by Susan Lewis
Ottilie shook her head and looked so desperate that Alex wasn’t sure what to do. ‘Oh, sweetheart, I know it’s hard,’ she said tenderly, ‘but truly you’re going to fit in just fine here, and you needn’t be afraid to speak, because you can hear everyone else chatting, can’t you? Chat, chat, chat, chat. They never stop. You can do that too, can’t you?’
Ottilie buried her face in Boots.
It was when Alex realised she was crying that she accepted she really didn’t have the heart to leave her yet even if it was the right thing to do, and she wasn’t convinced that it was. She didn’t come from a secure background, like other children, so making her feel confident was going to take extra effort and time. ‘I think, just for today, I ought to stay,’ she explained to Janet when she came to check on them. She could always reschedule her afternoon visits and work on into the evening to make up for the couple of hours she was going to spend here.
‘No problem,’ Janet assured her. ‘Everyone’s welcome, aren’t they?’ she said to Ottilie.
‘I just need to make some calls,’ Alex said. ‘Will you wait here while I do that?’ she asked Ottilie.
As Ottilie kept hold of her hand Alex looked down at her face and felt such a wrench in her heart that she almost picked Ottilie up to take her with her. ‘I won’t be long,’ she promised. ‘You just sit there like a good girl and before you know it I’ll be right back.’
To her relief Janet knelt down beside Ottilie, and spotting Chloe coming carefully towards them balancing some squash and cake on a book-sized tray, Janet said, ‘Oh now look, isn’t that kind of Chloe to fetch you a snack? You’re a little angel, Chloe, you really are, but don’t forget to get some for yourself.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t,’ Chloe assured her, and stooping towards Ottilie she offered her the beaker and plate.
Slipping her hand out of Alex’s, Ottilie kept hold of Boots as she took the plate.
‘Can you say thank you?’ Alex prompted.
‘Thank you,’ Ottilie whispered.
‘Good girl,’ Janet praised, ‘and we’ll put your drink on the table over here so you can fetch it when you’re ready.’
‘Can I come back and sit next to her?’ Chloe asked Alex.
‘Of course you can,’ Alex smiled, thinking how lovely it was to be amongst children who weren’t disturbed in any way – a rarity for her. ‘She’d like that very much, wouldn’t you Ottilie?’
Seeming to take Ottilie’s failure to answer as a yes, Chloe zoomed off to get her own snack, while Alex, leaving Janet kneeling beside Ottilie, slipped quietly into the office to rearrange her day.
No more than ten minutes had passed by the time she returned to the playroom, and when she saw Ottilie sitting where she’d left her, her cake plate perched on one knee with the cake half eaten as she listened to the story, she felt her heart swell with relief. She was even tempted for a moment to leave her there, and come back at the end of the session, but it would have been wrong to break a promise, and besides she no longer had to rush off.
So, pulling up a chair to sit behind her, she busied herself with texts and emails on her BlackBerry while the story continued, until finally it was over and it was time to play games.
Ottilie was still too shy to join in, however she appeared totally fascinated, and when it came time to play music she accepted a little hammer from Janet and tapped out a few notes on a xylophone.
This child has been so starved of social contact, Alex was remarking to herself later as she sat squashed up next to Ottilie on the carousel, that she’s practically bursting with the need for it. What she’d have really loved to know was how many words Ottilie could actually say, since she’d only heard ‘Boots’ and ‘thank you’ so far; however, she certainly didn’t appear to have any problem understanding what was being said. She could clearly read a little too, which had been established simply by Janet asking her to point to certain words on a page. So apparently her father was taking time to educate her, even if he wasn’t encouraging her to speak, or mix with other children.
All that was coming to an end now though, thank goodness. Come hell or high water this little girl was going to start living as normal a life as it was possible for her to live, given the problem parents she had – and therein was a truth she came across all the time, that it was never the children who were the problem, it was the people who were supposed to be taking care of them.
‘Would you like to have a little walk on the beach now?’ she asked, after the fourth go round on the carousel. ‘The donkeys have gone, but maybe we can collect some shells.’ Then noticing how tired Ottilie was looking, she decided simply to gather her up in her arms and carry her back to the car.
‘You did very well today,’ she murmured softly as she put her into her seat. ‘I’m very proud of you, and so was Janet. Do you think you and Boots would like to go again on Wednesday?’
‘Yes please,’ Ottilie answered in her whispery little voice, and once again Alex was overcome by a sense of pride that could almost have been maternal.
‘She can go,’ Erica Wade stated, when they got back to the house and Alex had laid Ottilie down on the sofa, ‘provided you take her.’
Reminding herself that there was no point in arguing the case with an agoraphobic, Alex said, ‘It’s not my responsibility to ...’
‘I know that, but she’s used to you now.’
Used to me, Alex was thinking incredulously as she gazed down at Ottilie’s sleeping face. She was still in her coat and trainers and Boots was snuggled up under her chin. How on earth could Erica Wade think Ottilie was used to her when they’d only spent three hours together? And yet Alex couldn’t deny that the bond they already seemed to share had strengthened in that time, at least it had for her, and she felt sure it had for Ottilie too.
‘I’d like to ask you again about Jill McCarthy,’ she said, turning back to Erica. ‘Who is she?’
Erica’s face was ashen, but as it was always that way it wasn’t telling Alex much.
‘I’m sure you know, but I don’t understand why you won’t tell me,’ Alex pressed.
‘I thought you were here to see about Ottilie,’ Erica retorted, avoiding her eyes.
‘I am, but as her parent you’re also my concern. Your husband knows who Jill McCarthy is, because he’s the one who told me her name in the first place.’
‘Then you should speak to him.’
‘I shall, but I can’t help wondering ...’
‘Please go now,’ Erica interrupted. ‘I have things to do and I’d like to get on with them.’
Unmoved, Alex said, ‘In my assessment I recommended that you undergo certain tests ...’
‘For my mental health, yes I know. They won’t be necessary.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because they won’t.’
‘When I spoke to your old GP on Monday morning she told me that you’d suffered a nervous collapse after the death of your son ...’
‘I don’t want to talk about that. I’m fine now. It’s all in the past.’
‘But your current GP tells me that you’re still on medication.’
‘For depression, and to help me sleep. I don’t think that makes me very different to half the women in this country.’
‘But you are different in the way you treat Ottilie.’
Erica turned abruptly away. ‘I’ll have her ready for you on Wednesday at eleven,’ she said, starting from the room. ‘Is there anything she needs to take with her? Food, a drink?’
‘It’s all provided,’ Alex replied, following her into the hall. ‘Does your husband know that you didn’t take her this morning?’
Opening the front door, Erica said, ‘Thank you for coming. You can keep the seat in your car if you like, or return it to the garage, it’s up to you.’
‘Won’t your husband need it if he takes her out?’
‘He has one.’ Sweat was breaking out on her sallow skin, and her bony hands were trembling.
> Had there been more time Alex might have tried harder to keep her talking, but she was already late for her next appointment, and besides, Erica Wade appeared on the verge of physically pushing her out of the door.
‘I don’t know what to make of her really,’ she said to Tommy at the end of the day. ‘She definitely doesn’t seem in any fit state to have charge of a child, at least not to me, but she’s not alone in that, and convincing the courts will be a whole other story. Especially once Mr Wade starts weighing in with his exemplary credentials.’
‘And we’ve got a lot more hoops to jump before we can take it to legal,’ Tommy reminded her, ‘but it’s good that you’re forming a relationship with the child. Once you get her talking it’ll be interesting to hear what she has to say.’
‘Mm, won’t it just,’ Alex agreed. Then, noticing the time, ‘Oh God, I have to be somewhere by seven.’
Luckily he didn’t ask where, because she definitely didn’t want to tell him about the fifth-floor bedsit she was going to view, tucked away at the back of an old town house in the less than desirable area of Camberside.
‘I thought you might like to know that I had a chat with Shane Prince today,’ he said, escorting her to the door.
Surprised and impressed, she said, ‘I didn’t know it was possible to have a chat with him. And?’
‘He’s insistent that he hasn’t been ringing you, but whether or not we believe him ... I’m not sure what he would gain by it though, if it is him, are you?’
‘Apart from intimidation? How are you getting on with the sister?’
‘Well, I’ve seen her now, and what an enriching little experience that was. So full of grace and charm, just like her mother.’
Alex gave a splutter of laughter. ‘So what’s going to happen?’
‘For the time being young Polly stays where she is, because they’ve agreed to seek treatment for the STD and to daily visits, which is going to be a boundless joy for us all. Apart from you, I’m afraid, because given the cheery little message we know he left for you, I think it’s best you keep out of his way.’
‘Oh dear, there I go missing out on all the fun again. Anyway, I’ll look forward to the updates, and as soon as I’ve got hold of Brian Wade to get his take on what happened today I’ll let you know.’
Ottilie was watching her father coming into the kitchen, but he failed to give her as much as a glance. ‘Alex Lake was trying to get hold of me today,’ he said to Erica. ‘Why?’
Keeping her attention focused on the lamb stew that had arrived in tins and she’d poured into a cooking pot, Erica replied, ‘Didn’t you speak to her?’
‘If I had I wouldn’t be asking you what she wanted.’
‘I expect it was to do with Ottilie.’
His face tightened with impatience. ‘Did you take her to nursery?’
‘No.’
Unsurprised, he said, ‘You understand why she has to go?’
Replacing the pot’s lid, Erica picked up a tea towel and folded it. ‘Alex Lake took her,’ she said, going to the sink.
His eyes hardened as he watched her. ‘What are you up to?’ he demanded roughly.
She didn’t bother to answer.
Realising Ottilie was gazing up at him, he said, ‘You shouldn’t be listening to this. Go to your room.’
As Ottilie ran across the kitchen Erica said, ‘You’re scared, and so you should be.’
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to him. ‘You’re the one who needs to be scared,’ he growled.
Her eyes blazed into his.
‘You think you were clever, breaking into my studio, don’t you?’ he snarled.
‘Are you sure it was me?’ she sneered.
He was, but the shock of finding the window smashed, of thinking, even for a moment, that someone had broken into his computers, was still keeping him awake at night. He now knew the meaning of true terror.
Shoving her away, he turned around and walked back out again.
She watched him go. He was probably off to inspect the new window of his shed. Studio, she corrected herself.
Chances were they’d seen the last of him until she sent Ottilie to bang on the door – time for dinner. He might even ask for his to be served on a tray, in the shed, which was where he belonged, like a dog.
Leaving the lamb stew to go on sticking to the pot, she took herself into the sitting room. A repeat series of Fantasy Homes by the Sea was due to start at six. She hated to miss any of the property programmes.
A few minutes into the episode Ottilie came into the room, clutching her bear in one hand and a half-eaten biscuit in the other. There were crumbs on her cheek and a strap of her dungarees was tumbling off one shoulder.
Erica’s attention returned to the screen.
Sitting down on the floor, Ottilie took a while to remove her shoes. Then she climbed on to the sofa next to her mother, bringing the bear with her. Her legs were sticking out in front of her, not quite reaching the end of the seat. She sat very still as though she too was absorbed in the programme, then she shifted in closer to her mother so she was up against her all down one side.
Neither of them moved for several minutes, until Ottilie’s sleepy head drooped against Erica’s arm and Erica shot to her feet.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, her heart thudding an unnatural beat. ‘I’ve told you before ...’ She caught the words back, stuffed them deep down inside her, locked them away.
Ottilie buried her face in the seat of the sofa.
Realising she was crying, Erica walked out of the room and into the kitchen, almost colliding with Brian as he came in the back door.
‘What’s the matter?’ he demanded, as Erica switched on the radio.
Ignoring him, she went to start dishing up the stew.
Going into the sitting room and finding Ottilie sobbing on the sofa he scooped her up and held her in his arms. ‘It’s all right,’ he told her softly. ‘I’m sorry I shouted just now. Everything’s going to be all right.’
Her arms and legs hung limply against him as her head fell on to his shoulder.
‘That’s a good girl,’ he whispered gently. ‘Now you’re going to come out to the studio with me and tell me all about your time at nursery today. Would you like that?’
Ottilie shook her head.
‘Yes you would,’ and setting her on the floor he took her by the hand.
‘No,’ Ottilie whimpered, trying to pull back.
‘Don’t be silly now,’ he said crossly.
Wrenching her hand free she ran to pick up Boots.
‘OK, you can bring him,’ her father sighed. ‘He’s very good at keeping secrets, and you know how important it is that you do too. If you don’t I’ll have to take him away and you wouldn’t want that, would you?’
Ottilie’s eyes filled with tears as she shook her head.
‘Of course you wouldn’t, which is why you’re going to keep our secret and never tell anyone about the games we play, aren’t you?’
She nodded.
‘Don’t cry now, Ottilie. I said don’t cry!’
Ottilie was trying hard to do as she was told, but the sobbing in her chest wouldn’t go away.
Getting down on his knees he gripped her shoulders in his hands. ‘Guess what I brought home today?’ he whispered, his face very close to hers. ‘Some film of the boys and girls who play in my schoolyard. Would you like to come and watch it with me?’
Though Ottilie looked frightened, she nodded her head again.
Sighing pleasurably, he said, ‘Oh, Ottilie, you’re such a good girl that I think you might deserve your very first ride on the tiger tonight.’
Her head was jerking as the sobs began choking her. ‘No,’ she begged in her feathery little voice.
‘Oh, now I know you don’t mean that, because you love the tiger really and he loves you very much indeed. So come on, let’s go and cheer him up, shall we, because he’s been a bit lonely today.’
As he took her
hand and led her from the room her head was bowed and fat tears were soaking into the top of Boots’s head.
Erica didn’t look round as they passed her in the kitchen. She was gazing out at the night as though her mind was floating far off into the darkness.
‘Isn’t it time you took your pills?’ he snapped.
‘I just have,’ she replied.
He smiled at Ottilie. ‘You see, Mummy’s a good girl too, sometimes.’
Reaching for the bowls of stew she’d served up, Erica tipped them back into the pot and replaced the lid.
‘When is Alex Lake coming again?’ he asked, seeing her shiver as he opened the back door and a cold wind blew in.
She looked down at Ottilie, but her eyes weren’t focused. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she replied, and turning away she went back to the sitting room.
Chapter Fifteen
ALEX WAS WORKING from home today, making calls and writing up her notes from the day before. It was as she went back over the time she’d spent with Ottilie at the Pumpkin and afterwards that she realised how calming she’d found it, or distracting anyway. She’d been so wound up before going there, mainly thanks to the awful scene with the Leaches, but with everything else going on in her life too, that those few unscheduled hours were feeling a bit like an oasis now – or perhaps more like the eye of a storm.
There was no doubt it was all going to start whipping up again later when she went into the office, because on her way out last night she’d spotted a snippy little note from Wendy on the board for all to see, saying she’d like to see Alex Lake ‘as soon as Ms Lake can find the time’.
Though Wendy might be the least of her problems right now, she could still feel a band tightening around her head merely to think of her. So abruptly banishing her from her mind she clicked through to her inbox to check for any urgent emails. There turned out to be none from Jason, which hurt far more than she wanted to deal with, and none that couldn’t wait. However, before clicking off again she took a moment to read a message from a fellow social worker over at the South Kesterly hub. She was writing to let everyone know that one of their colleagues, Penny Gunter, had been signed off by the doctor for the next three months due to stress. Not at all surprised by this, since everyone knew how hard Penny had been struggling with the horrific injuries inflicted on one of her charges by his stepmother and grandfather, Alex immediately set about sending Penny a message of moral support.