by Susan Lewis
‘You’re kidding!’ Alex exclaimed. ‘I don’t have time to mess about with bloody tyres.’
‘Speak nicely to Gus,’ Pete Minchin called out, referring to the mechanic who had a workshop at the back of the business park where their hub was located. Pete was their expert in disabled kids and one of only four males, the others being Victor, an amateur wrestler who came in very handy when a bit of muscle was required, and Ben, of course, who didn’t go in for flexing any muscle at all.
‘OK, I’m gone,’ Amina announced, heading back to the door. ‘Wish me luck everyone, cos we definitely don’t want some idiot judge sending Harvey Critchley back to his scumbag uncle.’
Raising a hand to signal his support, Tommy followed Alex to the break-out area where a couple of health visitors from the offices downstairs were making tea and she was peering through the window at her car. ‘It’s not mine with a flat,’ she announced with a sigh of relief. ‘Amina must have spotted someone else’s, same colour, same make. Anyway, rewinding, what am I supposed to be bracing myself for, and if you’re going to get me to write up someone else’s reports ...’
‘No, no, not that,’ he jumped in quickly. ‘Well, we are behind with Sally’s assessments now she’s off sick ...’
‘Just don’t go there, please, you know it’s impossible to read her writing, and besides I’ve got a backlog of my own that I never have time to catch up on.’
‘But you’ll find it, I know,’ he assured her with his most charming smile. ‘Maybe later, when you get back from a little visit to one of the Crowes’ neighbours.’
Alex immediately drew back. ‘No, Tommy, no, no, no,’ she declared, holding up her hands like a cross. ‘You cannot dump the Prince family on me.’
He looked pained. ‘You know I wouldn’t if I could help it.’
‘They’re Victor’s,’ she reminded him.
‘He broke his shoulder at the weekend.’
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘Afraid not, so that means with Christie and Jane both on leave, we’re only sixteen strong at the moment instead of our usual twenty ... Will someone get that phone! So I’m afraid, with everyone else up to their eyes ...’
‘And you think I’m not?’
‘I know you are, but someone has to do it.’
‘But why me? I’ve already got the flaming Crowes.’
He was looking as regretful as he could.
Her eyes narrowed as she suddenly understood. ‘Wendy’s shoving it my way, isn’t she?’ she demanded. ‘Well you can tell her from me ...’
‘Ssh,’ he cautioned. ‘She’s in her office.’
‘Then I’ll tell her myself.’
Yanking her back, he said, ‘Best not do it right now, the chief’s in there with her and you won’t do yourself any favours if you start laying into her in front of him.’
She appeared amazed. ‘I don’t lay into people,’ she protested.
He laughed. ‘No, right, and especially not Wendy.’
Conceding the point, she said, ‘OK, I might make the odd exception in her case, but only because she always does this to me. Everything no one else wants always ends up on my desk.’
‘You could take it as a compliment,’ he suggested, ‘because she knows that whatever it is, you can handle it.’
Seeing right through him, she said, ‘Do you know you’re wasted here? You should be negotiating peace in the Middle East or out there charming kids off the street.’
‘Given the choice I’m happy where I am,’ he retorted drolly. ‘So let me bring you up to speed on the Princes ...’
‘I haven’t said I’ll do it yet.’
‘But we both know you will. So, we’ve had a call from the family GP to say he’s worried about Polly Prince – again.’
‘Oh, you mean the delightful fourteen-year-old daughter who tried to burn down Shirley Little’s house the last time she was taken into care?’
He winced. ‘That would be her, and I guess it wouldn’t be a good idea to try and place her with Shirley again. But that’s not your problem ...’
‘No, mine is getting off that estate alive when her thug of a brother realises I’ve come for his sister.’
‘You’re only going in for a chat,’ he reminded her. ‘Nothing heavy this time around, no taking her in. We just need you to assess the situation.’
‘And who’s coming with me, because I definitely can’t go alone?’
‘Indeed you cannot, which is why I’m not recommending you go when you drop off Daniel later. We can’t spare anyone to accompany you today, so it’ll have to wait until ...’
‘Bloody anonymous callers, they really hack me off,’ Ben complained irritably as he sauntered past on his way to make tea. ‘That’s the second time someone’s rung in about some kid on North Hill.’
‘What about the kid?’ Tommy asked.
‘That’s just it, nothing. All this woman will say is that we ought to go over there and check it out. Not why we should, or what she thinks the problem is, she just wants to waste our time.’
‘Have you made all the usual calls?’ Tommy demanded.
Looking offended, Ben said, ‘Of course, and I’m telling you, there’s not a problem. The mother’s a music teacher, for God’s sake, and the father’s the deputy head at Kesterly Rise. According to our friends in the south hub, he’s very highly thought of, and I found him perfectly polite and helpful when I spoke to him.’
Tommy was frowning. ‘Did he have any idea who the anonymous caller might be?’
‘Yes, apparently she’s a bit of a nutter who tried to cause trouble for him at his previous school. He was pretty upset, actually, because he thought he’d managed to shake her off by moving here, but it seems she’s managed to track him down again.’
As Alex moved away, back to her desk, Tommy said to Ben, ‘Well, just make sure you do everything by the book, you can never be too careful,’ and waving him on he went after Alex. ‘Polly Prince,’ he said, returning her to the subject. ‘I’d go with you myself if I wasn’t going to be on this training course for the next two weeks.’
Alex looked stricken. ‘You’re away for two whole weeks?’ she protested.
‘Tell me that’s not true!’ Saffy Dyer piped up from the next desk. ‘Tommy, you can’t abandon us for that long, we’ll be in chaos by the time you get back. Or jail, if Wendy’s planning on running things.’
‘Ssh,’ Tommy warned, glancing over his shoulder as several others laughed. ‘She’s in there,’ he told Saffy, keeping his voice down.
‘Let it rip,’ Alex advised Saffy. ‘Anyway, it’s me she’s always got it in for, and this proves it, landing me with the Princes.’
‘Oh, bad luck,’ Saffy sympathised.
‘Sort someone out to go with you,’ Tommy told her.
‘Hang on, before you go, has the doctor told the family that he’s been in touch with us again?’ Alex asked.
‘He knows the procedure, so I’m sure he has.’
‘Great,’ Alex muttered. ‘So when I drive on to the estate to take Daniel home, if any of the Princes see me they’re going to think I’m about to make an unannounced visit and probably rip my car to bits before I can even get out of it.’
Not denying the possibility, Tommy said, ‘The best way round that is to set-up an appointment with them before you go to get Daniel. That way, if they do see you today, they won’t be expecting you to drop in on them.’
‘Oh, that makes me feel so much safer,’ she retorted drily. ‘So who’s up for coming with me?’ she asked, looking around, and gave a splutter of laughter as everyone ducked.
As Ben came walking back with his tea, Alex’s eyes went to Tommy.
He was smiling blandly.
‘Don’t even think it,’ she warned. ‘You sent him with me the other day ...’
‘There wasn’t anyone else,’ he murmured, pressing down on her shoulder to stop her going off like a firework.
Since Tommy was fully aware of what a liabili
ty Ben could be in certain situations, not to mention how he always managed to get out of the paperwork, Alex felt reasonably confident Tommy wouldn’t inflict him on her again, at least not for a while. ‘I have to go,’ she said, starting to pack her bag.
‘OK, don’t forget we’ve got a core meeting this afternoon for Hamish Gingell,’ Tommy reminded her as he started back to his office. ‘Ben, have you entered that call in the log, the one about the kid on North Hill?’
‘Just doing it,’ Ben shouted back impatiently.
‘Are either of Hamish’s parents going to be there?’ Alex called out before Tommy could disappear.
‘The mother, apparently. Dad’s gone AWOL again.’
Not especially surprised to hear that, since Hamish Gingell’s father was a long-distance lorry driver who had at least five other children around the country, each of them known to social services for one reason or another, Alex scrunched back her hair, made a quick check of her mobile phone and started for the door. The chances of Hamish being returned to his mother in the near future were not looking good, since he had not yet shown any signs of abandoning a longfelt desire to reunite his little sister with her Maker.
On reaching the door she suddenly remembered she needed to set-up a visit to the Princes’ home, so with a quick pirouette she was back at her desk, searching the computer for a number.
‘Hello, is that Mrs Prince?’ she asked politely when a female voice answered the phone.
‘Who wants to know?’ came the snappish reply.
‘I’m calling from social services ...’
‘Fuck off,’ and the line went dead.
‘Mm, that seems to have gone well,’ Saffy commented drily.
Alex raised her eyebrows. ‘I have a way with me,’ she responded with a bit of a swagger. ‘And did I just hear you say you’d come with me when I go? That is so cool, I knew I could count on you.’
‘Believe me, I’d be there if I didn’t have this telly thing hanging over me,’ Saffy lied, ‘but you know how it is ...’ Being of Somali origin, Saffy was currently helping an undercover TV researcher to expose the rumoured practice of genital mutilation in the local Somali community. Since Alex couldn’t imagine anything more abhorrent being visited on a child – well, she could, because she’d seen it all too often, but it was right up there along with the worst – she was more than ready to accept that Saffy’s priorities were in the right place.
Ten minutes later she was in her car, driving out of the dreary old business park, when she spotted a young family heading into one of the out-of-town furniture stores. Her heart immediately lifted. A small girl with a long blonde ponytail was riding her daddy’s shoulders, while the mother was pulling funny faces at a baby in a buggy. It was a warming and welcome reminder of the millions of happy homes there were in the world, places were children were safe and loved and couldn’t, thank God, even begin to imagine the kind of horrors those in Alex’s care so often had to face.
On reaching the seafront she cast a quick glance out to the horizon and guessed she might just manage to pick up Daniel before the storm hit. There again, it might do its worst, and wait till she was delivering him to his front door to start chucking about a few thunderbolts: nature’s symphonic accompaniment to the highlight of her day.
Turning inland past the public swimming pool to join the road that snaked up over the southerly headland to the leafier suburbs of town, she began compiling a list in her mind of all the case notes and assessments she needed to write up when she returned to the office. Annie Ashe, once a drunken, obese, horribly depressed single mother of two, now a totally reformed character, stood a very good chance of getting her kids back. Family Support Services had worked wonders with her; her weight had now dropped from a massive twenty-four stone down to fifteen – and she was still dieting, she’d assured Alex yesterday with a beaming smile that was apparently receiving some dental attention. And she hadn’t touched a drop of the hard stuff since the awful day Alex had been forced to move her children into care. Annie hadn’t fought the decision, she’d been too crushed and disgusted with herself even to try. She’d known she wasn’t coping, and the tears she’d shed when she’d admitted that she had no idea when she’d last cooked a decent meal for Becks, her son, and Vicci, her little girl, never mind got them to take a bath, had made Alex more determined than ever to turn things around for her.
Now, she was very close to recommending that the children could return to their mother on a full-time basis, rather than just for weekend visits, and the fact that Annie had recently found the confidence to apply for a job as a part-time cleaner was going to work massively in her favour.
Then there was Tyrone Miller, whose so-called uncle (in other words mother’s new boyfriend) was a slimeball of the first order. Alex was sure the boy was being kept locked in his room when he wasn’t at school, but neither Tyrone nor his mother would admit to it, and so far Alex had been unable to prove it.
Always her biggest problem, being able to prove the offences she felt sure were being committed.
As she began running through Jessie Moore’s case – a twelve-year-old bundle of fury and loathing whose mother had died a couple of years ago and whose guardian aunt kept throwing her out on the street – she heard her personal mobile ringing and started to dig around for it in her bag. With a quick glance she saw it was Jason, and hoping there were no police around she clicked on.
You think rules were written just for you to break, she could almost hear her mother, Myra, sighing.
‘Hi, everything OK?’ she asked, slowing to go over a speed bump on Tannet’s Hill.
‘Yeah, I’m cool, you?’
‘Busy day, but coping. Please tell me you’re still on for the tech run later.’
‘Absolutely. As luck would have it I’m going to end up close to home for my last appointment today, so I’ll probably be there before you.’
Being a builder with his own small business he’d presumably been asked by a neighbour to take a look at something, which was great, if it turned into cash, because he hadn’t been inundated with it lately. ‘That’s brilliant,’ she told him. ‘It’ll give me a chance to drop into the care home to check on our dear old ex-neighbour Millie on my way back, seeing as she was asleep when I went on Sunday. Did you get a text from Gabby about the weekend?’
‘I did. Are you sure you want to go all the way to Devon the day after opening night?’
‘It’s only a forty-minute drive, depending on traffic, and I don’t want to let her down. Does it work for you?’
‘Sure, but I’ll have the kids that day, remember.’
Alex’s heart sank. She’d forgotten, or more likely wiped it out of her mind.
‘Provided it’s all right with Gabby,’ Jason continued, ‘I guess there’s no reason why we can’t take them too.’
Thinking there were quite a few reasons, such as how mean his eldest could be to the twins, she refrained from saying so and replied sweetly, ‘That would be lovely. Don’t you have them one night this week as well?’
‘Thursday,’ he confirmed. ‘Is that OK, do you mind?’
‘Of course not,’ she lied. ‘I’ll think of something special to cook for them. Or maybe we’ll bring them into town for a pizza.’
‘They’d like that. Now, I guess I should let you go. Call me when you’re on your way home. Actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about after the tech run. Nothing bad, so don’t start getting worked up about it.’
Laughing, she assured him she wouldn’t, and after ringing off she spent the next few minutes trying to imagine what it might be and not doing a very good job of stopping her thoughts from hiking off down the matrimonial aisle. However, the issues of her day were soon crowding to the front of her mind again as she indicated to turn into the Fenns’ drive and found the way partially blocked by a very sleek Mercedes. Managing to squeeze her Punto in off the kerb behind it, she scooped up her bag and went to knock on the front door.
; ‘Coming!’ a voice called from inside, and a moment later Maggie Fenn was ushering her in. ‘Sorry about the lack of parking,’ she said. ‘That amazing beast belongs to my brother, Anthony. He leaves it here sometimes while he goes fishing with friends, over on the Taw. They take it in turns to drive. He’s a barrister,’ she added proudly. ‘In London.’
Touched and amused by her pride, Alex said, ‘So how did you get along with Daniel at the weekend?’
Maggie brightened. ‘Actually, very well indeed,’ she declared. ‘In fact, we’re feeling rather sorry to see him go.’
Alex wasn’t quick enough to hide her surprise.
Maggie Fenn smiled. ‘He’s very good company,’ she told her quietly. ‘My goodness, the stories he can tell ... Oliver has really taken a shine to him. You’ll see.’
Not sure she wanted to imagine Daniel’s stories, while delighted to hear that he’d got along with Oliver, Alex said, ‘I have to admit, this wasn’t exactly what I expected to hear, but it pleases me no end.’
Maggie gave her a wink and turned to look up the stairs as her husband came halfway down. ‘Maggie, I think you’ll have to go to Oliver,’ he said. ‘He’s getting himself into a bit of a state up here.’
‘Oh dear, poor love. He’s been dreading this moment,’ she told Alex. ‘How’s Daniel bearing up?’ she asked Ron.
‘He’s in his room finishing off his packing.’
Maggie turned back to Alex. ‘Would you like to come up?’ she invited.
Not entirely sure Daniel would want her to, Alex tried to find an excuse, but Maggie Fenn was already leading the way.
‘We popped down the coast a way, yesterday,’ she was saying as she climbed the stairs. ‘Ron thought the boys would enjoy a spot of fresh air and they certainly seemed to.’
‘It sounds as though you’ve given them a fabulous time,’ Alex commented, admiring the family photographs that covered the walls. Most seemed to be of the Fenns’ son and daughter, but there were others that Alex guessed were various foster-children from down the years.
