by N V Peacock
Gripping Robin, I stand up. ‘We’re leaving now.’
Jon sighs and moves out of my way. Mariah shrieks and reaches for Robin with desperate, flailing limbs; trying to grasp any part of my son that she can lay her thieving hands on.
Staring at the floor, Jon holds her back.
‘No, she’ll hurt him.’ Mariah reaches out to Robin again. ‘If he stays with her, he’ll become a monster.’ She pleads to Jon. He gives her no reaction, so she turns wildly back to me and says, ‘Your son will be another Mr Bones. With us, he’s fine, but with you, he’ll change.’ Looking back to Jon she pleads, ‘Make her leave him here with us. It’s best for everyone.’
I imagined when I was face to face with Robin’s abductor, I would see red. Violence would erupt from me like a broken water pipe, drowning anyone foolish enough to cross its stream. Nevertheless, it doesn’t. I do not need Little Bones here. Robin is safe.
I step closer to Mariah, Robin monkey-hugging my chest. Looking down at her, I say, ‘I’m sorry your daughter died, but you can’t have my son.’
‘You don’t deserve him; you’re a monster,’ Mariah splutters through anguished sobs.
‘You have put me through a living nightmare. I came to you for help. You fed me false leads and lies. You’re the monster.’
‘Don’t speak to my wife like that.’ Jon focuses his hard eyes on me.
‘Why don’t you go put your skeleton costume back on and try your luck with another kid?’
‘You were too busy on your phone to watch over your son. It was easy for me to take him. Swap his jacket, dump the red one, and walk him back to the car. If you’d been watching him, you wouldn’t have lost him.’
‘Fuck you!’ I spit.
Robin cringes into me. I force myself to calm down. I don’t want the situation to escalate, but I might not have a choice.
‘He was perfect,’ Mariah whines. ‘He’s so special.’ Composing her sobs, Mariah looks at my son. ‘Aren’t you, baby? You’re Mummy’s special boy. My little bird.’
Shielding Robin from her craziness, I ease past them to stand on the landing. I feel Robin go to speak in my arms. He’ll be kind to her; that’s who he is. Fortunately, it’s not who I am.
‘Don’t you ever call yourself mother to my son. I am his mum, I’m all he needs. The only thing you’re right about is that he is special. But he will never be a monster.’
‘With you, he will.’ She looks up with big wet eyes, a broken woman losing another child.
‘You pretend to be a psychic. You pretend to help people. You take their money and sell them lies. You’re evil.’ I walk backwards as I say this. When I see the railing for the stairs, I stop.
They both fall silent. I wait for retaliation with either words or fists. When I get neither, I carefully make my way down the stairs, out of their house, to my car.
While Mariah wails for her latest lost child, I help Robin into the car. Those bastards were moving house. They would have gotten away with taking my son if I hadn’t come here this morning. For all my detective skills, dumb luck got me here in time.
I slide into the driver’s seat and lock the doors. Robin’s little fingers grip on to mine.
‘Jon took me from the fair. He was the skeleton from the Ghost Train,’ he says.
‘I know. Why did you go with him, sweetie?’
‘He told me you and Dad were hurt. That you asked them to look after me. I said Gran would take me, but they said she was too old. The next day they said you both died.’
‘They lied, sweetie. We’re fine. They wanted to take you for themselves.’
‘They were nice to me. Most of the time, I liked them.’ Robin looks down at his bare feet and flexes his little toes.
‘I’m happy they were nice to you, but they did something wrong.’ Starting the car, I look over to him. ‘It’s okay now. You’re okay. I found you.’ After the words leave my lips, my hands leap up to cover my face. I count to three and open my eyes. He’s still there, grinning at me.
Robin squeezes my hand. ‘I never believed you were dead. Nostrom said you were okay, but that I shouldn’t try to escape, just in case they hurt me. He can be cautious, but that’s robots for you.’ He beams a killer smile up at me. I have to reach over to touch his cheek, to double-check he’s real, that I’ve not fallen asleep and am dreaming this happy ending.
Driving home, I look over at Robin every chance I get. I still can’t believe he’s sat next to me now, after all this – healthy and safe.
As I pull up into our drive, Robin flicks off his seatbelt and launches himself towards the front door.
Leo must have been watching for me as he runs out to meet us. He drops to his knees and sweeps Robin into his arms, breathing him in.
Now I know for sure this is really happening.
Chapter 40
The police come to the house and interview Robin and me. They tell me Oscar went into the police station. Apparently, he was with a loud pregnant girl who demanded they drop all charges against me for breaking into Greer’s house.
DC Kimmings and DC Steadman ask several annoying questions about how I found Robin. How I knew Mariah and Jon, and why I didn’t call the police if I suspected the psychics of a crime. I shrug my shoulders at every question, my eyes never leaving my son, who sits at our dining room table showing DCI Jeddick his robot costume.
Four hours later, Leo shuffles them all out of the door. I’m alone with my family.
I call everyone, including Mrs Duffill, and tell them Robin is back home and safe. I shoot off an email to the prison to tell Dad he helped find his grandson – without the call about the connections, or lack thereof, I might have never put it all together quick enough. In my mind, like everyone else’s, the Doncaster case and Robin were connected. He calls me later and asks me to visit soon. I’m so happy I even tell Robin he has a granddad who helped find him.
Two days fly by filled with visitors who want to see Robin; some even apologise for believing the worst about me. I should feel vindicated, but I don’t, those feelings are swallowed by the happiness of having Robin back.
We spend the rest of the week watching films and sleeping in a puppy pile together on the couch. Robin never leaving Leo’s eye line, or mine.
Strangely, my son is fine. He asks about Mariah and Jon as if they were his friends and had taken him on a weird holiday. He tells us they played games together, put cheese spread on his vegetables; they kept him safe. I don’t have the heart to say anything bad about his abductors; people so much worse could have taken my son.
The succession of well-wishers who come to my door are in equal amounts odd and unexpected. A loud Kylie along with a quiet Oscar. Gurpreet dragging along a red-faced Shania. Lawrence, who admits it was he who gave most of the money to the Dawson Food’s reward collection. Kristine, who apologises for thinking I’d hurt my son. Still, she does it in the most condescending way possible. Tracy and her gran who bring home-cooked meals. The most surprising person though, is Mr Dawson.
When I open the door and see him, a big part of me wants to slam it back in his face. Instead, I ask, ‘What are you doing here?’ I don’t let him in. People who fire me get to stay on the doorstep.
‘I’m sorry about everything.’
‘Are you offering me my job back?’
‘No.’
It’s the worst apology I’ve ever heard. ‘Then our business here is done.’ I go to close the door.
‘Wait!’ His shoulders slump. ‘Dawson’s Food went into administration yesterday.’
Tracy was right. The rumours were true.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ It surprises me that I mean those words. I knew I’d miss working there, yet it feels worse knowing the shop will no longer exist.
‘I stalled your P45, which means this is yours.’ Mr Dawson gives me an envelope. ‘It’s your redundancy money. I hope it helps. I’m glad your son is safe.’ He forces a weak smile before leaving.
I open the envelope
to find a cheque for £20,000. Much more than standard redundancy pay. I stand still in the doorway and realise that, just for this moment, all my worries are gone. Everyone knows my identity, and I’ve not been run out of town with torches and pitchforks. Robin is safe. The police haven’t pursued any charges against me. I have enough money to be a full-time mum for a little while. I’ve never felt like this before. Free.
‘Cherrie, Patricia is on the phone!’ Leo calls out.
I close the front door, then walk back into my living room to see Leo alone on the couch.
‘Where’s Robin?’
‘He’s playing with Nostrom upstairs. They’re making a list of everything they want for Christmas.’ Leo smiles.
‘Cherrie, I’m glad you’re there. I was just updating Leo on Robin’s case,’ Patricia says over the speakerphone.
I sit down and wait for her to say why she rang. Crap, perhaps they’re summoning me back to the station.
‘Jon and Frances Conway have been arrested.’
‘Who’s Frances?’
‘She went by the name of Mariah.’
How apt – she’d changed her name too. ‘What happened to their little girl?’
‘Sarah Conway was killed in a traffic accident last year. Frances thought Robin was in danger with you. That’s why they took him.’
‘He’s not in danger with me. How many times do I have to say it?’
‘Neither were thinking straight. They were insane with grief over losing their child. Jon listened to the podcast about you and Mr Bones. When you visited them, they saw your name on the consent form and recognised you. When you told them you had a son, they were convinced something bad would happen to him if he stayed with you.’
‘So the cases you were looking at, they weren’t connected? Harry Doncaster killed his brother Thomas for a pair of trainers. Mariah and Jon took Robin to replace a dead daughter?’ I ask.
I hear her tut. ‘I can’t discuss other cases with you, but what you read in the papers is true, for once.’
‘Why did Mrs Doncaster write that stupid blog? Why’d she point a finger at Oscar Greer?’
Patricia sighs. ‘I’m not supposed to talk about open cases, Cherrie.’
I narrow my eyes. If Robin had killed his sibling, I’d want to protect him, at least keep the son I had left. ‘It was to draw attention away from Harry. She knew all along that Harry killed Thomas. Her perfect appeal was crap.’
‘I can’t confirm any of this.’
‘Wait, there were trainers on the table at the police station, when you were with Mrs Doncaster. They were Thomas’s, weren’t they? You found Harry had them – it’s why he ran.’ I’m not asking; he was wearing them when we met. Another realisation slams through my head. ‘Mariah said the Doncasters visited her too. She must have picked up on something they said. That’s how she knew Thomas’s body was shoeless.’ The realisation that Mariah was a fake, and that at my weakest I believed her lies, all the while she was the cause of my pain, makes me want to vomit up all the good thoughts I had about her; clearing my gut so I can trust it again in the future.
‘Cherrie, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, but if you’d like to come down to the station to give a statement …’
‘No! I’ve had enough of the police station,’ I say.
‘Thank you for your help,’ Leo suddenly says to her. I should say it too, yet I can’t quite get those words out. I found Robin, they didn’t.
As we hang up the phone, I realise I’ll never see, or hear from, Patricia again; I’m good with that.
Sighing, I reach for the TV remote. ‘Shall we watch the DIY thing you like?’
My boyfriend cocks his head. ‘No, how about the medical thing you’ve been watching?’
‘Grey’s Anatomy?’
Leo laughs. ‘You’re kidding, right? That’s what it’s called?’
‘Yeah, what’s wrong with that?’
‘I can see the headline already; Little Bones’ favourite show is Grey’s Anatomy.’
‘Oh, perhaps we should watch something else.’
‘No, I want to see just how dreamy this McDreamy is.’
Hiding my blushes, I find the next episode.
Before I start the show, Leo blurts out, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t want to watch it?’ I press pause.
‘Not that. Just for a moment; I mean I thought it could have been you.’
I close my eyes. He’d said above all doubt to me; it was a lie, but I can’t blame him for that. ‘Yeah, you weren’t alone. I forgive you. It wasn’t a new feeling for me, being accused of crimes I didn’t commit.’
Leo’s arms snake about my waist. ‘Knowing your past and how tough you had it, I love you more now. And you found Robin. You kept your promise.’
‘It wasn’t just me; Dad helped. Also, never underestimate the power of sleep deprivation.’
‘None of that sounds helpful, but you can’t argue with results.’ He leans over and kisses my cheek. ‘Oh, wait; I have a surprise for you.’ Leo leads me to the dining room where my laptop is open on the table.
‘Log on to your emails.’
There’s an email from Jai. I look up at Leo. He grins at me as I click on it.
Dear Cherrie,
I apologise for The Flesh on the Bones. I hope your family can get past all the unforeseeable events it created. I’m glad Robin is safe, and I have written an article for the local newspaper about your vindication. I will delete The Flesh on the Bones podcast. I have recorded one last episode as an explanation for the deletion and an update to the case entitled Two Wrongs Didn’t Make Me Right, I hope you like it.
Once again, sorry.
Jai Patel
‘Mum’s solicitor threatened not just to sue him, but said he’d convince the police to file charges of reckless endangerment if Jai didn’t take the whole thing down.’
‘Really? Could they do that?’
‘Probably wouldn’t have gotten past the CPS, but Jai didn’t know that.’
‘Thank you. I need to thank your mum too.’ This is the nicest thing she’s ever done for me. We might not see eye-to-eye, yet Mrs Duffill stood up for me when I needed it.
‘Want to listen to his apology episode now?’ Leo asks.
It would be lovely to sit with my boyfriend and listen to a podcast that doesn’t vilify me, but I can’t guarantee Jai hasn’t hidden some nasty rumour in there that could ruin the moment. ‘Can I listen alone?’ I ask.
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘I need to do some quick measuring upstairs anyway.’
Leo jogs upstairs. Once he’s out of earshot, I click on the handy link Jai put in his email and play the final episode:
‘This apology podcast is sponsored by the Hungry Piglet Café where you are just one oink away from the best Full English Breakfast in the county.’
Fuck sake, that little weasel even managed to make money on his apology!
‘Well, this is goodbye for now, lovely listeners. We’ve had our ups and downs on the show and it’s been a ride to remember. I made some judgements that were not quite right, and I do apologise for any hurt they caused. As a journalist, you have to seek out the truth, and sometimes in doing that you can become blinded by evidence.’
Blinded by evidence? What evidence? Asshole.
‘Cherrie did not kill Thomas Doncaster or her son. But I think, as you all were behind me in my theory, you all understand why I thought what I thought and said what I said. What is fact is that Cherrie Forrester is Leigh-Ann Hendy. Her father was convicted of heinous crimes against young boys, and those are the foundation facts I built my theories on. Don’t worry, I’ve enjoyed podcasting so much, that I’ll be doing it again soon. Watch this space.’
Not much of an apology, but really, what did I expect? I turn it off.
‘Did Jai behave himself on his final podcast?’ Leo asks from behind me.
‘I guess, but I still don’t fully trust him.’
‘Well, perhaps this
will cheer you up. I’m turning the nursery into a playroom for Robin. Maybe we can talk about building another extension over the garage to add a room next to ours?’ he says with a grin, which I suspect is not just for a new baby but for a new building project too.
‘Okay, but you might need to take less than two years on this one, say more like seven months.’
Leo raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you?’
‘Nothing official yet, we need to go to the doctors, but I think so.’
Clapping his hands together, Leo dances a little on the spot, reminding me of Robin when he’s excited.
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We all know what can happen when we make assumptions. We need to have it confirmed first, okay?’ I say.
Nodding in agreement, Leo then lunges forward to hug and kiss me. ‘Hey, let’s forget about podcasts for a bit; and just watch all the Strictly episodes we recorded for Robin. Have a dancing marathon?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
Dropping to his knees, Leo kisses my stomach, then darts upstairs.
As happy as I am, I can’t help but think about Jai. He said he’d be back. I click on to The Flesh on the Bones address to double-check it’s been deleted. It should come up domain not found, but it doesn’t. Instead, there’s something new. It’s Jai’s replacement podcast, A Bloody Neck Tie. I scan the description. This series is about a teenage boy whose Dad strangled prostitutes somewhere up North. Jai has found a formula and although he’s let me go, he’s not letting his cash cow go so easily. It’s not fair. The sins of the father dripping onto his children like bloody water over a bathtub.
An idea flashes across my mind. Odd, I hadn’t realised just how much mental capacity my identity worries were taking up. I feel a clarity I’ve never known before. In the future I could start a support network. There have to be more people like me out there branded by our DNA rather than our actions. Innocent people born of bloodshed. I could help them grow from their past rather than spend useless energy trying to hide it. It could be my legacy for Robin and his baby brother or sister.
There’s a familiar thunder of bare feet down the stairs. I look up to see Robin, Leo close behind him.