by Linda Huber
She gazed through the houses to the ocean, deep blue in the middle distance. This was such a great place to bring up kids. The beach would be mobbed, of course, but that didn’t matter because at last, at last she could be with families having fun without thinking, oh, I want one too, why can’t I have one too? The waiting and wanting were over; now they could grow as a family and give their child the love she so obviously craved. Surely Rick must see it that way too.
‘Waah!’ shrieked Soraya.
Ella stopped. Rick had slowed right down and Soraya was strung between them, arms stretched sideways. He was staring at a metallic grey Ford parked on the other side of the road, a peculiar little frown on his face.
‘Come on, Daddy,’ said Ella.
‘Ah – right,’ he said, his eyes still on the car. ‘Coming.’
‘Someone you know?’
‘No… I don’t think it is.’ He strode on downhill. ‘Let’s get to this beach. I can smell the sea!’
When they stopped at the red man he turned and stared at the car again, but he said nothing and Ella fumed inwardly. It was infuriating when he did odd things like that, leaving her not knowing what he was thinking and afraid to ask. This wasn’t how she’d imagined their first weeks as parents – she’d been prepared for problems with Soraya, not with Rick.
But oh, it was fun at the beach, collecting shells and making a sandcastle and paddling in the sea – and once even shivering in up to her waist to jump through the waves with Soraya. Watching the tide reduce the sandcastle to a heap of wet sand had the little girl giggling in a way that went straight to Ella’s soul. Rick played his part in the sand games and Ella began to wonder if she was imagining his preoccupation. It was a period of adjustment for them all. Real life wasn’t like one of those sunshiny soap powder commercials.
‘Let’s go. There isn’t enough beach left for all these people on it,’ she said when the castle was gone. ‘You can have a pony ride if you want to, Soraya, and then we’ll buy huge ice creams before we go home. How’s that?’
Soraya shrieked approval, and Ella laughed, glad to see Rick was smiling too. It was so lovely, doing things with their child… who wasn’t their child yet. The thought always sobered her. The adoption wouldn’t be finalised for another two months, and even after that there would still be meetings and support groups to attend. Was an adopted child ever your own child? No, Ella realised suddenly. An adopted child became your own adopted child. What mattered was those two words ‘your own’. It was different, that was all. Soraya knew they weren’t her birth parents. Ella hugged the little girl when she returned from her pony ride, and for half a second Soraya let her. Then –
‘Ice cream!’
Other families were doing the same thing, and the streets were busy. Ella kept a tight hold of Soraya’s hand. They strolled along, stopping occasionally to look at a shop window or a gallery display, and Ella’s heart sank when she saw Rick staring at other families as they passed. Families with smaller children… little boys, in buggies. For a moment she was racked with guilt. He had wanted a boy, but she’d bulldozed that idea almost as soon as she set eyes on Soraya. On the other hand, Rick had agreed to the adoption and his behaviour now was bordering on disgraceful. A small boy in a buggy was waiting outside the newsagent’s, accompanied by an older child, and Rick actually stopped to peer under the buggy’s sunshade.
Tight-lipped, Ella prodded his arm. ‘You’ll be arrested for voyeurism if you go on like that.’ She pulled him away, and he glared at her. Ella shook her head. What was going on in his mind? If he was trying to guilt-trip her because she wanted Soraya, it was the most unfair thing he’d done yet.
Home again, Ella was glad when Rick decided to go to the DIY store to buy paint for Soraya’s bedroom. Half an hour apart would give her some breathing space. Still feeling annoyed, she waved as the car disappeared down the road, then took the beach things outside to shake the sand off.
Soraya was shooting balls into the basket. ‘Come and play too.’
‘Be with you in a minute. I’ll put this lot in the machine first.’
It was more than a minute, however, as the bottle of fabric softener was empty and she had to search around for the new one. Who invented these caps, she thought, tearing a nail on her first attempt to open the bottle. Must have been a man. Or maybe she was letting her annoyance at Rick colour her thoughts here. Grinning, she twisted until the cap gave way. Come on, supermum.
Outside, at first glance the garden was deserted. Had Soraya gone next door without saying anything? Owen’s mother was back now and had given the little girl a standing invitation. But no – there was Soraya at the front end of the garden, leaning over the fence and staring down the street.
‘I was talking to a nice lady,’ she said happily. ‘She has a new flat here and she had a little boy in a buggy and she thinks she’ll get him a basketball set too, when he’s bigger. She said I’m the best basketballer she’s seen for a long time.’
Ella hesitated. Stranger Danger was something she hadn’t yet spoken about with Soraya. They should do that, but this settling-in period didn’t seem the right time. She didn’t want to make the child afraid of every new person she met.
‘Maybe you can teach the little boy, when he’s bigger,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Next time you see them, come and get me straightaway and we can all chat.’
The idea appealed to Soraya and she told Rick all about the encounter over roast chicken salad at dinner time. To Ella’s dismay the closed expression was back on Rick’s face and his answers were monosyllabic. A little boy in a buggy, of course, was exactly the child he had wanted to adopt.
‘She shouldn’t be talking to strangers,’ said Rick, as soon as Soraya ran upstairs.
‘I know. This was just a new neighbour, though. We’ll do the Stranger Danger talk soon.’
The following day, Rick started painting the bedroom while Ella and Soraya added the previous day’s collection to the shell garden. Ella sat on the grass while Soraya arranged the shells, a serious expression on her face – it was wonderful to see the little girl so engrossed. Her eyes were shining as she added some of the ornamental blue stones they’d found in the craft shop. Unable to concentrate my foot, thought Ella. Mind you, Soraya’s new teacher hadn’t uttered a negative word about the child yet.
‘If we gather any more we’ll need to extend this,’ said Ella, when the shells were arranged.
‘Yes!’ Soraya jumped up and down. ‘We can – oh! There’s my lady!’
She ran towards the street, where a young woman was pushing a buggy containing a toddler, fast asleep. The woman put a finger to her lips as Soraya approached the fence.
‘I’ve just got him off – he’s teething, he’s been crabby all day,’ she said, then turned to Ella. ‘Hi. I had a chat with your daughter yesterday. We have a new flat down in the block – haven’t moved in yet but we’re getting it ready. Not so easy with a teething toddler attached to your hip.’
Be happy you have a teething toddler, thought Ella – but that wasn’t fair. This woman didn’t know their situation. She leaned on the fence. ‘I can imagine. You’ll find this is a good area for kids. Plenty about for play dates, and there’s a toddler group at the library; your little boy might like that. What’s his name?’
‘Jaden. And I’m Amanda.’
Ella introduced herself and Soraya, and they stood for a few minutes chatting about St Ives before Amanda walked on downhill. Soraya ran back to her shells, and Ella followed. The little girl had barely taken her eyes off Jaden. It might be a good idea to team up with some mothers who had younger children. Her peers were still overwhelming to Soraya, who had yet to agree to a play date with any of the children in her class. Thank goodness it was almost the summer holidays. Amanda and her son might be a big part of the settling-in process for Soraya – and Ella could help them settle into the area too, so it would be a two-way thing. She heaved a sigh of pleasure. It was going to be a good summer, she could tell
.
Chapter Four
Wednesday 18th – Thursday 19th June
‘Bye-bye, house,’ said Amanda, waiting to pull out behind the removal van and glancing round at Jaden in the back. He was clutching his teddy, unaware that he’d never come back to the only home he’d ever known.
‘Bye-bye-bye,’ he echoed, waving at nothing in particular.
Amanda grimaced. It was nap time, except there probably wouldn’t be a nap today. She’d arranged to leave him with Eva for the duration of the removal, but her friend had called that morning to say her three-year-old had been up sick all night. So Jaden had witnessed the breaking up of his home. Not that he seemed distressed in any way, thought Amanda. He didn’t understand, of course, and he shared none of her own feelings about leaving the house. All this was far, far away from where she’d been a few short months ago.
Amanda turned out of the driveway, looking back one last time. Regret was a heavy emotion. It lamed you, and it changed you, too. She wasn’t the same person anymore and she never would be, but her job was to take care of her son – and the baby.
They stopped at the end of the road to let the bin lorry past.
‘Bin,’ said Jaden, and Amanda blew him a kiss in the baby mirror.
He was growing up so fast. She would have to be careful now he was beginning to talk and understand more. Jaden had loved Gareth so much; he must never know what happened to his daddy. Oh God – what had James done with Gareth?
For an instant, disbelief almost overpowered Amanda. Gareth was dead and she was involved in a criminal cover-up; life didn’t get any more complicated. But it was much too late to tell the truth. She thrust her chin in the air. Her boy had already lost his father, he couldn’t lose his mother to the prison system. It wasn’t as if she was a bad person; this nightmare was down to bad luck alone. And bad judgement. She should never have taken up with James.
But at least she had found him again, James and his perfect family, and this time she wasn’t going to let him disappear. She would stay – not in the background, because she was planning to make him very aware of her presence in the next street, but more – in the middle ground. When the baby was born she would have a paternity test done and take things from there. Did she want James back? That was a decision for later.
It took the rest of that day and all the next, and the help of a team of friends, but by Thursday evening Amanda stood holding Jaden in a comfortably organised flat. Her flat. And oh, how very little of Gareth there was here. She’d given his clothes to a local charity shop, then wondered too late if this would look suspicious. But Sergeant Jacobs had said the sea was by far the most probable place for Gareth to be. Only she and James knew Gareth wasn’t in those green and blue depths she could see from her new kitchen window. Or – had James dumped the body in the ocean?
And here she was, back to being a single person in a flat. A single mother. But she wasn’t really alone.
‘Couldn’t have managed without you guys,’ she said as her friends left.
She waved from the living room window as they piled into cars and drove off. They were all so sorry for her and it was touching in one way but terrifying in another. They had no idea what she’d done.
Jaden was toddling from one piece of furniture to the next, patting them as if to say, it’s okay, this is home now. Amanda swept him into her arms and kissed him, inhaling his baby smell and revelling in the way he snuggled against her.
‘Come on, lovey. Let’s have a nice walk before bedtime. We can see if Soraya’s out in her garden.’
With Jaden on one hip and the buggy in the other hand she negotiated the stairs, reflecting grimly that this wouldn’t be so easy in a few months’ time.
It was a grey evening, cool for the time of year but pleasant enough for children to be outside playing. Amanda stopped to chat to people as she passed, and carried on up the hill feeling better about the move. The awkward part would be telling her new acquaintances about Gareth; it was a real conversation stopper but it would have to be done. Tonight, however, she was content to chat about the weather and the children and then pass on.
Soraya was in their garden. Amanda heard her voice as soon as she pushed the buggy round the corner. Her footsteps slowed as she watched the little girl run back and forward. The house was about twenty yards away on the other side of the road, and it looked like a spot of basketball practice was going on.
Amanda glanced down at Jaden. She had left this too late; his eyelids were drooping. If he went to sleep now he’d waken when she lifted him from the buggy; he always did. Then he’d still be running around at midnight, and after the busy day she needed some peace. She would just walk past on the other side of the road and continue round the block and get Jaden to bed. There would be plenty of time to talk to Soraya – and her parents – another day.
Drawing level with the house, she glanced across the road. Soraya was nowhere to be seen now, but oh – James was right there in the garden talking to Ella. Should she go across after all? No – she should work out in her head what she wanted to say to him. It might be better if the first meeting happened when Ella wasn’t around.
Ella had seen her, however, and waved. Amanda waved back, then gesticulated towards Jaden and then further along the road. James was standing motionless, his eyes wide and staring right at her. Hadn’t Soraya and Ella mentioned her by name? Or maybe he’d thought she didn’t know he was the daddy of the family. She’d spooked him well and truly now, anyway. Nice one, Amanda. Grinning, she continued down the road and round the corner.
‘That’s given our James something to think about,’ she said to Jaden. ‘Don’t go to sleep, lovey. Did you see James?’
‘Jay-jayjay,’ said Jaden, then, obligingly, ‘Da-dada!’
‘That’s right,’ said Amanda. And maybe one day it would be. As soon as the thought crossed her mind she laughed at her own stupidity. Did she really think James was going to give up his wife and daughter, not to mention his lovely home and lifestyle, to be with her and one child who wasn’t his and another who only might be? Dream on, woman. If she managed to organise financial help from James that in itself would be a success.
Home again, Amanda put Jaden to bed and went through to her own room, where a couple of boxes of knickknacks were still waiting to be unpacked. Her jewellery box caught her eye and she lifted it from the removal carton. She would have a sort through this, most of it was old family stuff from her grandmother.
A mug of tea by her side, Amanda settled down on the sofa. Here was her grandmother’s wedding ring, red gold, unusual nowadays. And the string of pearls Mum gave her for her eighteenth, expensive no doubt but they’d been Amanda’s least-appreciated present. Pearls were for older women with blue rinses and twinsets, not teenagers with pink streaks and piercings. And Aunt Carla’s ruby brooch. And -
Amanda lifted a thin gold chain with a St Christopher medallion. James’ St Christopher. How had it got into her jewellery box? She stared at the medallion. James had been wearing it that awful day; she could remember feeling it hard against her chest as they lay in bed. It must have come off in the tussle afterwards, yes, look, the catch was broken. But that didn’t explain how it got into her jewellery box.
Amanda sat still, her brain working furiously. The medallion must have been lying around in her bedroom at the house, but it was odd she hadn’t found it when she was cleaning after James had moved Gareth. Unless – of course. James could have lost it while he was wrapping Gareth up in the spare room. Amanda shuddered. She’d hardly been in there since. Suze must have found the medallion on one of her mammoth cleaning fits and put it in the jewellery box. It was the only way.
Amanda leaned back. She couldn’t ask Suze about it – that would look odd, and no way did she want to draw attention to James’ medallion. Hadn’t he noticed he’d lost it?
Thinking about James, standing there in his garden so completely flabbergasted, Amanda smiled grimly. Maybe she should pop the St Christophe
r in an envelope and put it through the letter box for him. But no, he didn’t deserve such leniency. She would get into conversation with him over the garden fence one day, hand it over in person and watch him squirm. That was when she would do some plain talking, too. An early-evening stroll was going to be part of Jaden’s new bedtime routine, and one day James would be in the garden alone.
Chapter Five
Saturday 21st June
Helplessness and defeat heavy in his gut, Rick jogged up the hill and turned into Cedar Road. Instead of his usual run he’d wound his way round the local streets today, looking for Amanda’s car, but it was nowhere to be seen. Had it been stupid to think he’d be able to avoid her in a town like St Ives? He didn’t even know if he wanted to avoid her, and the baby that was more than likely his. The fact was, he’d taken the easy way out, telling himself – no, deluding himself that the new little family with Ella and Soraya was his top priority. In reality he was avoiding the Amanda situation, because he wanted to forget Gareth was under the shed. Some days he did forget for an hour or two, but now Amanda had caught up with him and unless he was very careful his new family life was going to be ruined. What was she planning? He could understand she’d moved out of her semi, but – was it coincidence that she’d come to this part of town?
The house was deserted when he arrived home and the car was gone too, so Ella and Soraya must have got fed up waiting for him and gone to do the weekend shop alone. Which, as they only had one car now, meant he couldn’t go to the garden centre for concrete mix until they returned. Rick pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge and poured a generous glassful before stomping upstairs for his shower. This wasn’t a great start to the weekend.
He was towelling his hair when he heard the car pull up outside, and his mood lightened. With any luck he’d be able to start the shed floor before lunch after all. Last night he’d lifted the wood over Gareth’s grave to check there was nothing suspicious to be seen or smelled, in case Soraya insisted on helping with the concrete. He glanced outside – it was windy and warm, a good day for laying concrete. It would dry quickly and the horror beneath the shed would be inaccessible. Gone forever. A picture of Gareth’s face flashed into Rick’s head – empty, slate-coloured eyes staring, but seeing nothing. What would they look like now, those eyes? Rick swallowed. He must not think like this or he’d go mad. It was an accident. End of and get going, Rick, back into Saturday.
