‘It’s definitely hers,’ I say as it rings. ‘So what does that tell us?’
‘It doesn’t rule out anything,’ says the officer. ‘As I’m sure you appreciate, we need to investigate all angles.’ He pauses and I know that they already feel that Anna’s the guilty party here.
‘Someone else could have deleted her social media,’ I say hopefully. ‘Whoever has her.’
They both look at me straight-faced and I realize how silly I sound. Fear spikes at my insides.
‘Can I speak to my husband?’ I ask.
‘I believe he’s with CID,’ PC Manning says. ‘At least, they were on their way to see him.’
‘What do you mean “see him”?’
‘Sorry: they need to talk to him, too. Just to see if he can shed any more light on things.’
‘What? You think he…?’ I shake my head. ‘We’ve had our differences but… no. No way!’
‘It’s just procedure,’ says PC Manning. ‘He might remember things that you don’t. We don’t think anything at this point. We’re just trying to gather as much information as we can. It’s a stressful time, but please bear with us.’
The other officer, who’s been talking quietly on his phone, puts it down and looks at us.
‘We’ve assigned a Family Liaison Officer to you. Her name’s Jackie Dane. Her role is to help you through this. She’ll meet you at your home,’ he says.
PC Manning stands up, and I realize that the interview is over. I stand unsteadily. Mine and Anna’s holiday baggage has been brought discreetly into the room. I look at the suitcases – reminders of what now seems another life.
‘What happens now?’ I look from one of them to the other. ‘Do I just… What do I do?’
‘I’ll take you home,’ says PC Manning. ‘You’ll meet your FLO, Jackie, then maybe try to get some rest. Jackie will guide you through the next steps.’ She smiles. We’re all standing when her phone rings. She looks at the number and picks it up with a sense of urgency.
‘Yes,’ she says. There’s a long pause during which she nods and says, ‘Mmm, I see,’ and then, ‘Yes. I see. Okay. Thank you.’
She closes the call and turns to us. ‘We believe Anna’s been spotted on the CCTV. They’d like you to come and view it for a positive identification.’
Forty-three
I’m led down more back corridors to a surprisingly large room full of desks and screens. Waiting for us there is a man in shirtsleeves and grey trousers, who introduces himself as Steve, along with two officers whom PC Manning introduces as DS Baldwin, who’s apparently in charge of our investigation, and DC White. We’re ushered over to a desk and seated in front of one of the monitors.
‘This is the camera which was on the door in the departures area close to the Ladies,’ says Steve. ‘Ready?’
He presses play and, right there on the screen, I see Anna and me walking into the departures area with me carrying Joseph’s car seat. Steve freezes it.
‘Is that you?’ DS Baldwin asks and all I can do is nod because I’m suddenly shaking. I want to be back in that moment; I want to jump into the screen and be once more in that precise moment when I had Joe in his car seat. I want to not go to the bathroom; to walk straight on through to check-in; to get through passport control and security and onto the plane without ever handing him to Anna. I want to be on the plane to California right now with my baby in my arms.
Steve presses play again and I see myself stop, then Anna turn to face me. She nods and I hand the car seat to her and enter the bathrooms without a backward glance. My heart shrinks inside my chest. That’s the last time I saw Joe and I didn’t even say goodbye – I just handed him over like a parcel. Steve pauses the frame again.
‘Keep going!’ I gasp. ‘What happened? I need to see who took her!’
So Steve presses play again and then we see exactly what happened: straight after I go into the bathroom – probably before I’d even undone my trousers – Anna looks quickly left and right, then goes swiftly back out of the door we’d just come in, her arm already raised to hail one of the cabs that’s just dropped a passenger.
I stare at the screen in shock. ‘She took Joe herself? No one was with her?’
My hand clamps over my mouth and the piercing scream that echoes around the CCTV room is animal, guttural, and comes from the very heart of me.
He still loves me
I was only going to tell you ten things, and now I’ve used them all up. But I’m quite enjoying this, and there’s still something worth saying: the most important thing of all, I suppose, so consider this a bonus. Something I’ll give you for nothing.
He still loves me.
Oh, you think you have a happy marriage. You think you he’s ‘the one’ for you – the man you trust to father your children. But I hate to break it to you, sweetie-pie: you’re living in La-La Land.
Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. You don’t believe me? Let’s take a look at Croydon. Nothing against it, of course: it’s my home and I love it. It’s got art, culture and open spaces. But you left Santa fucking Monica in California, zip code 90401. You left the beach, and you moved to Croydon. Let that sink in for a minute.
Did you ever wonder why he ripped you from your perfect little existence there and dumped you here when he could have picked anywhere in Britain? Was it for the joys of the Whitgift Centre? For the rolling spaces of Lloyd Park?
No, shit-for-brains, it was for me.
I knew if I waited, he’d come back home. I knew it was just a matter of time. So I sat and I waited, I dreamed about him every night and, sure enough, just as planned, here he is.
What you never realize, sweetie-pie, is that men are simple creatures. There’s no point asking him about this because he probably doesn’t even know himself why he came back to Croydon – it happened subconsciously: like the tides being pulled by the moon, he was drawn to me; he chose to come back to where he last saw me without even realizing.
And when he sees me with his baby, it’ll feel like coming home. He’ll know then why he did what he did, and he’ll come to me and be with me. We’ll finally be a family: me, him and Joe. And you, my sweetie? You’ll finally see what you’ve been up against; you’ll see the monster that’s always lurked under your marital bed. You’ll let him go. You’ll go back to your Yankee Doodle friends and your Yankee Doodle family. You’ll get over this, and everyone will live happily ever after…
One day, you might even thank me.
Forty-four
Denial comes after the scream.
‘There must be a reason!’ I say, biting my lip as I shake my head. ‘Something must have happened. She wouldn’t just take Joe for no reason.’ I lean back in the chair, thinking, thinking. ‘Maybe she forgot something; maybe she went to get it and – I don’t know – got into a car accident or something. Have you checked the hospitals?’
DS Baldwin nods, his arms folded.
‘Maybe someone was waiting for her,’ I say, aware from the way everyone’s looking at me that they’re already drawing conclusions I don’t want to see – but I simply can’t understand why Anna would have taken my son back out of the airport. ‘Maybe someone bribed her. She wouldn’t do this on her own. She wouldn’t!’
‘They’ve picked her up getting into a cab. We’re tracing the cab right now.’ DS Baldwin says. ‘We’ve also checked the CCTV at the doors to the other terminals in case she entered a different one.’
‘Why would she…?’ I gasp. ‘You mean, to get a flight somewhere else? Oh my god!’ My voice rises hysterically and I clamp my hand over my mouth, my mind a maelstrom of babies snatched to order, of paedophile rings, and the drawn faces of Madeleine McCann’s parents who never got their happy ever after.
‘Let’s take this one step at a time,’ says PC Manning. ‘It’s positive that we have a sighting of her exiting the building and we don’t yet have one of her re-entering a different building.’
My hand’s still clasped over my mouth. H
ow could this have happened? Why did I leave Joseph with Anna? Because I always did. Because I trusted her!
Because she made you trust her, says a little voice in my head and, metaphorically, I jump on it with both feet. But I can’t stop my thoughts: what if I hadn’t gone to the bathroom? What if I’d run straight to the doors when I came out, instead of standing outside like a lemon? Would I have seen her getting into the cab? Would I have seen the back of her head in a cab as it drove off? How long did it take for her to get the cab? Did I miss her by seconds? My insides twist at the thought that the decision I made – to stand outside the bathroom and wait – could have cost me my baby.
‘We’ll get to the bottom of this,’ says DS Baldwin. ‘But for now, it’s best for you to be at home. She might try to get in contact with you there.’
Suddenly I see things in a different light. Whereas I’d wanted to remain at the airport because that’s where I felt Joseph was, now I suddenly realize that home is exactly where Anna will look for me.
‘Let’s go!’ I say, grabbing my bag. ‘What are we waiting for? She’s right. We need to be at home!’
And that’s it. PC Manning leads me back down the warren of back corridors to the original questioning room, where I collect the luggage, and then we troop back into the hustle and bustle of the airport, where all the noise suddenly starts up again: announcements, children shouting, babies screaming, people rushing to check-in, clutching see-through baggies; checking their pockets and bags for liquids before they go through security; a mass of humanity hugging, crying and kissing their loved ones. We head towards the terminal doors and the car park.
‘Just a minute,’ I say. I thread back through the afternoon crowds over to the spot where I last saw our son, but all I see is people going about their daily business, catching flights and going on holidays, and I don’t understand how they can when my baby has been taken from this very spot. In the distance, I see the information desk I went to when I realized Anna and Joe were missing. The same lady’s still behind the counter, still smiling her customer-service smile. It seems years since I approached her, hoping – believing – I’d get Joe back quickly.
‘It was here. Right here,’ I say. ‘This is the bathroom.’ I look around, shaking my head, then I turn and look at the door through which we’ve just watched Anna exit with Joe. Doors that will be imprinted on my memory for life.
‘If I’d only…’ I can’t finish the sentence. PC Manning touches my arm.
‘Come on.’
‘But…’ I can’t find the words to explain how it feels to stand on this spot – this spot where I last had Joseph with me; breathing air that he might have breathed himself. Leaving means accepting that he’s gone. It makes it real. I’m no longer just ‘separated’ from my son at the airport. Leaving means admitting that there’s nothing more I can do; that my six-week-old baby has left the airport without me. I close my eyes as I walk out of the door and, outside, I can’t stop myself from looking behind every obstacle, pillar and stack of luggage trolleys, hoping that maybe Anna left him somewhere. That she put him down before she got into the taxi. She wouldn’t take him.
‘Come on,’ says, PC Manning gently.
‘I can’t believe he’s not here.’
‘We’ll find him. We have a strong lead.’
We make our way numbly to the squad car as cars and buses stream past us, picking up people and moving on.
‘He could have been in any of these cars,’ I whisper. ‘Oh god! Why did she do this? There’s got to be a reason why.’
Forty-five
The journey home seemed to take forever. PC Manning tried to make conversation, explaining that Jackie would have to have a look about the house to glean any ‘extra information’. She said it was ‘just procedure’ and the fact that she said that put me on the defensive – I remember that. I remember thinking ‘Are we suspects?’ and wondering how Jake was taking to being questioned.
When PC Manning stopped talking, I slumped in the back seat, staring out of the window, hoping against all the odds that I’d see an Anna-shaped figure with a baby in the street. All the while in my head, there was a tangle of thoughts: did she really take him? Why? There must be a misunderstanding. We’ll laugh about this one day – one day when I have my baby back. Hope is a cruel thing: I let myself picture Joseph back in my arms, the warmth of him snuggled against me, the milky, soft scent of his skin in my nostrils. If I get him back, I’ll be such a good mother, I promised an invisible god. If I get him back, I won’t hand him to anyone. I won’t trust anyone, I’ll be the most hands-on goddamned tiger mum anyone’s ever seen. I’ll be his bodyguard, his champion, he’ll sleep in my room, I’ll watch over him 24/7.
I noticed at that point that Jake wasn’t in any of those images – I remember that, too. It was the first time I’d entertained the thought that we, as a couple, might not survive this – though I had no idea, of course, how badly things would actually turn out. Just, please god, let me get my baby back – that’s what I thought all the way home.
Outside the house, I fiddle about, hunting for the keys, reluctant to go inside and face the reality. PC Manning heaves the luggage out of the boot while I stand on the street, unable to process the fact that it was only a few hours ago that Anna and I left from this very spot with me so excited to be going to see my parents.
I walk slowly up the path and unlock the front door. I can hear voices in the front room: a female one and the low rumble of Jake’s, then Jake is suddenly at the edge of the hallway, still in his work suit, his tie loosened and hope plastered all over his grey face. He looks at me, and then at PC Manning, as if he expects Joe to be with us, like it was all a misunderstanding and we found him in the bathroom. I shake my head, my fist full of balled tissues, and Jake’s face crumples as he turns away.
Behind him, there’s a woman, burly and solid, with peachy cheeks and one of the kindest smiles I’ve seen.
‘Hello,’ she says, holding out her hand. ‘I’m Jackie.’
‘Jackie will be your Family Liaison Officer,’ says PC Manning. ‘She’ll stay with you to support you over the next few days – hopefully until we find Joseph.’
‘Please try not to worry,’ says Jackie. ‘We’ll get you through this. I’m here to help in any way I can.’
‘Thank you,’ I say on autopilot.
‘Can you get our baby back?’ Jake asks abruptly from where he’s standing, hands on hips, in the living room. ‘Because that’s all I want right now.’
‘I know,’ Jackie says smoothly. ‘And we’re working on it.
No one speaks, and I stand for a moment, just listening. The house has an empty feel to it, as if it has a baby-shaped hole in its very fabric. It’s a desolate silence, one I’ll remember as long as I live. I pause for a moment, breathing in, breathing out. How fleeting life is, I think. I had a son, the rest of my life mapped out as a mother, and now I don’t. That could have been my only chance. Was I not worthy? Had some god I don’t even believe in judged me and decided I was undeserving? Bad things I’ve done flick through my mind – things I did in college. Is there really a day of reckoning?
I step fully into the living room and then it hits me square in the guts: Joe’s white bassinet stands accusing, and, although I know it’s futile, I can’t extinguish the hope that somehow, when I go over, I’ll find him lying in it, asleep, while Anna makes a cup of tea in the kitchen. I drop a hand into bassinet and touch the sheet. It’s too much. I turn away, my heart shrunken in my chest, a tight elastic ball of pain.
‘All right?’ asks Jackie gently. ‘Can I make you a cup of tea?’
I nod yes and go and stand by the window, looking twitchily outside as if I might somehow find Joe. Jake prowls the room, like the caged tigers I’ve seen on TV. Jackie bustles in the kitchen then brings my tea.
‘I’ll just have a quick look around,’ she says. ‘It’s just procedure.’ She smiles and melts back out of the room.
‘They said they saw
Anna take him back out of the airport? On the CCTV?’ Jake says.
‘I saw it.’
‘So you’re definitely sure it was her?’
I nod. ‘Sure.’
‘But how?’ Jake spins to face me. ‘How did you let this happen?’
I look at him in disbelief. ‘What? “Let it happen”? I went to the bathroom and…’
‘Couldn’t you have waited?’ he says. ‘You’d only just left home! If you’d have waited…’ He breaks off.
I step back. ‘You’re blaming me?’
‘Well, you can’t blame me, can you?’ he says smoothly. ‘I never even met the woman. She was your friend!’
I put my hand on my heart. ‘Oh my god. Unbelievable.’
Jake raises his eyebrows at me. ‘Unbelievable? I’m just saying it as I see it.’
‘You let me go with her!’ The words blast out of me. ‘You didn’t stop me. You didn’t ask to meet her. You thought it was a good idea!’
‘I trusted you. I trusted your judgement,’ Jake says mildly. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
But I’m defensive now. All the pent-up emotion comes bubbling up, a vortex that has to explode. I don’t even care that Jackie may well be overhearing it.
‘Why did you let your baby son go away – to the States! – with someone you’ve never met? Great fathering skills!’ I snarl. ‘In fact, you were keen to send me, as I remember. You didn’t question anything. You just said yes! Oh, that was very convenient, wasn’t it? It’s almost as if you wanted me out of the way. Who were you meeting? Your girlfriend?’
Jake lunges for me and I think he’s going to shake me, but he stops himself. Instead, he shoves his face close to mine.
‘Will you give it a rest?’ he hisses, then he steps back. ‘You’ve got to stop throwing that back at me.’
I Know You Page 22