She shuddered, remembering the onslaught endured by her body giving birth. Really, it was no wonder so many mothers found it difficult bonding with their offspring. The whole process was disgusting. She remembered it as if it were yesterday …
‘Come on, Natasha ... don’t give up now. One more push ... you can do it.’
‘I can’t ...’
The contraction tore through her, ripping her stomach apart until she felt she’d split in two. ‘I want an epidural,’ she screamed.
‘You left it too late coming in for that,’ the midwife said cheerfully. ‘Oh, I can see the head. It’ll be out in two shakes.’
‘I hate it. I don’t want this baby and I’m never going through this again.’
‘That’s what they all say, you’ll soon forget. Come on, push ... good girl.’
And suddenly it was as if she no longer had any control at all over her body, the urge to push so strong that with one huge groan and a heave, the head was finally through.
‘Now stop! Stop pushing and start panting ... look, here she comes ... and it is a she ... a beautiful baby girl!’ She held her up, a delighted smile on her face. ‘Here you go. Congratulations ... have a cuddle.’
But after a quick glance Natasha had turned completely pale, shying away from the blood splats on her daughter’s tiny body with a flinch of abhorrence. ‘For God’s sake take her away and clean her up,’ she said shakily. ‘I can’t stand blood. She looks revolting.’
The midwife hesitated, looking at her in concern. ‘Okay dear ... if that’s what you want. Is there anyone you want to ring, to let them know you’re here? Your husband perhaps?’
‘No. I’ll call him later when I feel up to it.’
It was going to be a difficult conversation. And the moment of truth. Would Adam realise the baby wasn’t his? Thank God she’d looked quite small. She’d have to tell him that she’d come early – but would he believe her? One thing she did know for sure, he’d be on the next plane home once she’d rung him.
Later that evening she’d held her breath as he lifted the tiny bundle gently in his arms and cuddled her, but she let it out slowly again when she realised there was no hint of suspicion in his eyes.
‘She’s beautiful,’ he said in awe. ‘And not so tiny considering she’s come early. How can we have produced something so perfect?’
‘Thank God she wasn’t any bigger. I’m not going through that again.’
Adam smiled. ‘You’ll forget ... that’s what they say happens.’
‘No, I won’t.’ She paused, then said straight out. ‘I’ve decided I’m not having any more children.’
‘What do you mean? We’ve always talked about having a big family.’
‘I know we have, but that was before I went through the childbirth experience.’
‘But Tash…’
‘I mean it, Adam. I’ve changed my mind and that’s all there is to it. It’s all right for you – you’re not the one who has to go through it.’ She looked at him archly. ‘You didn’t marry me just to have children, I hope?’
‘Of course not, it’s just such a big decision, and too soon after the birth to lock yourself into it. You might feel differently a year or two down the line.’
Natasha shrugged. ‘Maybe, but I doubt it.’
She turned the subject firmly. ‘Gail said she can come in every day to do the cleaning and help out, while I’m getting used to the baby. I’ve still got quite a bit of Mum’s money left and I think I’ll take her up on it. That way you can get back to Uni with a clear conscience. You can’t afford to fall behind this far into your course.’
Adam looked doubtful. ‘I know I can’t, and I know we talked about it … but I hate that I can’t be here with you.’
‘I’ll survive, Ad. You’re only a phone call away if I need you.’
By the end of that first week she’d waved him back off to university. And although she’d promised him she’d think about the children thing, her mind was made up. They had Katie now and Adam would just have to get used to the idea of her being an only child.
‘I’m ready Mummy. Can I have a hot chocolate in bed while you read to me?’ Katie’s voice in the doorway jolted her sharply back to the present.
Natasha forced a smile.
‘You go on up sweetheart ... I’ll make some and bring it with me.’
But up in the bedroom, Natasha reeled at the sight that confronted her, her mood switching in an instant. Her eyes fixed condemningly on the small pile of books and toys on the floor and the two dolls propped up against them.
‘How many times have I told you everything must be put away before you go to bed? This room’s a mess. My mummy would have smacked me if I’d left my bedroom like this.’
She strode over to her daughter’s bed and yanked back the bedclothes. ‘Come on, out you get and clear it up. You know the rules. No story for you tonight.’
Later, at Andy and Lisa’s house, Natasha looked around the table enjoying being centre of attention.
‘God. You poor things. It must have been dreadful discovering something like that in your garden.’
The woman was staring at her in awe - hanging on Natasha’s every word.
‘Well, I’ve known Adam long enough to guess he took it all in his stride,’ Andy said, with a wry look at his friend. ‘I remember when we were at school in the science lab and that chap splashed acid in his face, Ad, do you remember? You were the quickest to react and the only one to know that you had to keep splashing it with cold water until the medics arrived. You’re a cool customer in an emergency.’
‘It was a shock finding it of course,’ Natasha said, drawing the attention back to herself, ‘and at first we thought it might have just been some old relic from years ago. But it seems not...’
‘Do the police think it is that woman’s baby?’
Natasha shrugged. ‘They’re not saying, but I think we’ll all be surprised if it isn’t. I just want it to be over so we can get back to normal. Adam’s walking on eggshells around me at the moment – driving me nuts. I think he lives in fear I’m going to be whisked back into hospital again. What he doesn’t realise is that he’s going to push me into it, the way he’s treating me.’
The look that accompanied this remark was malicious and Adam’s lips tightened. ‘I’m just trying to make things a bit easier for you.’
‘I don’t need protecting Adam – it’s been two years since my suicide attempt. I’m fine now on this new medication. Sometimes I think it suits you, the thought of having an invalid wife.’
There was a shocked silence around the table and Natasha couldn’t help the contemptuous smirk that curved her lips at the awkward exchange of glances. God, people were so predictable in their cosy little lives. They had no idea what real life was about.
‘Who’s for more wine? Andy asked quickly, reaching for the bottle. ‘That was delicious Lisa. What’s for pud?’
Natasha let him change the subject without comment. It was no more than she’d expected. Their friends hadn’t known how to handle the suicide thing and her being sectioned any more than Adam had, and their response had been to pretend nothing was wrong. But that was all right. In the end, she’d come through it on her own and clawed her way back to sanity without any help from any of them.
For a brief moment, her eyes clashed with Adam’s across the table, then she tossed her head, and turned to the man sitting at her side. ‘So,’ she said, flashing him her brilliant smile, ‘you’re in research? That sounds fascinating. Tell me all about it …’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Harry pulled up outside the Campbell’s house and drew a breath. This was stupid. He felt like some lunatic teenager. So, Natasha Campbell was an attractive woman and had made it obvious she wouldn’t be averse to a bit of a fling; that didn’t mean he should be tempted by it. In fact, he definitely shouldn’t be. He was a thirty-two-year old man. Too old to be letting a woman get under his skin like this. He needed to remember that
it was nothing more than hormonally driven temporary insanity, and intoxicating though it may be, it could ruin his career if things got out of hand.
Keeping that thought firmly in his head, he rang the bell.
She answered the door with a smile. ‘Hi … thanks for coming.’
She was wearing a cream coloured satiny dressing gown, her dark hair hanging seductively around the collar. ‘Sorry I’m not dressed. I took a sleeping pill last night and only woke up half an hour ago.’
Her gown was open at the neck offering him a tantalizing glimpse of black lace and frills. He averted his gaze as he followed her through to the lounge.
‘Perhaps I should come back?’
Even though Murray would murder him.
‘No, no. You’re here now. We might as well get it over with. It doesn’t hurt, does it?’
‘No, not at all.’
‘Good. Can we have a drink before we begin? Can I tempt you to a beer? I’m a bit nervous about all this.’ She indicated a tray where drinks were already laid out.
‘Bit early for me thanks.’
‘Oh, go on … live dangerously! I was about to pour myself a glass of wine. Keep me company.’
Her look was enticing, her bright eyes gleaming audaciously into his.
‘Well, ok … just a very small one then.’
He regretted the words the instant they were out, recognizing his weakness for what it was – a desire to please; to be sucked into the forbidden world she was tempting him with.
He pulled out the DNA kit and made a point of appearing to study it. She poured the drinks, then sat down next to him on the sofa, drawing her legs comfortably beneath her as she took a sip from her glass and watched him.
‘How’s the investigation coming on?’
He shrugged looking anywhere but at that cleavage. ‘Slower than we’d like but it often drags out like this to start with. It’s all about trying to establish pieces of the puzzle and collecting whatever background information we can from everyone. Once we’ve done that, the interesting part kicks in, where we try to fit the pieces together and make some sense of it all.’
‘So, this DNA thing. Where do you take the sample from?’
He withdrew the swab from its wrapper and cleared his throat. ‘The inside of your mouth usually. It’s very quick.’
She shifted her position unfurling a shapely leg so that she could lean closer to him as she tilted her chin and parted her lips. Harry had never viewed this procedure as erotic before but the way she swirled her tongue lazily round those lips – giving him a wicked smile before opening her mouth fully - did funny things to his heart rate. He swabbed the area gently, being careful not to meet her eyes, and replaced the stick in its container.
‘There ... all done.’ He caught an intoxicating wisp of perfume as she drew back and looked at him. She was eyeing him saucily.
‘That was quick. How long is it since you’ve had sex, Harry?’
He blinked at her directness, then laughed. ‘Longer than I care to remember…’
‘Me too. How about we do something about that now?’
‘Mrs Campbell…’
‘It should definitely be Natasha if we’re talking about something so personal, don’t you think?’
She grinned, her eyes burning saucily into his as she untied the belt to her robe and let the sides fall open. Beneath it the wispy black silk of her camisole clung seductively to her slender curves. ‘Come on, let’s have a bit of fun.’
His eyes dropped to the creamy whiteness of her breasts, the taut nipples protruding delicately through the thin material, and he knew he was in danger of losing it. All he could think was that he wanted to lose himself in the soft rise and fall of that delectable body.
He was hardly aware of her hand taking his, moving it slowly to cover her breast, rubbing it sensuously over the nipple. ‘Where’s the harm in it?’ she whispered. She leaned in, brushing her lips tantalisingly over his, as her tongue slid out to trace the outline of his mouth.
This was madness. ‘Natasha …’
The pressure of her mouth on his increased, her arms slipping around his waist to draw him closer. ‘Kiss me,’ she breathed against his lips. ‘You know you want to.’
But even as her kiss deepened, one part of his brain was clinging onto sanity – trying desperately to find a way out of the hole he’d dug for himself. It was with huge relief that he suddenly realised that the buzzing sensation in the region of his groin wasn’t passion, but his mobile phone going off.
He struggled to disengage himself, simultaneously reaching for the phone in his pocket. She clung onto him, her voice a feverish whisper. ‘Leave it.’
‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’
He looked at the ID. Murray. Shit.
‘I have to take this.’
He pulled back from her, rising from the settee to move over to the window. He took a deep breath before snapping the phone on.
‘Where the fuck are you?’ Murray barked.
‘Uh ... I’m over at the Campbell’s house getting the DNA sample from Mrs Campbell.’
‘Well get your arse back here now.’ Murray didn’t often lose it, but when he did, it was impressive. Christ, did he somehow know?
‘Uh ... right … yes … I’m on my way.’ He cleared his throat. ‘What’s up?’
‘Just do it, Harry.’ And the line went dead.
He hung up and looked at Natasha. ‘Something’s come up. I have to get back.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ She swallowed her obvious frustration with difficulty. ‘When can you come back?’
But Harry wouldn’t meet her eyes. It was dawning on him what a complete and utter idiot he’d been, and how his boss had just saved his bacon.
‘I don’t know. I’ll call you.’
‘Come over tomorrow or Friday,’ she said quickly. ‘Adam will be at work. I’m sure you can think of an excuse as to why you need to see me.’
She sidled up to him and gave him a parting kiss, seemingly unaware of how rigidly he was holding himself. Then she smiled seductively up at him and drew back.
‘Don’t leave it too long,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve enjoyed what I’ve experienced so far.’
***
Murray jumped up the minute Harry entered the office. ‘You took your time,’ he growled. ‘No, don’t take your coat off we’re going out again.’
Harry took one look at his face and fell into step beside him.
‘What’s up?’
‘The DNA results are back. It’s not Sophie Walker.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me.’
‘But ... shit! Are they sure?’
‘Absolutely, according to Edwards. And he’s run the information past all the other samples they’ve got on the computer – and nothing. What the hell’s going on, Harry? I was convinced it would be her.’
‘Well, we all were ... everything fitted. No other babies have been reported missing. Peterson’s checked that out. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Well let this be a lesson to you – to all of us – never assume anything. Christ, I can’t believe I allowed myself to fall into that trap. We let ourselves be overly influenced by the media and now we need to do some serious rethinking.’
Outside he looked at Harry over the roof of his car.
‘Speak to Peterson to find out how wide an area he covered when he did his search on missing babies. Get him to widen it to Countrywide if he hasn’t already. Europe-wide if he has. And find out where we are with the previous owners of the Campbell’s house. The Aussie police must have interviewed them by now.’
‘I had an email yesterday. They were typing up the report and said they would be sending it today. I’ll chase it up.’
‘Do it. We need to pull our fingers out. I’ve got a meeting with Harrison this afternoon and he’ll be breathing down my neck once he hears about this. No, don’t come with me. You get on over to Hannah Walker and give her the good news. I guess she
and the boyfriend are out of the loop for now.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going over to forensics to speak to Edwards in person. I need him to prioritise that lock of hair just in case it is Sophie Walker’s. I can’t think for one minute that it will be, but at least then we’d have something to show for our efforts. And whether it’s the abductor or a hoaxer, we need to get that established and decide if there’s an argument for reopening the Walker case. After that I’ll go and see the Campbells and update them. I’ve not met the wife yet. How was she when you saw her this morning?’
Harry felt himself break out in a sweat. He needed to go over himself and see her – let her know that what had happened between them had been a mistake that mustn’t be repeated. He suspected she might not take too kindly to that.
‘She seemed fine today, but she’s pretty up and down I think.’
‘That’s what the husband said. Perhaps I’ll try and see him first. Catch you later.’
***
Harry pulled up outside Silver Lining Interior Designs in Hertford. He could see Hannah Walker replacing something in the window display, and getting out of his car he stopped to admire her efforts before nodding at her and entering the shop.
‘Sergeant Briscombe.’
‘Miss Walker.’
She looked at him apprehensively. ‘Have you come with news?’
‘Yes. I won’t waste any time beating about the bush. The remains we found weren’t your daughter’s.’
Hannah gasped, staring at him in deep shock for a moment, before stumbling out of the window and sinking into the one and only chair on the shop floor. She buried her face in her hands. ‘Oh, thank God, thank God...’
He gave her some time, saying nothing as she rocked gently back and forth in her chair. When she finally looked up, her expression was once again the expressionless mask she seemed to have perfected so well.
‘Who is it then? Do you have any idea?’
Cry From The Grave A Thrilling Psychological Crime Mystery (Harry Briscombe Book 1) Page 13