by Anita Waller
‘And you said nothing?’ Doris looked concerned.
‘I thought it was these Braxton Hicks things they talk about. It didn’t occur to me it could be the real thing, it’s too early.’
‘Ring the hospital, Mouse. Tell them we’re bringing her in now. Her waters have broken, and the contractions seem to be about two minutes apart.’
Mouse picked up the phone, and Doris stroked Kat’s hand.
‘Don’t worry, lovely, you’ll be fine, and we’ll have our new baby very soon. Is your bag ready?’
Kat nodded again. ‘In the hall, ready to go.’
Leon missed seeing the car as it hurtled through the village centre, Doris driving, Kat and Mouse on the back seat, with Kat on a mound of towels and emitting the occasional moan as another contraction washed over her.
Seeing Kat so heavily pregnant had changed all his plans; his intention had been to enter the house when he saw all three women at work in Connection, get the substantial amount of money, the gun and ammunition he had stashed away under the floorboards in the summer house, pick up the last of his clothes and disappear.
And then he saw the nursery.
His temporary camp in the pharmacy attic wasn’t practical in any sort of long term; he was living off the out of date items still left as stock in the shop, but he had envisioned that situation as being for a couple of days at the most, then he would disappear for ever.
He knew the baby was his. Disappearing was no longer a choice, not until he had met his child and made decisions about the child’s future.
Several things happened during a two-hour time frame that afternoon; an aeroplane landed at Manchester airport returning two unknowing brand new grandparents, Enid and Victor Silvers, back to home soil, Leon and Kat Rowe became first time parents, Doris Lester and Mouse Walters held Kat as she delivered her baby, and Martha May Rowe, tiny at six and a half pounds, entered all their lives and was immediately loved.
3
Enid and Victor stared down at the tiny sleeping baby.
‘Well,’ Enid whispered, ‘I thought this day would never come. She’s perfect.’
Her husband put his arm around her shoulders. ‘I hope you’ll still think that when you start your child-minding duties in a few weeks.’
‘Of course I will. I’ve waited so long for this. I’m happy to help out, as you know. You are on board with that, aren’t you?’
Victor smiled down at his Martha. ‘Oh aye,’ he said, ‘aye, I am.’
Kat was unsure what to do about telling Alan and Sue in Canada. They had every right to know they had a granddaughter, but if they were in any sort of contact with Leon…
‘What shall I do, Nan?’
‘I don’t know, sweetie. It’s a hard one. But if Leon is keeping an eye on you, and we know he is, eventually he’s going to see you pushing a pram instead of looking like a whale, and he’ll know he’s a daddy. I think you have to tell them.’
‘I think I knew that anyway.’ Kat’s tone was rueful. ‘I’ll ring them and get it over with, but ask them if they are in touch with Leon, not to say anything. It’s all I can do. It will be up to them whether they respect my wishes or not.’
She looked at the phone as though it was something from another planet that would kill her if she touched it. She sighed deeply and picked up the receiver.
‘Sue, it’s Kat.’
Mouse had left everyone cooing over the baby. She put in the satnav co-ordinates for the house in Bradwell she needed to visit, and drove out of Eyam, enjoying the sunshine that still didn’t have much heat to it but always managed to lift Derbyshire to a whole new level.
She didn’t miss living in the industrial city of Sheffield at all, couldn’t imagine living anywhere else but her beautiful new flat. She owed a lot of her peace of mind to her nan, but felt a sense of dread that Leon Rowe was clearly back on the scene. Her biggest concern was that he had seen the nursery, and knowing he was no idiot, she guessed he had put two and two together.
The baby’s arrival added to all their worries, and she knew that Kat would be filling her parents in at the moment, explaining what had happened while they were soaking up the sunshine on the recent holiday.
She drove over the bridge marking the entrance to Bradwell village, and listened to her satnav’s disembodied voice.
The house she was seeking proved to be very near to the sixteenth century inn, Ye Old Bowling Green, and she smiled. Every place a winner in Derbyshire.
She sat for a moment and looked at the house. A pretty stone-built cottage with a tiny front garden bursting with springtime flowers, it looked loved and lived in. She took a deep breath before getting out of the car; back to work, forget newborn babies and problems arising from that.
Alice Small opened the door; her smile looked slightly forced.
‘Mrs Small?’ Mouse held her ID card in front of her. ‘I’m Beth Walters. Thank you for agreeing to see me.’
‘Come in, Miss Walters.’ Alice held the door open.
The house was so like how Mouse imagined a cottage to be, it brought an instant smile to her face. ‘Oh, this is lovely. And please call me Beth.’
‘Thank you. It’s taken me a couple of years to get it how it always was in my imagination, but I think I’m there now. Please, come through to the lounge.’
Alice indicated that Mouse should sit in the armchair, and Alice sat on the small sofa.
‘Now, how can I help with this crazy idea?’
‘You don’t agree with it?’
‘Tom’s dead, so it’s not him wanting to find his birth mother, it’s her. Judith.’
Mouse took out her iPad. ‘Do you mind if I make notes?’
‘Of course not, but I’m not sure if I know anything worth making notes about.’
‘I’m sure you will, probably without realising you do know something. Let’s start with Tom’s parents. I understand his mum, Margot, was your sister.’
This time the smile that lit up Alice’s face was genuine. ‘She was. She was ten years younger than me, would have been seventy this year. Same age as James. They both died nine years ago, in the same year. It very nearly broke Tom. He adored them, and I think it’s why he didn’t try to find his birth mother, not at that time anyway. He and Judy had discussed tracing her, and he had said one day he would do it.’
‘What do you mean? Did he try? And you’re eighty?’ Mouse’s face reflected her shock. She hoped she looked as good when she reached four-score.
There was a long hesitation. Slowly, Alice spoke. ‘He applied for his birth certificate and his adoption pack. He did it as soon as he found out he had cancer, way before he knew it was terminal. He came here one day with a folder and asked if I would save it for him, he didn’t want Judy to see it before he had something concrete to tell her.’ Alice smiled. ‘And yes, I am eighty. I keep myself fit.’
‘Why didn’t he want Judy to know?’
‘The marriage was going sour. I know they would have split up, but that terminal diagnosis changed everything. He more or less decided to put up and shut up. It saved having to divide everything, saved having to sell their beautiful house in Hope, she just had everything when he died. After they told him there was no long term future, he only lived four months or so.’
‘And you still have that folder?’
Alice nodded. ‘I do, along with his tiny silver cross and chain his birth mother gave him. He gave it to me when he knew he was dying.’
Mouse sat, digital pencil in hand, hardly daring to breathe. Would Alice say she couldn’t see the paperwork? She briefly wrote on her iPad, words that made no sense but served to diffuse the tension inside her.
‘Would it be possible to see the file?’ Mouse held her breath.
Again there was a long pause, as if Alice was going over thoughts she must have been having ever since Mouse had rung to make the appointment.
Suddenly she spoke. ‘I know Katerina Rowe, your business partner. And because I know her, I’m going to
let you see it. You can’t take it away, but I assume that fancy gadget can take photos?’
‘It can. And I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know Kat had a little girl yesterday, Martha May. They’re both home now.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful. I have a little gift for her that you can take when you leave. She’s led many services at our church, a lovely lady, far too good for that thug she accidentally married. They caught him yet?’
‘Not as far as we know.’ Mouse smiled.
Alice stood. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘That would be lovely, thank you.’
Alice went out of the room, and Mouse heard the cold water run. The sunlight had moved around slightly and was coming through the leaded windows, lighting up the interior. Alice had used a subdued chintz, perfectly in keeping with the furniture. The inglenook fireplace was welcoming, and as Mouse watched a log crumbled and dropped. She desperately wanted to place another log on the fire, never having had the opportunity before, and giggled to herself at the thought. Pyromania, that was the word for it.
Alice returned to the lounge bearing a bread board with buttered scones, and Mouse stared at it. ‘Is that a mouse carved into it?’
‘It is. It’s a Robert Thompson. He carved a mouse into all his work, and I’m lucky enough to own one.’
‘It’s my name, I’ve been called Mouse all my life. Apparently I looked like a little mouse when I was born, and the name stuck. My nan and Kat always call me Mouse, and I expect I’ll be Aunty Mouse to Martha.’
‘You are clearly loved then. Tom was a very much loved and wanted child. James and Margot couldn’t have children, adoption was their only option. He was just six weeks old when he came to live with them.’
Mouse waited, sensing there was more to be said.
‘Margot died from a heart attack, but James had already been diagnosed with lung cancer before she went. He lived an extra six months. It devastated Tom, but I always felt Judy didn’t really support him. They seemed to live separate lives, and after Tom died I honestly didn’t expect to hear from her again. Why is she doing this, Beth? Do you know? She didn’t care two hoots when he was alive, and now she’s fulfilling his last wish. If it was.’
‘That’s exactly what she said when we agreed to take the job, that it was Tom’s wish she track his mother down. Did you know his birth mother? I know in the sixties they used to arrange private adoptions.’
‘No, and even though I know her name, it doesn’t ring any bells with me. Her address is on Tom’s birth certificate, but she doesn’t live there now. Her birth certificate is in there, too. Tom obviously intended finding her, because he would have applied for a copy of that, it wouldn’t have come as part and parcel of the adoption pack.’
Alice stood and walked to the small sideboard that fitted perfectly into the alcove. She took out the folder, and passed it to Mouse.
‘You can photograph whatever you need, but I would prefer to hang on to the originals. It’s all I have of Tom. Judy never asked me if I would like anything to remember him by, and I was too stubborn to ask. Inside the folder is a copy of a photograph of Tom, taken a couple of years ago. You can take that with you. You may need it when you find his birth mother.’
‘Of course I won’t remove the originals and thank you so much for the photo,’ Mouse said. She took the folder and pulled out the documents tucked neatly inside.
‘I’ll get our cups of tea,’ Alice said. ‘And please help yourself to a scone. You’ll need to build up your strength with a new baby to be an aunty to.’
She returned with the drinks. ‘Tom was very good to me,’ she confided. ‘A friend of mine died, a friend who lived here, and I had always loved this little cottage. I had enough money to buy it outright because it was very run down, needed lots doing to it. I was living in a rented property, so it made sense to buy this, and do the repairs as time went on, but Tom paid for everything that needed doing, and six months after I bought it, I had this.’ She waved her arm around. ‘Since then I’ve added the little extras, and I love it here. And of course I was only five minutes away from Tom and Judy’s house.’ A look of sadness crossed Alice’s face. ‘I miss him so much.’
Mouse didn’t pause to read any of the documents; that would be a job for later. She laid them one by one on the coffee table, and photographed each piece with the iPad.
She snapped everything, even the little envelope addressed To my darling son, Thomas Edward. Inside the envelope had been a letter written by the birth mother, but Mouse knew if she read it she would end up crying. Best to leave it until later, when she was with people who understood her occasional tears. She placed the photo of the remarkably handsome man in her document case.
The scone was on a par with one of Nan’s scones, and after finishing her tea Mouse stood to take her leave.
‘Thank you so much for all of this, Mrs Small.’
‘It’s Alice,’ the elderly lady said with a smile. ‘And if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ring me. I felt very antagonistic towards you when you arrived, thought you would be on Judy’s side, but you’ve been impartial, and extremely pleasant.’ She handed Mouse a carrier bag. ‘This is the little gift I’ve made for baby Martha, and please congratulate Katerina for me.’
Mouse took the bag. ‘I most certainly will. If you think of anything else, no matter how insignificant, please ring me. I’ve left my card on your coffee table. Just so you know, I won’t be telling Judy I’ve seen you. We don’t make a point of telling our clients how we get information. They only pay us to get it.’
Alice nodded. ‘Thank you. I understand what you’re saying.’
Alice remained in the doorway until the big car disappeared around the bend. The afternoon had gone much better than she expected; she hadn’t wanted any of this to happen, but Judy had taken it out of her hands. Damn the woman. She should have been the one to die, not her husband.
4
Mouse glanced at her watch, and made the decision to call into the shop and print out the pictures from her iPad. If baby Martha gave them a quarter of an hour break at some point during the evening, they could all look at them and discuss the next move.
She pulled up outside Connection, raised the shutter and let herself in through the front door, stopping the alarm before it woke the neighbourhood. Locking the door behind her, she downloaded and printed all of the pictures, knowing Kat found it easier to view a piece of paper rather than a computer screen. The thought made Mouse smile, as it had done so often since she had met the church deacon. Dinosaur Kat.
Mouse put the pictures into three cardboard files, and reset the alarm before going outside to lock up and lower the shutters. She turned to go to the car and shivered. ‘Get off my grave,’ she grumbled. She looked around, aware of the ever-present Leon threat and almost wishing he was standing by her side; her shoulder no longer pained her and her fitness was at Wonder Woman level. One day he would pay for injuring Kat… one day.
Mouse could see no one. In fact the centre of the village was remarkably quiet. She climbed into the car, and drove home, eager to tell her co-workers everything she had learned.
Leon watched her drive away, wondering where Kat and Doris were. They usually formed a coven of witches; it was rare to see Beth Walters on her own. He hated not having cohorts he could use to watch the three women, but with his henchman Brian locked up for life, and the entire business disbanded, he had no one he could trust to do anything.
Leon’s home in Spain was ready and waiting, he had collected everything he needed from his old home; he just needed to see this baby when it was born. A mixed-race child would prove its parentage, and he could then take steps accordingly. A white child, and he could walk away.
Mouse opened the front door quietly and stepped into the hall. Silence. She looked into the lounge and then walked through to the kitchen. Deserted. Still keeping noise to a minimum, she headed upstairs. She tapped softly on her nan’s door, and opened it. Doris was
asleep on the bed. Mouse smiled, and backed out.
Kat’s bedroom door was open, and she was also asleep, her hand tucked in between the bars of Martha’s crib, holding her daughter’s tiny fingers. Martha’s delicate coffee-coloured skin was a stark contrast to Kat’s.
Mouse slipped her phone out of her jeans pocket and took a picture. It was stunningly beautiful.
She headed back downstairs and placed the files on the table. Time enough to look at them when her two sleeping beauties woke. She pulled her laptop towards her, and began to search.
Kat wrapped a towel around her wet hair, checked on her sleeping child as she went past the bedroom, and headed downstairs. She smiled as she saw Mouse. ‘I needed that sleep. And I feel better for having a shower. I’d feel really good with a cup of tea inside me,’ she said with a grin.
‘Your wish is my command,’ Mouse responded.
‘Oooh, that would be nice.’ The voice of Doris travelled as a whisper down the stairs.
They sat around the kitchen table engrossed in the files Mouse had prepared, each having individual thoughts and making notes on the documents.
Kat sighed. ‘What a brave woman. I can’t imagine having to give Martha away, and yet she was forced by narrow-minded parents to give Tom up. She had already bonded very strongly because she called him Tommy, although she used both his forenames on the envelope. I’m really pleased Margot and James respected her wishes and kept his name, it was obviously important to her. It makes me wonder why, in view of the letter she wrote to Tom. Did she have a boyfriend, maybe?’
Without lifting her head, Mouse spoke. ‘Will you put Leon’s name on Martha’s birth certificate?’
‘I have six weeks before I need to do anything,’ Kat replied. ‘It seems that I can’t put his name on unless he’s there, and that’s not going to happen, is it.’