Nobody's Baby

by Penny Kline

‘Nothing’s happened to him,’ Wendy said gently. ‘We just want to find out where he is, then you’ll be able to see him.’

  Dominic stood up. ‘Is the toilet upstairs?’

  ‘First door you come to,’ Izzy told him. ‘I’m sorry.’ She turned to Wendy. ‘This is awful for you, and for Dominic, but at least there’s a chance now we may be able to find them. There isn’t a railway across the moor, is there?’

  ‘No, no I’m sure there isn’t. So you think they’re together. Yes, I knew that was what you were thinking.’ Wendy had started to cry. ‘At one time Miles mentioned something about needing space. People say that, don’t they, as an excuse, but since he didn’t come back I suppose I’ve been hoping if he had a little time on his own he might …’

  ‘I don’t know anything, Wendy, but it seems likely he’s with Dawn. Unless you can think of someone else who might have phoned your husband.’

  ‘Someone else?’ Wendy took a tissue from her handbag. ‘You mean another woman.’

  ‘No, I didn’t mean that.’

  ‘Life’s so unfair.’

  ‘Yes I know. Yes, it is.’

  ‘We had a daughter, me and Miles. If she’d lived she’d be three years old the week after next. She was born eleven weeks premature. She had breathing problems.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Izzy thought about Cressy, feeding well, putting on weight, giving Nigel her first smile. ‘It must take years to get over something like that.’

  ‘Oh, you never get over it.’ Wendy had dried her tears and was looking quite fierce. ‘I’m only telling you because I think it was the reason Miles left me. He wouldn’t talk about it, just bottled everything up. You’d think we could have comforted each other, wouldn’t you, but they say it’s hardly ever like that. Each person accuses the other of not caring enough.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that might happen.’ Izzy was torn between sympathy, and relief that Wendy trusted her enough to confide in her. Although, desperation often brings people closer.

  ‘Once I was playing with Dominic,’ Wendy continued, ‘and we were laughing, and later Miles said it meant I didn’t care if I’d been able to push Nadia’s death out of my head, but I was only thinking of poor Dominic and what a terrible time he’d been having.’

  Dominic was coming down the stairs. What must it have been like for him when his sister died? Especially if his parents were unable to talk to each other. Standing at the top, he must have overheard the last part of what Wendy had been saying, but Izzy expected him to pretend he had heard nothing and was shocked when she saw his face.

  ‘Dad thought it was his fault,’ he said angrily, ‘you caught ’flu off him. That’s why the baby was born too early.’

  ‘Oh, Dominic.’ Wendy rushed to him and gave him a hug. ‘I’m so sorry, so sorry.’ She turned to Izzy. ‘This is dreadful, I never meant to involve you. Is there anything I can do? I’d help you to look for them but how can I? Imagine if we found them.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ Izzy let them out through the front door. ‘I don’t know if what Dominic overheard is going to lead to anything but if it does you’ll be the first to know.’

  ‘Will Dad come back?’ Dominic’s voice was a whisper.

  ‘Yes.’ How could she promise such a thing, but the little boy looked so desperate. ‘I’m sure he will.’

  ‘I did hear one more thing.’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Wendy took hold of him in case he started walking away.

  ‘He said God something. Godforsaken. Is it the name of a place?’

  ‘No, it’s just something people say.’

  ‘Godforsaken place,’ Dominic whispered, ‘he said Godforsaken place. Back of …’

  ‘Yes.’ Wendy hugged and kissed him. ‘Clever boy, I knew more of the call would come back to you. “The back of …” Go on, Dom, go on.’

  ‘It didn’t make sense.’

  ‘Never mind.’

  ‘The back of beyond. He said the back of beyond. And something about a stag. No, a deer.’

  After they left, Izzy scribbled down notes, trying to remember Dominic’s exact words. The same side as the railway. A turning on the right. A Godforsaken place. The back of beyond.

  So they weren’t in the city. At least that much had been established. The stag, corrected by Dominic to ‘deer’, must be her name, Dawn Dear, although why would Miles have repeated something like that? It made no sense.

  Izzy found a map and drew a circle round the area Miles would cover if he had left Exmouth and driven for thirty minutes. Obviously the coastline reduced it but it was too large to be much use. No, Dominic had said “in the direction of the moor”. Still too vague, but better than searching indiscriminately. It must be near an old railway line, or perhaps the actual line had gone and people walked or cycled where the rails had once been.

  Dominic might have got it wrong, or even made things up to keep his mother happy, but it was the only lead she had. It was getting dark. No use going out now, but tomorrow she would make some excuse and spend the afternoon searching. In the meantime, she would think hard if the snatches of conversation Dominic had remembered triggered off anything Dawn had said, any places she had mentioned.

  Chapter Ten

  Harry was out of the office all day. Izzy worked flat out for most of the morning then told Kath her head was throbbing and she was going home.

  ‘Good idea.’ Kath gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Plenty of hot drinks and painkillers. Not like you to be so sensible.’

  ‘If Harry comes back, tell him I’ve got a temperature.’

  ‘OK.’ Kath looked at her curiously. ‘But I doubt if he will. Think you’ll be all right for tomorrow evening? If not I’d better let him know.’

  ‘Tomorrow evening?’ Then Izzy remembered the dinner party at Harry and Janet’s. ‘Actually that’s partly the reason I thought I’d go home early today.’

  Kath had her eyes fixed on her computer. ‘It’s all right, you don’t need to explain. Something’s happened, hasn’t it, something to do with Dawn. I do wish you’d tell me. I could help.’

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ Izzy promised, ‘not that there is much. Just a faint possibility that will almost certainly turn out to be a wild goose chase.’

  ‘You wouldn’t like me to come along? I’m quite interested in geese.’

  ‘Nothing I’d like better, Kath, but someone has to stay in the office.’

  ‘So there aren’t going to be any hot drinks and sitting in front of the telly.’

  Izzy smiled. ‘Later. This trip I have to make shouldn’t take long, then I’ll go straight home and concentrate on getting well for tomorrow. It’s not a bad cold, I can tell. How could it be after all that vitamin C you keep forcing down me?’

  ‘Izzy?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re not in any danger?’

  ‘No, of course not. Why would I be?’

  ‘I’ve no idea but you’re not normally so secretive.’

  ‘You’ve been fairly secretive yourself during these last few weeks.’ It was true. Not something Izzy had given much thought to, but Kath had not been her usual self. She was quieter, more controlled. ‘I’m sorry, Kath, I’ve been so self-absorbed I’ve forgotten to ask if something’s going on –’

  ‘Nothing’s going on, Iz. I only wish it was.’

  The sun came out briefly only to be covered by clouds a few minutes later. It was one of those days when you haven’t a clue what the weather’s going to do next and you’re not sure what to wear. Izzy could have done with a new winter coat but she was putting off buying one, just like she was putting off everything else, the dripping tap in her bathroom, the cracked tiles on her roof that needed replacing, the car service. When I find Dawn … When I know for certain that Cressy is her baby …

  It was all in the mind, it must be, but her mouth really did feel dry and she thought she had the beginnings of a sore throat. The chances of finding Dawn were minimal, so much so that she had given very little thought
to what she would do if she did find her. Or rather, what she would say. I was worried about you, Dawn. No, I’m not checking up on you, I just wanted to make sure you were all right. How did I trace you? That part would be tricky, best to play it by ear.

  As far as the search went, the first thing she planned to do was call in at village post offices and shops – if there were any left – and ask if anyone had seen someone answering Dawn’s description. The whole area – the one she had decided to investigate – was a maze of lanes, with small villages dotted about, some of them so small they could hardly be called villages, just a farm and four or five houses.

  At the first few shops she drew a blank. No one had seen a woman answering Dawn’s description and the people she asked insisted they would have noticed a newcomer to the district. Eventually, after several fruitless attempts – she almost missed the shop, it was so small – the woman behind the counter paused when she told her the description, deferring to another woman who was busy filling shelves. ‘Long fair hair? Pretty girl if she’d tidied herself up a bit.’

  ‘Came in once or twice to buy some things for her friend who’d just had a baby,’ the second woman said. ‘You know, the usual stuff, disposable nappies, and wet wipes.’

  ‘You don’t know where she’s living? When was this? A couple of weeks ago?’

  The woman shook her head. ‘I couldn’t say. To tell the truth, I thought she might be one of those travellers.’

  ‘But she was on her own? She didn’t have a baby with her?’

  ‘Could have been in the car,’ the first woman said.

  ‘Oh, she had a car. Did you see what colour it was?’

  ‘Didn’t see it, love, but she couldn’t have walked here, could she, not unless she was camping out and who’d do that in this weather. Might’ve been on a bike, I suppose.’

  It’s quite important,’ Izzy urged, ‘she could be unwell.’

  The women said nothing, but an old man, rooting about in a box of apples, muttered something about the cottage down the lane past the pigs.

  ‘Which lane would that be?’

  The old man picked up an apple and gave her a hostile stare. ‘From the benefits office, are you?’

  ‘No, no, nothing like that. I’m a friend. We lost touch but I think she may have rented a cottage in this area.’

  ‘That’s what they all say.’

  A woman, with two small children, had come into the shop and was staring at her. ‘And if you could tell me how to reach the lane with the pigs,’ Izzy said. ‘Just in case she’s there.’

  The woman behind the counter puffed out her cheeks as though Izzy had asked the way to John O’Groats. ‘Keep on half a mile or so till you reach the farm, then the first on the left. Not a farm exactly, more of a smallholding. Got a sign up, ‘eggs for sale’, you can’t miss it. After that, you keep going till you cross a bridge. That’s right isn’t it, Alf?’ She turned to the old man who gave a brief nod. ‘And you’ll see the pig farm soon after that.’

  Izzy followed the instructions carefully but with a mildly paranoid feeling that they might not be correct. Were all villagers suspicious of strangers? Surely not in this day and age when people had second homes and tourists stopped to buy postcards and ice cream, although this particular spot wasn’t really a tourist area. It had started to rain, heavy rain that made visibility difficult. She had forgotten to bring an umbrella. She was going to get soaked. No, there was one in the boot, an old one with two broken spokes, but it would have to do.

  Keep going for half a mile then first on the left after the farm. She almost missed the ‘Eggs for Sale’ notice, probably would have done except she had to slam on her brakes when a pheasant strolled across the road. First on the left. Carry on to the bridge, which she had reached almost at once. Cross over – and there it was.

  There was no sign of any pigs but she thought she might be able to smell them and, through a high hedge, she caught a glimpse of what could be their houses, cylindrical metal shelters spaced at intervals in the mud. The rain had stopped as quickly as it had started and, leaving the car on some rough grass, she continued and on foot, scanning the surrounding fields for a cottage. Was it even the right lane? Her ears ached and she really did feel she might have a temperature.

  A building came into view and turned out to be a dilapidated barn, but round the next corner she caught sight of a house less than a hundred yards on. Hardly picturesque, with its ugly tiled roof and pebbledash walls, but it still fell into the category of cottage, if only because of the straggling plant that covered most of the porch.

  There was no doorbell or knocker, but sounds were coming from round the back and after a minute or so a woman appeared, dragging a basket of logs. She was very old, with a lined face and straggly grey hair, and she was breathing hard as though the weight of the logs was too much for her. When she saw Izzy, she paused for a moment then let go of the basket and approached with a friendly smile. ‘Looking for something, dear?’

  ‘Yes, yes I am.’ There was just a chance the woman might have seen Dawn. ‘The lady in the local shop thought there might be someone living down this lane – someone with a baby.’

  ‘A baby?’ The woman looked as if Izzy had said a chimpanzee. ‘If there is, I’ve never seen it.’

  ‘Actually, she might be with a man. And the baby might not be there any more. I mean, she could have left the baby with – with her mother.’

  ‘Only one more cottage before the crossroads and that belongs to Mr and Mrs Piggott. Lived there all their lives, they have. No kiddies.’

  ‘Oh, yes I see, I think it must be the wrong lane. Sorry to bother you.’

  ‘You could ask Freda Piggott.’ The woman seemed reluctant to let Izzy go. ‘She knows about all the comings and goings round here. Trouble is, they’re staying with their daughter till the end of the week. Lives in somewhere called Crouch End. Do you know it?’

  ‘It’s in London,’ Izzy told her, ‘so you think they’ll be back by the weekend?’

  ‘That’s what they said.’ The woman’s nose had started to run. She wiped it with the sleeve of her coat then, sensing that Izzy was keen to get away, returned to the basket of logs. ‘What’s her name – your friend?’ she called.

  ‘Dawn. Dawn Dear – or if she’s using her married name it could be Bruton.’ Even as Izzy spoke she decided telling the woman Dawn’s name was a mistake. And adding a second name, Bruton, certainly was.

  ‘Dear’s a funny name.’ It was clear the woman had heard nothing that would be any use. ‘And you say you’re a friend.’

  Izzy nodded. ‘Anyway, thanks again and if I don’t have any luck I’ll call in on Mr and Mrs Piggott when they’re back from London.’ Would she? Izzy doubted it. In fact, she was beginning to think the whole venture was insane. For all she knew, Dawn was miles away.

  Back at the car, she saw it was splashed all over with the mud she had picked up driving through the lanes. It was a waste of time. Under pressure from his mother, Dominic could well have made up what he heard. She felt sorry for the boy, but also annoyed if he had sent her on a pointless search. But his description of the phone call was all she had and it was too soon to give up. Perhaps she should return to the shop where the women had been prepared to help, but perhaps not. It was unlikely they knew any more and, like the old man, would start to suspect she was from the benefits office or a social worker and, in their terms, up to no good.

  The sky was overcast but every so often it cleared, changing the passing fields from dark, gloomy places to bright sunlit invitations to a pleasant afternoon walk. As she drove, Izzy watched out for signposts and memorised names, trying to make a mental map of the area but with no expectation she would make any further progress. Quite soon, it would start raining again and she should have had the sense to wear a raincoat.

  She passed a pub and remembered how Josh liked them to drive into the country for a meal, and when they did he drank heavily but expected her to stick to orange juice so she
was fit to drive them back home. A mile farther on she noticed pigs in a field and wondered if it was worth walking down the adjoining lane, then realised she must be at least three miles from the village shop and it was unlikely she could have misunderstood the directions to that extent.

  Something was nagging away in her head but it was not until she reached the main road that it struck her how stupid she had been. The pub. The sign could have done with re-painting but something about it had registered in her brain and Dominic Bruton’s voice was clear in her head, a mixture of sadness and anger as he described the phone call he had overheard, his father talking to someone who could have been Dawn. ‘ The side of the railway.’

  It was only a chance, but she had to be certain. At the first right turning, she made a U-turn and began retracing her route until she turned a sharp corner and there it was. The Railway Inn.

  Should she go into the pub and make some inquiries? It looked closed but there might be someone about round the back. She might call in there later but just now it would be best to look for a cottage.

  When pressed, Dominic had said a little more. The first on the right. Coming from which direction? She drove on, slowing down at the first turning on the right but deciding it would be unwise to drive up in the car. The lane had grass growing in the centre and looked as if it was only used by the occasional tractor. Where did it lead to – there was no signpost – but neither was there any indication it was not a through road. There could be a cottage somewhere along the way, but it was a long shot. Dominic could have forgotten the next instructions – or failed to repeat them. First on the right, Dawn could have told Miles, then continue on up the hill until you come to a small wood …

  Pulling into a gateway, she sat for several minutes, trying to decide what to do next. On the opposite side of the road she could see a gate. If she climbed it, she would she have a slightly better view of the surrounding fields. Would Dawn have chosen such a remote place? Perhaps she had no choice. In any case, Izzy had long since given up thinking she could read Dawn’s mind. The Dawn she knew would never have rented a house in the country. But did she really know Dawn at all?