“Now, come on. We don’t know it’ll come to that. You’re just getting yourself in a state over nothing.”
“How can you say it’s nothing? If Adam’s bosses find out, he could lose his job.”
“You know what I mean. Nobody’s been told yet, except Adam. Adam thinks there’s a good chance Muldoon won’t tell anybody else. You’ve got to hope he’s right. But getting worked up about it won’t help anybody.”
“I know you’re right. I just can’t help it. The more I try to protect poor Mary, the more trouble seems to be thrown her way.”
“She’s tougher than she looks that one. She’ll be alright, whatever comes of this.”
“I hope you’re right. She asked me the other day if I was her mum and I lied to her face. If she finds out, she’ll never trust me again.”
“But, like Adam said, you’d have to say you didn’t know. As far as you know, Mary is Andrew’s daughter. Say it.”
“Mary is Andrew’s daughter.”
“Good girl. It’s important you stick to that version. You’ve too much to lose otherwise.
Chapter 36
Adam arrived at HQ with plenty of time to spare, but the DCI was running late. He gave an exaggerated sigh and sat outside the office to wait.
Over twenty minutes later, DCI Williamson rushed out of the lift carrying his briefcase and jacket. When he spotted Adam, he looked at his watch and hurried into his office.
“Come on in, Stanley. I’ve got another meeting in ten minutes, so we’ll need to be quick.”
Suits me, Adam thought. He always felt like a naughty schoolboy being called to the headmaster’s office when the DCI summoned him.
Once they were both seated, Adam launched into a detailed report of the last couple of days.
DCI Williamson held his hand up stopping Adam mid-sentence. “Interesting as this all sounds, Stanley, I didn’t get you here to discuss the case.”
“You haven’t? Then why am I here?”
He opened the top drawer beside him and brought out an envelope identical to the ones he and Sally had received. Adam’s stomach dropped to his boots.
“When I arrived this morning, I found this on my desk.” He plopped the envelope down in front of Adam.
Adam reached for it trying to keep his hands from shaking. His boss watched him closely while he pulled the papers out. They were identical to the ones he’d received that morning.
“What the hell?” Adam said, frowning as he gave an Oscar-winning performance.
“Exactly my reaction when I first read it. But looking into the case, I discovered a child called Bella Sullivan was indeed abducted aged three years old. Her parents adopted her as a newborn. A couple of days after your wife gave birth to her baby, in fact.”
Adam wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and battled with what his next move would be. Come clean, or lie through his teeth?
“But you know this, don’t you, Stanley?”
“Erm...” He shook his head. “I don’t...”
“Oh, sure you do. Your wife must’ve told you that Mary’s her firstborn child.”
Adam sat upright in his chair. “I’m sorry, sir. But this is the first I’ve heard about it. As far as Amanda and I are aware, Mary is her brother’s child. Her mother, Judith, died of acute MS.”
“There is no record of Judith Pitt ever giving birth. And in any case, Mary was five years old when Andrew met her.”
“News to me, sir. I’m astonished, to be honest. Who sent this information to you?”
“I haven’t a clue. But unfortunately I’m going to have to pass it on to the authorities to investigate.” He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get to my next meeting.”
Dazed, Adam also got to his feet. “Where does this nonsense leave Mary?”
“I’d say that’s something you’ll need to take up with the social workers. I’ve given you a heads up, so I advise you to use the information wisely. But, in my opinion, you may be best to explain everything to Mary, just in case. Otherwise I’m sure this will come as one hell of a shock to her.”
“As it has to me, sir.” He left the office and calmly walked to the lift. Once on the ground floor he ran to the car as though his arse was on fire and pulled out his phone. He dialled his home number.
“Amanda, you’re never gonna guess what’s happened.”
“What?” She sounded irate and close to snapping.
“The bastard’s only sent the stuff about Mary to the DCI. I’m sorry, babe, but he’s passing it over to the authorities.”
***
“What the hell does that mean?” Amanda had an instant urge to vomit.
Sitting at the dining table, Emma and Jacob giggled at her bad language. She slammed down their colouring books and crayons. They’d just arrived back from the school run. Mary had stayed behind to help with the after school club. Her friend’s mother promised to drop her off later.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Adam said. “I suppose they’ll delve into Mary’s birth certificate details and try to trace her supposed natural mother in France.”
Sandra came downstairs from the bathroom, a frown fixed on her face.
Amanda sighed. “But there is no such person.”
“I know that, and, when they find that out, the shit will well and truly hit the fan.”
“Will they take her away from us? Because they can’t! I’m still her only living relative, whichever way they look at it, unless you count our useless mother.” Tears fell from her eyes, and she turned away from the kids.
Sandra jumped in and distracted them while Amanda headed for the lounge.
“Don’t fret, Mand. I’m sure everything will work out in the end. It’s not as if we’ve done anything wrong, is it?”
“But what about Mary?”
“They will want to do a DNA test soon, no doubt. You need to accept this is going to come out. And Mary will cope. She’s a tough cookie. You’ll see.”
“Can we tell her soon? I’d rather she hears the truth from us.”
“We’ll tell her together, later.”
As Amanda hung up, a griping pain in her stomach made her double over. She sucked the air in over her teeth as she rubbed the base of her bump.
After a couple of minutes, she wiped her eyes and joined the others.
Sandra eyeballed her questioningly when she entered.
She glanced at the kids busily colouring at the table and, with a nod of her head, indicated Sandra follow her to the kitchen sink.
“What’s wrong?”
“Adam’s DCI knows about Mary.”
Sandra covered her mouth with her hand.
“Like you said earlier, we’ve all got to act dumb. But, would you lie if they question you?”
“Of course, I’ll lie. You know I don’t condone lying, but in this case there’s no other option.”
Amanda winced as another griping pain ripped through her.
“What is it, love? What’s wrong?”
“Just a twinge. Baby must be pressing on a nerve.”
“Go and put your feet up.”
Amanda made as though to protest, but Sandra shot her down before she had a chance.
“You were up half the night worrying about Adam. You know I love looking after you all.”
Amanda nodded and headed back to the door. “I’ll just snatch ten minutes rest until this twinge goes away. I feel quite breathless.”
“Shall I run you a bath? It may help relieve the discomfort, and warm water is supposed to aid in repositioning unborn babies.”
“You know, I’d love a nice soak in the tub, but I’ll run it. Thanks, Sandra.”
She waddled upstairs cradling the underside of the bump. The baby was pressing down hard into her pelvis.
She turned the taps on, tossed in a vanilla scented bath bomb, and waited for the bath to fill before stripping off her blouse, leggings and underwear.
Stepping into the
fragrant water, she suddenly groaned and leaned heavily on the side of the tub as the pain grumbled across her stomach again. She’d had Braxton Hicks contractions with each of her other babies, but she couldn’t remember them being so intense.
Once the pain subsided, she sank into the yummy smelling foam and closed her eyes. Savouring the warmth as the water filled her ears, she took a deep breath and ducked her head underneath, shutting out the world for a few seconds.
Moments later, she sat up straight and put her hand on her stomach, as another wave of pain approached. The whole bump tightened under her fingers and the intensity stopped her from breathing. They were getting worse. Something felt wrong.
Amanda quickly washed herself and got to her feet. As she reached for a towel, a sudden rush of water ran down her legs. She gasped and looked into the tub to check if it was just bath water, but the foam concealed all trace.
After patting herself dry, she headed to her bedroom and threw on a smock dress. She wadded a towel up in her underwear because fluid leaked from her with every step. After running a brush through her wet hair, she plodded down the stairs.
Sandra looked up from the table where the children were feasting on sausage and mash.
“My waters just broke!”
“Shoot! I’ll call Adam.”
Chapter 37
As Adam took the slip-road off the motorway heading for Pinevale, his phone rang.
“You need to come quick,” Sandra said, in a panicked voice. “Amanda’s in labour.”
“She can’t be. She’s not due for weeks yet.”
“Tell that to the little one when he gets here. Hurry.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
He hung up and slammed his hands on the steering wheel. Fuming, he blamed Amanda’s premature labour on Miles-fucking-Muldoon. He’d get the crazy bastard off the street if it was the last thing he did.
Amanda walked down the path towards him as he pulled up.
As he got out, she suddenly doubled up and winced. He waited a few moments until the contraction passed, before helping her into the car.
“Here, put this on the seat,” Sandra said, running ahead of them with a towel.
“Thanks, Sandra.” Amanda panted. “Can you ring the hospital? Warn them we’re coming.”
“Of course.” She turned to Adam. “Call me as soon as you know anything.”
He nodded. “I will.”
“Oh, and Mary should be home soon,” Amanda called before closing her door.
“Don’t worry about the kiddies. Just go.” Sandra waved them off.
“I’m scared, Adam,” Amanda said, as they turned the corner. “The baby’s not due for another six weeks. What if...”
“Don’t stress, Mand. They perform miracles these days.”
Her hand shot out and gripped the fabric on his arm as another contraction washed over her.
Trying to keep calm, he blew out steadily controlled breath. He couldn’t allow her to see how shit-scared he was.
He parked in a disabled space right at the hospital entrance and practically carried his wife inside.
Once Amanda was transferred to a bed, a young, brunette midwife strapped a baby monitor to her stomach and they all exhaled with relief when a steady thudding sounded from the speakers.
“Will he be okay?” Amanda asked.
“He’s a little early, but he sounds nice and strong.”
The examination of Amanda’s cervix showed her to be seven centimetres dilated.
“Won’t be long now, Mummy. He’s an impatient little thing. I’ll arrange for some Entronox.”
“Entronox?” Amanda was confused.
“It’s also known as gas and air. I’m sure you would have been offered it with your last children.”
She nodded. “Yes. I wanted Pethidine too, but is there time?”
“Maybe not. Pethidine takes around thirty minutes to work, and baby is likely to arrive before then.”
Amanda, clearly in pain, looked at Adam. She reached for his hand as another contraction began.
Adam held onto her and turned to the midwife for guidance.
“I’ll get the gas, but start to pant through the contraction. It will help,” she said.
Adam put one knee on the chair by the bed and crouched down next to his wife. “You can do it. Pant, baby. Pant.” He began puffing out his breath in short bursts.
Each contraction seemed to double in intensity, and within twenty minutes Amanda was ready to push.
Adam stayed by her side feeling totally helpless.
Amanda’s screams escalated within minutes. She dug her nails into his hand and held on with a vice grip, bringing tears to his eyes. She asked him to wipe her face with a face-cloth, then ripped the cloth from his fingers and launched it across the room.
His beautiful wife resembled someone possessed, and yet the midwife didn’t bat an eyelid.
When they lifted the tiny dark-haired baby, he couldn’t believe the range of emotions that coursed through him.
“It’s a boy,” the midwife said, tears glinting in her smiling eyes.
“You’ve done it, Mand. We’ve got a little boy.”
She began to cry.
Adam cradled her head in his arms as the midwife whisked their baby away to the far side of the room.
He thought his heart would break while they waited for him to make a sound. When the first cry erupted, tears streamed down his face. He kissed Amanda tenderly.
The midwife wrapped the baby in a blanket and placed him in a Perspex crib. Another nurse wheeled the crib away.
“Where are they taking him?” he asked the midwife.
“Baby’s lungs aren’t properly developed yet, and he’s very little, just four-and-a-half pounds. They’re taking him to the Neonatal Unit to be on the safe side.”
***
I pace the floor wishing I could be out there witnessing the wrath my cleverly placed correspondence must have caused. But I need to stay home for now.
The bang of a car door outside startles me, and I rush to the window more on edge than usual. I peer out into the darkness, and by the illumination of a streetlight I watch a man in a green, knitted jersey tuck a file under his arm and walk up the neighbour’s path.
“Idiot,” I mutter.
My stomach growls and I realise I haven’t eaten a thing all day. I trudge through to the kitchen checking out the contents of the fridge before slamming the door in temper.
I settle on a can of baked beans and shove four slices of stale bread in the toaster. Pulling out two plates, one ceramic and one plastic, I proceed to prepare my speciality—beans on toast.
I take the plastic plate downstairs into the basement. Heading to the back of the room, I put the plate down while I open the hatch in the centre of another door. This room had been used in the past as a music studio, but evidence of that time is long gone.
“Grub’s up,” I say, sliding the plate inside the opening.
I hear shuffling sounds from within the room, and I slam the hatch closed before heading back upstairs.
As I step into the hallway, Dana Morgan, the fucking nosy nurse, is hanging around in the kitchen doorway. I hadn’t even heard her arrive.
Her eyes dart from me to the basement door suspiciously.
“What do you want, Dana? I’m busy.”
“Nothing.” She shoves past me and struts through the door opposite.
I eat my food with gusto. Although nervous, I’m excited by what I plan to do later on this evening.
As I wash up the dishes and make a pot of tea, a thought occurs to me, and I smile. Taking a china cup and saucer from the glass cabinet, I fill it with the weak brew, topping it off with a drop of milk and carry it through the door Dana had vanished through.
“Knock, knock,” I say, walking straight in. “I made you a cup of tea. Don’t say I never give you anything.”
The fat nurse jumps to her feet and takes the cup from me. “Oh, lovely. Th
anks.”
“How’s the patient?” I ask.
“Sleeping deeply. Has he been like this all day?” Dana says.
“Yes. But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I ask, bending over the supine body of my father. “At least he’s not in any pain, if he’s sleeping.”
“Exactly.”
I kiss his warm, leathery cheek. “Hey, Daddy. It’s me, Sally. Are you awake?
***
Adam arrived home to an empty house.
A scribbled note from Sandra, saying she’d taken the kids to her house and asking him to call when he got in, was propped up beside a plate of spaghetti bolognese on the kitchen table.
He nuked the food, took it through to the lounge, and ate in front of the TV. He felt exhausted, emotional, and fucking angry at Muldoon. If anything happened to his baby, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions when they caught the cocky bastard.
He’d left Amanda sleeping soundly in the hospital after spending a couple of hours beside the incubator watching the rise and fall of their baby boy’s chest. The nurses said he had a good chance, only needing special care until his lungs were stronger.
He glanced at his watch, almost 11.00pm. Too late to call Sandra. He would have an early night and speak to her in the morning.
He kicked off his shoes and put his feet up, pulling a blanket off the back of the sofa. He would stay where he was for now.
Chapter 38
I glance at Dana, sipping on her tea like a fucking queen bee, and I smile. My fingertips stroke the outline of the blade through the material of my trousers and I walk around the bed, stopping just behind the nosy nurse. Once out of sight, I slide the knife from my pocket and hold it behind my back.
Dana drains her cup and leans forward to place it on the table beside her.
"Here. I'll take that," I say, brightly.
She turns, holding the crockery out to me, and her smile freezes as her eyes rest on the knife.
"And you can take this."
With one fluid movement, the blade tears through the soft double-chin, going deep, all the way to the handle.
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