Bound By Blood

by Paul J. Teague

  Charlotte remembered her brief hospital stays when the children were born. Callie was right; the interruptions were endless.

  ‘You were out for the count when I came into your room this morning. I figured I should just leave you to sleep.’

  ‘Well, it was a good call, thank you. And that lady, Isla, who works for you in the kitchens, she’s brilliant. She looked after me so well this morning. I met her husband George and their dog, Una, when he came to pick her up after work. They’re such a lovely couple.’

  ‘Right, we need to get things straight here,’ Charlotte began. ‘I’m sure I can help you piece together what happened in the past, but I can’t give you every answer. That’s where we can help each other, I hope. Between us, we can work this thing out.’

  ‘What do you know about my birth mother?’ Callie asked.

  Charlotte wished she’d started with an easier question. For a moment, she considered sugar-coating her answer. Then she changed her mind. Callie was an adult and had every right to know. The police would have to observe data protection and privacy rules, seek consent and all the other red tape that hindered their job, but she had more of a free rein.

  Callie drained her coffee and sat in silence as Charlotte explained everything she’d learned about the case since Nigel had first received the tip-off in the office. She looked ready to absorb everything, listening and waiting until Charlotte had finished before asking her first question. By the time she’d finished, Callie even knew about the Kate Summers connection.

  ‘I can’t believe I never knew anything about this,’ Callie said at last. ‘I’ve been living my life in oblivion; my mum and dad never told me any of it.’

  ‘I have no experience of these things,’ Charlotte said, wondering how her adoptive parents must be feeling, ‘but you should always remember your mum and dad were doing what they thought was right. Whatever happened in your past, they were all you’d ever known until recently, and you loved them for it.’

  ‘But there’s so much deception involved, Charlotte. It’s difficult to take it all in.’

  ‘I’m far from a model parent, Callie, but I can assure you everything I do as a mother is with my children’s best interests at heart. I don’t always get it right, but I would do anything for my kids. Any parent would.’

  Callie considered that for a while.

  ‘Why wouldn’t the police let me meet my birth mother?’ she asked. ‘They did the DNA test; they know who I am. Why can’t I see her?’

  ‘Things are complicated where your mother is concerned,’ Charlotte replied, choosing her words carefully. ‘Did they tell you she’s in a care home?’

  ‘No. What type of care home? She can’t be that old—’

  ‘It’s not that type of care home. She’s experienced some mental health difficulties. It’s a private home, not so far from here.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘You should wait a while before you see her.’

  ‘Where is it, Charlotte? I want to meet her.’

  ‘It’s in Torrisholme. They’re not very friendly there.’

  ‘You’ve seen her? You’ve met my mum?’

  ‘Callie, it’s dangerous for you. You’ll never get in there without alerting the police—’

  ‘How did you get in? Because that’s how we’ll get in this time.’

  Charlotte took a good look at Callie and recognised in her the resolve of a woman who knew what had to be done.

  ‘I sneaked in. And I got chased off. You can’t just walk in there.’

  ‘Well, you did. How would you feel if you’d just found out the woman you thought was your birth mother has been lying to you all your life and your real mother is just a couple of miles up the road? Screw the police and their procedures, I want to see her. I don’t care how ill she is. I’ll bet she wants to see me too.’

  Everything in Charlotte’s head screamed the need for care and caution, but if she were in Callie’s shoes, she’d want the same thing.

  ‘We’ll have to crawl through a hole in a hedge to get in,’ Charlotte warned. ‘And even then, we’ve got to get your mum’s attention through the window. It might not work, and we could land ourselves in trouble.’

  ‘It’s only a matter of time until the police catch up with me anyway. The more information I can get my hands on, the better. It’s why I sought you out, Charlotte. You strike me as a person who doesn’t stick to the rules. I need someone like you right now.’

  They finished their coffees in silence.

  ‘I want to go to the slipway,’ Callie said, without warning. ‘That’s why we came. I want you to walk me through what happened before I meet my birth mother.’

  They walked over to the slipway in silence, as if they were about to visit the grave of a loved one.

  ‘What happened here?’ Callie asked. ‘Not the sanitised police version. I want to know what went on that night. I find it unbelievable that I was here. I have no memory of it. I must have been three or four years old at the time, so why don’t I remember any of it?’

  ‘I reckon DCI Summers can help fill in some of the blanks,’ Charlotte ventured. ‘I’m not sure how much she knows, but she was involved in this back in 1999. She’s in danger now and there’s a reason you were contacted by a stranger after all these years. There are forces at work and I can’t figure out how it all fits together. But it does all slot together, Callie, and I’m sure we can work it out.’

  She left Callie on her own for several minutes until she was ready to leave. Charlotte was struck by how much her behaviour mirrored Steven Terry’s, pacing the area, seeking ghosts from her past who refused to show their faces.

  Eventually she was ready to continue their journey to the Briar Bank Care Home. Charlotte left the car parked nearby so they could walk up the road towards the building. She pulled her hair tight in a band to prevent it getting caught in the hedge, should they be forced to make a hasty retreat once again.

  The two women hovered furtively about fifty metres from the care home before moving in close to squeeze through the hedge. Charlotte was delighted to see there were no flashy cars in the car park; the management team obviously wasn’t around.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ Charlotte said. It made sense when she already knew the basic layout of the building. She lowered herself to the ground and pulled herself through the small gap in the hedge. Callie followed her through, making it look much easier, then they moved to the side of the building to check for signs of activity in the grounds.

  Charlotte peered around the corner. The gardens were quiet.

  ‘Okay, we’re clear.’

  They moved around the side of the building and came face to face with a member of staff who’d just stepped out from one of the rooms via the patio door. Charlotte and the woman stared at each other for a moment before recognising each other. It was the lady who’d confided in Charlotte on the sea front, an ally.

  ‘Are you here for Tiff, love?’ the woman whispered.

  ‘Yes. This is her daughter.’

  The woman gasped.

  ‘Come this way,’ she said, turning back into the room.

  ‘Do you know her?’ Callie whispered.

  ‘It’s a long story… another long story,’ Charlotte replied. ‘But yes, she’s a friend. She’ll help us. She loves your mum, don’t worry.’

  Callie and Charlotte followed her. Nobody else was in the room; the bed was stripped ready to be cleaned.

  ‘Josie died last night,’ the woman said quietly. ‘She was a good age. I’m just cleaning out her things.’

  She guided them through the room and peered around the door.

  ‘Tiff’s room is three doors along. Be quick, here’s the key. She’s up and about, I saw her earlier. She’s sitting in her chair.’

  Charlotte took the key and led the way along the corridor. As she reached the door, she gave a gentle tap then opened it with the key. Once they were inside, Callie closed the door quietly behind them.

  Tiffany looke
d up from her chair and studied Charlotte’s face. Then she looked across at Callie who’d stepped out to Charlotte’s side. Tiffany looked at Callie for a moment then a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  ‘Callie, my darling, beautiful girl. I always knew you had to be alive.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte watched Callie’s face as Tiffany identified her without hesitation. If there had been any hint of doubt in her mind that the DNA report had got it wrong, or that it was all some intricate hoax, it had now been put to rest.

  Charlotte wondered if she would recognise her own children after 20 years. There were occasions when Olli had crawled out of bed after a long sleep in, so tired and dishevelled that she’d barely recognised him after one night.

  ‘Callie Irwin, my daughter. Come closer, my beautiful Callie.’

  ‘I’m called Callie Whitehead now; I’ve never been Callie Irwin in my living memory.’

  She seemed prickly about the name, but then it was her entire history. Charlotte couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to discover you had a completely different identity. Callie walked over and Tiffany stood up and hugged her. Although Callie didn’t reciprocate, she didn’t push her away either.

  Tiffany moved her hand up to Callie’s beanie hat and pushed it up slightly.

  ‘Your birthmark never faded. I used to worry so much about it when you were younger. Did you ever notice it’s the shape of a—’

  ‘A daffodil.’ Callie completed the sentence. She began to sob.

  ‘It’s all going to be fine, Callie, don’t worry. I always used to see the shape of a daffodil and think how fitting it was. You always lit up a room when you were in it, just like a yellow flower. I’ve missed you so much, my darling.’

  Callie hugged Tiffany and they cried together.

  ‘I recognise your voice,’ Callie said. ‘You used to sing Lavender’s Blue to me to help me sleep. I thought I’d imagined or dreamed it, but it was you.’

  Tiffany laughed through her tears.

  ‘It would send you to sleep every time you had nightmares or when you were scared of the dark. We used to love singing that song together.’

  Charlotte felt her eyes brimming with tears, overwhelmed with the poignancy of the moment. But they couldn’t relax; this had to be a fleeting visit. It wasn’t over yet.

  ‘What happened to us?’ Callie asked. ‘Why were we separated?’

  ‘We lost you darling. We tried to save you, but they were just too powerful for us—’

  ‘Who’s we?’ Callie asked.

  ‘Brett and me. And Brett’s sister. We had a plan to give you a beautiful life. But it all went wrong. David beat me. He was ahead of me all the time. I didn’t even see him coming.’

  ‘Callie,’ Charlotte interrupted, ‘we can’t stay around. I know you want to, but you’re still on the run and I’ve got pressing matters to attend to. We need to finish here and be on our way.’

  Tiffany and Callie were standing close now, each touching the other like they feared they might slip away again.

  ‘Tiffany, we’re going to get you out of here,’ Charlotte said, drying her eyes and recovering her resolve. ‘I know what they’re doing to you, what they’re up to—’

  ‘Find Brett’s storage unit,’ she said. She spoke more clearly than when Charlotte had seen her previously. ‘I have no idea where it is, but you’ll find the paperwork in there. If you find that, you’ll be able to shake off David and Fabian once and for all. I wasn’t strong enough. Brett and I couldn’t manage it together. See if you can beat them. My Callie, you’re strong enough to do it. You were strong-willed as a baby; I can still see it in your eyes now.’

  The woman who was helping them entered the room, a worried look on her face.

  ‘They’re doing the drug rounds, love; you’d best get out of here. I’ll let you out of Tiffany’s patio doors.’

  ‘We’re getting Tiffany out of here,’ Charlotte said, ‘We’ll be back, we’re not leaving her here any longer than we have to. Look after her please... You never told me your name.’

  ‘You might as well know it now. It’s Fiona.’

  She rushed to the patio doors at the far end of Tiffany’s room and opened them, ushering Callie and Charlotte outside.

  ‘Thank you for doing this for Tiff,’ she said. ‘It’s about time someone started looking out for that poor woman. I couldn’t do anything on my own.’

  Charlotte reached out and touched Fiona’s arm.

  ‘You’ve done plenty already, Fiona. Thank you.’

  Callie gave Tiffany a final hug and followed Charlotte through the doors. Fiona swiftly locked up behind them, and the two women made their way back to the hedge. They pulled themselves through the small gap in silence, then walked away from the care home as fast as they could. When they were a safe distance away from it, Callie broke down in tears. Charlotte put her arm around her shoulders.

  ‘It’s too much to cope with,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s so overwhelming, Charlotte. What do I do? My whole life is being turned upside down, and I just don’t know how to cope.’

  ‘It’s a lot to deal with,’ Charlotte said gently. ‘You need to give yourself some time to get used to it.’

  ‘What happened to us?’ Callie asked, her voice rising in anger. ‘How can three children just disappear like that without anyone asking any questions?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to find out,’ Charlotte replied. ‘It’s a big mess, Callie, but I’m close to the truth now.’

  ‘Who is this Brett she was talking about? And who is my father? I feel like we’re no further forward than we were. It’s a huge mess. Maybe I should go back to the police now and let them solve it—’

  ‘You can’t do that.’

  Charlotte could see her abrupt change in tone had given Callie a jolt.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I suspect there’s something going on over land rights, Callie. It dates back two decades – to when you were a toddler living with Tiffany – and I reckon it’s why you disappeared. I also believe there’s a reason why you were asked to connect with Hollie Wickes after all this time. If you can trust me, Callie, I think we can do this without the police. Besides, not everybody at the police station is on our side.’

  ‘Are you telling me we can’t trust the police?’

  ‘No, we can’t, Callie, I’m sorry. This is bigger than either of us. It concerns a lot of money and a dispute which seems to go a long way back. My friend DCI Kate Summers can help, but she’s been framed by somebody and she’s in hiding at the moment. I’m sure she was on to something, and that’s why they’re trying to find her. They’re making her life impossible by implicating her in a murder case. Kate Summers is our answer, and I’m working on that.’

  Callie studied her face, as if she was making her final choice of an ally.

  ‘I want to speak to Hollie Wickes. If she’s connected with all this, I want to hear what she has to say.’

  ‘I’d very much like you to speak to Hollie too,’ Charlotte replied, recalling their altercation earlier that day. ‘In fact, I’d like to speak to Hollie Wickes myself, but she might not be so eager to speak to me. She has her phone now, so why don’t you call her? I’ll drive you there, but you mustn’t mention me.’

  The two women walked over to a nearby bench and sat down. Callie found her mobile phone in her pocket and located Hollie’s number in the missed calls. She dialled and put it on speaker phone. They looked at each other, waiting to see if the call was answered.

  ‘Callie Irwin?’

  It was Hollie Wickes’ voice. Charlotte could tell Callie was about to correct her over the name.

  ‘Go with it,’ she whispered, ‘that’s how she knows you. It’s how we all know you.’

  ‘Yes, it’s me. Why did you want me to call you?’

  ‘I was told to call you. Somebody contacted me out of the blue a couple of weeks back. They scared me. They told me I’m not who I think I am. They
asked me to do some things to find out the truth about my past. They gave me your number, but I couldn’t summon up the courage to get in touch. Then my phone was stolen, and I couldn’t call you back.’

  ‘I’m here now. Where do you live?’

  ‘I’m a student at the university now, but my real home is in Merseyside. I’ve lived there as long as I can remember. Who are you?’

  ‘You know me as Callie Irwin, but I’ve been called Callie Whitehead all my life. I live in Kent; I didn’t know anything about this area until I received an anonymous email, the same as yours. And I’ve just met the woman who’s supposed... who is my birth mother. I’m not sure what to do.’

  There was silence on the end of the line. This was a Hollie Wickes Charlotte was not familiar with. She’d seen her as a predator at first then, in the library; she’d been angry, really angry. And now she was claiming to be scared and confused, the same as Callie. And they’d both been contacted via a mysterious email.

  ‘The email told me the same thing,’ Hollie continued after a short pause. ‘I don’t believe what it told me. All my life, I’ve been sure who my mum and dad are—’

  ‘What else did it tell you?’ Callie pushed.

  ‘It said my name is Jane. Apparently, my real name is Jane Irwin.’

  Chapter Twelve

  December 1999

  Before Tiffany had children, she imagined playgroups were all about the babies. She’d use words like personal development and social interaction which she learnt whilst reading numerous parenting books before everything fell apart. But once the post-natal depression had set in, she discovered playgroups were more about the mums than the children. It had become unpaid therapy for her, a place where she could be sure she wasn’t going crazy.

  When Callie screamed all night with colic, she’d assumed it meant she was failing as a mother, that she had to be doing something wrong. When Callie refused her breast milk and the midwife scolded her for considering formula, the only conclusion she could draw – because all the other mothers seemed to manage it – was that she was deficient in some way.