Finding Lucy

by Diana Finley

‘Listen. I want you to go and sit down. Will you do that straight away?’

  Now I was really frightened. I sat on a kitchen chair clutching my mug of tea. ‘I’m sitting, Guy …’ I whispered.

  ‘OK. I’ll try to tell you everything that’s happened. Please just let me finish before you ask questions or interrupt.’

  I heard him take a deep, juddering breath.

  ‘As you know, Lucy’s not been herself lately. I know you’ve been worried about her, as I have.’

  I mouthed “yes” silently.

  ‘Well, over the past couple of days she’s got worse. More detached, more withdrawn. She was fantasising constantly that someone was going to steal Milo. She believed someone was watching the house, waiting for an opportunity to kidnap him. No amount of my reassurances made any difference – she was absolutely convinced. Every time the doorbell rang she picked the baby up and ran upstairs with him to hide. I’d find her crouched somewhere, hugging him, absolutely terrified …’

  I heard a sob in his voice.

  ‘Oh Guy, I’m so sorry …’ Then I remembered he had asked me not to interrupt, and stayed silent.

  ‘The GP asked a psychiatric social worker to call, which she did the day before yesterday,’ he continued. ‘She’s called Ruth. She’s very nice, very sensitive. Ruth felt Lucy was sinking into a kind of postnatal form of psychosis. It’s worse than just postnatal depression. It’s rare, but … it happens sometimes. Maybe some people are more prone to it than others. I wondered … well … if Lucy’s early experiences might have predisposed her to this reaction.’

  ‘Oh …’ I gasped inadvertently.

  He paused. I heard him blowing his nose and taking some deep breaths.

  ‘Anyway, there’s a specialist centre for mothers and babies quite nearby, where she could get highly specialised treatment and counselling, and support in a small unit. She’d be able to keep Milo with her. I’d be able to go into the unit and be with them every day. You could come in too in a while, once she’s better. They assured me she’d get better, Alison, although it might take a few weeks, or even months. Ruth said there was a place becoming vacant in a couple of days and they’d reserved it for Lucy and Milo …’

  His voice broke again.

  ‘Well, but it’s wonderful that such help is available, Guy …’ I ventured cautiously.

  After a long pause, he said, ‘Well, yes, but …’

  ‘But …?’

  ‘But, the thing is … she’s gone missing, Alison.’

  ‘Missing …?’

  ‘Very early this morning I heard her get up. It was about five a.m. I thought she was just going to feed the baby. He sometimes wakes about that time. I must have fallen asleep again – I’m so tired. Oh, Jesus, I’ll never forgive myself …’

  ‘Guy?’

  ‘When I woke again, she still wasn’t there, I mean, in bed. Sometimes it takes a long time to settle Milo back again … so I got up and went to the baby’s room to see what was happening. They weren’t there. I searched the house, but there was no sign of them. Lucy’s coat was missing and she’d taken some warm clothes and shawls for Milo, and his carrier … and the front door was locked, but the backdoor was open.’

  I gasped.

  ‘So, what did you do?’

  ‘I rang the police straight away, and the GP, and Ruth, and Cassie. Anyone I could think of. I was just in a total panic. I raced up and down the street looking for her and calling, but there was no sign of Lucy or Milo. The police are searching for them. They’ve been really good and understanding. I’m so scared, Alison. They’ve been missing for sixteen hours. I’m afraid she might do something silly … like hurting herself … or Milo.’

  Cold fingers of fear wrapped themselves around my spine.

  ‘Now, no, no … that’s not possible, Guy. I can’t believe Lucy would do any such thing. That’s not how I’ve brought her up,’ I said firmly. ‘If she took warm clothes, it shows she’s thinking of Milo’s welfare. She would never, ever do anything to harm him.’

  ‘No, you’re right. I’m just so worried about her, about both of them. Oh God, I just want her home.’

  Picturing my confident, intelligent “son-out-of-law”, with all his psychiatric knowledge and experience, in this desperate state of agony and doubt pained me greatly.

  ‘You must stay strong, Guy. They’ll find her, I’m sure they will. I shall take the first train I can up to Edinburgh. I’ll get a taxi from the station. Stay at home, won’t you, in case she comes back, or tries to contact you? I’ve got my mobile phone if you need to reach me.’

  I put the receiver down. I was trembling from head to foot.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Lucy

  We were ready. He was all snug in his carrier, wrapped up warm in his furry teddy bear suit, with the shawl tucked round him for extra protection. I slipped on my warmest coat, with its thick padding and hood. Perfect; it fitted round Milo too. I zipped it up. He would stay cosy in there against the warmth of my body, insulated from the bitterest of weather.

  I took some spare nappies, together with a bottle of water and some bread and cheese, packed into a small bag. That would do for me, and Milo was still on breast milk alone, so needed nothing else. I was enough for him. I was everything he needed.

  I looked out of the back door. The garden was dark and silent. Anyone could be out there, hiding in the bushes. I pulled the back door shut quietly, leaving it unlocked and crept silently through the kitchen and the passageway to the front door – I opened it and looked out into the street. The streetlamps cast soft pools of light onto the road and nearby front gardens. No movement, no sign of anyone about. My heart was thumping, Milo’s heart beating rapidly against mine. But he was safe. I would protect him, keep him safe always. No one could take him. I would die rather than let anyone steal him.

  I pulled the front door closed, hearing it lock with a soft click. We hurried eastwards towards the park. A cold wind was blowing. My arms around him kept him warm, peacefully sleeping. I heard the sound of a milk delivery van. It rounded the corner and stopped ahead of us. The milkman pulled two bottles out of a crate at the back and began walking up the driveway of the house to our right, the bottles clinking slightly in his grasp. He saw me.

  ‘Morning,’ he said, looking curiously at me.

  ‘Morning,’ I mumbled, and hurried on. I did not turn round.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Alison

  A part of me prayed that by the time I reached Lucy and Guy’s house all would be restored to normal, that she and Milo would have returned, or been found somewhere, safe and well. Where would she go? Cassie was an obvious choice, but Guy had spoken to her. I thought about Shelley. Might Lucy have taken Milo to see her? Guy met me at the front door and immediately enveloped me in a long embrace, rather than our usual brief hug. I looked up into his face hopefully.

  ‘No word yet,’ he said, reading my expression.

  ‘Have you tried phoning … Shelley?’

  ‘Yes, she hasn’t heard or seen anything. She’s really worried too.’

  He took my bag and I followed him into the kitchen. A uniformed female police officer sat at the table. Guy introduced her as Constable Bingham. He called me “Lucy’s adoptive mother”.

  ‘We’re searching all the likely places, anywhere familiar to Lucy, any locations with which she may have had connections. Photographs of her and the baby have been circulated in the local press, free papers and local TV stations. I know it’s terrible for you all waiting for news, but it’s all we can do at the moment,’ said Constable Bingham. She grasped my hand. My throat constricted. I tried to clear it.

  Guy made us all a cup of tea. I noticed his hands were shaking. He paced the floor.

  ‘It’s getting dark,’ he said, fretfully, pausing to look out of the glass door, which led into the garden. ‘I can’t bear to think of them spending another night outside. It’s so cold out there.’

  We sat in silence most of the
evening. The front doorbell rang at about eight. We all jumped in alarm and raced to the door. It was another police officer – a man this time, Constable Mason – who had come to relieve Constable Bingham. I accompanied her to the door. She clasped my arms and smiled at me.

  ‘Try not to worry too much,’ she said, her voice full of concern. ‘I’m sure they’ll be found soon, safe and well.’ A foolish assertion.

  ‘Thank you, Constable, but none of us can know that,’ I replied.

  I heated some tinned soup, but neither of us could eat more than a few spoonfuls. Constable Mason said he’d had his “tea” before starting his shift, but thanked me politely. He seemed a pleasant young man. My mind returned to the question of whether to submit myself to Shelley, and to Inspector Dempster.

  Perhaps I could raise it with Constable Mason? Perhaps the police ought to know the background to assist them in their search for Lucy and Milo? We were all sitting in the kitchen. I asked Guy to accompany me to the sitting room. He looked surprised, but picked up the telephone and followed me.

  ‘Guy, while we have this young policeman with us, I think it may be an opportunity to share with him the information about me removing Lucy from her original home and family …’

  ‘What?’ he said incredulously.

  ‘Well, surely the police here should be told something of Lucy’s … unusual history. They may want to contact the police in Riddlesfield. It may help them to find Lucy and Milo. I mean, what if she tried to take him there, for some reason … what if she tried to find her original home, and became lost … oh I don’t know, Guy, I just feel I should admit the truth to them.’

  ‘Absolutely not! Look, Alison, I really can’t think about this right now, but I know Lucy was adamant that she didn’t want to go public about it at this stage.’

  ‘But I think …’

  ‘It’s not about what you think. It’s about what Lucy wants. It would be terrible to start a process when she’s not even here – just another thing about which she’ll feel she’s lost control. Promise me you won’t speak to the policeman, or anyone, Alison. Our priority is finding Lucy and the baby, and for her to get better. Do you agree?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I agree to whatever you think is best.’

  ‘Now, it’s getting late. I’m going to get you a duvet and I want you to lie down here on the sofa. You look very tired. I’ll stay with the phone.’

  I knew there was no point in arguing, and in truth I was exhausted. I felt sure I would not be able to settle, but shortly after lying down I slipped into a deep sleep. When I woke, dawn was showing through the curtain. I staggered into the kitchen, where Guy was sitting slumped over the table, still clutching the phone. Constable Mason was sitting quietly in the corner. Guy sat up as I entered. His eyes were deeply shadowed. A dark growth of stubble covered his chin and hollow cheeks. He looked worn out.

  ‘I’ll make us some tea or coff—’ I began.

  At that moment, the phone rang. Guy leapt to his feet and picked it up. He pressed the speaker on.

  ‘Hello, Guy? It’s Cassie. Lucy’s here with me. She’s quite safe and Milo’s fine too …’

  Guy dropped the phone and collapsed on the floor, sobbing. He covered his face with his hands and leaned his back against the kitchen cupboard. Constable Mason and I jumped up and rushed to him.

  ‘Guy … Guy? Are you there? Did you hear me?’ Cassie’s voice filled the kitchen.

  He picked the phone up and took some deep breaths. ‘I’m here, Cassie. Thank God, thank God …’

  ‘Guy, Lucy wants to come home. I’m making her some hot food just now, and then I’ll bring them home …’

  ‘I can come and …’ began Guy.

  ‘No. You stay at home. Let the police know, and anyone else who needs to be told. We’ll be with you in about an hour.’

  ‘Oh Jesus … thank you, Cassie, thank you … Alison’s here too.’

  ‘Is she? OK, Guy, but I think it might be a good idea if Alison went home … if she wasn’t there. It’s just that Lucy’s very confused, very anxious about Milo. Maybe Alison could come back when Lucy’s feeling better …?’

  Guy looked at me, and I nodded my head vigorously to show I had heard and understood. It hurt to know I was thought to represent any sort of threat, but Lucy was clearly unwell, and delusional.

  ‘And, Guy?’ Cassie’s voice continued.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We spoke about the centre … the mother and baby unit? Lucy’s very, very scared, but she agrees it’s a good idea, for a while. She says she’ll go tomorrow with Milo, if you take them. OK?’

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  2008

  After Lucy and Milo had been in the specialist unit for six weeks, Guy suggested I return to visit them there. Lucy was already much better, much stronger than before. Guy had kept me informed regularly of her progress.

  It had touched me deeply to hear him talk of his relief at being reunited with Lucy and the baby, when Cassie had brought them home after their disappearance.

  ‘I was totally beside myself to see them here, safe and sound,’ he had told me on the phone. ‘It was so wonderful to be able to hug them both – I just didn’t want to let them go, ever again!’

  I could hear his voice breaking as tears had flowed – tears of joy, I suppose. He was never one with “macho” inhibitions about showing his feelings.

  * * *

  Guy met me at the station and we drove to the unit. It was a low-level modern development, built on the site of a demolished, former mental hospital. The building was light and airy, with pleasant gardens, where a few young women sat chatting, or playing with infants. The entire unit and its gardens were surrounded by a tall security fence. I had been surprised to see Guy ring at the entrance and announce who we were through an intercom. After a few moments a member of staff came and checked Guy’s identity card through the glass window of the door.

  ‘This is Lucy’s adoptive mother, Alison Brown,’ he said, and we were admitted.

  Guy showed me into Lucy’s room, where she was playing with Milo on the bed. A nurse sat near the door. Lucy got up, smiled, and embraced me – what joy. She looked pale and wan, but something of her old spark had returned. She suggested we all went to one of the small sitting rooms, and that I could give Milo his bottle if I wanted.

  ‘I would love to, Lucy, but aren’t you breastfeeding any longer?’

  ‘I’ve had to give up because of the anti-psychotic medication I’m on. It’s not safe for the baby.’

  It surprised me to hear her talk so openly of her condition. While Guy went to make Milo’s bottle and some tea for us, Lucy talked readily of how ill she had been.

  ‘I was so afraid. I don’t know why, but I was so sure Milo would be taken away, that someone wanted to steal him. I thought someone was watching the house, waiting for an opportunity. That’s why I had to take him away, to keep him safe. I left the back door open… to make it look as though we’d gone out that way, but actually I crept out of the front door. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. We wandered about for hours. It was so cold. We went into department stores and cafés to try to keep warm. I found women’s toilets where I could feed Milo without anyone noticing. After some time though, Milo was getting unhappy, he was crying, and I was so tired. So we headed for Cassie’s house.’

  ‘You poor girl.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to have worried Guy, and you. Cassie explained that it wasn’t true, that no one wanted to steal Milo. She told me my head was playing tricks on me, but at first it was hard to believe – I was so frightened.’

  ‘Well, you’d been under a lot of stress, and I know that was mainly my fault. It’s not surprising things got a bit mixed up in your mind.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum … I mean Alison. I didn’t want to worry everyone. I was just trying to do my best to look after Milo.’

  ‘I know you didn’t, dearest girl. No one looks after Milo better than you … and I would never do anything to
harm him or you in any way … not ever.’

  Now I was crying too, and poor little Milo, disturbed by the emotional atmosphere, joined in with loud wails.

  Guy came in with Milo’s bottle, and our tea. It was a great delight for me to hold his sturdy little body in my arms, and feel him relax as he drank hungrily, while gazing up into my face. His little hand reached up to touch my blouse and my face. I was overwhelmed by love for him, as long ago, I had been for his mother.

  * * *

  I learned that Lucy was being treated for what Guy called “her disturbed thoughts and beliefs” with a combination of close and understanding care, counselling, and some appropriate medication, all in a safe and sensitive environment. I was so, so thankful a place was available to her in this wonderful, specialised facility, now at such a critical time.

  The severity of Lucy’s problems highlighted to me just what a burden I must have placed on her, from the moment I took her from outside her original home as a tiny child. I have never been a great believer in the “subconscious” – yet now I wonder whether the trauma of her experiences in infancy – the sudden deprivation of her birth mother – may somehow have contributed to her recent problems, when she herself has become a mother.

  I will not try to excuse my actions, but I did genuinely believe that by taking her from such an impoverished life and family, I was providing her with improved circumstances. Instead, it appears that, unbeknown to me, and certainly unintentionally, I may have been imposing a nightmare on the one person I have loved, and continue to love, most in the world – my dearest Lucy. It had been clear to me for some time that I had to take action to relieve her of this burden – now I explained to Lucy and Guy just what I planned to do.

  ‘It’s made me so happy to see how much better, happier, and more settled you are – both of you … and I am infinitely thankful for the wonderful care you’ve received here. But I’m also aware that you should never have had to go through such trauma,’ I began.

  ‘Well, let’s not go back over old ground,’ said Guy. ‘Let’s look to the future …’