by Carla Kovach
‘Thank you. I might just be in the market for one of those. What time did you say the doctor was coming around?’
‘He’s due in about half an hour. I’ll let him know you’re here though. He’ll probably finish up with the patient he’s with and come and see you,’ the nurse replied as she left. Gina felt around the rubbish in her pocket, moving receipts and crumpled tissues aside before finding a few coins to buy a coffee with. As she fed the coins in the machine, she noticed another liver spot appearing on the back of her hand. Her forty-six years were beginning to show and the stress Hannah was putting her under certainly wasn’t helping. Her reflection in the coffee machine revealed that she also needed to dye her roots.
She lifted a plastic chair from the pile and placed it next to the baby’s cot and sat. Steam arose from the cup, warming her cold nose. She gripped the warm cup with both hands and looked at the baby. ‘Who left you there, little baby?’ she thought as she took another sip of coffee. The infant slept peacefully, a feeding tube neatly inserted into her nose.
Gina had been twenty-three when her daughter Hannah was born. She’d been a sleepy baby, just like the little one in front of her, except for the night of the thunderstorm, the night her mind kept getting drawn back to. Despite trying to move on from the past that haunted her, Gina’s bad memories were as tattooed in her mind as every gruesome crime scene she’d ever attended.
Despite Hannah’s most recent demands, attending her husband’s memorial service was out of the question. He’d been gone a long time, too long for any memorial service but Hannah had arranged it and insisted on having it. Gina didn’t want to remember. She was being forced to remember a past that would never leave her alone.
‘Good morning. DI Harte? Doctor Nowak.’ An older gentleman entered the room, holding his bony hand out towards her. Standing, Gina shook his hand. ‘The baby is doing fine. It may all look a little scary with the tube and monitors, but her weight dropped and we wanted to make sure she was well nourished. We’ll be removing that in a few hours. She isn’t sedated, just sleeping.’ Gina detected a slight accent as the doctor spoke. ‘How can I help you? We gave all the information we had to your DC Wyre last night.’
Gina brushed her creased trousers with her hands and scraped away a stray hair that was stuck to her face. ‘I know, and thank you for your assistance. The news of the baby has been released on the local news this morning. I’m just asking that you and the hospital staff keep an eye out for anyone acting suspiciously. The mother may come to the hospital to catch a glimpse of her baby and we are worried – as I know you are too – about her physical and mental health.’
The doctor lifted his glasses from the chain that hung around his neck and put them on. He grabbed the chart and scanned it as he spoke. ‘And I totally understand that. We will do everything we can to assist you with your enquiry. I will send out an immediate memo to all hospital staff.’ He clipped the chart to the end of the cot and walked towards the door. ‘I best get on with my rounds,’
‘Yes, thank you for your time.’ Gina listened as his footsteps disappeared down the long corridor. A chorus of babies cried in the distance. Gina turned to look at the infant in front of her. This baby hadn’t cried; this baby had barely moved; this baby had been deprived of her first moments to bond with her mother. The girl brought her little legs towards her chest, removing the blanket as she did so. Gina crept over towards the cot and pulled the blanket back over the baby. Although the hospital was kept at a warm temperature, she still felt a chill coming from the winter air as doors were opened and closed. She brought her hand gently towards the little one’s head and stroked her fine hair before leaving.
As she reached the nurses’ station, she searched for the nurse she’d spoken to on her arrival. The young dark-haired woman appeared from a side room. ‘Doctor Nowak’s sending a memo around shortly,’ said Gina. ‘Could you please be extra vigilant of anyone loitering or visiting? Here’s my card, should you need to report anything.’
The nurse smiled and took the card. ‘Will do,’ she replied. She left Gina standing alone as she continued with her duties. Gina pressed the release buzzer and left the ward, leaving the crying babies behind. As she turned onto the main corridor, she watched a man trailing a drip and wearing pyjamas. The two women and the child walking beside him bore a familial resemblance.
Who was she looking for? Someone who was alone, someone who looked scared, someone who was anxiously trying to find a way of checking on the baby without looking suspicious. The corridor was dotted with people.
Two nurses wheeled a man on a bed into a lift. A woman with a child got out of the lift, followed by a tall man wearing a woollen hat and wrapped in a scarf. He bumped her arm as he passed. She turned to see him rubbing his neck, but he didn’t look back. ‘Sorry,’ Gina called. The man continued walking without acknowledging her apology. She turned and watched as he slowed down outside the ward. She hadn’t caught his features as he passed. He bent down and tied a shoelace before continuing towards the coronary ward.
She shook her head, checked her phone and picked up the pace. There’s no way she could vet every passer-by in the next five minutes. The man with the woollen hat had gone, and another man wearing a huge smile, carrying a box of chocolates, walked into view from the other direction and entered the maternity ward.
She looked at her watch. Hannah was bringing Gracie, her granddaughter, over that evening for a visit. Her phone beeped as she left the hospital and her signal returned. It then rang. ‘Jacob,’ she said, as she snatched the car keys from her pocket.
‘Are you on your way back? Wyre has had a mass of calls to process.’
‘Sure am. See you in a few minutes,’ she replied, as she started the engine up and headed straight back to the station.
Seven
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can put lunch on for you,’ Cathy called up the stairs.
Luke hung up his shirt and slipped his blue jumper over his head. He slapped a bit of aftershave on his chin and smiled at his reflection. His teeth were clean, he still had most of his fair hair and all the coffee he’d consumed earlier in the day ensured that he still looked awake. He’d made it home from the house viewing just in time to pick Max and Heidi up from Jake’s birthday party, but he needed to hurry. He glanced once more at his reflection. He had to make an effort to move on. Brooke was good for him.
‘Luke?’ she called again. He swallowed as he took the photo of Debbie from his bedside table and placed it in the top drawer.
‘Sorry, I was in a world of my own. You should get off home and have some rest. You do too much for us. There’s a box of your favourite chocolate truffles on the side,’ he said as he ran down the stairs and grabbed his coat. He checked his watch. Brooke would be knocking in several minutes. He was early, and he was staring at the door. It wasn’t like he’d never been on a date before. After all, he was thirty-eight years old. And walking to another kid’s house to collect their respective kids was hardly a date. After being friends for almost two years, he hadn’t been sure he was ready to risk it all and try for a relationship, but things had just happened. He listened as Cathy put the plates away in the kitchen.
He’d found it hard to focus that day, preoccupied with thoughts of their kiss the previous evening. They’d spent the rest of the night texting each other. Awkwardness had turned into a natural fondness. For the first time since… He looked down and ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t live in the past any longer.
He didn’t know what had happened or where she’d gone, but it had been four long years and Debbie hadn’t tried to contact them at all. No one had seen her and initial police investigations and appeals had come back with nothing. He flinched as his fist hit the wall and a tear escaped down his cheek. He’d spent weeks, months even, drinking in the Angel Arms, scrutinising everyone, but he’d come up with nothing but a continuous hangover. He’d watched her workplace as the men arrived and left until it had
become all-consuming. Cathy had eventually pulled him out of the gutter, and she’d been there for him and the kids every day since.
Everyone told him that it was time to move on. Even Cathy, Debbie’s own mother, had encouraged him. ‘Brooke’s a nice young lady,’ she’d say. He shrugged it off every time. But he’d been lonely since Debbie’s disappearance, and while he’d never stop thinking about her, he needed to live, he needed a life. His children needed some normality back in their lives and Brooke represented that normality.
Cathy trudged into the hall, holding the chocolates in one hand and her overcoat in the other. ‘I love these but you didn’t have to. I know money’s tight and you have my lovely grandchildren to bring up. The washing-up is all put away.’
He took the coat out of her arms and held it up for her. ‘I’ve sold some expensive houses this month, Cathy. And I want you to always know that we’re grateful for everything you do. I don’t know how we’d manage without you. Thanks for everything.’
Cathy smiled as she buttoned her coat up. ‘I see you took my advice.’
‘What advice was that?’
‘Brooke. I think she’s lovely. I’m happy for you. Max and Heidi love her, and they love little Joe. Really, I’m happy for you.’
Luke scratched his neck. He felt a warm itchiness spreading over his shoulder and climbing up his face. He knew Cathy could see the redness forming. She’d always sensed his anxiety with uncanny precision. Her slightly trembling hand reached for his cheek. She stroked it as if to stroke the redness away. Her serious expression turned into a smile, and he forced a smile back. He had Cathy’s blessing, his friends all liked Brooke, his kids liked her, too – so why did he feel so guilty? He twisted his wedding ring around. He’d lost weight since Debbie’s disappearance. The ring would slip off easily. He pulled the ring up his finger and felt a lump forming in his throat. Anything he did would have to happen slowly. Whatever his future might hold, he still had a past that was hard to let go of. He didn’t want to let it go.
His years with Debbie had been the best of his life. Cathy, an older version of her daughter, was a daily reminder of what he grieved for. Her tiny nose and large hazel eyes made him think of Debbie. Her voice was slightly more hoarse than Debbie’s, but he could still hear the similarities. The way she poured tea, walked, tended to the garden and hugged the kids was so like Debbie. He pushed the ring back down. Brooke understood that things were difficult for him. They were difficult for her too. As a young woman who’d lost her husband to cancer only three years earlier, she still wore her ring. They didn’t need to explain it to each other; they just knew. They’d both been very much in love with their past partners.
Cathy wiped away the tear that was rolling down his cheek. ‘She wouldn’t want this, you being unhappy.’ She paused. ‘We might never know what happened. In fact, the more time that passes by, the more I lose confidence that we’ll ever know—’ Cathy placed her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. ‘She would want you and the children to be happy. I want you to be happy too. Damn it, this is hard. I love you like a son and I love those children with my life, and you have my blessing. You’re a good man, Luke, and you deserve all the happiness in the world. I’m always here for you.’ She opened her eyes, stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him once on the cheek. ‘You smell lovely, and that new jumper is really you.’ She opened the door and left, waving as she reached the gate. ‘Give the munchkins a kiss from Nanny.’
‘Will do, see you tomorrow. We love you too – and thanks for putting the Christmas tree up!’ He closed the door and fell against the wall. Cathy was right. He loved Brooke’s company, and he was going to try and make it work. He paced up and down, waiting for the knock on the door. He glanced at his watch again. A couple of minutes to go.
He ran to the kitchen, grabbed a packet of mints from the drawer and crunched on one. He stared into the garden. Max’s goalpost leaned upright against the back fence. The sandpit the kids were too old for was filled with murky water.
He looked at the family photo that was perched on the windowsill. Debbie was holding baby Max while he was holding Heidi. He remembered that Heidi had been a little terror during that photo shoot. The more they’d tried to placate her, the worse she’d become. They’d put it down to jealousy. He remembered picking her up and hugging her, explaining that Mummy and Daddy loved her ‘more than ice cream and chocolate sauce’. For one moment, he’d got her to smile. The photo in front of him had been taken at that exact moment. The rest of the day had continued as a tantrum fest. He picked up the photo and traced Debbie’s outline. She hadn’t been sure of the photo shoot and had spent the morning complaining about her baby weight. She looked a little puffy in the face, but he loved her puffiness. He loved everything about her. She’d given him two beautiful, healthy children. She had made their family and for that he’d given his whole self to her.
There was a knock at the door. He placed the photo back on the sill. ‘I’ll always love you, Deb,’ he whispered as he pulled the blind down over the photo, shutting out the drizzly weather and the memories of a long-gone chapter in his life.
He grabbed an umbrella from the stand and opened the door. Brooke smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. He placed his arm around her waist and kissed her back. ‘So, you don’t regret last night?’ she asked.
He stroked her damp hair and looked into her eyes. Debbie would always be in his heart, but his heart was big enough to give more love. He shook his head and smiled. ‘I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.’
‘Me too,’ she replied as she took his hand and led him towards Jake’s house. He knew the other parents would talk, but he didn’t care. He’d been a devoted husband and Brooke had been a devoted wife. They were both just two people with a lot of love to give and they’d found each other. The rain fell heavier. He put the umbrella up and pulled Brooke closer to him. She bit her bottom lip, brushed her curly blonde hair away from her face and smiled. Maybe he was ready to finally say goodbye to Deborah.
Eight
A cockerel screeched in the distance. Debbie smiled, savouring the sound of the outside world. She placed her ear against the wall, hoping to hear it a little clearer. Occasionally she’d hear vehicles rumble by. She knew she was by a road and that it was likely a minor one. It was probably only an access road, given the number of vehicles that used it. On a still day, she was sure she could hear the hum of traffic. Maybe there was a dual carriageway or a motorway in the distance. She had no idea where she was, except that it was rural and she was being kept in a cold, two-storey outbuilding.
The night she’d been taken haunted her. At six thirty that evening she’d left work for the bus stop. She normally finished at five but she’d been making up time after watching Heidi’s Christmas play earlier in the day. Luke had nagged her for years to take her driving test again, but earlier failures and her near miss of an elderly man crossing the road on a mobility scooter had rendered her phobic of driving. She pondered the ‘what ifs’ over and over again, until they’d driven her crazy. That Friday, the twentieth of December, was the beginning of what was to become her nightmare.
* * *
The orange glow of lamplights led Debbie through the deserted industrial estate. Rain bounced off her umbrella as she passed a factory and scurried alongside the closed snack van. A cat darted across the path and a small van narrowly missed hitting it. Water seeped into her shoes; her toes had been numb for a good five minutes already. Then the van stopped in the road beside her, the driver like some sort of hero in a warm vehicle. As his window came down, the sound of Christmas filled the air. Mariah Carey sang, ‘All I want for Christmas is you.’ The scent of his vanilla air freshener travelled with the breeze, filling her nostrils.
‘Hop in. I’ve just got to collect something from the electrical unit around the corner before they close. You look like you could use a lift,’ he said with a warm smile.
Although she didn’t know him well, she�
��d always thought him to be polite in passing. Did she know him well enough to get in the van? She thought of the things she would say to her own children. She always told them never to get in anyone’s car, familiar or not. ‘I’ll be okay,’ she called. He scrunched his brow and placed his hand by his ear as he beckoned her over. The music overpowered every sound around them. She stepped closer to the open window and leaned in, shouting over the noise. ‘I’m fine, but thanks for the offer. I’m heading to the shop and it’s only a few minutes down the path. I have a few bits to do first. It was really kind of you to offer though.’ But before she had the chance to stand upright, he leaned across the passenger seat and up towards her. The sharp prick in her neck made her wince. ‘What? Why?’ she managed to mumble as the drug began to take effect. She stumbled away from the car. The orange glowing lamps seemed to fall from the sky and block her way. She staggered, trying to avoid them, one step after another. As she pushed further, her legs felt like they were slowly being filled with cold sand, until she could no longer run. She fell to her knees, landing in a freezing cold puddle. He grabbed her from behind. She tried to yell but no sound came out.
‘You need to get in the van where it’s warm. I’ll look after you, keep you safe,’ he said as he kissed her head. He dragged her unresponsive body across the rough pavement. Her shoe – she was losing her shoe. She tried to clench her floppy feet but gave up and her loose shoe slipped off. The heaviness, the lights, even the stars were blurring into a strange light beam. She gasped as he bundled her helpless body into the back of the van. Wizzard sang ‘I wish it could be Christmas every day’ – one of her all-time favourites. The overpowering smell of his vanilla air freshener left a lasting memory before the darkness filled her mind and ended the ordeal.
