“I think you were in one of my art classes, weren’t you? The apple made of barbed wire.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a sarcastic smile. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Yeah, that was my A-level project and you gave me a C for it. Pretty stingy if you ask me. That bastard scratched my arms to pieces.”
“Well, it was a little clichéd,” replied Jake, pushing his glasses further up his nose.
Rob shook his head and said nothing. I pursed my lips together. I could understand why Jake would feel put out by the way I’d hugged Rob when he entered the room, but he had to understand how difficult this situation was. Bringing up events from years ago that didn’t even matter was just petty.
“We need to take Aiden into the x-ray unit now, and I think it’s best that just one person comes in with him.”
“I’ll go,” I said, stepping forward.
“Actually, I was thinking Mr Hartley would be a good choice this time. We would prefer to keep any harmful rays away from pregnant women, and it would be good for Aiden to spend a little time with his father.” Dr Schaffer offered a small, half-apologetic smile.
“Is that okay, Em?” Rob said.
The familiarity of him calling me Em gave me a little jolt of surprise. “Of course.” I bent down lower to talk to Aiden. “I’ll be right out here, waiting for you. Dad will be with you, though. You’re going to do just fine.”
I couldn’t stop talking to him as if he was still six. He was a teenager. Sixteen years old. He could legally have sex; he could legally be a father and be married. The thought made me feel sick.
“He doesn’t like to be touched, Rob. Stay close to him though, all right? I want you to stay close to him so he knows he’s loved.”
Rob nodded as he followed the doctor and my son through the double doors. I wanted to melt onto the hospital floor.
“Come on,” said Jake. “We’ll get a cup of tea and sit down.”
I wanted to shout at Jake for what he had said to Rob, but instead I let him lead me away with his hand on the small of my back. Perhaps I was too tired to argue. Perhaps I needed someone to lead me, to tell me what to do. I didn’t have the brain power to do it myself. All my thoughts were consumed by that blank expression on Aiden’s face.
9
It would be easier to say that I was so focussed on Aiden coming back, and the things he had been through, that I barely noticed Rob’s reintroduction into my life, but that would be a lie. Rob’s presence affected me more than I was willing to admit at the time. For one thing, seeing him brought me some comfort. At one time, Rob’s resemblance to Aiden had brought me nothing but pain, and it was one of the reasons why he left in the first place. But now I looked at him and saw what I hoped Aiden could one day be: confident, amiable, and overall, kind.
Yes, Rob had gone through a rebellious phase, and no, he was not the kind of boyfriend you took home to your parents, but Rob had something of the artist in him. The rest was Viking. He had a hot temper and would have been at home with the fighting and fucking of that ancient society, but deep down he had a sensitive nature and a strong sense of loyalty. He was a protective presence in my life. At least, he had been, until Aiden disappeared.
We saw Aiden in each other and it drove us both mad. I felt like half a person after I thought Aiden had drowned in the flood, and I imagine Rob felt the same. We should have made each other whole by joining our broken selves together. But for whatever reason it didn’t work like that. We only reminded each other of what we had lost and eventually we had to part. Couples who lose a child often separate. We were one of those couples.
But now our child had come back. What did that mean for us?
Those were the thoughts running through my mind as I waited with Jake, my husband, for Aiden’s tests to be finished. When Jake passed me a cup of weak tea, I forced myself to stop thinking about Rob and concentrate on the man before me, the man whose daughter was in my womb, who had fixed me when I was broken, rather than running away. He was the man I should be thinking about. He was the man who should make my heart skip a beat.
“I can’t wait until this is all over and we can bring Aiden home,” I said, sipping on my tea. I flinched as it burned my tongue, and blew softly over the liquid.
Jake had brought me to the hospital canteen. I felt guilty being so far from Aiden, but was glad to be away from those stark corridors. We sat at a wobbly table and watched as visitors bought cups of coffee for their elderly relatives. A woman desperately tried to soothe her screaming baby, red-faced from embarrassment.
“Is that wise?” Jake crossed his legs and smoothed the fabric of his trousers. “At least straight away. We don’t know what kind of psychological harm Aiden has suffered. Are we really equipped to deal with it?”
I stared at Jake, unable to find the words I needed to convey how ridiculous I found that notion. I was his mother; I was all he needed. I must have been frowning or glaring, because Jake stuttered as he attempted to explain further.
“What I mean is… Aiden is… well, he’s going to need a lot of specialist care, and we need to be careful that we give him what he requires to get better. There’s a reason why he’s still in shock and still won’t speak about what happened to him. Let’s just not rush things. Let’s make sure we listen carefully to the experts. I mean, it might not even be safe to bring him home, especially as you’ll be having the baby soon.”
“You think Aiden is dangerous?” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to piece Jake’s words together in my fogged state of exhaustion. “He’s not dangerous.”
Jake reached across the table and took my hand. “Sweetheart. Think for a minute. You haven’t seen Aiden for a decade. A decade, Emma. He isn’t the sweet six-year-old boy you remember. He’s almost a fully grown man. We know nothing about him.”
Gently, I slid my hand out from his. Was there any truth in what he was saying? Could Aiden really be dangerous? When I saw him sitting there in that hospital bed, all I could think about was the boy in the red anorak who kissed me goodbye in the school carpark. Maybe Jake was right. I didn’t know him, not anymore.
“Okay, we won’t rush things,” I said. “But I really want Aiden to come home with us. He deserves to be part of a family. He’s my son, Jake. He’s my boy. I let him down and he’s lived in hell for ten years. I need to make sure he has a healthy, happy home now. And that means he’s your son too and you need to act like you’re his father.”
Jake retracted his hand sharply and frowned. “You don’t think I’m acting like that already? I’m just trying to look out for him.”
“I didn’t… I mean… of course—”
“You don’t think I’m prepared to be a dad for him? I am, Emma, I am.” His cheeks flushed and the volume of his voice started to rise, which surprised me because Jake was generally such a soft-spoken man. “I mean for God’s sake, Emma, not many men would deal with this so well. Your teenage son just came back from the dead.” As his agitation grew, I sat there with my mouth flapping open and shut. “Everything was perfect. We have the baby on the way, the house is pristine, ready for the new arrival. You have your job. I had the promotion to head of the art department. Everything was perfect.” He lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“Hey.” I stood, moved towards him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “It’s still going to be perfect. So our family is a bit bigger than we expected; that’s okay, right? Aiden is going to make things even better. Bump has a big brother!” I rubbed his shoulders, finally realising that this hadn’t just been a huge strain on me, it had been a huge strain on him, too. Of course it had. I couldn’t begrudge him some adjustment time.
Jake’s hands spread up and over my arms, pulling them around his body so I was hugging him and he was clutching me tightly. “As long as you’re mine, I don’t care about everything else.” He kissed my hands. My belly pressed against the back of the chair, and I felt Bump move again. The pressure of her small feet made me ache, and I let ou
t a moan of discomfort.
“Seems like Bump would agree with you,” I laughed.
I had to pull myself out of Jake’s grip to move away. I barely caught the expression on his face as I went back to the other side of the table. He seemed to be half-frowning, and I longed to look into his mind to know what he was thinking. I imagined his thoughts as dark, terrifying and cold, isolated from the world, like a lonely boy bracing himself against the freezing cold wind on a snowy mountain top.
“How long is Rob staying?” he asked. “He’ll have to go back to the army soon, right?”
I eased myself back into my chair. “I don’t know. He needs to get to know Aiden again, so… However long it takes.”
Jake’s fingers drummed the surface of the table. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Aiden has been through hell for ten years. Then he comes back, he gets to know his dad again, and then…” He lifted his arms in the air in an over-exaggerated shrug. “He’s gone. Back to the army or whatever whim makes him leave again.”
“Rob wouldn’t leave on a whim.”
“He did last time.”
“That was…” I frowned. Was it more than a whim? Rob had never expressed any desire to join the army before Aiden’s disappearance. Before then he’d bummed around, either working in his parents’ B&B or taking up bricklaying work with local builders.
“What? Different? Yes, it was, because you had lost a son and he abandoned you when you were at your most vulnerable. You know, sometimes I think you have a short memory because you’ve forgotten how bad it got.”
“I haven’t forgotten, trust me.” I couldn’t help it; my eyes dropped from his gaze and I tried not to think about that time. I stared hopelessly at my tea, wishing the memories away, wishing they’d slip into a black hole.
“I picked up those pieces, Emma.”
“I know.”
“It’s not something I regret. Having you in my life has been the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I mean it. I really do.”
“But it’s not just me anymore,” I said. “I come with baggage. I come with a son who is back from the dead. That’s just how my life is.” I felt a manic giggle rise up, threatening to spill out, but I managed to keep myself under control. I glanced across at two elderly women stirring their tea. This wasn’t the time or the place to lose it.
He sighed and reached across the table to take my hands. “I love you, more than anything. You, the baby, and now Aiden, are my family, and no one hurts my family.”
10
Aiden stepped out of the x-ray unit with the same blank expression as before. I don’t know what I’d been hoping for. Tears? A big, silly grin? Giggles? I glanced from him to Rob and saw his grim expression.
“How’s my brave boy?” I asked, hating the way my voice sounded far too cheerful, far too forced. Far too patronising. I rubbed one hand with the other, alternating between the two: a nervous habit I picked up after Aiden disappeared.
“He did very well,” answered Dr Schaffer.
But when Rob wouldn’t meet my eyes, my stomach flipped over with nerves. There was a moment of silence as we stood in a crowd in the sterile hospital corridor. I hated this silence. I just wanted to hear my son speak, and though I was trying my best to remain patient, I could already feel the frustration bubbling up inside me, like a pan simmering away.
“We’re taking him back to his room to get comfy and then we’ll have another chat,” said the doctor, his tone inciting a creeping sense of dread to spread over my skin.
After Aiden was settled into his room, Dr Schaffer took us back into the corridor and explained the results of the x-ray in his matter-of-fact and professional doctor’s voice.
“The results confirmed what I expected. There’s an old fracture line in the ankle, at the lateral malleolus. But that break has healed well. I think he may have received treatment for it, in fact.”
“He was taken to a hospital?” I asked.
“It’s difficult to tell without seeing the original injury. Aiden may have been treated privately by the person who took him. I wouldn’t like to say for sure.”
“What does that mean for him, in terms of the future?” I asked.
“He may experience some stiffness in his ankle. He might have a slight limp.”
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying not to think of Aiden trapped in some cage, chained like a dog, in pain from the break in his ankle. Did he do it trying to escape? Did his kidnapper hurt him? Did the kidnapper give him any painkillers? I wanted to disconnect the traumatised boy in the hospital room from the little baby I gave birth to and nurtured, but I couldn’t.
“Was there anything else?” I asked. “Are there any more breaks?” Did he beat him? Was my little boy raped and beaten over and over again?
“No,” Dr Schaffer said. “I know that doesn’t sound like good news given the circumstances but I really think it is. The ankle break seems to be the most significant evidence of injury.”
So he wasn’t beaten, at least not to the point of broken bones. That didn’t rule out bruises. His kidnapper still could have pushed his thumbs into my son’s tender flesh, hurting him until he screamed. That could still have happened, let’s not forget that. I was living in a reality where news that my son only suffered one broken bone at the mercy of a sadistic kidnapper was good news.
Dr Schaffer informed us that the child psychologist would be meeting with us after Aiden had a rest before leaving us waiting outside the room in the corridor.
“What happened in there, Rob?” I asked as soon as the doctor was out of hearing range.
“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “Absolutely nothing. Aiden didn’t say a word. He didn’t react. He sort of flinched a bit when they touched him but there was nothing—no tears, no screams.” He clenched his jaw and pressed his fist against the wall of the corridor. “I can’t fucking believe all this. Someone chained up my son and left him there with his ankle busted. Fucking…”
A nurse walked past and raised her eyebrow at Rob, who was still pushing his knuckles against the wall. I flashed her a quick smile and placed my hand on Rob’s shoulder.
“Hey,” I said. “You can’t lose it. Not here. We’re all dealing with this. Stay strong for Aiden.”
Rob sighed and rested his forehead against the wall. He was always someone who reacted in big, dramatic ways, though this time it didn’t feel over-dramatic. There wasn’t an over-dramatic way to deal with the events of the last two days.
“Sorry, I…”
“I know.” I rubbed his shoulder a little, trying to ignore the way Jake was watching me. “Small steps. We’re here for Aiden. He’ll come round, Rob, I know he will. He won’t stay like this forever.” But after saying those words I tried to swallow and my throat was bone dry. My eyes stung and I was tired all over. I was too exhausted to believe it.
*
DCI Stevenson arrived at the hospital in the afternoon wearing the stone-faced expression of a man carrying bad news.
“The vultures are circling. Reporters have caught wind of the search going on through the woods. It’s only a matter of time before they sniff out the witnesses’ report of seeing Aiden. We’ve told them not to talk to anyone, but these things always come out.”
“Did you find anything in the woods?” I didn’t care about the press, I just wanted justice for Aiden.
Stevenson shook his head. “It was pouring down the night Aiden stumbled out onto the road. His tracks are gone. We’ve tried sniffer dogs using the clothes he was wearing, but they lost the trail pretty quickly. I’ve got a sizeable force out combing the forest for clues. We will find something, but it might take longer than we’d hoped.”
“The fucking press,” Jake muttered. “If they get hold of this it’ll be on every national newspaper. It’s going to be a nightmare. Is there nothing you can do?”
Stevenson shook his head. “These stories al
ways come out. Aiden’s drowning was a big story ten years ago. This is going to be even bigger. I know you’ve been put through hell and back over the last decade, and I hate to say this, but you need to brace yourself. This is going to be tough.”
No one spoke for at least thirty seconds. I think we were all contemplating—in our own ways—how our world was going to change once the press caught onto the story of Aiden’s reappearance. It was probably our last day of having Aiden to ourselves without the media hounding us every hour of the day. We spent it sat in his hospital room, staying close as he impassively allowed the doctors and nurses to prod and poke him. At one point I dared to hold his hand as they drew blood, forcing myself not to flinch as the needle pierced his skin. He had been through worse, and I hadn’t been there to hold his hand during those horrific times.
The child psychologist was a woman in her forties with flowing clothes—a long, purple skirt, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and clumpy clog-like shoes. Though her appearance wasn’t particularly professional, she did have a comforting presence, like everyone’s favourite aunty. She spoke softly, clearly, and gently.
“Hello, Aiden. My name is Cathy, and I’m here to ask you a few questions and see how you’re doing. Is that all right?”
Aiden remained silent.
“Did… did, um, Dr Schaffer warn you about Aiden’s present state?” I asked.
Cathy—who had introduced herself to me as Dr Foster—nodded and smiled. “He did. That’s okay. We’ll take our time with Aiden.” She turned back to him. I’d bought Aiden some new clothes that morning, so he was wearing a pair of jeans with a plain blue jumper. I had wanted to buy him something trendy, something a normal teenager would like, but I didn’t know what a sixteen-year-old boy would want to wear. When I was sixteen I wore nothing but black. My dad would balk at the length of my skirt or the coating of eye-liner around my eyes, and Mum would just roll her eyes. Somehow I didn’t think Aiden was interested in rebelling against me just yet.
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