by Agatha Frost
Only one thing mattered.
A crowd had gathered outside the small café. Like the morning of Lynn’s death, he couldn’t see Julia, but this time, he could hear her. He pushed through the onlookers and burst inside.
Only one thing mattered.
And there she was.
Pacing back and forth as the café workers watched on, red and sweating despite the cold. Hands pressed to her lower back, lips pursed. So focused on her erratic breath, she didn’t even notice him until he had his arms around her.
“Oh, Barker,” she moaned, clutching her bump as he led her through the observers and to his car. “Debra didn’t poison Lynn. It was Mavis. She just confessed to everything. She’s been using Jade. We need to stop her.”
“What we need to do is get you to a hospital.”
“Contractions aren’t close enough together yet,” she said as she led down on the backseat. “They’ll only send us home. Mavis, she—”
“Forget about Mavis,” Barker insisted, brushing her damp hair from her face. “I’ll call John. He can deal with it. We have something more important to focus on right now.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I love you, Julia. We’re going to get through this.”
Against his instincts, Barker drove Julia to the cottage. Somewhere in the mangled mess of books, classes, and lists he’d consumed, he knew rushing to the hospital so soon wasn’t necessary, no matter how much it terrified him to witness the fleeting pain of a contraction through the rear-view mirror.
Once settled at home, with a midwife looking after Julia in the bedroom, Barker shut himself in the dining room. He started relaying the information he’d gleaned, but John cut him off.
“You’re about ten minutes too late, Brown,” he called over the loudspeaker. “On my way to the estate with every officer I could call in. Jade Tan, of all people, just turned up at the station, screaming about being locked up at the estate for days. We could barely make heads or tails at first. I thought she was pulling our leg until she mentioned Julia was the one to free her. What was she even doing there?”
“Being nice,” he said, looking over the useless notes still stuck to the wall. “Mavis played a good game.”
“She wasn’t even on our radar. Saying that, I was beginning to wonder if we’d assumed too much in thinking Debra poisoned Lynn. Stacey dropped off what was obviously supposed to be Debra’s suicide note. Full confession of killing Terry, but nothing on poisoning Lynn aside from one brief mention about the blackmail. If I thought I wasn’t going to be around to face the consequences, I’d confess to every little thing I’d ever done.”
“Find her, John.”
“Don’t you worry,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “At her age, how far could she get? And with a bump on the head at that.”
Leaving John to get on with his job, Barker cleared the notes from the wall. He’d spent all night going around in circles with the case file, flip-flopping between the two remaining suspects. Of the two, Jade had been the more natural fit, but with no way of tracking her down, he hadn’t been about to hare off on another half-baked wild goose chase.
“Julia is in early labour,” the midwife confirmed as she made her way to the door. “Dilation has just started, but her contractions are still very irregular. When you sense they’re becoming more frequent, you’ll want to start timing them until they’re consistently at least five minutes apart.”
“How long will that take?”
“Most first-time mothers get there between the six- and twelve-hour mark,” she said as she opened the door. “Though I’ve seen it last for days.”
“Days?”
“Try not to panic, Mr Brown,” she said with a soft smile. “I know you’ll want to whisk her into hospital every time you see her in pain, but home is the best place for Julia right now. She’s comfortable and can relax. You’ll know when it’s time.”
The midwife left, and over the next handful of hours, Barker fell back on everything they’d learned in their antenatal classes. He ran a warm bath surrounded by candles and music and rubbed Julia’s back in soothing circles. He helped her walk around the cottage when she felt fidgety and fluffed her pillows when she needed to rest. He steadied her while she bounced up and down on the yoga ball they’d bought for this very purpose. When the contractions came on, he let her squeeze his hand as tightly as she wanted and breathed with her the way Stacey had taught them.
By late afternoon, more flowers than they had vases for had arrived from people all over the village, and Barker had answered the phone to well-wishes from residents whose names he’d never even heard.
“Not to worry!” Dot announced when she barged in as the sun began to set. “Gran’s here now.”
To Barker’s surprise, Julia asked her to stick around, and though he was trying his best, he didn’t blame her for wanting someone who had been through the experience by her side.
“Came as soon as I could get off shift,” Sue said, rushing in after the sun had finished setting. “You look shattered, Barker.”
Leaving Julia in the capable hands of her gran and sister, Barker showered, changed, and checked over the birthing bag one last time before setting it by the door.
Content that Julia was in good hands, he lit a fire and settled into the armchair. He closed his eyes to rest them and stirred an hour later to the unmistakable scent of fish and chips and a sitting room full of people.
“If you’re tired now,” Sue said, throwing a soggy chip into her mouth, “just wait until the baby actually comes.”
Jessie, who had arrived along with Katie while he slept, unwrapped a portion of salt-and-vinegar-soaked fish and chips and dumped it in his lap.
“Mum’s having a nap,” she said before turning on the telly. “Contractions seem to have stopped.”
“Mark my words,” said Dot after biting into a jumbo sausage, “this will drag out for days.”
Barker had barely finished devouring his mountain of chips when Julia’s moans drew him back into the darkened bedroom. The contractions continued to come, her hand-clutching growing tighter with each. Sue timed them on her phone while Dot dabbed at Julia’s head with a cold flannel. Katie rubbed her feet, and Jessie paced at the bottom of the bed with her nails between her teeth.
“The midwife said I should stay here as long as I feel comfortable,” Julia said after a particularly prolonged contraction. “I don’t feel comfortable.”
“Nearly five minutes apart,” Sue said. “I think it’s time.”
Chaos accompanied the rush to get Julia ready to go. Before Barker knew it, he was helping his wife walk down the garden path with the birthing bag slung over his shoulder.
“Next time you come back here,” Sue said, sitting next to Julia in the back, “that bun will finally be out of the oven.”
Julia and Barker locked eyes in the rear-view mirror as he pulled away from the cottage. They shared the same nervous smile before another contraction twisted her face.
He drove with such hyper-focus he was barely aware he’d driven at all until he found himself reversing into a parking spot as close to the hospital’s entrance as he could get. While Sue helped Julia out of the car, Barker ran to the lobby and grabbed a wheelchair. With Sue, Dot, Jessie, and Katie trailing behind, he rushed Julia through the hospital to the maternity ward.
“I’m scared,” Julia whispered to Barker once they were set up in a private room. “What have we got ourselves into?”
“I have no idea,” he said, clasping her hand tighter, “but I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Doctors and nurses came and went, carrying out test after test, Barker’s ears deaf to their medical jargon as the contractions continued with increased speed.
And then, it was time.
“I think I need to push,” said Julia.
The energy in the room shifted in the blink of an eye as their waiting game came to its dizzying conclusion. Instructions were barked left and right as Barker and Sue trie
d to keep Julia focused on her breathing. Jessie, Katie, and Dot watched from the hallway.
Breathing soon gave way to groaning.
And groaning to screaming.
Like a conductor, Julia compelled everyone in the room to match her volume until the swelling wall of sound consumed everything. Her animal cries rose to a deafening crescendo, urged on by commands to push and declarations of love.
“You’re almost there!” the midwife exclaimed. “One last push!”
And louder still, she screamed and pushed, red-faced, sweat-soaked, eyes filled with more determination than ever before.
Barker had never loved her more.
Then it all stopped.
Buzzing seconds dragged out like hours.
And a new sound filled the room.
A gurgling cry from a new player in the orchestra; someone new entirely. As though from nowhere, hands placed a wriggling baby with dark hair and scrunched-up eyes on Julia’s chest, and all Barker could do was cry.
“It’s a girl,” the midwife said. “Congratulations.”
17
JULIA
A s the early light of the first morning of December bled through the closed blinds of the quiet hospital room, Julia observed her baby daughter sleeping in her arms. Her lids twitched, eyes dancing beneath them. Shiny lips puckered, the shape so like Barker’s. Was she dreaming about the new world she’d entered, or perhaps the one she’d just left?
Though many had tried, nobody could have readied Julia for the reality of childbirth – a pain like no other, extreme highs she’d never imagined, and crashes deeper than she’d previously thought possible. The experience defied explanation, but the biggest surprise was the one thing she hadn’t been able to think about in the chaos of the delivery room.
The first sight of her newborn daughter.
In her delirium, “It’s like someone has opened a window,” was all she could muster when Barker asked how she felt in their first moments together.
Now, in the quiet, surrounded by teddies, balloons, cards, and flowers, with Jessie asleep in the corner chair and Barker hunting for his first coffee of the day, she understood what she’d meant. A window had opened, and through it, something had entered; words to do the feeling justice simply didn’t exist.
Love, certainly . . . but it was more than that.
Even after a night of broken sleep thanks to startling cries and tender feeds coupled with worries about doing every little thing wrong, the feeling had only grown. No matter the struggles to come, the sleepless nights, and everything in between, her love would endure.
A lioness fully awakened.
Like her sister, Jessie twitched in her sleep. That window was nudged open some years ago. The dreaming little one in her arms might be Julia’s first baby, but she was her second child, a fact neither head nor heart could counter.
Meeting her baby had only made her love for Jessie grow. The urge to cling tighter and protect more ferociously was almost dizzying, and yet she was surer than ever of the words she had to say to Jessie. She would have spoken them already if the fire at Trotter’s Books hadn’t derailed her, though she was glad to have kept them for a little while longer.
Somehow, she now understood them even better.
“Just spoke to John,” Barker whispered as he slipped into the room with a tray of hot drinks. “He’s just been reading Debra her rights. She came around during the night, but she’s still in and out.”
“And Mavis?”
“Caught about two hours ago.” He set down the cups and kissed first the baby then Julia on the forehead. “Lord knows where she was hiding all night, but someone found her this morning, banging on the doors of the lift. The thing broke down with her in it.”
“The one time the quality of Fern Moore’s lift is actually useful.”
“Right?” Barker laughed. “No idea where she thought she was going. She had bags full of clothes and that cleaning caddy jam-packed with Lynn’s blackmail cash. They’re estimating it’s at least ten thousand. I can’t believe we just handed it over to her. Thinking about it now, it’s a weird memento.”
“We saw what she wanted us to see.”
Holding her newborn might have overridden the trauma that had preceded her birth, but Julia experiencing her first contraction in the sitting room of a murderer who then cornered her with a knife would always be part of both of their stories. She was glad Mavis would get what she deserved.
“I know how much you’ve been missing this,” he said as he passed her a cup, “so I packed a couple of tea bags in the birthing bag as a surprise.”
There was no mistaking the sweet scent of her favourite peppermint and liquorice tea. She took a sip, eyes closing as a long-ignored itch was finally scratched.
“One of those for me?” Jessie muttered as she stretched. “Had the weirdest dream that you were pregnant and had a baby.”
“Very much reality,” Julia said.
“Not you.” She nodded at Barker as she grabbed a cup. “Him.”
“Oh, charming.”
“It had this massive head.” She slurped the coffee. “Like an alien, but I think it had your face. And a tail. It’s already going.”
Jessie leaned over the baby, giving her red cheek a little rub with her fingertip before she perched on the edge of the bed.
“Get anywhere with a name yet?” Jessie asked behind a yawn.
Julia and Barker glanced at each other and nodded at the same time.
“We wanted to ask you if it was okay first,” Julia said as she slowly passed the baby to Jessie, “but we’ve been considering Olivia, after your mother.”
Jessie’s eyes fixed on the baby and her mouth opened without a sound.
“Only if you’re okay with it,” Julia added quickly, nervous about Jessie’s silence. “I know we never met her, and that she died when you were very young, but we thought it was a nice way of honouring her.”
“And we really like the name,” Barker said, sitting on Julia’s other side. “Suits her, don’t you think?”
Jessie tilted her head as she gazed down at the baby, her thumb brushing the sparse but soft dark hair.
“Olivia South-Brown,” Jessie said finally, a smile pricking up her lips. “It’s perfect.”
“Then it’s decided.” Julia loosened a relieved breath as Jessie passed the bundle back. “Welcome to the family, Olivia. Barker, will you give us girls some time alone?”
Barker, already aware of what Julia wanted to say to Jessie, excused himself with no fuss. Jessie arched a brow and looked away, plucking at a loose thread in the bedsheet.
“Before I say anything else, I want you to know I love you,” Julia said as she slowly lowered Olivia into the cot next to the bed. “Very much.”
“What have I done?”
“Nothing.” Julia smiled and rested a hand on Jessie’s. “Though this is something I should have done – or said – as soon as the conversation came up. It’s about going travelling with Alfie. I—”
“I told you,” Jessie interrupted in a small voice. “I made my decision.”
“I know,” she said softly. “And if staying here is truly what you want, I’ll support you. But I also need you to understand that if a part of you wants to go, a part that you’re trying to push down and ignore and reason with, you must pay attention to it. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
Jessie nodded, fingers plucking harder at the thread.
“It’s okay to put yourself first.” Julia ducked to meet Jessie’s eyes. “If you want to go, it’s okay. I know you’d regret passing up an opportunity like this.”
“But I’ll miss so much,” she croaked.
“And you’ll see so much.” Julia tucked Jessie’s hair behind her ear and lifted her face with a finger under the chin. “A year might feel like a long time, and it is, but trust me when I say they go by faster the older you get. None of us knows what’s around the corner, but you’re far too young to see only the café and
the village ahead of you. That’s what I see in my future because that’s my dream, but I lived other lives to learn it. Do you know what your dream is? What you want to do with your life?”
Jessie shook her head.
“Then I’m not just saying it’s okay to go.” Julia paused and composed herself, not wanting to cry. “I think you should go.”
“But the café—”
“Will be fine,” she assured her. “I spoke to Katie last night, and she’s already agreed to oversee things for the time being. You’ve trained her well. And I won’t be off forever, will I? I’m not sure I could stand the daytime telly forever. I told my gran they were my friends the other day.”
Jessie laughed, and the tears that had lined her lashes sprang free.
“We’ve been in each other’s lives a long time,” Julia said, wiping Jessie’s tears away. “I knew there was something wrong when you were figuring this out on your own, and you knew I’d struggle to let you go . . . but that’s no reason to stay.”
“But I’ll miss you.”
“And I’ll miss you too,” Julia said. “So very much. But if you want it, all this will be here when you get back. Go see the world with your brother and come back with a head full of stories, Jessie.”
Jessie flopped on Julia, wrapping her arms around her neck, and there she stayed. Julia didn’t need to ask if Jessie had changed her mind. The silence said it all. Just as Dot had said, Jessie wanted to go, but she’d needed a little nudge out of the nest.
And now she could soar.
18
BARKER
A fter wrapping up the Terry Trotter and Lynn Sweet cases, which were entirely separate after all, Barker took the rest of December off to be home with Julia and Olivia. He kept up with developments regarding Debra, Jade, and Mavis’s convictions in the paper, but he was more than happy to step back and let the police deal with the fallout; he didn’t miss that part of the job one bit.
By Christmas Day – and their first wedding anniversary – he was beyond glad he’d decided to forgo work in favour of settling into the new routines with a baby in the house.
