by Casey Watson
Trust John Fulshaw to pour cold water on my happy planning.
It was early evening, and Bella and Tyler were watching an episode of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation together – Ty’s favourite programme, and something they’d taken to doing quite a lot – when John called.
‘I would have come to the house, Casey,’ John said, ‘but what I need to share with you can’t be said if there’s any danger of Bella overhearing.’
So this was something serious. Slipping my head round the living-room door to check both kids were engrossed, I braved the freezing cold weather and took the phone out to the back porch.
It was already dark, of course, and so cold that my wooden seat by the back door had already frosted over, so instead I paced up and down the back path, as he explained what he’d called about.
‘I’m not sure how much of this is post Mr Cummings being discharged from hospital, and running around gathering support,’ he said, ‘or whether they already had a fair bit while he was still in ITU, but it would seem that the police now appear to have a substantial amount of evidence that supports a very different scenario to the one Bella’s mum had them believe. Honest, Casey, you just never know, do you?’
He began quoting snippets at me – presumably gathered following interviews the police had conducted – and I listened in astonishment as he read out statements from neighbours, friends and even work colleagues, all of which suggested that the ‘drunken attack’ on Laura Daniels that had been the presumed order of events wasn’t as clear cut and unprovoked as it seemed.
According to these potential witnesses, Laura Daniels was a world away from the down-trodden wife she had appeared to be. ‘One here,’ John said. I could hear bits of paper being shuffled. ‘She says Laura “regularly taunted her partner by screaming that he wasn’t a real man, and that she could get anyone she wanted at any time”. Another one here – this is from a close neighbour – “a complete hussy. Always gets herself dolled up to go to work” – she worked at a town-centre bar, you’ll remember – “leaving poor Adam at home looking after her kid”.’
There was more. Another ‘friend of the family’ had claimed that Laura was very good at ‘acting the innocent’, but that, in reality, she goaded Adam into fights all the time, and that she was the one who drove him to drink, when all he wanted to do was to kick the habit.
‘It just doesn’t fit,’ I said, trying to get my head around it. ‘We certainly aren’t short of candidates for the title of “concerned citizen” now, are we?’
‘Coming out of the woodwork,’ John agreed.
‘But it’s still weird,’ I said. ‘I mean, I know I haven’t met either Laura or Adam Cummings, but the way that Bella and her mum are – the letters they write and the way Bella pines for her – this picture of her as some loud-mouthed neglectful floosie just doesn’t fit.’
‘I know how it seems, Casey,’ John said. ‘But don’t forget, certain kinds of parents can be very manipulative when trying to impress social services or the police. Truth is that Laura Daniels could be everything she’s described as and be devoted to her daughter. And don’t forget, kids themselves tend to idealise their parents in these situations. She could be the mother from hell – doesn’t mean Bella doesn’t love her to bits.’
That I did know. ‘But the same might apply to Adam Cummings, might it not? He might have that sort of personality – a born charmer. Remember Spencer’s dad? He had everybody fooled.’
Spencer had been a boy we’d fostered a few years back who’d taken himself to social services, and the story was – and everyone had been taken in, and for a long time – that his poor parents didn’t rush to have him back as they simply couldn’t cope with him. That his poor dad, in particular, was at the end of his tether. At his wits’ end, trying to know how to do his best for the boy, while taking care of his other siblings.
Turned out the father was a narcissist who had everyone duped. He’d seemed so plausible, when in reality, in the comfort of his own home, he’d been abusing poor Spencer since babyhood. Neglect. But also mind games, extreme mental cruelty. No, I wasn’t going to take the word of neighbours at face value, even if it was all down in black and white on police notepaper.
‘Good point,’ John admitted. ‘And, at the end of the day, it’s not our business to be worrying about it. Our duty is simply to protect Bella and give her a safe place to stay while the whole sorry mess is sorted out. The question of who is right and who is wrong isn’t ours to ponder. I’m just sharing this with you to prepare you that we might be in for a longer haul than we first thought. You okay with that?’
‘John, you seriously need to ask that?’
‘Just box ticking,’ he said, allowing himself a little chuckle.
But it was a sobering reminder not to try and second guess the outcome of this. Because the truth was that the ultimate box that got ticked now for Bella was where she went next.
And possibly for the rest of her childhood.
It went without saying that none of this information should filter through to our young charge, and that for her life would go on as normal. For which the trip to London was an excellent distraction. I had also badgered Mike remorselessly about how I needed new clothes and shoes – after all, London was practically abroad, as far as I was concerned, so I both needed to look suitably togged up (as, of course, did Bella – the boys had a ‘look’ for all ports of call and all seasons), and have stout walking shoes to step out in, as well.
He finally agreed to the shoes.
So far so good, and the week before half term passed peacefully. No developments transpired, and I was glad that they hadn’t. Due process of law would roll on without us, and perhaps the less we heard while it was doing so, the better.
The mood in the house was as a consequence buoyant – that fact endorsed when Bella had written to her mum, sounding as breathless with excitement as she was in person and, despite John’s new intelligence, I couldn’t help seeing her through Bella’s eyes, and feeling happy that she’d be reassured that her little girl was okay.
But I was about to be thrown another curve ball. It was the Thursday before we were set to go on the Saturday, Tyler at school and Bella in town – since Lauren was making the trip with little Dee Dee, she had offered to take her with them.
With a couple of hours to myself, I’d just returned from the supermarket; I’d decided to stock up on bits and pieces to see Mike over the weekend, even though I knew full well he’d become a roving eating machine given half a chance, alternating between Kieron and Riley’s.
It would be either that or he’d be home eating rubbish all weekend, while sitting watching sports on TV.
I had just stepped into the hall, shopping bags in hand, and kicked the door closed behind me when the doorbell began to ring. Placing my carrier bags down, and still wearing my coat and scarf, I re-opened the door to find a woman standing there, looking decidedly angry. She looked to be in her early thirties, slim, blonde and pink cheeked – obviously cold, despite a thick leather jacket and knee-length boots.
‘So you’re Casey Watson, then?’ were the first words she spat at me.
‘Sorry?’ I asked, confused. ‘Yes. Can I help you?’
The woman looked fit to burst a blood vessel. ‘I’m here to give you a piece of advice, love,’ she said, one hand on her hip. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your nose out of our family business.’
‘Look,’ I said, clutching my scarf to my neck. ‘I don’t know who you are, and I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. So can you please leave before I call the police?’
‘Sounds like something you’d do!’ The woman went on, ‘I’m Adam Cummings’s sister.’ She pointed a finger at me – French manicured, I noticed. ‘And, like I said, you know nothing about anything! Keep your fucking nose out of our business,’ she went on, before I could point out that she’d not, in fact, said that, ‘and don’t even think about slagging my brother off to the co
ppers, okay? And mark my words – if you don’t fucking keep out of it, you’ll be sorry, very sorry!’
So was this our ‘concerned citizen’? I could feel adrenaline begin to pump. I was getting angry now. This bloody woman screaming on my doorstep – who the hell did she think she was?
‘Look,’ I said, raising my own voice now. ‘You are clearly mixing me up with somebody else, but if you have supporting evidence for your brother, then it’s the police you need to speak to – not me. I have nothing to do with any of that. Nothing at all. Now if you’d kindly leave, I’d be very grateful. I’ve heard what you have to say, and I don’t want to hear any more of it.’
She stepped back then, off the doorstep, back to the path, where she stood and glared at me. ‘Too right you’ve heard me,’ she finished. ‘And don’t say you haven’t been warned!’ Then she turned around and stomped off back to the gate.
She didn’t close it, but I stood and watched as it closed on her by itself, watching as she stalked off back down the road without a backwards glance. And as I went back inside, closing the front door, and also locking it, a thought occurred to me. If this woman was Adam’s sister, then why on earth had she not once asked about Bella? How she was. If she was okay. Normal ‘auntie’ type stuff like that.
Adam Cummings’s sister, my foot. Why hadn’t I confronted her? I had to stop myself from running after her.
Chapter 12
I managed to get through to John Fulshaw on his personal mobile number. I only liked to use that in emergency situations: if it was something non-urgent that I needed to tell him out of hours, I generally preferred to leave a message on his work phone.
This wasn’t out of hours, but I knew he wouldn’t be in the office. He’d already told me earlier in the week that he was off at some conference or other, but I knew he wouldn’t mind. This needed reporting now. I knew I would have to also report it to the police, as standard procedure, but I wanted to speak with him before I did that.
‘Yes, of course, Casey, get straight on to the police,’ John said after I’d explained what had happened. ‘And I tell you what, it’s probably a good thing you’ve planned to take Bella away for a few days, as I don’t think her social worker would be too happy about this latest threat.’
‘I agree,’ I said. ‘First thing that occurred to me. But the threat was directed at me and Mike, definitely not Bella. Though, I tell you what, the thing that’s stuck most in my mind is that if she’s her auntie she would surely want to know how Bella was, wouldn’t she? Yet she didn’t even bother to ask. Not once. Didn’t even mention her.’
‘Well, as there’s no love lost between Bella and the other side of the family, I wouldn’t count on that. And he’s her stepdad – not her real father – so perhaps there’s little contact. But I don’t think she can be an aunt of Bella’s because surely we’d all know about her. Yet there’s no mention in any of the paperwork about Adam Cummings having a sister – and that would have been established early on because, had there been one, she might have been able to take her in. Absolute number one scenario social services and the police would have looked at, as you know. Specially when the maternal grandparents were ruled out. Very odd indeed. And not on, dammit. You okay?’
I assured him I was fine – only sorry that I’d not called her out, and after a brief conversation about what should happen next, John told me he would call an emergency strategy meeting for some time the following morning. I told him that I’d arrange for Riley to take Bella out for a couple of hours and that I’d be ready first thing. I then hung up and phoned the police, silently praying, as I reported what had happened, that they wouldn’t take hours to get to me and take my statement. This was an iron that needed striking while it was hot.
I called Lauren then, and quickly explained what had happened, and she agreed to keep Bella till the police had left me and I could give her the all-clear. ‘Leave her for as long as you need to,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell her that you’re still running around trying to get everyone sorted before you go away. She’ll be fine.’
I only hoped I could convince John of that.
Thankfully, the police arrived not long after. One of them was the same officer who had spoken to me after I’d received the letter, and he nodded sagely as he deduced it was likely that it was the same person. ‘I flipping hope so,’ I said with feeling. ‘Either that or he’s got sisters sprouting everywhere!’
My statement made, I then – finally – unpacked all the shopping and, as Mike appeared before Tyler, who was – as per usual – out with Denver, I was able to fill him in too, before instructing him to drive to Kieron’s and get Bella.
‘Bloody hell!’ he said, picking up the jacket he’d only just taken off. ‘Quite a day then. You okay? Must have shaken you up a bit.’
I assured him I was fine – because I was fine. She’d been a scrap of a woman, really. And my principal emotion was one of irritation. How dare she! And who was she? Some girlfriend, I supposed. Some girlfriend who clearly had an axe to grind – but why? It wasn’t as if Adam Cummings was in the dock, after all.
‘I’ll just be glad to get away, to be honest,’ I told Mike, because I was. If only to stop my brain working overtime, thinking about things that I had no business thinking about. She was misguided on that front. I’d never met either of Bella’s parents. Did she really think I’d have any influence in the coming court case?
Or that, ultimately, I’d even be so presumptuous. No, I was definitely glad to be getting away. It was her ‘personal family business’ and she was welcome to it. ‘In fact if I had one of those broomsticks that Bella was raving about,’ I told Mike, ‘I might have already hopped on it and scooted off somewhere exotic. Did wizards scoot?’
Mike laughed. ‘I have no idea. But I imagine so. Actually, love, speaking of exotic places, you remember my mate at work who has the caravan?’
I did, of course. We had rented it from him a few years back, to take away another couple of foster kids, in fact. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Why?’
‘Well, it’s not in Wales any more. He’s moved it to a place in Yorkshire, Primrose Valley I think it’s called, and wouldn’t you know, I was telling him about your madcap trip to London. And he said we were welcome to use it after – you know, for half term. So it’s a shame I can’t get away.’
‘You’re sure you can’t?’
‘You know I can’t.’
‘You’re jealous, aren’t you? Admit it. You want to come and see Platform 9.’
‘Platform nine and three-quarters.’
‘See, you really do. I rest my case.’
John called back first thing the following morning, as I’d known he would, with news of the emergency meeting he’d already promised would need to happen.
‘At your place, if that’s good for you,’ he said. ‘Today, if possible.’
We both knew there was no possible about it. Though I’d tried to put it out of my mind as much as possible, and Bella was completely oblivious, a stone of gloom had lodged itself in my gut and wouldn’t go away. The truth was that she might not even still be with us to go to London. They might even take her away today.
That we’d been tracked down by a member of a child’s family was quite rightly a red flag, since that child’s safety was always going to be paramount. Not to mention ours. And given the backgrounds of some of the children we’d looked after down the years that wasn’t something I was ever going to take lightly. So protocol dictated that the overwhelmingly obvious course of action would be to move Bella to another family as a matter of urgency.
I thought of her upstairs, humming to herself – actually humming – while she made a list of all the things she was going to take on holiday. ‘Yes, that’s fine, John,’ I told him, keeping my voice low. ‘But, you know, we can just as easily have this meeting once we’re back from our weekend away, can’t we? At least let her have that, surely? She’s been so looking forward to it.’
Even as I spoke, I knew what J
ohn’s response had to be. Much as he sympathised, and I knew he did, there were some things that were set in stone, and this was one of them.
‘You know it’s got to be today, Casey,’ he said. ‘Much as I wish it could be otherwise. But, you know, it’s not absolutely a foregone conclusion that she’ll need to leave you.’
‘And a pig just flew past the window,’ I said miserably. And a plague on the ever-extending tentacles of Facebook, I thought, but didn’t say.
‘I know,’ John soothed. ‘Look, I’ve just spoken to Sophie, and her line manager, Kathy Heseltine, and they are both okay for later on this morning. And they can bring along another social worker to take Bella out for lunch or something while we have the meeting. Thought it would be easiest that way. That okay?’
No, it wasn’t okay, grateful as I was for their collective foresight. Being dragged off to some café or park somewhere by a complete stranger was the last thing Bella needed right now. It would only terrify her, wondering about what was going to happen to her next. ‘I’ve already arranged it with Riley,’ I said, because I had been just about to when he’d called and I knew she’d say yes. ‘And she’s happy for me to drop Bella round to hers for a couple of hours. Grateful even. Give her a chance to catch up with all the housework she’s falling behind on while she’s got her nose stuck in Brides magazine. And Bella loves entertaining Marley Mae. What sort of time are you thinking?’
‘Around eleven,’ John said. ‘Or fairly soon after. Would that work for you?’
Not having the meeting at all was what would most work for me, I thought – but, again, didn’t say. None of this was John’s fault. Wasn’t anyone’s fault, truth be known, because I certainly wasn’t blaming Bella. If she’d inadvertently led this woman to us, and that seemed a strong possibility, she’d certainly not done it intentionally. No, it was just another unexpected spanner in the already overstretched works. And we still didn’t even know who the woman really was.
