Someone had called the police, or maybe more than one person. She hated how confused she felt about what was happening, what to do next. One minute she’d been talking to Rahul, facing ruin, the worst thing she could imagine. Then she’d heard a scream, and a thud, the blur of a falling body, and knew something bad had happened, but she was still standing frozen with Rahul by the smoking barbecue. Rahul was holding his phone, of course, but had not used it to call for an ambulance. Why not? Why had they even come here? She felt a rising anger, or sadness, or panic in her throat. ‘Aren’t you going to do something?’ He was a paramedic, this was his job. ‘Go and help, Rahul!’
In the distance, she could hear sirens. The police were coming, or maybe an ambulance, or maybe both. Voices overlapped, panicked:
What happened?
Who was up there?
Oh my God, is she . . . ?
She’s dead! Oh my God! In our house!
His eyes snapped open, as if he’d shut down for a minute. People were moving around them – Hazel had gone into the house carrying baby Arthur, and someone was crying, and someone had screamed, ‘Oh God! God!’ Someone ran across the patio. And she and Rahul were just standing there, doing nothing. Helping no one. ‘What should I do?’ he asked. Helpless. She wasn’t sure if he meant this, or the money, or both.
‘Something. Not just . . . nothing. This is your job!’
His hands tightened on the phone. ‘What’s going to happen? With us?’
The sirens grew louder, and stopped. Someone was dead. Aisha had not even begun to think about who. She was in shock, maybe. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Does it matter?’
He seemed about to answer, then he turned away. ‘I better go and help.’
Jax – now (one week after the barbecue)
Perhaps I should have done something, knowing as I did that the police were sniffing around. Run, fled the country. But where would I go? I had a newborn, and precarious control of my pelvic floor. For the week after the barbecue, I concentrated on getting through one hour at a time. Not days, because days had lost their meaning as a morning, afternoon and evening, a night where you slept through and woke up.
Aaron was still living elsewhere, subletting the studio flat of a guy who’d gone travelling for a month. Temporary, we called it, though I knew as well as anyone that temporary separations were just stepping stones to permanent ones. He came by each night to bathe Hadley and avert his eyes as I tried to feed her while she howled and batted my breast away, scratching me with her little sharp nails. We didn’t talk about what had happened on the balcony, or about his search for his mother, or the strange events which had now stopped. The things I’d said to him, the hole in the bedroom wall. The visits from the police. Kelly, and the baby. Nina on the balcony. The revelation. The struggle. The push. We didn’t talk about anything much, just how to keep Hadley alive when she didn’t want to feed and screamed herself hoarse every time I went to bathe or change her, despite covering herself every hour or so with pee and worse. The house stank. I stank. I cried without knowing I was doing it. In the middle of all this, DS Alison Hegarty came around with her questions and her watchful eyes. I didn’t have the brain capacity to mount a defence. I just had to wait for her to figure things out, and come for me. And she did. It was three weeks since the birth, and a week since the balcony, when I heard a car draw up outside. It was two in the afternoon, though this meant nothing to me. I had last slept an hour before, for ten minutes on the sofa. I had last showered almost three days before. I had last washed my hair for the barbecue. I heard the car, then the footsteps on the path, and I knew the doorbell would ring, and I waited, and it did. They were here.
Alison
Aisha and Rahul had confirmed what Cathy and Chloe had both said – Nina was on the balcony right before the fall with Aaron and Jax. ‘Nina was up there first,’ Aisha had volunteered. ‘Then Jax and the baby. Then I think Aaron got a text or something – I remember Rahul thought it was his phone, they had the same tone, and he jumped – and then Aaron sort of ran off into the house.’
‘Did you see what happened next?’
‘No. Rahul and I were talking, we weren’t looking – until we heard the scream.’
A significant look passed between them. Rahul cleared his throat. The sound of his voice came as a surprise to Alison – it was much more confident than before. ‘I have some gambling issues,’ he said. ‘Like you guessed. I owe some money. That’s why I – what we were talking about. I’d been hiding it from Aisha. I’ve told her everything now, even about my – about the caution I got. But I promise, neither of us had anything to do with the fall.’
Aisha looked anxious. ‘Poor Jax. She won’t get in trouble, will she? I always liked her. I’m sure it was just an accident.’
She would get in a lot of trouble if Alison had anything to say about it. ‘You should have told me this to start with. It’s very serious, withholding evidence.’
Aisha bit her lip. ‘I know, but . . . we weren’t sure, you know? We only knew they were up there. And she’s just had a baby . . .’
‘Alright. If you need any resources to help with gambling debts, I can suggest some.’
Rahul’s head was bowed, ashamed. ‘Thanks,’ he mumbled. ‘I’ll get it sorted.’
Back to the car, closing their doors with pleasing matching clunks. Diana mimed a clipboard. ‘Tick and tick.’
Next up was Monica Dunwood, who they caught in the middle of doing Pilates in front of the TV, in yoga pants that Alison knew cost a hundred quid. No sign of Chloe or the baby. ‘What do you want now? Is it about the rockery clean-up?’
That bloody rockery. ‘Just some clarifications.’
They got little more from Monica. Chloe had been sick all term, she maintained, and she’d sent the note but the stupid school had lost it. She was, however, keen to agree that yes, Jax and Aaron had been on the balcony with Nina before the fall. ‘I mean, I didn’t see for sure, I was in the kitchen, but when I went upstairs they were there, and Cathy.’
‘No one else?’
She flexed her hamstring. ‘No one else.’
‘And why did you not mention this before?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Like I said, I didn’t see anything. And of course one doesn’t like to incriminate people.’ Alison could have said something to her about withholding information, but decided it wasn’t worth it. And hopefully, after today, she’d never have to see Monica Dunwood again.
So there it was. Five witnesses had confirmed who was on the balcony. Plus, the DNA results, and the hair analysis, which showed the strands in Nina’s bracelet belonged to Jax Culville. More than enough for an arrest, and she couldn’t wait to see Colette eat her words about this being a simple accident.
She swung away from the kerb. ‘God, I feel like Mulder and Scully today.’
‘Who?’
Alison shot Diana a look. ‘If you try and tell me you’re too young . . .’
‘Only kidding. Bags me be Scully though.’
The day of – Jax
2.57 p.m.
The party had felt like a series of shocks, each one worse than the last. I wanted to go, but Aaron had disappeared again, so I had taken Hadley upstairs to cool her down. Guiltily, I saw she did look red. I had left her too long in the sun. My mother had been right – I wasn’t coping. I was messing this up.
In Monica’s upstairs bathroom, shockingly tidy, I splashed water over the baby at the sink, making her flinch and cry. I was close to crying too. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I’m sorry.’ Why had I thought I could do this? After thirty-eight years of only thinking about myself? Aaron was trying but he was so young. Hadley cried some more. ‘Baby, I’m sorry. I’ll take you home.’ And when we were there, Aaron and I would have to have a serious conversation. I’d have to go to the doctor and confess I wasn’t well. Maybe take medication. If I was lucky, they wouldn’t call social services.
I went out on to the landing, and saw someone hovering there,
their face in shadow. It was Nina. I hadn’t realised she was coming today and couldn’t face her. Whether she meant well or not, she’d played a role in tearing Aaron and me apart. Now I just said, ‘Hi. I think we need to head off.’
I couldn’t read her expression, but no surprise there. ‘Already? I was hoping to talk to you.’
‘Oh?’
‘Why don’t we go out on the balcony? There’s a nice view over the park.’
I hesitated. Hadley had already had too much sun. But Nina had a pull over me, or rather, my craven need to impress her was strong. I followed her out, and the glass door closed behind us, sealing off sound from the house. In the garden below, I could see Rahul and Aisha, their body language stiff, like people arguing, Hazel turning sausages at the barbecue. I saw Anita head round the side of the house, and the noise of a car drawing up that must be Jeremy, returning from dropping off Kelly. I didn’t know where Aaron was. The park spread out below us, and I wondered how much Ed had paid for this house, if we’d ever be able to move from my small one.
Nina said, ‘Hadley looks quite red.’
‘I know. I didn’t quite realise how strong the sun was. I’ll take her home and put some cream on her.’
‘You shouldn’t have left her, you know. Kelly was right to pick her up.’
I bowed my head. ‘I know.’
Nina shifted, her shadow falling over me. ‘I’ve always thought it was strange, who gets to be a mother and who doesn’t. Take Anita – she’d be a wonderful mum, and she can’t make it happen. But here you are, and it’s easy, even at your age. Our age, I should say.’
I hadn’t known we were the same age, but that was hardly the important point to note in what she’d said. ‘Hang on . . .’
‘My baby was taken from me, you know. Not because I wasn’t a good mum. I mean I was young, I was only fourteen, but I loved him. And that’s what mattered. I’d never have left him out in the sun, and they took him off me all the same.’
What was she talking about? She had a child? ‘I don’t . . .’
‘But I swore I’d find him one day. It took twenty years, but I did. And imagine my surprise to find he’s shacked up with someone my age! Literally old enough to be his mother!’
I didn’t understand what was happening. My head hurt; maybe I’d had too much sun as well. The baby was heavy in my arms. She started to cry again, the sound ear-splitting. ‘Nina, I don’t think you should be talking to me like this.’ But it was feeble, because I was used to women telling me off, of course.
‘Someone needs to, Jax. Before you put this little baby at risk. Before you corrupt my boy.’
‘What are you talking about? You have a son? Why did you never . . .’ How old would he be now? She said she’d had him at fourteen, and that she was my age. That meant . . .
‘Here he is,’ she said, her voice glowing with pride and love, and I turned and saw Aaron at the balcony door, and then I understood.
Aaron looked worried. Even more so than usual. ‘I got your text.’ To Nina. ‘Is she OK?’ Meaning me. My head was spinning. Did he know? Was Nina really his mother? Georgina was Nina? How was it possible?
‘Well, not really,’ said Nina, looking at him with her head tilted. ‘She’s no good for you. You know that really, don’t you? She’s too old for you. Not a good mum to Hadley. You need better, Edward.’
He looked so confused. So he didn’t know. I felt frozen to the spot, as I had after the anaesthetic. Nothing made sense. How could she be his mother? Why did she call him Edward? She must be crazy. ‘What?’
‘Darling, it’s me. Don’t you know me?’ She held her arms wide. ‘I’m your mum. They took you away from me, sweetheart, but I found you at last. I didn’t even know your new name! I had to pay a detective. But I found you.’
Aaron’s frown deepened. ‘What are you talking about?’
It was me who spoke. ‘Aaron . . . I think Nina’s saying she’s . . . who you were looking for. Your birth mother.’ Nina. Georgina. But how? Could such a coincidence be possible? It was hardly credible.
I found you, she’d said. Not a coincidence. And I remembered how I’d heard about this group, the flyer posted through our door, and I went cold all over. Move, my brain was telling me. Take the baby. Get out now. But I couldn’t.
Nina stepped towards him, her hand outstretched to his face. ‘And look at you. You’ve grown up so handsome, so kind. I’m proud of you. We’ve found each other at last, Edward.’
‘That’s not my name,’ he tried. He was as white as the paintwork.
‘It used to be.’ She smiled, wide and happy. ‘When you were mine. You’re my son, sweetheart. I’ve found you at last.’
Jax – now
I felt my life had taken a nightmare turn and I couldn’t seem to get it back on track. How far back could I trace the misstep? Meeting Aaron? Getting pregnant? Or further back – did I sow the seeds of this, waiting to grow up around me like a thicket, the moment I met Mark Jarvis?
The detective, Alison, she was someone I might have been friends with in other circumstances. I could see us moaning about our jobs and men over a bottle of white wine. She’d be direct but kind – he’s not good enough for you, love, move on. You deserve better. That sort of friend, who buoys you up but doesn’t flatter.
But we weren’t friends. Instead, she had come to my house and arrested me. I had been sitting in a cell for an indeterminate amount of time when she finally came in to get me. Blue mattress, cold walls, high dirty window. No doubt that was part of their strategy, to disorient you so you’d be more willing to confess. I wanted to say I didn’t know what I should confess to. But I did. The guilt was scrawled across my face like lipstick on a mirror. She knew it and I knew it.
‘Jax.’ She looked as tired as me, her hair frizzy under the fluorescent lights. ‘Come with me, please.’
‘Where’s my baby?’ I said, as we went down the corridor.
‘With your mother.’
‘Not Aaron?’
‘We’ve arrested him too.’
I digested this. I almost said, he didn’t do anything, but had the sense not to, not until I knew what was going on, what evidence they had. ‘I’ll need to feed her you know. How long have I been here?’
‘Forty minutes or so.’
It had felt longer. ‘Well . . . she’ll need a feed in an hour or so.’
‘Alright. Noted.’ She sat down opposite me, fixed me with some intense eye contact. She said some things about being under caution and having a lawyer if I wanted, and switched on a tape machine and it was all so much like the TV that I could hardly take it in. ‘Do you know why you’re here, Jax?’
I thought about blustering it out, but I knew I wouldn’t be here unless she had some pretty compelling evidence. ‘I imagine because I was on the balcony when Nina . . . fell.’
‘Which you didn’t mention when I questioned you. In fact, you lied about where you were.’
‘I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.’
‘Which would be?’ She put her elbows on the table, leaned forward. Careful, careful.
‘I didn’t push her.’
‘So we can agree she was pushed.’
Careful! ‘No. She fell.’
She sighed, and again I imagined her as my supportive but honest friend. ‘Jax. We know she couldn’t have fallen. We also know she was Aaron’s mother.’
Oh God. I paused. ‘We only found that out right before. She’d been looking for him – stalking him, really. She’d even set up the baby group just to get to him! I mean, it’s crazy!’ Maybe I was making things worse. Maybe I should have had a lawyer after all, as they’d offered, but I’d only thought about our bank balance, or rather lack of it. Stupid.
‘So what happened – she told him who he was, and he pushed her off?’
‘No! Christ, no, he didn’t do anything. He’d been wanting to find her.’
‘I imagine he was pretty angry though – the woman who abandoned him, pretendin
g to be someone else, infiltrating his life.’
‘It wasn’t her fault. She was made to give him up.’ I had believed Nina – I’d heard the cloying love in her voice.
‘So what happened, Jax?’ She sat back. ‘You have to tell me, you know. I have enough to charge you both with murder. Your hair was tangled in Nina’s bracelet, did you know? Imagine that – little Hadley left with no parents. I imagine she’d go to live with your mother.’
Damn it, Alison, I thought we were imaginary friends. ‘Neither of us pushed her. She – she tried to push me.’
She nodded, as if she finally believed me. ‘Go on.’
And so I did.
The day of – Jax
3.02 p.m.
Aaron was frozen, staring at his mother. Because I could see it, now they were side by side. The blue eyes, the shape of the face. Oh my God. All this time, his mother had been right under our noses. ‘How . . . I don’t understand,’ he managed.
‘I’ve been looking for you. And you’ve been looking for me, haven’t you? Of course, I’ve changed my name, so I couldn’t do it through official channels. But I found you – a little note on Facebook of all places, just the tiniest reference to you in among all that rubbish! – and imagine my shock – you’re about to be a dad yourself. With a woman my age. She’s my age, Edward!’
He couldn’t have known, but the thought did blaze across my mind like a comet. Mother issues. The Oedipus complex, wasn’t that what they called it? Aaron had been two when he went into care; old enough to have bonded with her, to have a memory of some kind. I was the same age as my partner’s mother. And here we were, trapped on this balcony with her. I began to edge back towards the door. Aaron said, ‘I . . . Jesus, I didn’t know.’
‘You must have, on some level.’ She took another step towards him, which meant that, on the small balcony, she was very close indeed. I was pressed against the glass wall, Hadley squirming against me. ‘It’s OK, darling. You don’t need her any more. I’m here. I’ll look after you, and Hadley too. We can start again – a family!’
The Push Page 27
