The Forgotten Child

by D. E. White

  ‘Back in business. You make it sound like he was doing something legal,’ Holly told her. ‘Don’t you start seeing any of the Nicholls lot, though … Actually, didn’t you mention a fit bloke called Rohan a while ago? You can’t be thinking of getting involved with a Nicholls. Cathryn!’

  ‘It’s nothing. Back to Niko, anyway. He doesn’t seem that bothered his brothers have been murdered either. There, you look half decent now. He’s going to have a fucking job to get back into the biz – I know Mason ran the drugs side into the ground while Niko was banged up. But now he’s lost Alexi and Roman too, so with no brains and no brawn he’s basically screwed.’

  ‘Which is why Niko’s hanging around Gareth, presumably. Joey seems to think Niko might work for them, or at least put some money into their business. At least, that’s what I get from joining the dots on our conversation last night.’

  ‘Right, babes. I can see what Gareth can do for Niko but not what Niko can do for Gareth, if you get me. Anyway, I’ll see if Colleen can find out any more, and you need to get onto Devril. If he actually knows where you brother is … Come on, Holly, we could find out without the police sticking their beaks in,’ Cath said enthusiastically.

  ‘We need to get back inside.’

  ‘Very obvious subject change, Hol. Oh, did you see that Sara has turned up with exactly the same bag as you? I think you’ve got yourself another stalker!’

  All the team knew Holly had a pest caller. It happened to all of them occasionally. ‘Has she? Whatever.’ Holly led the way back into the warm building. ‘I’ll ring Devril tomorrow morning, okay?’

  ‘Fine, but make sure you do it. You need to find out this stuff for yourself and screw the police. Don’t trust them, Holly, they’re full of shit. Oh, and you’re not going to like this either, but you need to see your dad, find out what’s really going on in his head.’

  ***

  After work Holly drove straight over to pick her aunt up. Lydia had walked across the bridge to the road, so it was an easy ten minutes to the hospital.

  ‘How’s the dog?’ Holly asked brightly, trying to mask exhaustion and worry with conversation.

  ‘Gorgeous. And he’s not “the dog”, he’s called Oreo.’

  ‘Sorry, Oreo. I bet you’ve given him a bath and done his hair, and he’s in dog heaven.’ Holly smiled at her.

  ‘Might have done. Suri on the top floor’s looking after him this morning. She loves dogs. Used to have a Jack Russell that bit everyone.’

  ‘I remember.’ Weirdly, Holly felt nervous, but she told herself it was just too much caffeine and not enough sleep.

  She dropped Lydia at the entrance and drove around looking for a space. Eventually she spotted an elderly couple about to move, so she waited, indicator flashing, drumming her fingers on the wheel with impatience.

  A man caught the edge of her vision, walking quickly past the bike shelter towards the road. His coat flew out in the breeze and his head was down, but he was unmistakable. Holly stared as DI Harper vanished behind the hedge. What the hell was he doing at the hospital? Unless something had happened to the boy …

  A loud hooting from behind her made her jump, and she blinked as a Mini dodged round her and nipped into the space left by the old couple. A couple of teenage boys gave her a V sign in triumph, but she was too worried to care. There was surely only one reason the DI would have been there … Holly parked illegally on the double yellow lines at the end of the car park and ran towards the entrance.

  Lydia was waiting by the lifts, and Holly managed to control her anxiety until they reached the ward. She didn’t know whether to expect the worst, or if they’d go in to find him awake and talking. But when they arrived, there was nothing to report. The boy was still in a private room and they sat, one either side of the bed, and watched him breathing. A quick chat with the nurse reassured Holly further. It was just a matter of time before he woke up, the nurse told them.

  Holly bit her lip, relief flooding her body, making her shoulders sag. She was stupid to have even thought the DI was at the hospital in connection with the child. He must have loads of cases and loads of people to visit. It might even be a family member in here.

  ‘He looks a lot like Jay, doesn’t he?’ Lydia was actually sniffing into a tissue. Gently, she touched the boy’s cheek with the back of her hand, her red talons curled away from his face. The long dark lashes curled a little, and the boy’s cheeks had a definite, healthy flush of pink she’d not seen there before.

  They chatted across the child about this and that, and after half an hour, Holly reluctantly got to her feet. ‘Sorry, Lydia, I’ve got to go, or I’ll probably fall asleep next to him.’ Without thinking she leant over and kissed the boy’s forehead, smoothing his dark hair out the way, just as she had done every time she had visited.

  But this time she froze, still leant over, feeling his breath on her cheek. His eyelids flickered, and the corner of his mouth twitched, before he opened his eyes with a little gasp.

  Chapter 16

  ‘Hey,’ Holly said softly, smiling as the dark eyes met hers, before turning towards Lydia. It must be terrifying to wake up in a room full of strangers.

  ‘Hallo, darling.’ Lydia’s eyes were bright with tears, and her hand was on his. ‘I’ll get one of the nurses.’

  ‘I’m Holly. What’s your name?’ It was the simplest introduction and worked from childhood to adulthood, but the boy in the bed just stared at her. From time to time his eyes darted around the room, and she could see he was breathing quickly. ‘It’s okay. You had a car accident and you’re in hospital. You’re safe.’

  He looked hard at her, moistened his lips, but didn’t say a word. All kinds of emotions flitted across his face, like shadows on a sunny day, and he moved carefully under the sheets, until his legs were curled up, and he was on his side, facing her. Milo often slept curled up like that and Holly almost felt like crying.

  Lydia came back quickly and the nurse gave them all a bright smile, before busying herself with the child’s observations. She chatted away to the boy, seemingly unconcerned that he remained silent, and when she was done she drew Lydia and Holly away from the bed, towards the door.

  ‘All his observations are normal. The doctor will be round soon and there are a few more tests we need to do now he’s woken up, but he looks fine.’

  ‘He hasn’t said a word. Is that normal?’ Lydia asked.

  The nurse shrugged. ‘He’s been through a major trauma and woken up to find himself in a strange place surrounded by strangers. It might take time for him to trust us. I’ll have to ask you to leave now – the police asked to see him as soon as he woke up.’

  ***

  Lydia was staying over for a few days, as she often did when Holly worked nights, and she said she would collect Milo from his after-school clubs at five. She and Holly sat for an hour with cups of tea and cake, talking about the child, speculating, arguing, until finally Holly fell asleep with her head on the table and her aunt had to shake her gently awake and shove her in the direction of the stairs.

  After grabbing a couple of hours’ sleep, Holly staggered down and found Lydia had tidied the house, packed up her niece’s dinner for work, and left a note saying she was going home to check on Oreo, but would be back to pick Milo up from his clubs.

  Holly made a coffee and sat at the kitchen table with her phone. There was a message from DC Marriot saying that she and DS Marlow had been in to see the boy, and he seemed fine, was eating and drinking but still not speaking. Holly herself kept replaying the moment when the child had opened his eyes. She had only ever seen Larissa’s eyes in that photograph, but her son’s were a mirror image. But the little pointed chin, the expression of wary stubbornness, reminded her so much of Jayden.

  Cath texted to ask if Jayden’s son had said anything yet, and Holly sent back a negative reply. The nurses had promised to ring if anything changed.

  Idly she googled Devril again, and watched the results come up. She skim-
read a couple of his articles, not really interested in the sordid night lives of reality stars, or dodgy fast food businesses.

  Nothing really caught her eye until she came to the bottom of the results page:

  Girls for Sale – The rise and rise of pop-up brothels

  Holly clicked and read the full article, which was dated January this year. She knew her dad had been involved in a lot of illegal business stuff, as well as his legitimate shops and garages, but she had always managed to turn a blind eye to it. It was a source of income, and you got money the best way you could. But she had no idea he was involved in the trafficking and brothels until Larissa’s death. Larissa’s backstory – when the police had finally pieced it together – was sickening, but it happened, and it was over. She had found her happy-ever-after with Jayden and then it had been torn apart.

  Holly read the article again. It didn’t mention any names but it did quote sources from the ‘south coast area’. Could Devril be after the Nicholls?

  The next article was about getting underage kids to act as mules, taking drugs across the county lines via train, and bus. Again, sources on the south coast were quoted. There was also a quote from the area police on the problem. Holly hadn’t given much thought to the families after she moved out. Her dad still had the betting shop, and the kebab places, but she had been so sure he wasn’t a player anymore, that he’d sunk all his money into the bottom of a beer bottle. Sure, he’d carried on as long as he could after her mum’s death, but Jayden’s death had finished him. But now he seemed to be staging a comeback. She really did need to go and visit. It was time for a long overdue little father and daughter chat. But first there was a phone call to make.

  Dev’s business card was on the shelf on top of a pile of bills. The rain was drumming on the windows, lashing insistently at the roof tiles.

  ‘Come on, Holly, just bloody do it,’ she told herself. The lid was already off Pandora’s box, and the bad stuff was happening. She could do worse than talk to Devril. Giving herself no time to dwell on it, Holly tapped out the number, waiting, holding her breath, for him to answer.

  ‘Devril Mancini.’

  Her free hand was clutching the edge of the table, knuckles white. ‘It’s Holly.’ She stopped, unsure whether she needed to add a surname, and if so which one.

  ‘Hey, Holly.’ There was a smile in his voice, and something else. Relief? She was used to listening to people’s voices, to picking out the nuances others might miss.

  ‘So you mentioned that you knew some stuff about Jayden. Can you talk now?’

  ‘Sure. We can meet up if you like? Where are you?’

  Letting out a long gentle breath, ignoring her thundering heart, she tried to sound normal. ‘At home.’ She gave him the address. He didn’t ask her to repeat it. She figured he probably already knew where she lived. Especially if he had been following her.

  Ending the call, Holly sat, slumped at the kitchen table for a while, and then walked over to the window so she could see when he arrived. Hell, she even caught herself checking out her hair in the mirror. Which was crazy and depressing because she looked like shit – old and tired. When she and Dev had been a couple, they had both been ripped from training, her dark hair had been long and straightened to within an inch of its life, and she had looked damn good. Just for a second she wished she hadn’t left her box of memories at Donnie’s flat.

  An old cardboard box full of trophies, her magazine covers, a scrapbook of cuttings, certificates – all the stuff she hadn’t brought with her into her new life with Tom. But, unlike her social media profiles, which she had ruthlessly taken down, and the photos on her computer, which she had deleted by the thousand, that box was full of mementoes you could get your hands around.

  A thump on the door broke through her reverie and she ran a hand through her hair and then hastily tied it up, pulling a few strands around her face.

  ‘Fucking weather.’ Devril had the hood of his coat pulled right down over his face and water streamed off his shoulders, collecting in pools on the wooden floorboards. ‘Hell, sorry, now I’ve messed up your house.’

  ‘It’s fine. I haven’t got long because I’ve got work tonight, but we need to talk about Jayden.’ Holly led the way to the kitchen, unable to meet his eyes, to stand close to him, and furious with herself because she was acting like a pathetic teenager. ‘I’m sorry about before. It was just a shock to see you, and with everything that’s been going on, I didn’t want any more shit, you know? When you told me that you never passed the message on, it was almost like I could let the past go, but someone doesn’t want that to happen, do they?’ She needed to stop babbling and shut up, so she started making drinks, keeping her back to him, avoiding his eyes.

  ‘Nice place, you’ve got. Better than Donnie’s shithole.’ Devril wandered over to the kitchen windows. ‘Can’t see the sea from here, although I suppose you’ve got the woods at the bottom of your garden.’

  ‘Devril! I thought you were a journalist, not a bloody estate agent. Tell me what’s going on.’ Jolted out of her nerves, Holly stood with her back to the counter, arms folded, watching him.

  He turned to face her, grinning. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit nervous. How weird is that? Seeing you properly after all these years … I’m just excited you invited me round, so I don’t have to keep following you and pleading for an audience.’

  Suddenly she felt better, the solid lump of worry that seemed to have lodged itself in her stomach melting a little. ‘Shut up, Dev! Okay, here’s your drink, so sit down and tell me what the fuck is going on and what you’re doing back down here.’

  ‘Don’t I get coffee?’

  Without thinking, she had made tea for them both. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Fair enough. You’re right, I’m a journalist. After the trial …’ He paused, glancing at her, but she remained expressionless. ‘Well, you wouldn’t see me, would you? The Seaview was fucked and there was a rumour I was a grass after I gave evidence at the trial. Gareth Nicholls was after my blood so I went right away. It never came to anything, and Gareth even phoned a few months after Jayden had been declared dead and apologised for doubting me.’

  ‘Get lost!’

  ‘No, he did. He offered me a load of money to come back and work with him.’

  Wow. Dev had always done a lot of the background work, keeping track of who was dealing what and where it was going, so she supposed he had been missed. The second-tier dealers trusted him and he kept the prices high for the punters, low for the main dealers. Yeah, the Nicholls family would have taken a hit.

  ‘I said I couldn’t come back, but I might see him sometime. I didn’t want to piss him off, and I knew by then that the police were going to jump on his trafficking business. Although they never had enough evidence to bust him out of business, did they? I’d always put a bit of money away, so I went off to Asia, the States, Australia and just worked my way around.’

  ‘But you came back,’ Holly said.

  ‘After a couple of years, I knew I needed to sort my life out. I did come back down to the Seaview for a quick visit. My uncle was busy working his arse off for Gareth, and Joey and I are still on good terms. They seemed to have the whole place sewn up, and despite what the police and the papers said, Nicholls Transport was still transporting things it shouldn’t be.’

  ‘So how did you get into journalism? That’s a big change from being a personal trainer.’ She couldn’t imagine his life after Larissa’s murder, but then he probably couldn’t imagine hers either.

  He rested one arm on the table, propping his chin in his hand. ‘Not so hard really. It’s quite a recent thing. I’d been blogging about my travels, and I had a good following on Instagram. I met this bloke when I was travelling in India, and he was a commissioning editor from one of the local papers in Cardiff. He said to get in touch if I ever wanted a job. I really didn’t expect him to follow through. You meet loads of people travelling and hardly ever keep in touch properly.’

  ‘
You’ve been living in Wales?’ Holly got up to make coffee, mulling it over. ‘I read some of your stuff,’ she admitted, reaching for mugs. ‘It was good.’

  ‘Ta. I only stayed in Cardiff for six months, and now I’m freelance, so I still get to travel, just not to exotic places so much.’ He grinned. ‘But you stayed right here and got married. I would never have predicted that!’

  Holly didn’t want to talk about her life. Apart from Milo, she felt she had done a pretty good job of screwing it up so far. ‘So go on, you’re obviously back here for a story.’

  ‘Holly, there’s no easy way to say this, and I swear until the car crash – which incidentally was nothing to do with me – you weren’t involved, but I had a tip-off that Jay was back in Westbourne.’

  ‘I need to know your source. Who told you?’ It came out high and sharp.

  Devril waited a long moment, before saying, almost reluctantly, ‘Bailey. He’s Gareth’s kid. You remember him?’

  She screwed up her nose, thinking hard. ‘Fuck, he got beaten up back then, didn’t he? Outside Shoey’s? And you and Jay helped him.’

  ‘Yeah. He got stabbed but he pulled through. Bailey’s a good kid and he’s driving for his dad now, mostly through Europe. We’ve kept in touch on and off. He knows he owes me one. You know how it works.’

  Holly did. People from the outside, like Tom, always thought that the Seaview was lawless and rough as hell, but it had its own rules, and the communities were fiercely loyal, sticking to their values and their families. If someone saved your life, you owed them. If someone beat the shit out of you, you owed them in a totally different way. The favours or the threats could run into future generations and grudges were passed from father to son and mother to daughter.