Broken (36 page)

‘Mrs Hampton, I'm really sorry.' Mary leant forward to encourage Mattie to keep her voice down. ‘I can see you're upset but the bank hasn't done anything wrong. A joint term deposit
can
be accessed by either party. That's standard practice. And it's also standard practice to allow early closure if a client wishes. All that means is that they forgo some of the interest payable. And I can't give you information relating to another person's account. I just can't.'

‘I don't bloody well believe this.'

‘Would you like to speak to the manager?'

A large elderly man with a cane knocked Mattie as he passed by on his way to a nearby teller. He continued on without apologising and Mattie glared at his back. Then, as she watched him settle himself awkwardly at the teller's window, her anger dissipated as quickly as it had surfaced, to be replaced by the sick certainty of defeat. She turned back to Mary. ‘Would it do any good?'

‘Not really. No.'

‘Then what's the point?'

‘I really am very sorry, Mrs Hampton.' Mary slid the driver's licence back across the counter. ‘Perhaps you could discuss it with your husband?'

‘Yeah, sure.' Mattie didn't even bother to laugh. It wasn't funny.

‘Um, is there anything else I can help you with?'

‘No,' said Mattie dully. ‘Nothing else.'

She left the row of teller windows the wrong way, and had to manoeuvre herself along the queue of waiting clients with some difficulty. Then she left the bank and walked towards her car, unlocking the door and climbing in automatically. She sat in the car park for a while, staring at the rows of parked cars. He had taken her children temporarily to flex his muscles, and he had taken their money to show her his strength. Every step of the way he had been ahead of her, way ahead of her. While she was still organising her responses, he was busily putting the next move into play Attack is the best form of defence. But what else could he do now? Surely there was nothing left?

But there was. As she found when the school bell rang at three-thirty and the children began pouring out from their classes. Mattie was standing outside Courtney's classroom, trying to sound natural as she chatted with Jo and Helen, when the prep classroom door opened and the mothers started to file in to collect their children. It only took a moment for Mattie to see that Courtney was not sitting with the other children and, even though she looked again, and then glanced around the classroom quickly, she already knew where she was.

‘Mrs Hampton?' Miss Thomson looked her with surprise. ‘I thought – that is, didn't you know Courtney's gone? Her father collected her about an hour ago.'

Mattie was aware of the other mothers turning to stare at her with avid curiosity. She forced herself to smile. ‘Of course! I totally forgot. God, I'm forgetting everything at the moment, aren't I?' She turned to smile at Marie and shake her head at her own stupidity. ‘Here I am with the whole afternoon off and I come down here! It must be automatic.'

‘Wish someone'd give
me
the afternoon off!' laughed Marie, her small son poking her in the thigh and whining about being hungry.

Mattie smiled at them all, and then made her escape. Although she felt like running, she made herself slow down as she walked through the school, past the excited children and swerving bicycles and clusters of mothers and the occasional father. She already knew it was useless checking the playground for Max, but nevertheless she went straight there, scanning the play equipment and benches for any sign of her son. Without reward.

For a brief few minutes, as Mattie was rocked by the realisation that her children were gone, she felt numbed by her anguish. And as she continued to stare at the playground, it seemed like everything else sped up around her. Children clambering, and running, and screaming. Mothers talking, and hustling, and rushing. Everything in fast motion except her. And she was reminded, strangely, of a commercial she'd once seen, in which a man stood in a city street while, around him, life sped by in a blur. Peak hour in double-quick time while he froze, staring straight ahead, isolated by his immobility.

Mattie blinked, and the world slowed down again, back to a
manageable speed that could include her. Before she could attract any attention, she made straight for her car. Her mind was churning with impotent anger and an underlying fear:
I promised him I'd pick him up. I
promised
him. Bastard. Bastard. Bastard
. She drove around to the swimming centre, thinking all the way about how she could avoid a confrontation but still reclaim her children. No answers had occurred to her by the time she parked the car but nevertheless she strode into the centre without hesitation, deliberately not allowing herself to become more nervous. Once through the glass doors, the centre was hot and humid, and filled with echoing high-pitched voices and the sound of splashing. Mattie walked down the ramp and rounded the corner to where she usually sat with Ginny and Rachel each week. Rachel was already there, getting young Katie ready for her lesson, but Ginny was obviously yet to arrive. Mattie sat down next to them, feeling out of breath.

‘Are you okay?' asked Rachel, looking at her with concern.

Mattie nodded and forced herself to smile. Surreptitiously she took a deep breath and stilled her hands, folding them neatly on her lap.

‘Where's Courtney?' asked Katie, escaping from her mother, who was now folding her daughter's school clothes.

‘She's coming with her dad.' Mattie glanced across at Rachel and managed a laugh. ‘That is, if he remembers.'

‘Men!' said Rachel dismissively, diving under her chair to pull out her bag. ‘Here, Mattie, I've got your money And where were you last week?'

‘I wasn't feeling well,' replied Mattie blithely, fidgeting again while she stared towards the swimming pool entrance. ‘So we had the day off.'

‘Lucky you.'

‘Can I go in, Mummy?' Katie ran to the edge of the pool where the water lapped up and over the concreted edge, draining into a narrow grating that ran all the way around the huge pool.

‘Okay, but stay near the side.'

‘Hi, guys.' Ginny appeared from the direction of the change-rooms, with both her sons already in their bathers. While the boys jumped straight into the pool with whoops of joy, she put a large bag containing
their school gear down by a chair on the other side of Mattie and sank down with a sigh. ‘I'm stuffed.'

‘You and me both,' said Rachel, watching Katie carefully.

‘What happened to you last week, Mattie?'

‘She wasn't well,' said Rachel.

‘Was it that bug that's going around?' asked Ginny with interest.

‘Don't know,' said Mattie, trying to keep her hands still. ‘It only lasted a day.'

‘Probably the bug,' decided Ginny with a nod. ‘Jack had that two weeks ago, and then David had it the very next day. Thought I'd get it too, but I was lucky.'

Mattie didn't say anything.

‘Now – money.' Ginny pulled an envelope out of her pocket and passed it over. ‘There you go. Had a lovely time. And I'm looking forward to getting my stuff.'

Mattie slipped the envelope into her jeans pocket with Rachel's money, still watching the entrance. There was a continual stream of parents and children, but no Max or Courtney. After a few minutes the young swimming instructor, a plump, broad-shouldered girl with cropped red hair, came from the office with her clipboard. She sat down on the edge of the pool with her legs in the water and started calling out names. ‘David? Yep. Jack? Yep. Katie? Yep. Max? Courtney?'

‘Not here yet,' called Mattie quickly. ‘In fact I'm beginning to suspect their father's forgotten to bring them.'

‘And they missed last week too,' commented the swimming instructor, glancing down at her clipboard.

‘Mattie was sick,' offered Rachel.

‘I'll go outside and give him a call on his mobile.' Mattie stood up and smoothed her jeans down. ‘But if he's forgotten, they probably won't get here in time now'

‘Well, see me next week and I'll arrange some make-up lessons.' The swimming teacher smiled dismissively and turned back to the children, clapping her hands much like Miss Thomson.

‘Okay then, I'll see you two next week.' Mattie waved at Ginny and Rachel cheerfully. ‘And I'll bring your things from the party.'

‘Excellent! See you then!'

‘Lucky you, escaping from this damn sauna! Bye now!'

Mattie strode down the outside of the swimming pool, in between the classes now in progress and the plastic chairs full of watching parents. What with the heat and the noise, she felt incredibly nauseous. She went up the ramp quickly and pushed open the glass doors, taking in a huge lungful of cold, fresh air as she did so. But it didn't seem to make much difference.

By the time she got to the car, Mattie really thought she was going to vomit. She stood by the car and bent over as she felt bile surge towards her throat. She gagged several times, but nothing else happened so after a few minutes she straightened and opened the car door to slide in, out of sight. Then she took a series of measured breaths – one, two, three, four, five – and turned over the ignition, put the car into gear and drove around to Jake's house before she could change her mind. But from the moment she turned into the court, she could tell that this was also a dead end. There was no car in the driveway, the curtains were drawn and mail stuck out from the letterbox. Nobody had been home since this morning.

Mattie turned at the bottom of the court and drove down to the shops, where she went straight to the local McDonald's and cruised slowly through the car-park. Children screamed joyfully as they clambered over the play equipment and a line of cars backed up behind the drive-thru window. But Jake's car wasn't there. By now, for Mattie, nausea and concern were vying with the return of her anger. How
could
he do this to her? She would never,
never
have done this to him.

Mattie gunned the car out of the McDonald's parking lot and drove around to the police station. There she parked the car and sat staring through the windscreen at the huge mesh fence that divided the police station from the back of the railway station. A train came through, rattling noisily over the tracks as it decelerated into the station. Mattie watched a tardy passenger run past the fence but while he was still in sight the train could be heard moving off, and then tooting loudly as it approached the far intersection. With the clatter of the train receding into the distance, Mattie took a deep breath and got out of her car,
locking it and then marching towards the police station. She couldn't believe she was doing this and was numbed by a very real fear that she might even be making things worse. But she also knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she couldn't let Jake get away with this. She had to meet strength with strength.

The front door was an automatic sliding one which slithered back with a metallic hum as she approached. There was a small foyer with closed glass doors to the right and left and, straight ahead, a passage into the main room. Mattie walked in and was rather surprised to find herself alone. No people waiting, and no people serving either. A row of chairs stood against one long wall, with posters and flyers tacked to the noticeboard behind. Opposite was the counter, a shiny black affair that ran the length of the room, with mirrors all the way along the wall behind it. Mattie guessed they were two-way mirrors, from the telltale stripes, so she stood at the counter and waited impatiently to be seen. She put a hand up on the counter but, when she saw the way it trembled, she dropped it again and clasped it within the other for protection.

Within a minute or so, a policeman came through a door at the far end of the wall and approached her with a smile. He was young, blonde and very good-looking, with a clean-shaven face but for a meticulous tuft of beard in the cleft of his chin.

‘Can I help you?'

‘I hope so.' Mattie kept her voice controlled and unemotional. ‘My husband – my
ex
-husband has kidnapped our children.'

‘I see.' The young policeman frowned sympathetically. ‘Well, that's no good. Can you give me some details?'

‘He has the children from Thursday till Sunday, and I have them the rest of the time. Now he didn't bring them home yesterday, and when I rang he'd already put them to bed, so I left it. But today when I went to get them from school, he'd already collected them. Early.'

‘And you have parenting papers written up? For this arrangement?'

‘No, we don't.' Mattie's heart sank as she watched his expression. ‘But it's
still
an agreement. And he's
still
broken it.'

‘Yes, that's right,' the young policeman said patiently, ‘but without
legal papers, there's nothing we can enforce. They are his children, just as they are yours, and you both have a legal right to them. So it's not kidnapping, see.'