Stolen Children

by Michael Wood

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m going to get her.’

  ‘Ranjeet, don’t be stupid, you could be swept away. We can get her from the other side.’

  ‘The way the water is storming down here, it could sweep her away before we get the chance.’

  Scott ran over to the van Ranjeet was standing on. He jumped up and grabbed hold of him. ‘DI Brady is on his way down. Leave it for him to make the decision.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Scott, this isn’t about rank, this isn’t about hierarchy, this is a person, a colleague, and she’s in danger.’

  ‘What about Kesinka? What about your son?’

  ‘You make it sound like I’m jumping into an abyss.’

  There was another roar and more of the saturated embankment crashed into the water.

  ‘Scott!’

  Scott turned at the sound of his name being called. He saw DI Brady and Natasha running towards him but turned back when he heard the sound of a splash. Ranjeet was nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter 52

  Matilda and Sian sat at the kitchen table with Jodie opposite them. Sian had made them all a hot drink – tea for her and the DCI and a hot chocolate for Jodie who had changed into jeans and an old sweater.

  The house was deathly quiet. It was usually a hive of activity. The television was on constantly, or, when Linda was in the kitchen preparing a meal, she had the radio on loud, blasting out hits from the 80s and 90s. Riley was always making a noise, whether screaming or crying or calling out but now, it was silent.

  ‘Jodie, how long has your mum been ill?’ Matilda asked.

  Jodie looked down into her mug. She hadn’t taken a sip yet. She remained rigid, her hands cupped around it. She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. A couple of weeks ago she kept saying she felt sick. We have to be careful with Riley. If any of us are ill, we can’t go near him. Mum went to the doctor and they said she had a stomach virus. They gave her something, but it didn’t seem to work.’

  ‘You say she felt sick, was she actually sick?’ Matilda asked.

  ‘Not at first. It was a few days after she said she felt sick when she was properly sick. We’d just had tea. Mum was in the kitchen doing the pots and I was helping her dry. One minute we were chatting and laughing, the next she just vomited.’

  ‘How many times has she been sick?’

  ‘I don’t know. I always ask how she is when I get home from school. She says she’s fine, but I don’t think she is. I think she’s lying.’

  ‘Has she lost weight?’ Sian asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Has she been back to the doctor?’

  ‘Yes, but they said there’s nothing they can do. She’s not ill or anything. I mean, if she had an illness then Riley would have caught it, and he’s been fine.’

  Matilda frowned. She looked across at Sian who was wearing a similar expression.

  ‘Jodie, has anyone else been sick?’ Matilda asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Who cooks the meals?’

  ‘Mum. Sometimes I do, but not often. I’m not that good.’

  Matilda fidgeted in her seat. ‘Jodie, is it possible your mum might have been making herself sick?’

  ‘What?’ She looked up. Her gaze switched between Matilda and Sian and back again. ‘Why? Why would she do that?’

  ‘Sometimes people make themselves ill to get attention. Your mum spends all of her time in the house with Riley and when people see her, they ask how Riley’s doing. They don’t ask how she is. Do you think she could be making herself sick so people will worry about her?’

  Jodie thought for a moment. She looked older than her fourteen years. There was an air of sadness about her. ‘But … with what’s happened to Keeley and everything, why would she still do that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Matilda said. ‘Your mum might be more ill than we all think.’

  ‘You think she’s mad?’

  ‘No. Maybe a touch depressed.’

  ‘Jodie, did you ever see Riley have a seizure when he was younger?’ Sian asked.

  ‘No. They always happened at night while I was in bed. Wait, do you think she made those up too?’

  ‘We’re not sure.’

  ‘But … she can’t have done. I mean, Riley was born a normal boy. Now he’s brain damaged. If that didn’t happen because of a seizure, how else could it have happened?’

  Sian looked down at the table.

  ‘You think … Mum did it? How is that even possible?’

  Matilda reached across the table and placed her hands on top of Jodie’s. ‘Sometimes, when a woman has a baby, it’s not always the happy occasion it’s made out to be. Sometimes, women can get a bit down.’

  ‘I know all about post-natal depression,’ she snapped. ‘Mum isn’t depressed. And if you think she’d purposely harm him you’re wrong.

  ‘Erm, Jodie,’ Sian began, ‘where’s Riley?’ Her questioned was loaded with concern.

  Jodie’s face hardened. ‘He’s asleep.’

  ‘All this time? With everything that’s gone on in the house, he’s slept through it all?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Lucky him,’ she said, and gave a nervous chuckle.

  ‘Maybe we should check on him,’ Matilda said. ‘Sian, would you mind?’

  Sian stood up.

  Jodie jumped from her seat and blocked Sian’s exit from the room. ‘No. I’ll go.’

  ‘Jodie, sit down and talk to me,’ Matilda said. ‘I want you to tell me more about what your mum’s been doing lately. We might be able to come up with something to make her feel better. Sian’s got four kids; she knows not to go barging into the bedroom and scaring him.’

  Jodie backed away and stood in the doorway. ‘No. I don’t want you going into his room.’

  ‘Why not?’ Matilda asked, standing up.

  ‘You’ll frighten him. He gets confused with people he doesn’t know.’

  ‘Jodie, what’s going on?’ Matilda stepped forward.

  ‘Nothing.’ She was growing more flustered. Her eyes were darting left and right; her breathing was erratic.

  ‘Jodie, I want you to step away from the door. I need to check on Riley, make sure he’s all right,’ Sian said, standing up and moving around the table slowly.

  Jodie lunged forward and grabbed a carving knife from the block on the work top. She held it firmly in both hands. They were shaking as she pointed the stainless-steel blade at Matilda and Sian.

  ‘Jodie, what have you done?’ Matilda asked.

  ‘I haven’t done anything.’

  ‘Then what are you hiding?’

  Chapter 53

  DC Rory Fleming had found a quiet room for him and Craig Armitage to wait in while the doctors were racing to save his wife’s life. Craig was standing by the window, watching the rain teem down through the slats of the dusty venetian blinds.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen rain like this before,’ Craig said calmly. ‘It’s like the end of the world.’

  ‘Craig, can I get you anything? A tea or coffee maybe?’ Rory asked. He was sitting on the nearest chair to the door.

  ‘No. I’m fine, thank you,’ he smiled. ‘Do you think the world is ending?’ he asked, turning back to look out of the window.

  ‘I … don’t think so,’ Rory frowned.

  ‘It feels like it. My daughter is dead. My wife …’ He choked on his words. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that before, not even in films.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘We were in the living room eating a sandwich. She’s not been herself for a couple of weeks now. The sandwich just dropped out of her hands. She started retching and then she was sick, but nothing came out. Then, all of a sudden, she’s choking and bringing up blood. I shouted to Jodie to call for an ambulance. I thought the tiredness and everything was down to grief. She could have been seriously ill all this time and I’ve not noticed.’

  ‘This may all be down to grief, Craig. It affects people in so m
any different ways. You’ve said yourself how much she does for Riley. She’s looking after him twenty-four hours a day. Then there’s the house and Jodie and Keeley, and everything else. There’s only so much a person can take before their body has had enough.’

  ‘And you think that’s what this is?’ he asked, looking hopeful.

  ‘I’m not a doctor, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she doesn’t just need a long break from things.’

  Craig moved from the window and sat in the chair opposite Rory. ‘Maybe we could go away for a while. Linda’s always been reluctant to put Riley in respite care; this might make her see sense.’

  Rory smiled at him placatingly.

  The door opened and a tall woman with her hair falling out of a loosely tied ponytail came into the room. She was thin and wore black trousers and a blue and white striped shirt. The severe bags under her eyes aged her, as did her dry skin and drooped shoulders. A doctor in a busy A&E department was not a good place to work if you wanted to look after yourself.

  ‘Mr Armitage?’ She asked. There was a slight Welsh lilt to her voice that sounded calming.

  Rory moved over for her to sit down. She leaned forward.

  ‘I’m Doctor Megan Williams. I’ve been working on your wife since she was admitted. I’m afraid we were unable to control your wife’s breathing. The levels of oxygen in her blood were far too low and she suffered respiratory failure. I’m so sorry.’

  Craig looked at the doctor. His expression hadn’t changed since she’d entered the room. ‘Can I see her?’

  The doctor looked at Rory then back to Craig. ‘Mr Armitage, your wife has died.’

  ‘Should I go home and get her an overnight bag or something?’

  Rory stepped forward. He placed a hand on his solid arm. ‘Craig, listen to me,’ he said slowly. ‘Linda didn’t regain consciousness. There was nothing the doctors could do. She’s died.’

  ‘Died?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But … no … She can’t leave me. Last night she was talking about Keeley’s funeral and what music we should have.’

  ‘Craig …’

  ‘There’s this company that does coffins for children and you can have Disney prints put on them. We saw one that looked like a castle. She smiled. Linda smiled for the first time. She wanted Keeley to be given a funeral fit for a princess. She wouldn’t just die like that. She wouldn’t.’

  A tear fell from his left eye. Then more followed.

  ‘Oh my God! Oh Jesus Christ, no,’ he collapsed into Rory who held him tightly and allowed him to sob and wail and scream into his shoulder.

  Chapter 54

  Ranjeet plunged into the dirty water of the River Sheaf. The rain was starting to die down, but the river was still raging. As soon as Ranjeet hit the water, he disappeared beneath the surface and didn’t emerge.

  Scott jumped on top of the van and scrambled to the wall.

  ‘Don’t even think of following him,’ Christian shouted, his voice filled with rage.

  Scott ignored his superior officer. ‘Nat, get up here, bring your torch.’

  Natasha hesitated for a second before following Scott. She slipped on the wet van and Scott had to pull her up to its roof. They leaned against the brick wall and shone their high-powered torches over the top into the angry waters below, searching for their colleagues.

  ‘Ranjeet!’ Scott shouted. It was no use. Against the sound of the breaking waves crashing against the wall, his cries were drowned out.

  They shone their torches in every direction, but they couldn’t find Ranjeet.

  ‘Is that Ellen over there?’ Natasha pointed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sir,’ Natasha turned to DI Brady. ‘Ellen’s stuck on the other side and the water is rising. We need to get round there before she’s swept away.’

  ‘I’m on it,’ he said, turning his back on them, his phone to his ear.

  ‘Where the bloody hell is he?’ Scott said through gritted teeth as he leaned as far as he could over the wall without falling in.

  ***

  Hitting the water feet first, Ranjeet landed with a thud on the hard riverbed. His left ankle twisted and snapped. He opened his mouth to cry out in pain, but the water filled it before he could make a sound. Instinct caused him to swallow and he started to choke. He tried to breathe, but it was no use. He scrambled with his arms, flailing them up and down to try and get to the surface but his body was weakened as he ran out of oxygen. With his one good leg, he kicked hard and broke the surface of the water with a gasp. A blinding spotlight immediately caught him.

  He coughed and his body panicked as it tried to take in lungfuls of air. He heard his name being called, but he couldn’t isolate where the sound was coming from. It wasn’t long before he realised he was moving. He was being swept away down river, and he was gaining speed.

  Ranjeet’s mind focussed as oxygen returned to his brain. He had a task to do. He needed to get to Ellen before it was too late. He tried to find something to grab hold of, but there was nothing there. No rocks, no branches, no trees, nothing. He wasn’t in a river in the middle of the countryside with trees hanging over for him to grab on to; this was the Sheaf, running through the heart of Sheffield, surrounded by factories, warehouses, and abandoned buildings. He kicked harder and managed to get to the side of the river, his fingertips holding on to a broken off piece of brick in the river wall.

  He looked up and saw a blurred image of Scott staring down at him from faraway upriver, shining a torch in his face. His mouth was moving, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. He seemed so distant. Had he moved or had Ranjeet drifted too far downstream to be able to make a rescue attempt without putting his own life in danger?

  ***

  Scott had asked Natasha to find a rope from somewhere once Ranjeet had emerged from below the water and started drifting. They ran to the last van in the row of vehicles in the car park, tied the rope around the front bumper and threw the other end over the wall into the treacherous waters below. It didn’t land anywhere near Ranjeet and Scott couldn’t tell if he had even seen what they were trying to do. The rope started to drift. He pulled it out and tried to throw it closer to their stricken colleague again. This time, it landed within a few feet of Ranjeet and drifted towards him on the surface, but he didn’t make any effort to grab hold of it.

  ‘Come on Ranjeet, for fuck’s sake,’ Scott shouted.

  ‘Maybe he’s frightened of letting go of the wall.’

  ‘He has no choice. He either grabs for the rope or he floats off downstream. We need to get closer,’ Scott said.

  ‘We can’t get any closer.’

  ‘Fuck. Ok, pull the rope out. We’ll throw it again. Give him a few more seconds to find his bearings.’ Scott curled up the wet rope in his hands. ‘Hold on to me, Nat, I’m going to lean out as far as I can.’

  ‘You can’t lean any further without falling in. We can’t have three of you in there.’

  ‘Just … hold on to my legs or something.’

  ‘Shit. I don’t think I can get any traction, you’re all wet.’

  ‘We don’t have any choice. Here, Nat, just do it.’

  Scott leaned over the wall as far as he could go. He heard DI Brady shouting something from the safety of the ground but couldn’t hear the exact words. From the tone of his voice, he wasn’t happy with this plan. Three quarters of his body was hanging over. If he fell, he’d suffer the same fate as Ranjeet. He hoped Natasha had a good enough grip. With as much energy as he could muster, he lobbed the rope. It landed close to Ranjeet who leapt for it and grabbed it with both hands.

  ‘Pull me back up,’ Scott screamed.

  He heard Natasha groan as she pulled her colleague back. He pushed himself off the wall and they both fell back on the roof of the van.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Natasha asked.

  ‘I think I’ve just seen my whole life flash before my eyes.’

  ‘Blimey, I bet that was boring,’ she s
miled, though her face looked frightened.

  ‘Cheeky cow.’

  Looking back over the wall, Ranjeet had tied the rope around him as best he could and started swimming against the surge. At first, he hardly moved, but soon he built up a momentum and headed for Ellen.

  ‘Come on Ranjeet, you can do it,’ Scott screamed, hoping the encouragement would help him to keep going. ‘Nat, keep an eye on the rope. We don’t want it coming undone.’

  ***

  Ranjeet powered on through the raging torrent that was pummelling him from all sides. He swallowed more water. He could hardly see as he had to keep closing his eyes against the spray that hit him in the face. Every time he looked up, he didn’t seem to be getting any closer to Ellen. He could hear the muffled cries of his colleagues, urging, spurring him on. Failure was not an option. To fail would mean death for Ellen and himself. He couldn’t leave Kesinka without a husband and Hemant without a father. His failure would lead to so much sorrow and tragedy. He couldn’t let those who were counting on him down.

  He kicked against the water, swam hard against the tide. His limbs were tiring, his lungs were hurting with every breath and he could feel his heart beating faster to keep him going. How much longer would his body be able to take such a battering before it gave up?

  He made it to the other side of the river and dug his fingers into the saturated bank where the concrete had long since crumbled away. He pulled himself further along. He could see Ellen. He was getting closer.

  Above, a brilliant white torch light beamed down. He looked up and saw several officers waiting hopefully, their faces pictures of expectation and worry.

  At last, he reached Ellen. He heard cheering, as he turned her over and looked into her pale, wet face. Her eyes were closed. He placed an ear against her chest but over the sound of nature, he couldn’t hear a heartbeat.

  A rope fell from above, hitting him on the head. He looked up.

  ‘Tie this around her. We’ll pull her up. Then we’ll get you out.’ Someone shouted.

  Ranjeet was rapidly losing energy. It was a struggle to get the rope around Ellen’s waist, but he managed it and gave the nod for the officers to pull her carefully up the embankment. She was safe, and he began to relax. He was spent. He leaned against the bridge where Ellen had come to rest. His breathing started to slow down. He’d been victorious. He was a hero. He smiled and closed his eyes.