He didn’t move much either. I don’t know, she thought, they’re much the same, Molly and her husband. Both frozen in time and place. They were not only finding it hard to move, but also finding it hard to communicate with her - and she with them sometimes.
After she’d made her tea, she took it over to the settee and turned on the television, flicking through the channels to find something of interest. Eventually she settled on Daybreak, it being gossipier and celebrity driven than the more formal news stuff on the other channels. She’d had enough horror in her own life, without hearing about other peoples’.
She was so used to no one speaking to her the majority of the time, that she jumped when Alan interrupted a particularly interesting piece on fashion that she was watching. Not that she had much money for new outfits, but it was nice to see what the rest of the world was wearing, so she snapped at him in annoyance.
“What? What did you say?” she grumbled over her shoulder. “Where’s Molly? Where do you think she is? She’s in her cot.” She turned to look at him and listened for a moment. “No, she’s not making any noise is she,” she replied. “She never makes any bloody noise. It’s all very well for her to be a big comfort to me. For me to have a baby to hold in my arms again, but, well, I just wish… I wish she’d do more; you know?”
By now Alan had completely interrupted the piece on fashion, so she gave him her full attention. After all she did want him to stay around and he might go away if she wasn’t nice to him. So she listened intently to what he had to say next.
“Get another one?” she asked. After a moment’s thought she continued, “You know, you could have a point there, Alan. Because the thing is Molly isn’t growing. That Julie I told you about, well she said Molly was a bit small for her age. Well she would be, this Molly is only three months old and our Molly would be nearer five by now. Babies grow a lot in that time. I tell you what, I’ll just have my tea, then go and take a look on the computer. I think I remember seeing that you could get the babies tailored to your own needs, so I’ll give it a go. Not that I want to get rid of this Molly, Alan. I do love her, I just want her to do a bit more, cry, laugh, chuckle, anything would be good, you know?”
Alan told her he understood and he was sure his clever wife could sort something out. She preened under his praise and rushed over to turn the computer on. Bugger getting dressed, she thought, she could do that later.
18
The door of Kerry Chandler’s apartment was a cheery red, incongruous within the context of the mainly concrete structure. As Crane looked along the landing, he saw the doors of the other dwellings were painted in equally bright colours. The apartments were on one side of the landing and on the other a bright blue railing had been constructed atop the concrete wall, whether for show or to stop inebriated residents falling to their deaths, Crane wasn’t sure. The whole block had a rugged industrial feel to it, a sort of urban chic, that it didn’t quite pull off, for on closer inspection the front doors were chipped and scuffed and the railings going rusty on the underside.
Billy knocked on the door of flat 6B. A muffled voice called, “Just a minute,” accompanied by mumbles and the clatter of dishes. When no-one had opened the door after a minute or so, Billy knocked again, louder and shouted “Mrs Chandler, Royal Military Police here, can we have a word?”
After much fumbling and turning of locks, the door was opened on a secure chain and a pale, freckled female face looked through the slit.
Crane and Billy held up their identification badges, which they wore around their necks.
“Mrs Kerry Chandler?” Crane enquired.
The woman nodded her head several times but didn’t speak.
“Sgt Major Crane and Sgt Williams from the Branch on Aldershot Garrison. Can we come in please?”
His question was considered, then after more nodding of her head, Kerry opened the door and let them in.
As Crane stepped inside with Billy, they were immediately in a small living area. He could see two doors on one side of the room, both of which were open. One revealed a small kitchen, whose work surfaces were covered with packages of food and dirty dishes and the other a small bathroom. That had a linen basket on view, which was overflowing with dirty clothes. Towels were strewn over the floor as if there had been a leak and they’d been used to soak up the water. The door on the opposite wall was also open, showing an unmade bed and just the corner of what looked like it could be a wooden cot.
“Sorry to disturb you, Mrs Chandler, we just wondered if we could talk to you for a few minutes.”
“Yes, um, yes, why don’t you sit down and please, call me Kerry.”
Crane looked uncertainly at the shabby lumpy settee, but decided to risk it as Billy sat beside him and Kerry sat down gingerly on the armchair opposite them.
“Kerry, do you know that a baby was left at the Garrison Church a few weeks ago?”
“Um, yes, I read about it in the paper.”
Kerry was perched right on the front of her chair and seemed to be squirming to get comfortable, but Crane couldn’t see that she’d sat on anything other than the chair seat.
“Well, we’re contacting all Army personnel who have a baby about that age, such as yourself.”
“Army personnel?” Kerry’s question came out as a squeak. Clearing her throat, she continued, “I’m not Army personnel. I stopped having anything to do with the Army the day my husband died.”
Crane saw that talking about the Army changed the young woman’s demeanour from mouse to lion so quickly, he thought he might have imagined it. But no, he could see the anger in the flashing of her green eyes and the stiffening of her red-haired head.
“So I really don’t think you have any authority here, do you?” she finished.
“Please, Kerry, we’re very sorry for your loss,” Crane looked at Billy who nodded his agreement. “We just wanted to ask if you knew of any mothers who had a child and now don’t. We just want to trace the parents of the poor baby that was left at the church and help them, that’s all.”
“Oh, sorry. It’s just that the Army’s a bit of a sore point, you know?”
His conciliatory words had seemed to mollify the woman, but Crane decided to take a different tack with his questions, rather than antagonise her further. Her mood changes were rather alarming.
“How long have you lived here, Kerry?”
“Oh, a few months now. The council got me this place.”
“Yes, I thought they would have done. It’s a good flat,” he said looking around.
“Thank you. It’s a good job I’d just done the housework before you arrived,” she said. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to think I lived in a mess.”
Crane thought that a very strange comment, as the flat was unspeakably muddled and very definitely not clean. At least not by his standards. But then he knew civilians didn’t have the same standards as soldiers. A fact pointed out to him by his wife, many times over the course of their marriage.
“You just said, I, Kerry,” Billy pointed out. “Don’t you mean we lived in a mess? You do have a baby don’t you?”
Kerry blushed, a fiery red stain spreading upwards from her neck all the way to her sculpted cheek bones. She tossed her mane of ginger curls and said, “Of course I do, she’s called Molly.”
Deliberately grinning, feeling like a crocodile smiling a false smile, Crane said, “What a lovely name. May we see her?”
“See her?” Kerry echoed and started plucking at the jumper she was wearing over leggings. Her feet were bare and as her legs were crossed, she was swinging one of them.
“Yes, I’d love to see her,” said Crane “I’ve a boy just coming up to one year old and I love seeing other people’s children. They’re all so different aren’t they?” Crane stood. “In the bedroom is she?” he asked and walked over to the door, standing half in and half out of the room. “Ah, yes,” he called. “She must be sound asleep; she’s not even moving. Come and look, Billy,” and Crane used
calling for Billy as an excuse to move further into the room.
Molly was lying on her front, her head turned sideways away from him, towards the wall. He could just see a pink cheek and curly blond hair that spilled onto the pillow. Her arms were outstretched and she had dainty little hands with perfect miniature nails on them.
Crane nodded to Billy and they both left the bedroom and walked towards the flat door.
“She really is beautiful, Kerry.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Well, we’ll be off now and if you do think of anyone whose baby may have died, give me a ring would you? Remember, we only want to help,” and he handed Kerry a card with his name and telephone numbers on and then opened the front door. As they stepped out onto the landing, the door was immediately pushed closed behind them.
Crane and Billy looked at each other, but didn’t speak until they were back at their car.
“W-ie-rd,” said Billy.
“I definitely think she has some issues,” said Crane. “Mind you, who wouldn’t in her situation?”
“That flat smelled disgusting,” Billy wrinkled his nose at the memory. “Did she really think it was clean?”
“Buggered if I know. If so, it could just be a reflection of her distraught emotional state at the moment. Still, at least she had a baby. Mind you, I didn’t see her move.”
“Move?”
“Yes. Daniel can’t seem to keep still sometimes when he sleeps. Always snuffling, or shuffling. Molly seemed unnaturally still by comparison.”
“I wouldn’t know about that, boss, being footloose and fancy free myself. But there’s not much else we can do. She has a baby and that’s that.”
As they got in the car and drove to the next address on their list, something was bugging Crane. Poking at his brain, but just out of recollection. As he pulled up outside the next soldier’s quarter, he had it. He turned to Billy and said, “Don’t you think Molly looked remarkably like the dead baby we found?”
Molly #2
At last the second doll had arrived. Kerry had spent the past few days anxiously looking out of the window, watching for the delivery van. In fact, she had been altogether rather anxious since the visit by the two men from the Branch. She didn’t know much about the Branch, only that Alan always said they were the ones who investigated the more serious crimes. She guessed leaving a dead baby in the church doorway counted as something quite serious. But she’d managed to get through the interview. She thought she’d done rather well, actually. Although Alan wasn’t at all impressed with being sat on. But as she’d explained to him, she couldn’t very well stand when there was what appeared to be an empty chair in the room. Anyway all that was behind her now. She was sure they’d leave her alone after seeing Molly in her cot.
At last the time for the grand unwrapping had come. Kerry put Molly in her highchair and pulled it next to the settee, so she could watch as well as Alan, who was sitting in his armchair as usual. Both of them eying Kerry keenly while she undid the package. Molly was very excited about having a sister. As she worked, Kerry explained to her that it wasn’t that mummy didn’t love her anymore, it was just that, just that (Kerry stumbled a bit over this part of the explanation) it was just that her sister would be able to do more things than Molly could. It was all part of growing up, she explained. As babies get older, they are able to do more. Molly appeared satisfied with that and so Kerry got on with opening the box.
As she revealed the reborn to her expectant family, Kerry experienced a huge surge of pride. She might not come from a very good social background and she had to admit that she and her mum had been very poor. But she had learned a lot from her mother, especially about how not to treat children. And it was because of that bad start in life that she was now excelling at looking after her own family - even if she did say so herself.
Kerry lifted the baby out of her box, reverently. Holding her as though she were made of porcelain. A collective gasp filled the room. The baby was absolutely beautiful. She had Molly’s blond hair (Kerry had decided this should be a family trait out of respect for Alan and Molly) peeking out of a small woollen cap. She was weighted just like Molly, but this time her head didn’t need extra support, the new baby being that bit older and a whole two inches longer. Dressed in adorable pink PJ’s decorated with little white fluffy dogs, she was able to sit up on Kerry’s knee. Her blue eyes, framed by dark eyelashes, were wide in amazement at the first sight of her new family and she seemed about to chuckle with happiness. You could even see her tiny pink tongue through her open mouth and a couple of teeth were poking out of her bottom gum. Kerry was glad about that, not wanting to have too much trouble with teething.
Kerry had prepared for the new baby girl and had batteries to hand, under the coffee table. Turning the baby onto her front and un-popping her sleep suit, Kerry inserted the batteries and redressed the child. Turning her back over, Kerry laid her along her knees and put her finger to the tiny hand, holding her breath, waiting for the child to respond. And then it happened. It was truly a miracle, just like the advert had said. The child curled her hand around Kerry’s finger!
“Oh my God, Alan, look, look what she’s just done,” Kerry gabbled and quickly removed her finger, only to see the child’s hand open again. “She can grab my finger, she can, Alan, look, look I tell you,” and Kerry repeated the movement so Alan could watch the baby grasp her finger.
Holding the child over her shoulder, she leaned her ear to the tiny chest. She felt the gentle up and down movements of the little one’s rib cage as the child breathed in and out, in and out, in and out. Kerry became mesmerized. Holding a child that breathed, grabbed her finger and smelled so sweetly of talcum powder was almost more than she could bear. It brought the memories of holding Molly when she was first born rushing back in a torrent of emotion that she couldn’t contain. Her tears spilled unhindered down her cheeks. This time her daughter truly had been returned to her, she was sure of it.
It was Alan’s cough that brought her back from those precious memories. Kerry manoeuvred the little one round until she was sitting on her knee. As the new baby was looking around at Alan and Molly, Kerry supported her with one hand and with the other rooted through the packaging. Her hand closed over a piece of paper and she pulled it out, thinking it would just be a delivery note. But it was something far more exciting.
“Look, Alan, it’s a Birth Certificate, all ready for us to fill in. Here, you have your first cuddle with her while I get a pen.”
The new baby fitted into the crook of Alan’s arm, as though she had always meant to be there. Kerry knew that he was hurting too and needed to be healed by the baby’s touch, as she had just been. Realising that the two of them needed to be left alone for a moment, to bond, she turned away and went into the kitchen. Rummaging through the kitchen drawers she found a pen. “Got one,” she called as she ran back into the sitting room. “Right, we first have to decide on a name.”
She looked expectantly at Alan and then Molly, but didn’t get a reply.
“Come on, you two,” she said. “One of you must have an idea. Oh well, I’ll give you a few moments to think, while I fill in the rest of the form. First of all, the names of the parents, well that part is easy. Father, Alan Chandler, occupation, soldier. Mother, Kerry Chandler, occupation, housewife.”
Kerry went on to fill in the rest of the certificate. Finishing, she set down her pen and looked at Alan, Molly and the un-named baby.
“So, what do you think? What shall we call her? Chrissie? Summer? Lucy?”
Kerry rattled off a few more names, but it was Alan who explained it in the end. He said the new baby had to be called Molly as well, otherwise what would happen when Kerry went out and people saw her. She couldn’t very well introduce another baby, could she? No, they should be called Molly #1 and Molly #2.
“Oh, Alan,” Kerry rushed over to kiss him. “You’re so clever. Come on then Molly #2, let me show you around,” and she took the baby fro
m Alan and walked around the flat, showing Molly #2 her new home.
Crawling
Kerry was in the middle of a huge row with Alan. It didn’t happen very often, as she was very careful not to upset him in case he went away. But this time it was different. She couldn’t contain all the hurt, anger and loss anymore. He needed to know how she really felt.
It had all started when she’d seen Julie the previous day. Kerry had some grocery shopping to do, so she’d walked to the shops in North Camp. They’d stopped to chat, although Kerry was always wary of people looking too closely at Molly #2 in the pram, but she couldn’t get rid of Julie yesterday morning. The bloody woman just wouldn’t stop talking. She cooed about the babies, as one would expect, but she also insisted on talking about her husband.
Bob this, it was and Bob that, she went on. A bit bloody insensitive on Julie’s part, Kerry thought, as Julie still had her husband and Alan had been blown to bits. Anyway Julie hadn’t seemed very happy. Apparently Bob kept going out at all hours of the day and night. Trying to tell her it was work and he couldn’t help it. Work, my arse, was Julie’s opinion. It was rather frightening what he was actually up to, she’d confided. Although she wouldn’t come out and say what it was that he was doing. She’d just kept hinting that it wasn’t altogether legal. She’d also said that he didn’t take much notice of their child, Tyler. That seemed to be particularly upsetting to Julie, as Tyler was crawling now, if you please! Soon she’d be taking her first steps, well doesn’t time fly with babies, and Julie desperately wanted Bob to be involved with the girl and be as intoxicated by her as she was.
Julie had then twittered on about how nice it was to have someone to talk to. Someone to tell her troubles to. Someone who wasn’t bound by the Army way anymore. She’d not been able to tell anyone on the Garrison that she was having marital problems, she’d said, because Bob had already given her a lecture on that. The gossip would go round and round their circle of friends (and even get to the ears of those who weren’t in their circle) and find its way back to him. Then she’d be told off for talking about their problems, for letting others think their marriage wasn’t working. According to Julie, Bob had said that he was a bloody Sergeant for goodness sake and what did Julie think would happen if any gossip about him or his wife got around the lower ranks? He’d lose face, that’s what. Lose his standing in the eyes of his men. Lose their respect. They might not obey his orders or respect his judgement and then the whole thing would go to hell in a handbag. Heaven forbid that should happen, Julie had commented dryly. It was as though Bob thought the heavens would fall in around their heads and they would lose everything, just because of some idle chit chat.
A Soldier's Honour Box Set 2 (Sgt Major Crane crime thrillers Box Set) Page 31
