‘Yes, she was. From about six weeks old she slept all night most nights, except when she was teething or had the sniffles.’
‘So how old was she when you started on this place?’
‘Three months. And at first I was so tired I thought I’d bitten off more than I could chew. But I coped.’ Lowri smiled ruefully. ‘My father was convinced I wasn’t up to it, and I was determined to show him I could. And I have. It’s the ideal business to run with a baby, remember. And I’ve had Fran’s experience to lean on, and then we took on Jenny, which means I make a late start, take a long lunch hour with Rhosyn, and when she’s two she’ll go to nursery school—’
‘As young as that?’ he said, startled.
‘Oh, yes. It’s all fixed up. It’s a bit expensive, but it’s a Montessori-type school, where they have French lessons, and ballet, too, if you like, only it’s extra…’ Lowri trailed away, her eyes haunted.
Adam pushed the table away so he could take her in his arms. ‘We’ll get her back,’ he said hoarsely into her hair. ‘Only for God’s sake don’t look like that.’
They clung together convulsively then jumped apart as the phone rang, and kept on ringing at intervals all morning. First it was Geraint Morgan, then Sarah, then Alice Hawkridge, after which Inspector Cox reported that the police were doing house-to-house questioning in the area, showing Rhosyn’s photograph.
Jenny and Fran arrived early, asking what help was necessary, apart from manning the shop.
‘Stay up here while I go shopping,’ said Adam, and smiled at the amazement on Lowri’s face. ‘I didn’t bring any luggage, remember, I need some shirts and so on, and a razor.’
‘Don’t be long,’ said Lowri involuntarily, and flushed as he squeezed her hand.
‘Direct me to the nearest shop and I’ll be half an hour at the most.’
After he left practical Fran saw to the dishes, while Jenny apologised on Kay’s behalf yet again.
‘She asked to come and help today, but I knew that’s the last thing you’d want—’
‘Why?’ said Lowri. ‘For one thing I doubt you’ll get any customers for the crèche today after what’s happened. But if Kay wants to come and give a hand in the shop I think it’s a good idea. It’s Christmas Eve, remember. Besides,’ she added, pressing Jenny’s hand, ‘Kay will feel a lot better if she helps. It wasn’t her fault. I really don’t blame her—she wasn’t to know.’
Jenny hugged Lowri’s hand. ‘It’s so good of you. I’ll give her a ring right now.’
By the time Adam returned the shop was open and Jenny and a pathetically grateful Kay were manning it while Fran stayed with Lowri, her sane, practical presence doing a lot to keep her partner on an even keel.
Fran got up to let him in, smiling wrily at his load of packages. ‘Father Christmas, I presume! I’ll go down, then. Chin up, Lowri.’
When they were alone Lowri eyed the bags askance. ‘I thought you’d only gone to buy a shirt.’
‘I bought more than one, also the necessary equipment to shave, since your bathroom was innocent of razors—’
‘I’ve got a little electric thing you could have used if you’d asked.’ Lowri peered into a large carrier bag. ‘And this is full of food!’ she said accusingly.
‘There isn’t much in your kitchen,’ he pointed out.
‘I know. I haven’t done much shopping lately because we—we were going away tonight—’ Lowri turned away, determined not to cry. ‘I’ll put this stuff away. You can use my bedroom to change.’
‘Sorry I was so long, by the way,’ he said as he picked up the bags. ‘My favourite caterer’s foodhall was like a rugby scrum. Good thing I was there as they opened. But at least I got most of my shopping done under one roof.’
Lowri managed a smile. ‘Do you usually wear chain-store shirts?’
‘All the time,’ he lied shamelessly. ‘How about some coffee?’
Business downstairs was brisk all morning; not in the crèche, as expected, but otherwise the shop was busy. There were a few curious people eager to see the bereft mother, Fran reported, but there were a lot of genuine customers hunting for last-minute bargains; also some of their regular customers had come in, eager to offer sympathy. Two of these had given valuable information about the elderly lady seen taking a young child into a car. One young woman remembered the make of the car, and the other described the yellow wind cheater the child was wearing, also the obvious difficulty the woman had in fastening the little girl into the car seat.
‘At least she had Rhosyn safe in a proper seat,’ said Lowri, determined to be positive.
Fran nodded. ‘Which means she’ll be taking care of Rosie properly. By the way,’ she added as she went to the door, ‘I’ve had a couple of offers for the rocking horse. I turned them down, of course.’
‘I should hope so,’ retorted Lowri, avoiding Adam’s eye.
The morning seemed endless, though to the impartial onlooker the scene was oddly domesticated as Adam read the newspaper he’d brought and Lowri dealt with the large basket of ironing she was never without. They drank endless cups of coffee, but neither of them had any appetite for the cookies and buns Adam had bought earlier, though Fran and her cohorts were grateful for them as lunchtime approached, as none of the three would hear of leaving the shop for lunch or any other reason.
Phone calls kept coming in, some of them with sympathy from local business people, others from Sarah and Holly, both of them unable to wait in silence for news, and towards midday Alice Hawkridge rang again, and after a brief conversation with her son this time asked to speak to Lowri.
‘I just wanted to say I’m praying for you—hard,’ said Adam’s mother firmly. ‘And I’ve told Adam he’s to try and get you to eat.’
Lowri managed a little laugh. ‘He does that constantly. He’s been quite overbearing about it.’
There was a pause. ‘Try not to be too hard on him, my dear.’
‘Mrs Hawkridge, if—no, when I get Rhosyn back I don’t think I’ll ever be hard on anyone again for the rest of my life!’
‘Then I’ll pray even harder. And now I’ll ring off to keep your line free.’
Lunchtime came and went, by which time Adam had given up all attempt to make Lowri eat. As time passed she became more and more tense, finding it hard to make any attempt at conversation, and Adam, in no better state, gave up trying to lighten her mood. Suddenly, halfway through the afternoon, Lowri buried her head in her hands and gave way to bitter tears, and Adam seized her and rocked her in his arms. When she raised a swollen, tear-stained face to his at last, Adam kissed her quivering mouth gently and smoothed her hair back from her damp forehead.
‘Don’t give up, Lowri.’
She detached herself and sat up straight. ‘Sorry. It just came over me in a wave all of a sudden. I must look a fright. I’ll go and do something to myself.’
When she returned, with a touch of make up on her newly washed face, Adam eyed her in approval.
‘That’s my girl.’ He bit his lip at her quizzical look. ‘Purely a figure of speech, Lowri.’
‘Of course.’ She gave a determined little smile. ‘No more tears, I promise. I don’t usually cry much, you know.’
‘No,’ said Adam bluntly, ‘I don’t know. You never gave me the chance to find out.’
‘True.’ For some reason she felt in command of herself again. ‘Now I think I could manage one of those buns you bought—’ She broke off as the phone rang and raced out of the room to answer it.
‘Miss Morgan? Cox here.’
‘Inspector! Any news?’
‘Don’t get your hopes too high, but it’s possible I might have. If we come round now we can take you to an address we’ve been given.’
Lowri gasped. ‘You’ve found Rhosyn? Where is she? Who’s got her ?’
‘Miss Morgan, calm down. We don’t know anything concrete yet. But we need you with us to identify a child.’
Lowri went cold, sagging against Adam. ‘Ide
ntify? What are you saying?’
‘Nothing sinister. This child we’ve heard about is alive and well, I promise you. But I must stress that there’s no guarantee that it’s your child.’
As Lowri put the phone down Adam grabbed her hands. ‘Well?’ he demanded, his eyes blazing in his haggard face.
‘They’re coming to collect me—’
‘You’re not going without me!’
She nodded impatiently. ‘Of course not!’ She repeated Inspector Cox’s news. ‘He sounded a bit cagey— doesn’t want to commit himself. Will you tell the girls?’
Adam raced down to the shop, then came back up the stairs two at a time and grabbed Lowri to him. ‘Don’t build too much on this, darling!’
‘How can I not?’ she said wildly, then breathed in deeply and pulled herself together. ‘You’re right, of course. But it’s so hard, Adam.’
‘Bloody hard!’ He held her coat for her. ‘Put a scarf on, or something. It’s cold out there.’
When Sergeant Boyce came to collect them Lowri and Adam were in the hall, waiting, Lowri still as a statue, Adam pacing up and down like a caged tiger.
‘Not far to go,’ Inspector Cox assured them as they joined him in the car. ‘The message came from one of those pricey flats in Gloucester Place.’
‘Do you think it’s Rhosyn?’ said Adam urgently, before Lowri could speak.
‘The man who rang thinks it is. He sounded in a bit of a state. Just asked me to come as quickly as possible. We’ll soon see.’
When the car drew up outside a block of imposing luxury flats Adam helped Lowri out, keeping his arm about her as they went up in a lift with the inspector. In tense silence they went out into a hall where the inspector rang the bell of one of the four doors leading off it.
A haggard man opened the door to admit them, looking utterly distraught. Inspector Cox introduced himself and his companions.
‘My name’s Charles Blanchard,’ the man said as he showed them into a comfortably furnished room overlooking well-tended gardens. ‘Could I just explain a little before you see the baby? She’s perfectly safe, I swear.’ He looked from Lowri to Adam despairingly. ‘I can’t apologise enough for what’s happened. I can hardly take it in—I arrived only a short time ago to fetch my mother to spend Christmas with us. I’d seen the photographs of the missing baby on television last night, so you can imagine my horror when my mother handed the very same child over to me, saying she’d found the perfect Christmas present for us.’
‘Please, Mr Blanchard, don’t keep me in suspense,’ broke in Lowri, unable to bear it a moment longer. ‘Where is my baby?’
‘I’ll take you to her now,’ said Charles Blanchard in quick remorse. ‘She fell asleep, so I asked a neighbour to sit with her while I made arrangements for my mother—who’s in a state of mental collapse. She’s been hospitalised. Her doctor went with her, and I’ll follow on once everything’s sorted out here. Forgive me, but it’s been hell on wheels this last hour or two. Will you come this way?’
Adam’s grasp was cruelly tight on Lowri’s hand as they followed Charles Blanchard to a small room where an elderly woman rose quickly from beside the cot, the sudden movement disturbing the sleeping child. The little girl’s swollen eyes opened, then lit up like stars at the sight of her mother.
‘Mum-mum-mum-mum!’ cried Rhosyn, stretching up her arms, and Lowri swept her up in a fierce embrace, rubbing her cheek over and over again against the small head, hardly able to believe she had her baby safe. Then Adam’s arms closed round them both, confirming beyond all doubt that this was actually happening, that the nightmare was really over.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS late that night when Rhosyn was finally, happily asleep in her own cot again. All the jubilant, thankful phone calls had been made and interviews given to the local television news team as well as a perky young cub reporter from the Pennington Weekly Chronicle.
‘Won’t come out until next week,’ said the young man cheerfully, ‘but it’ll still be good news. Just the stuff for the festive season.’
Fran, Jenny and Kay went home by taxi at last, all three of them jubilant, and intoxicated more by thankfulness and sheer fatigue than the champagne Adam bought to celebrate Rhosyn’s return.
The feisty little girl recovered from her adventure with remarkable speed, other than a tendency to cling round her mother’s neck now and again, and responded to Adam’s subtle advances with a flirtatious enthusiasm he all too plainly found irresistible. By the time her baby daughter had played with all her familiar toys, and had been bathed and fed and cuddled to sleep, Lowri felt exhausted, the adrenaline deserting her in a rush once the flat was quiet and she was alone with Adam.
Adam looked at his watch. ‘It’s late. I’d better make a move—’
‘You’re not driving back to London at this time of night?’ said Lowri in dismay. ‘You haven’t eaten, and there was the champagne—’
‘Only one glass, Lowri,’ he said brusquely, not looking at her. ‘Besides, I don’t have much alternative. It’s Christmas Eve, remember. There’ll be no room at the inn locally at such short notice.’
‘But you can sleep here! There’s a single bed in Rhosyn’s room. I’ll take that and you can have mine.’ Lowri put out a hand in entreaty, finding she hated the thought of being alone. ‘Couldn’t you drive back to London in the morning? Please? You can still be with your mother in good time for lunch.’
Adam looked at her long and hard. ‘Why, Lowri? Is this a need for my company, ‘or a simple dislike of solitude after all you’ve been through?’
‘Some of both,’ she said honestly, and smiled in entreaty. ‘Now the holiday plans are changed I thought perhaps you’d like to see Rhosyn open her Christmas stocking in the morning before we set off—’
‘In different directions,’ said Adam expressionlessly and put out a hand to turn her face up to his. ‘Does this mean you’ve had a change of heart, Lowri?’
‘As far as you and Rhosyn are concerned, yes.’
‘But nothing more than that.’
Lowri met his eyes squarely. ‘No other change of heart, certainly.’
‘You mean you still hate the sight of me,’ he said bitterly.
‘You know that’s not true!’
‘Do I?’
They looked at each other in silence, then Lowri pocketed her pride. ‘Please stay, Adam. I can’t bear the thought of being alone tonight. I badly need someone to talk to until this feeling of helplessness recedes a bit.’
He smiled mirthlessly. ‘You’re honest.’
‘You bought a lot of food and we’ve hardly eaten any of it. And there’s some champagne left. Let’s have a meal and celebrate Rhosyn’s return together.’
‘Put like that, how can I refuse?’
Lowri smiled at him with radiant gratitude. ‘You listen for Rhosyn,’ she ordered. ‘I’ll throw something together in the kitchen.’
‘Can I help?’
‘I’ll manage better on my own—’ She caught herself up, flushing.
‘As usual!’
Lowri retreated hurriedly, and shut herself in the kitchen, away from the searching eyes that had haunted her dreams so often during the long, lonely months of their estrangement.
Half an hour later she called him to the small table she’d set with a checked cloth and red candles in saucers wreathed with holly. She’d cooked rice, concocted a tomato sauce fragrant with herbs and garlic and added the king prawns Adam bought to it, defrosted a loaf of wholemeal bread and accompanied it with a slab of her favourite Caerphilly cheese to complete the line-up. Adam exclaimed in surprise as she showed him to his chair with a flourish. ‘Impressive—and fast!’
‘I aim to please,’ she said demurely.
‘Not always—’ he began, then threw up a hand in apology. ‘Sorry. Tonight let’s just forget certain bits of the past and concentrate on the pleasanter aspects of our relationship.’
‘Right,’ said Lowri quickly, not su
re this was too wise a move. For her some of the most memorable and blissful time had been spent in his bed, a thought which struck Adam simultaneously she suspected, as colour rose along his cheekbones.
‘This is wonderful,’ he said, mouth full, and smiled across the candle-flames at her. ‘Until this minute I didn’t know I was starving.’
‘Me too,’ she agreed, and for a while there was a companionable silence while they tucked into the meal. But a little later, once the first edge was off her appetite, Lowri gave a sigh. ‘I can’t help feeling sorry for that poor woman, you know.’
‘Mrs Blanchard?’ said Adam, and nodded gravely. ‘I know. She’s obviously mentally disturbed, and now Rhosyn’s safe it’s difficult to condemn her. In her own mind she was just giving her son the one Christmas present he and his wife wanted most.’
‘Poor thing. I keep seeing that little room with the cot and those toys—it was heartbreaking.’
While Lowri was dressing Rhosyn Adam had been present when the police questioned Charles Blanchard, who said that his mother had suffered a nervous breakdown after the death of his father a few months previously. He’d genuinely believed she was fully recovered, and blamed himself bitterly for letting his mother know when his wife miscarried a few weeks earlier. Charles Blanchard was the father of two healthy sons, Lowri learned to her relief, but admitted that his mother had a fixation about a granddaughter, never dreaming she’d take matters into her own hands to provide one by such disastrous means.
‘A pity the police had to be involved,’ said Lowri with regret.
‘If they hadn’t been, Blanchard wouldn’t have seen Rhosyn’s photograph. But at least there’s no question of his mother being charged, now Blanchard’s committed her to proper professional care.’
‘Poor woman,’ Lowri sighed. ‘And all this happened just because I went out for balloons. Fran says she must have been in the store-room getting out more shoes for the child she was fitting, which is why no one noticed when Rhosyn was spirited away. My daughter thought it was one big game, probably.’
‘Perhaps it was fate,’ commented Adam, pouring the last of the champagne into their glasses.
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