“What if I can get it another way?”
“What other way?”
“I don’t know yet; I’ll think on it.”
29
This morning on Breakfast.
How are the parents of baby Tyler coping? They haven’t been seen in public since their daughter’s disappearance. Later in the programme friends and relatives talk to us about how Julie and Bob Wainwright are faring.
There was no getting away from it. It was time for Tyler’s parents to do an appeal on television for the safe return of their child. Despite extensive appeals by the police and media, nothing had been found to give them any sort of lead as to Tyler’s whereabouts, so Crane and Draper had taken the decision to allow a personal appeal from the parents.
From an Army point of view, they had decided it wouldn’t be appropriate for one of those heart wrenching, degrading, open press conferences. That wasn’t the Army style, so it had been arranged that one reporter would interview the couple and then that interview would be made available to all the networks for showing on the evening news and breakfast news the following morning. That way the parents could appeal for information on Tyler’s whereabouts with dignity, rather than facing a bank of television cameras, photographers and reporters, who would do their best to behave like a baying crowd, winding the parents up until one of them snapped and sobbed and screamed, providing the hysteria they wanted for their news programmes. As Wainwright was military they were hoping for an interview with a bit more decorum.
The local television studios of the BBC weren’t what Crane expected. Somehow he expected a studio in a smart purpose built block, with lots of glass and light. But as he and Anderson walked up the road, they were faced with a very ordinary block-built office unit and a very small one at that. As they passed through the reception, they found that other companies occupied the building as well. Making their way to the sixth floor in the lift, the doors opened onto a floor that could be any large open plan office with cubicles, reminding Crane of a challenge maze for laboratory rats.
The receptionist smiled a brilliant white toothed smile, making Crane keep his mouth shut as there was no way his teeth would match up to the woman, who could easily have been in an advert for cosmetic dentistry. She told them the Wainwrights had already arrived and were in make-up, indicating a sofa against the reception wall where they could wait.
Crane, self-conscious in his rumpled raincoat, took it off and slung it over the arm of the settee, then ran a hand over his hair before smoothing down his tie.
“It’s alright, Crane,” Anderson said, “You’re not going on camera,” and laughed at his own wit.
“No, I know, but everyone looks so bloody smart.”
“Crane, relax, you’re the smartest looking man I know. If anyone should be self-conscious it’s me.”
Crane had to agree with Anderson on that. His tweed jacket was bent and stretched on the sleeves and the back flap creased and crumpled. Whereas Crane had a bright white starched shirt under a freshly cleaned dark suit. His tie was muted and free of food stains.
“I wonder what happens when they’re out of make-up?”
As Anderson shook his head to indicate he didn’t know, Crane strolled over to the receptionist to find out.
***
Julie wasn’t sure about doing an appeal on television, but desperation had won out. She would do anything to have her child back, so she was being prepared in makeup. Looking at herself in the mirrors, under the harsh light bulbs, she was astonished at the paleness of her skin. She was ghostly white - as though all the blood had drained from her face - and her skin looked paper thin. As she sat there, the makeup artist fussed around her with her pots, powder and paint.
“Is this absolutely necessary?” she asked the woman.
“I’m sorry, Mrs Wainwright, but you have to have makeup on.”
“But why? I don’t want to look painted, as though I put make up on to go on television. Surely the whole point is my missing child. Not to make me look good on television.”
“I know,” soothed the woman, “but if you go on television without anything on your skin, you won’t show up under the lights, which are even brighter and harsher in the studio than the ones here in the makeup room.”
So Julie submitted to having makeup put, on feeling that everything in her life was a compromise. She wanted to scream and shout in rage at the loss of Tyler, but had to behave, be quiet and nod her assent to the makeup.
She was led by the elbow to the television studio by the woman, once she had finished her titivating. Bob was already there, sat on a settee next to the pretty presenter, who looked perfect in every way. Beautiful, thin, wearing gorgeous clothes and the sort of shoes Julie wouldn’t be able to walk in, never mind afford to buy. No wonder her husband was smiling so warmly at her.
***
Crane and Anderson had been led into the studio and told to stand at the back of the control booth, from where they could watch the interview as it was filmed.
He had been surprised when they had been led through the maze of cubicles to an office suite off to one side of the large room which housed the television studio. It appeared that the studio was just another office. They passed through double glass doors into a darkened corridor, from which they were led into the control booth. The lighting was muted in this room, meaning the screens in front of the large audio and video control desk were easy to see and grabbed the eye. Tearing his eyes from the fascinating array of buttons and sliders on the mixing desk, he looked through the glass wall into the studio. Here there were blank walls behind the presenter and Sgt Wainwright. Crane guessed it was so that nothing would take the eye away from the interview when it was shown on television.
Julie Wainwright appeared, looking small and lost, clearly cowed by the experience so far. She reminded Crane of a timid mouse straight out of Beatrix Potter. As she sat next to her husband and put her hands in her lap, Crane could see them trembling even from this distance. He wondered how she would cope when interviewed.
***
Julie sat next to Bob, who hardly acknowledged her existence, until they were ready to film that was. Then he jumped into concerned husband and father mode, grabbing one of her hands in his and put his arm along the back of the settee behind where she was sitting.
Once the cameras were rolling, Bob talked about wanting to thank the public for all their efforts in trying to find their baby and for getting behind the campaign to find Tyler. He also thanked the military - well he would wouldn’t he - and the police.
Then he turned away from Julie, put his arms on his knees and talked directly into the camera. He was clearly born to do this sort of stuff, although she realised that for him it was probably just like briefing his lads about a difficult exercise, where he needed their full co-operation and was trying to get them to work to the best of their ability.
“Someone out there knows what’s going on,” he said. “Knows where Tyler is. Perhaps saw someone coming home with a baby they didn’t have before or heard a baby in the house where previously there wasn’t one. Please, everyone, think about your neighbours, people in your block of flats, people in your terrace, people in your street. Is anyone acting suspiciously? Buying baby stuff in the supermarket they’ve not bought before? The possibilities are endless,” he continued, “but I, um we,” he glanced at Julie, “just want our baby back.”
And that’s when Julie broke down and cried. She just couldn’t help it. It seemed such a daunting prospect, finding Tyler, no wonder the police and the military police hadn’t been able to do it.
Asked by the bloody stupid woman presenter how she was feeling, she said, “I just want my baby back. Want to feel her in my arms again. Want to hear her laugh, hear her cry, watch her sleeping. She’s my whole world. My reason for living.” Julie took a deep breath the way a drowning woman would and then continued, “I want to ask the person who’s got her, if she’s watching this right now, please think about what you’re
doing. Think about the heartache you’ve caused.” By now tears were running unchecked down Julie’s face. “Can you find it in your heart to return Tyler to her mother? Can you?” she begged.
Appeal
And now to our main story.
The parents of a baby who went missing in Aldershot in Hampshire have made an emotional appeal for her return.
Kim Symmonds turned off the television with tears in her eyes. She could only imagine what Julie Wainwright was going through. As if the poor woman didn’t have enough stress and worry in her life from being a soldier’s wife, before all this happened. No wonder Julie was close to collapse.
Since being married, Kim was beginning to see that wives like Julie Wainwright should matter to the British Army more than they did. They were the ones who engendered hope, courage and commitment in the soldiers sent away to fight for their country, as well as their military leaders. If only these women were rewarded by officialdom with the respect and dignity they deserved. Looking at Army life from the other side of the fence was causing Kim to have a completely different perspective on life in the forces than when she was a serving soldier. She was now in the unique position of understanding the point of view of those in the Army, as well as those out of the Army.
She’d seen first-hand, through Julie Wainwright, how debilitating loss is. How it is so hard to handle. But that went for any woman dealing with loss. The loss of a child, brother or husband. And that loss didn’t necessarily mean death. The loss of their husband through divorce affected women badly. Shattered their confidence, made them emotionally unbalanced and sometimes unable to participate fully in life. Becoming a mere bystander.
She wondered how the mothers of the boys who had given their lives for their country were coping with their loss. What strategies they had for coming to terms with it. Did they ever come to terms with it, or were they left frozen in time, unable to move along in their lives? She wasn’t advocating that they should forget their lost one, but wondered if, somehow, they could move forward with the positivity of that love walking along beside them.
Kim sat on the settee thinking, as her cup of coffee went cold on the table. Speculating how best she could serve her husband, the soldiers and, just maybe, the army of wives stationed on Aldershot Garrison. Turning over the possibilities in her mind. Examining each idea and either keeping it for further consideration, or discarding it.
***
Kerry was over the moon with the reborn Tyler. Not only did the child breathe and curl her hand around Kerry’s finger, but she cried and was pacified with a dummy. She proudly showed Tyler off to the Mollies and Alan.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” she asked Alan, hoping he’d feel the same about the reborn Tyler as she did. “Look, feel her skin, it’s so soft to the touch and warm, just like a baby’s should be.”
Kerry knew Alan had trouble moving his arms, so she gently took one of his poor deformed hands and stroked it along Tyler’s arm, so he could feel the child’s soft skin too. He’d lost three fingers on one hand and two on the other. But it didn’t seem to bother Alan, he just sat stoically in his chair, placidly watching Kerry as she bustled around looking after their family.
“I think I’ll leave her in the playpen, Alan,” she said. “I’ve cleaned it all out with disinfectant and there’s only a very slight mark now on the bottom of it.”
She put Tyler in the playpen and surrounded her with her toys. Kerry was delighted when Tyler’s hand curled around her favourite teething ring.
“Did you see that, Alan? Tyler’s so glad to be back with us, I’m sure of it.”
Kerry stopped fussing over the baby and sat on the couch looking at Alan. After a pause she said, “Of course I’ve remembered to cover the hinge bit of the bar. What do you think I am, stupid? Now look, stop trying to ruin our happy family time. I know, I’ll put the news on, you always like watching that, don’t you?” and Kerry switched on the TV turning it to the news channel.
Kerry sat back to watch as well, thinking that she deserved a bit of a rest herself.
“And now to our main story,” the presenter said. “The parents of a child who went missing in Aldershot in Hampshire have made an emotional appeal for her return.”
“Oh look, Alan,” Kerry called to him. “This bit’s about Aldershot, how exciting, we’re never normally in the news. Yes, I know we live in North Camp now, but we used to live in Aldershot and anyway it’s only a few minutes’ walk to Aldershot, so stop splitting hairs.”
Kerry turned her attention to the screen once more, where a couple, clearly very distressed were talking to the camera.
“My goodness me! It’s Julie Wainwright, Alan. You know, the one I’ve told you about before. The one from the mother and baby group. You know, Tyler’s mother.”
Kerry was fascinated by the way Julie looked. Her short trendy haircut was no longer artistically sculpted around her face, but was so dull and lifeless that it looked like the woman was wearing a synthetic wig. Her husband, Bob, who Kerry had never met, was looking angry rather than upset. His jaw was clenched to match his fists and he was staring into the camera as though he could see through it, all the way to Kerry in her flat in North Camp. She shrunk back into the settee to get away from the vehement anger emanating from him.
“Alan, stop chattering for a moment, I can’t answer your questions until I hear what they’re saying.”
“Please, please, don’t hurt my child,” Julie Wainwright was saying. “She must be very upset and frightened and needs her mother. I just want my baby back. Want to feel her in my arms again. Want to hear her laugh, hear her cry, watch her sleeping. She’s my whole world. My reason for living. I want to ask the person who’s got her, if she’s watching this right now, please think about what you’re doing. Think about the heartache you’ve caused. Can you find it in your heart to return Tyler to her mother? Can you?”
Kerry heard the final muffled words before Julie began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Oh my goodness, Alan. They want Tyler back. Julie seems very upset doesn’t she? But the question is - do they deserve to get her back? What do you think?”
Second Chance
“Well, I’m not so sure, Alan,” Kerry said, picking Tyler from the playpen and balancing her on her knee. “After all, Julie did leave Tyler alone in the pram that day.”
Kerry fussed over the child and smoothed down her beautiful brown curly hair.
“That scream was heart breaking and the only one who gave a damn was me,” Kerry reminded Alan. “No one else even looked into the pram. That scream was for me to find her. I’m sure of it.”
Tyler started crying, so Kerry popped the magnetic dummy into her mouth.
“There, there, Tyler,” she soothed, “there’s nothing to worry about. Just look at that, Alan, just the thought of going back has made Tyler cry.”
Julie put the child in the crook of her arm and started to rock her.
“Of course I saw how upset Julie was, Alan. I’m not sure about that husband of hers though, he looked a bit mean to me and I don’t want Tyler going back to someone who is mean and angry and horrible.”
Kerry got up and started to walk around the cramped flat as she listened to Alan.
“Alright,” she said, “Maybe he’s just angry because Tyler’s missing, not because he’d get angry with the child. Mind you, the last time I talked to Julie she said that Bob wasn’t much of a father.”
Kerry went to get a bottle of formula from the fridge and boiled the kettle for hot water to heat it with and continued to listen to Alan.
“I suppose you’ve got a point there,” Kerry conceded. “Fathers are different from mothers.” Then she laughed. “You’re right when you say soldiers are different from civilian men. They find it harder to express their true emotions.”
The kettle had boiled so Kerry put some hot water into a jug and placed the formula bottle carefully in it.
“Julie did say at one point,” she continued, “that she tho
ught Bob was having an affair. Surely that’s not good behaviour. Maybe he’s planning on leaving Julie for another woman and then Tyler would be going back to a single mother and trust me, I know how hard that is. She wouldn’t even have you for help and advice like I have. But then again perhaps it’s just the Army that’s Bob’s other woman. Really the Army is worse than another woman. It is a soldier’s controller, his dictator. The Army owns him. I’m sure Julie’s husband spends more time with the Army than with her. Just like you did. Remember?”
Tyler started crying again, so Kerry tested the temperature of the formula on the back of her hand and carried the bottle and the baby back to the settee.
Once Tyler was feeding happily Kerry said, “You’re right, Alan. Everyone does deserve a second chance. I’m sure Julie will never leave Tyler alone again like she did. I expect she’s learned her lesson. Understands now that there’s nothing as precious as a child and you must put them first all the time. Oh look, Tyler’s fast asleep now.”
Julie took away the bottle. “She’s not taken much milk, mind. I expect it was the shock of seeing her mum on television. I’ll just put her down.”
Kerry carefully laid Kerry on her back in the playpen.
“No,” she said to Alan as she straightened up, “I don’t want to call the police. They won’t understand. I want to see Julie and give Tyler back myself. Make sure she understands why I did what I did. And that she’s got to change her behaviour in the future. I’ll talk to that Padre Symmonds. I’m sure he’ll help. Arrange it so we can meet up. After all he was so good when I left Molly on his church steps. He said those nice things in the newspaper, remember?”
Kerry walked over to the computer.
“What? What’s his phone number? I don’t know but I’m sure it’ll be on the internet. Everything usually is.”
A Soldier's Honour Box Set 2 (Sgt Major Crane crime thrillers Box Set) Page 37