a sign, spot-lit from above. Hearts and Roses Holiday Lodges was painted in dark, cursive script.

  It was a holiday site; the sort of place Mum and I had stayed sometimes when I was growing up, but with lodges instead of caravans. Had Liv booked one in advance, knowing all along this was where Finn would be brought? Was this where her accomplice was staying?

  It seemed so unlikely, but maybe that was the point. The police had already alerted the airports and docks, so where better to hide a baby than a holiday site in Suffolk, seemingly designed for pensioners, and parents with young children?

  I swerved the car down the next turning and doubled back to the site, my nerves raw. This was the place, I was certain of it.

  The rain eased as I entered the site, bumping the car over a cattle grid. I braked hard when I saw Liv had pulled up ahead and was leaning out of her window, talking to someone housed in a brightly lit hut. Sweat prickled my scalp. It must be one of those places you couldn’t drive into without a booking and proof of identity.

  Liv’s head ducked back into her car and she pulled away.

  Without thinking, I drove to the hut and lowered my window. ‘I’m with her,’ I said to the woman inside. She looked like someone’s grandmother with thick white wavy hair, round glasses and smiling eyes, her shirt depicting the hearts-and-roses logo in pink and green thread. ‘Liv Granger, she’s my sister,’ I added. My heart banged as though trying to break through my ribs. I pinned on a smile, hoping I didn’t look as terrible as I would in broad daylight. ‘I don’t have any …’ I struggled for something convincing. ‘I can show you my driver’s licence, if you like.’ I waved my hand in the direction of the Mini, slowly disappearing up a winding road lined with hedges. ‘I’m not staying, I just need a word with—’

  ‘It’s fine. She explained about your aunt.’ Aunt? The woman smiled, lines fanning around her eyes. ‘Good luck!’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Almost panting with relief, I drove slowly after Liv, tyres swishing through puddles. I supposed an aunt was a good cover story, but it meant Liv couldn’t have booked a lodge herself. The ‘aunt’ could be the man who’d called me, tried to warn me about Liv. But it didn’t make sense. Why warn me to be careful and then collude with Liv to kidnap Finn? Maybe she had some sort of hold over him. Unless it wasn’t the man and she was working with someone else.

  Or maybe I’d just wasted two hours on a wild goose chase.

  The site was well lit with solar lamps studded along the borders, the lodges big and well-spaced, with raised verandas and hot tubs. Several were in darkness, unoccupied at this time of year. Liv drove at a snail’s pace, her head turning as if searching for the right place. Each wooden building had a name on a post outside, easy to read as long as you looked carefully.

  I hoped Liv was too busy concentrating to spot me behind her.

  A cold breeze flowed through the open car window, bringing a salty tang. I realised we must be close to the sea. Dom and I had talked about taking Finn to the seaside, back when it was possible to think about the future; before we moved to The Avenue and everything went wrong.

  Pain pulsed behind my eyes. My palms were damp, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. Time seemed to slow. My phone rang on the passenger seat and Dom’s name flashed up. Reaching across, I picked it up.

  ‘Sophy, where the hell—?’

  ‘Have they found Finn?’

  ‘No, but the police are still trying to find Alicia’s sister, so—’

  ‘I don’t think she’s there, Dom, I’m sorry. I don’t trust Alicia, but I don’t think she has Finn.’

  ‘Just come home, Sophy, please.’ His words tore at my heart. ‘Let the police do their job.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dom.’ I swallowed a sob. ‘I have to do this.’

  I rang off as Liv parked at the top of an incline, the outline of a lodge etched against the sky, partially screened by tall trees. Lights were on inside but it was impossible to see anything else from where I was.

  I switched off the engine and headlights, fear swelling like fog as I watched Liv get out of her car and gently close the door.

  Her head whipped round. For a second, I thought she’d seen me and ducked, but when I peered over the dashboard she was walking towards the lodge. She looked furtive, almost creeping up to the door, her movements slower than I’d have expected. Maybe whoever was in there was volatile – capable of violence – and Liv was wary of upsetting them.

  Please don’t hurt my baby.

  I stepped out of the car, feeling jerky and brittle, as if my bones were wood that could easily splinter. A seagull shrieked and I jumped, clamping a hand to my mouth to stop a cry escaping.

  I grabbed Finn’s blanket from the back seat and darted up the slope, past a wooden sign that read Starfish Lodge. My breathing stuttered when I noticed a dark-coloured Volvo Estate parked outside and remembered the car Kim had seen.

  An icy sea wind flayed my skin and squeezed my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I wasn’t wearing a coat and my trainers were soaked as I splashed through puddles, but n
othing mattered except getting into that lodge.

  A sob punched out of my chest as I slipped and almost fell, before dipping behind a tree as I realised Liv was still outside, peering through one of the windows.

  What was she doing?

  She moved into the shadows. There was a pause before a sliver of light broke into the darkness in front of the lodge. She’d opened the door without knocking. Her outline slid inside and the slice of light disappeared.

  Clutching Finn’s blanket like a talisman, I ran up the path and pressed my hand against the door. I pressed my ear to the frame. It was silent inside.

  The wind rustled through the trees and the plaintive cry of seagulls sent icy fingers down my spine. There was a sour taste of bile in my mouth.

  I moved to where Liv had been standing, leaning to peer through the window. She was there, immobile, looking around the small, open-plan living space. There were barely any signs of life, other than a cardigan draped over the back of a chair.

  As if making up her mind, Liv spoke, but I couldn’t make out what she’d said until she repeated it, much louder this time, the word reaching through the cold glass.

  ‘Freya?’

  I didn’t recognise the name.

  ‘Freya!’ Louder this time, Liv’s tone was urgent as she moved through an adjacent door.

  Who was Freya?

  Heart thumping, I ran to the front of the lodge and turned the door handle.

  Chapter 36

  Liv

  ‘Freya!’ I called, hearing the front door open. There was no sign of Finn, but it didn’t mean she hadn’t taken him. The drive had definitely compounded my theory that she must have. She’d called social services. She’d been worried Finn was in danger, just like the child who’d died in her care. I almost felt sorry for her, though I knew if she had Finn I needed to handle her with care.

  But as I dashed from the bedroom, I gasped. It wasn’t Freya.