by A J Waines
Admittedly, she’d been sharp with me, lately. More than that – rough and mean, at times. But shaking a child to death…she seemed so sweet with Mel.
‘You hear about it all the time,’ he said. ‘Often parents of young babies don’t realise how tender the neck muscles are. I remember my father telling me he came across far more cases than he wanted to believe. A baby cries, the adult has had enough and wants it to stop – one shake is sometimes all it takes.’
Chapter 40
‘D’you think Mel is safe?’ I said, chewing my thumbnail, pacing about in Stuart’s kitchen.
What he’d told me had thrown everything up in the air. I thought about how often the baby had been sleeping – and when she was awake, how often she was crying. Was she at risk? ‘I’ve got to go back,’ I said.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I need to talk to Karen – see Mel – make sure she’s okay.’
He got our coats and reluctantly led me back to the Land Rover. Stuart could see I was nervous; I sat during the drive with my head down and my gloved hands squeezed between my thighs.
‘I’ll stay with you from now on,’ he said. ‘I won’t let you out of my sight, I promise.’
I gave him a bleak smile. My mind was racing about all over the place. All I knew for certain was that I was heading back into the lion’s den.
Karen’s car wasn’t there when we came to the top of the track.
‘Looks like she’s gone out,’ I said.
‘At least it gives us time to think about what to do,’ he said. ‘Come on – deep breath.’
‘You’re back,’ she said. It was Karen who let us in. The other two must have taken the car. She didn’t sound pleased, merely stating a fact. ‘I was worried about you,’ she conceded. ‘Thanks Stuart.’ She nodded at him.
‘I’m fine,’ I said churlishly. ‘And I’m not about to do anything out of character.’
Karen laughed and rubbed my back, but I pulled away. I was looking over her shoulder into the kitchen. Mel was sitting in her highchair having breakfast.
I tipped my head so Stuart would get the message to go into the sitting room and I joined Karen in the kitchen.
‘Where are the others?’ I said, scrutinising Mel for any signs of distress. I couldn’t see much of her face under the hat, but she seemed bright and perky.
‘Mark insisted on borrowing my car. I don’t know where he’s gone. Jodie is still in bed.’
Karen tried Mel with a spoonful of porridge, but she threw out her arm and sent it flying over to the fridge. Karen laughed. ‘Okay – enough porridge, eh?’
I remained standing as she brushed past me and shut the door to the hall.
‘You didn’t say goodbye,’ she said flatly.
‘I was going to phone.’
She glanced at the connecting door to the sitting room and brought her voice down to a whisper. ‘What’s going on? I thought we were in this together?’
‘Karen…’ I didn’t know where to start. I closed my eyes briefly and decided to jump right in. ‘I know you were in prison. I know there was no job in Hollywood.’
Her face hardened. ‘How did you find out?’
‘Stuart told me.’
‘Right,’ she said noncommittally. She leant against the fridge and folded her arms.
‘I know what you did,’ I said in a hushed breath.
‘No – you don’t,’ she hissed, her eyes blazing. ‘I lost my baby. I was falsely accused.’
I shook my head in dismay.
‘Let me explain,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’
‘What? Someone else did it?’
‘No – what I mean is – it was never conclusive.’
‘I think you need to explain,’ I said.
‘Sit down,’ she instructed. I stayed standing where I was, but she dropped into the nearest chair.
‘I’m going to get a bit technical, but it’s the easiest way to explain it. When shaken baby syndrome is suspected, pathologists look for three signs – swelling of the brain, bleeding between the skull and the brain, and bleeding in the retina – known collectively as the triad. If all three are present then a conviction is likely.’
‘And that’s what they found in your case?’
‘Yes – but a growing number of doctors believe that relying on the triad alone is no longer enough. During my sentence I did all the research I could. I found out that in a small number of cases, injuries associated with the triad can occur naturally and are not always the result of trauma.’ Her eyes were bright and wild. ‘I’ve got people fighting for me, now.’
‘And no one supported you at the time?’
She shook her head. ‘But these exceptions are so significant that experts now believe that at least half of those brought to trial in the past for this kind of injury have been wrongly convicted.’ Her voice tailed off into a croak. ‘I was too late to get my conviction overturned.’
‘So – you didn’t do it?’
Her head dropped. ‘She was choking on baby food. I was trying to get her to breathe, to get rid of the blockage…’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why all the lies about America?’
She slapped her hand down and laughed. ‘Would you have kept in touch with me if you’d known? Would you have wanted to be associated with…a child-murderer?’
‘I would have wanted to hear your side of the story,’ I insisted. ‘I might even have been able to help.’
‘Thanks – Alice.’ Her expression was sceptical. ‘You only have my word that I was wrongly accused – but everyone – the medical profession, the courts – found me guilty. I’m not sure you would have found it an easy ride.’
‘It would have been nice to have had the choice,’ I said.
‘I’ve got stacks of paperwork at home with all my findings, if you’re interested,’ she said. ‘I should have a PhD in it by now. Ironic, isn't it? You were right. Medicine was going to be my grand illustrious career. I was going to go right to the top, once I’d taken a year out to travel, but I got pregnant…and after that everything fell apart.’ She gave a chilly laugh.
‘Nevertheless, I’ve spent hours scrutinising reports, statistics, other cases. You can see it all – back in Brixton – if you like. My lawyer is filing an appeal for miscarriage of justice at this very moment. I’m determined to clear my name.’ She was back to the old Karen; fiery, single-minded, invincible.
‘What about your parents? Did they stand by you?’
Her hands snapped into fists. ‘Did they hell! They disowned me. Completely.’
I dropped my head. ‘Oh…’
‘It wasn’t just me. I never told you that my brother went off the rails when he was in his teens, did I? He did the total drugs-drink-crime rebellion thing. Serves them right. My dad is a conniving swine. I found out he’s been fleecing his mates out of money for years, reneged on deals, cheated and lied. He uses people.’
I looked at her. Like father, like daughter.
The door opened and Jodie came in looking flustered.
‘You okay?’ said Karen.
She threw herself into a chair. ‘I don’t know. Mark has been so bloody weird, lately. It’s like he can’t stand my company for more than about half an hour, anymore.’
‘Where’s he gone?’ I asked.
‘How the hell would I know?’ she snapped. ‘I mean – what is there that’s urgent – out here? We’re on holiday for fuck’s sake. What’s wrong with him?’
‘Maybe it’s not you that’s the problem,’ said Karen.
‘What do you mean?’ Jodie asked. She snatched the packet of capsules from her bag and threw a tablet into her mouth before taking a long swig of orange juice.
‘Maybe Mel is driving him mad,’ Karen suggested.
Jodie didn’t look convinced. Karen seemed about to speak again – as if she knew something – but then she shrugged. ‘Perhaps he can’t stand being cooped up. Being cut off like this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.’
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‘Yeah, well – he’s driving me mad.’ She laid her head on her folded arms on the table. ‘Any coffee going?’
Karen pointed to the fresh pot on the stove.
‘I don’t want to speak out of turn,’ I said, ‘but is he using too much dope these days, Jodie? Has it got out of hand?’
She shook her head adamantly. ‘He uses the same as he always did – we both do.’
Karen twisted her mouth to one side.
‘There is one thing,’ said Jodie. She propped her head in her hands. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this – but I don’t know what to do. He’s in a lot of debt and I’ve lent him piles of money.’ Her chin started to wobble. ‘It’s getting really bad...’
Karen pulled up the chair next to her and put her arm around her. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said with a sigh.
Jodie buried her face into Karen’s neck and spoke in short bursts between blubs. ‘I’m scared…he’s cleaning me out…I’ve got nothing left…he doesn’t pay me back.’ She looked up in horror. ‘He’s even started stealing from my bag.’
At that moment, the door slammed and there were footsteps in the hall. Mark breezed in as if he was the long-awaited special guest at a party.
‘What’s happening, guys?’ he said.
‘Jodie’s upset,’ Karen said, giving him a stern look.
‘What’s wrong, Babe?’ he crouched down beside her, holding her hand. ‘Is it about losing your mum?’
She pulled away. ‘No, it’s not.’
I left them to it at that point, aware that Stuart had been sitting patiently in the other room.
‘Sorry,’ I said, joining him on the sofa.
‘That sounded melodramatic – are you okay?’
‘Yeah. Did you hear any of it?’
‘I got the gist,’ he whispered. ‘Karen claims she’s innocent.’
‘Come on – let’s get some fresh air,’ I said, pulling him up.
There was sleet in the breeze as we set out. Once again nature couldn’t decide whether to rain, thaw or snow. This apparent indecision matched my confused situation perfectly. We pulled up our hoods and walked in silence against the wind, linking arms, our free hands in our pockets.
‘There’s a brook down this way with a cute humpback bridge,’ he said. ‘Let’s go there. If we get too cold we can come back for the Land Rover.’
I made a brave attempt at a smile and merely followed him. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to believe.
It was the same spot I’d found before. I wanted to sit on the bridge but it was too wet. Stuart pulled a tangle of dead leaves from a branch above him. His thoughts must have been somewhere else, because his next words came out of the blue. ‘Has anything odd happened at the cottage?’
My stomach lurched to one side. I had to be selective about what I told him. I hated it; having to hide information from him about his own nephew, but I could see no alternative. Karen was right. How would Stuart react if he found out we’d covered up Charlie’s death and dropped his body in the lake?
My mind leapt to the police divers. I’d heard nothing on the local news about the search. Surely, they’d have given up looking by now. Or maybe they’d found him and were still trying to identify the body, before releasing any information.
Whatever the outcome, I still couldn’t believe I’d gone along with it – Karen had been so clever making me doubt myself – making me think it could have been me who killed him. She made it look like she was doing me a favour, when really it was the other way round.
‘I found ten thousand pounds,’ I said. ‘It was in Mark’s room and then it disappeared.’
He whistled. ‘What’s that all about?’
‘I’ve no idea. It went soon after I discovered it. Maybe you heard Jodie say just now, that Mark was heavily in debt.’
He frowned.
‘Do you think it could be connected to the boy who was abducted?’ I said, not looking at him.
‘According to the police, the boy was handed over to someone in a car near Craigleven on Monday evening,’ he said. ‘Where was Mark at around nine-fifteen that night?’
I thought about it. ‘Mark and Jodie had taken Karen’s car sometime after eight o’clock…’ I scanned my memories. ‘Karen was with me at the cottage. She went to bed early, before you picked me up to go for a drink, at around nine-thirty.’
‘So Mark and Jodie were out at nine-fifteen?’
‘Yeah…they said they went to a pub…although I didn’t see them at The Cart and Horses.’
‘Do you think Mark could have been hiding the boy somewhere?’
‘Bloody hell…’ I exhaled loudly at the idea of it. ‘I can’t believe Jodie would go along with something like that,’ I said, running my finger in the snow along the edge of the bridge, ‘but Mark does keep finding any excuse to leave the cottage.’
‘Maybe Jodie doesn’t know,’ he suggested.
It wouldn’t be the first time Mark had kept secrets from her, I mused.
The air was thick with a number of things that didn’t add up. ‘What about Karen?’ he said. ‘Now you know about her past, has anything struck you as suspicious?’
‘She’s barely left the cottage since we’ve been here – apart from going to the hospital – she’s been too busy with Mel.’
‘And the child’s been fine?’
I frowned. ‘Karen’s been giving her sedatives, but she said the doctors prescribed them as part of her recovery.’
An unwelcome thought caught me unawares. ‘There is another thing. Karen grabbed me and…’
‘And what?’
‘Well – she took hold of me by my arms – she was cross about something – and shook me pretty hard, as it happens.’
‘She shook you?’
‘It doesn’t mean—’
I could see him chewing the inside of his cheek. ‘I’m not going to leave you alone with her,’ he said.
Supper was uneventful. Stuart and I didn’t betray Karen’s Holloway secret. Mark barely said a word, Jodie spent the entire time snuffling into a tissue and Karen kept up some semblance of appearances by asking Stuart questions about Edinburgh University.
I saw glimmers of the old Karen – the one who could make a person feel special and important – but my sense of wonder only lasted a few minutes. More than anything, I felt sad. I’d lost her for good. We wouldn’t be keeping in touch after this holiday. I didn’t know who she was anymore and what I did see of her no longer held any allure. I gripped Stuart’s hand under the table. He was the one I wanted in my future.
We all helped out with the dishes, making small talk about the weather, then Mark and Jodie sloped off to bed. Karen made herself a hot drink and followed them.
Stuart said he’d stay the night and tried the sofa for size.
‘Are you sure about this?’ I asked. ‘I’m not sure it’s going to be all that comfy.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he said. He’d offered to sleep on the floor in my room, but the thought of him lying on the same spot as Charlie – his own flesh and blood – was just too gruesome.
I brought two blankets down to the sitting room from my chest of drawers. I opened them out. They were musty, infused with the camphor smell of mothballs.
‘Will you be warm enough?’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I can pull this over me if I’m chilly.’ He’d hung his wax jacket over the back of a chair.
‘We should plan what we’re going to do tomorrow,’ I said, my fingers fiddling with my lip.
‘The police will have checked us all out on their national records after they interviewed us, so they‘ll know about Karen’s conviction. At the moment Melanie seems fine – do you agree?’ I nodded.
He went on, ‘Did the officers say anything in particular when they came over the day after Brody went missing?’
I backtracked to their visit. ‘Karen went upstairs with them – do you remember? So they could see Mel. They were up there a few minutes check
ing her over and taking a look around. I don’t think the officers said anything when they came down.’
‘Maybe there were being discrete – she’s served her sentence after all. It’s not their place to tell everyone about her criminal history. It will be Social Services’ job to keep an eye on the child – they should be aware of everything.’
‘We should ask Karen about that tomorrow,’ I said. ‘She ought to be having visits from them. Perhaps we should contact them ourselves, to be sure?’
‘Good idea.’
He looked down at his feet, that familiar searching look in his eyes.
‘What about your nephew?’ I asked tentatively, feeling like the worst possible Judas, but it would have seemed odd not to ask.
‘Jim has completely lost him again. There’s no trace of him anywhere. Probably best I let him go – stop the search. If Charlie is involved in the boy’s abduction the police will track him down. I don’t want to go back to Tony having played a part in that kind of news.’
He stroked my hand. ‘I’ll go back to Edinburgh. You could come with me for a few days.’
‘I’d love to,’ I said. He pulled me to him and held me firmly. We were locked together, solid, like a sculpture made from one piece of stone and I didn’t want to let go.
‘So – we’ll leave tomorrow, shall we?’ I asked, cheek to cheek.
‘Let’s make sure Melanie is safe and Social Services are fully aware of the situation. Then – yes – let’s go to Edinburgh and get you to a doctor to see about these headaches.’
‘Oh – okay.’ I was getting used to them by now; they’d become a natural part of every day.
‘My father knows people – we can get you looked over, before you get proper tests done in London.’
‘Thank you – that would be good.’
‘Sleep well,’ he said, before giving me a tender kiss. ‘See you in the morning.’ He said, tweaking my nose like my grandfather used to do. ‘Mine’s a strong black coffee by the way.’
I had to force myself to break away. I wanted nothing more than to spend the night with him in one long embrace, but it wasn’t the right time or place.