Chosen Child (10 page)

She reached out and took the package, pretending to examine
it closely, her brain racing. ‘Oh no. It’s his. His mum made it for him. Oh
no.’ Her voice was shaking, good.

‘Don’t panic.’ Sergeant Jacob’s voice was kind. ‘By itself,
this may not mean much. Monday was a mild day, it could be that he took it off
and then dropped it. But in view of this we’re going to extend the search.’

‘What does that mean?’ Her voice was afraid, entirely
appropriate. He didn’t know she was terrified of being sent to prison for
pushing her husband to his accidental death. And how scary it was that she
didn’t even have to act now.

‘We’ll search the coastline, use boats where possible,
co-ordinate with the coastguards. And we’ll increase our efforts to find where
he might have slept on Monday night.’ He stood up. ‘Remember there’s still no
evidence he’s come to any harm. Let’s wait and see what happens. Someone will
come by tomorrow. Is there anybody you could contact to be with you?’

‘My mother-in-law’s coming down from Glasgow.’

The officers let themselves out, and Amanda grabbed Jaden
and sobbed into his neck. She was allowed to be distraught now, and soon she’d
be able to grieve, and thank God for that, because grieving was way too mild a
word for the emotion she felt. And now she’d better phone Susie before
destroying her mobile.

Susie sounded calm, but Amanda knew she’d be anything but.
Gareth’s mother was never one to wear her heart on her sleeve.

‘I’ll come down as soon as I can,’ she said. ‘If I can’t get
a flight to Newquay I’ll fly to London and get the train out west.’

‘Thanks, Suze,’ Amanda managed, realising she didn’t sound
at all grateful – but then under the circumstances she didn’t need to. She
ended the call and stared at her phone. Time to wreak some destruction, and one
thing she’d learned from Monday was that a dress rehearsal made an explanation
sound a lot more convincing.

‘Jaden, come to Mummy, sweetheart.’ She swept him up and
carried him upstairs to the bathroom. ‘Drop Mummy’s phone in the loo, sweetie.’

Jaden didn’t need to be told twice. Amanda’s mobile plopped
into the blue water and sank.

Going into town for a new phone felt reassuringly normal. The
man in the shop was sympathetic when she told him what had happened, and told
her about his sister who’d dropped hers the previous Sunday while she was
leaning over a bridge at the Eden Project. On the way home Amanda went into a
supermarket she didn’t normally use to stock up for Susie’s visit. It was
better to avoid her local store where she’d meet half the neighbourhood and
have to tell them about Gareth’s disappearance. Buying food reminded Amanda she
hadn’t eaten anything proper for days, and she rubbed her middle uneasily. That
wouldn’t be good for the baby. She should be more careful.

Back home, she spent the rest of the afternoon getting to
know her new phone and texting people with the number. Doing this reminded her
of the laptop, and when Jaden was in bed she sat down with it and opened both
her own and Gareth’s email accounts. Thank goodness she knew his password. A
check through their inboxes and various folders revealed nothing incriminating
and Amanda sat back, exhausted. She lifted the glossy mag she’d splashed out on
the week before, but there was no way she could read inconsequential gossip.
Gareth was dead and she was alive… Amanda closed her eyes, fighting to keep
control. When she looked down again, she had torn the front of the magazine
into shreds. Take the guilt to bed, Amanda.

Tomorrow would be busy. She would have to contact people and
tell them Gareth was missing, not least of all her own parents in Barcelona.
She should have done that before now. It was so difficult to know what the
normal reaction to mislaying your husband might be, but she could make her
father’s heart condition the excuse for not worrying them sooner. And Susie
would arrive, hoping her boy would be found safe. For a long time Amanda lay
awake, thinking of the child she had been and the adult she had become. When
was all this going to end?

The following morning Amanda stood buttoning a fresh cover on
the duvet in her own room, hoping Susie would accept the story that Jaden was
sleeping badly and needed his mother’s company at night. Suze would arrive that
afternoon, and there would be no peace until she went back home again. It would
be acting all the time. Amanda heard a car draw up outside – oh hell, the
acting wasn’t only for Suze. Sergeant Jacob and the same WPC walked up the
path, and to Amanda’s dismay the sergeant’s face was rigid. There was little
sign of the comforting presence today.

Heart thumping, Amanda showed them into the living room,
where Jaden was playing with his bricks.

‘Mrs Baxter, I have some news for you and I’m afraid it’s
not very good,’ said the sergeant, sinking heavily into the sofa.

Amanda was relieved to hear nothing but kindness in his
voice. Whatever had happened, they didn’t suspect her. She stared, feeling that
no response was best.

‘We’ve found a rucksack washed up further round the coast
from Lamorna, and in one of the inside pockets there’s a discount card for a
sports shop in Newquay, in your husband’s name. No other contents. The flap was
open.’

He paused, and Amanda gaped at him. She’d had no idea about
the card but thank goodness it had been there – it had identified the rucksack
as Gareth’s.

The sergeant continued. ‘We’ve also heard from a hiker who
saw a man answering to your husband’s description on the coastal path between
Lamorna and Mousehole. He wasn’t wearing his hat and the witness said he looked
a bit hot and bothered, but he’s pretty sure it was the man on the photo.’

Amanda breathed out. It was going to work. Thank God James
and Gareth were – had been – so similar in appearance.
You
should never have started this
, a voice whispered in her head, and it
was true – but they had started, and for Jaden’s sake she had to carry on with
the subterfuge. She forced her attention back to Sergeant Jacobs.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Baxter, but this could mean that he fell
into the sea at some point. That section of the walk is challenging. But I’m
afraid there’s more. A different witness has come forward with a sighting in a
gent’s toilet at Mousehole.’

He leaned forward. ‘This means we have two scenarios to
investigate. One is that your husband fell into the sea between Lamorna and
Mousehole.’

Amanda’s hands were shaking. They were buying Gareth’s
drowning; James had been right. She swallowed, feeling her heart beating
uncomfortably; she could hear the
lub-dub lub-dub
in
her ears. She clasped her hands together hard. What the hell was the second
scenario?

Sergeant Jacobs face was grim. ‘Falling into the sea doesn’t
fit in with the second sighting at Mousehole, however, because the next stretch
of path is relatively easy and it’s unlikely he would fall there. But there’s
another possibility – your husband could have vanished voluntarily. Maybe he
wanted to disappear.’

Shock jerked through Amanda and she sat straight. The
thought had never entered her head. Who was he to say that Gareth would leave
her like that?

‘No. That can’t be. He would never have – he would never do
that.’

‘Has he been worried about anything recently?’

‘He’s had a very stressful time at work but he’s finished
that job and he’s due to start a new one in June.’ She could hear the
indignation in her voice. In other circumstances this would have been
laughable.

‘I’m sorry but I have to ask – is your relationship all
right?’

Her teeth began to chatter and her fingers fluttered against
cold lips. This was a line of enquiry that neither she nor James had
anticipated. ‘We’re fine. I found out last week that I’m pregnant, that’s how
fine we are!’

Amanda leaned forward, head almost touching her knees, and
began to sob completely genuine tears.

Monday 26th – Tuesday 27th May

The first adoption meeting of the week was sobering –
Soraya’s school teacher was present to give her account of the girl’s school
life. According to Ms Landon, Soraya was alternately dreamy and disruptive in
class, which meant she was behind in every area of her education.

‘She has problems concentrating in a classroom environment,’
said the teacher. ‘She’s a lovely kiddie when you get her in the right mood,
but there are nineteen other children in the class. Even with an assistant I
can’t give her as much individual attention as she needs.’

Ella thought of the child who had sat on her knee listening
to stories. ‘She works well when she does have individual attention though?’

‘Yes – she’s obviously intelligent, but she needs something
we can’t give her enough of. I feel an assessment by a medical expert might be
a good next step. She may need medication of some kind. It’s something for you
to keep in mind.’

Privately, Ella thought that medication was a long way down
the line. There didn’t seem much point medicating a child with concentration
problems which weren’t in evidence when she had the right kind of attention.
Soraya
could
concentrate; what she needed was help to
do this in the noisier environment of a classroom.

The following evening’s meeting was to discuss the timing of
the next few weeks.

‘She loves going to Ella and Rick’s,’ said Mel to the
assembled group of social workers and adoption society workers. ‘I don’t see
any reason why she shouldn’t move in quite quickly. Maybe a weekend visit
first, and then we can look at the permanent move happening at the end of the
week after?’

Ella couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. Her
dream was coming true, at last, at last. ‘Sounds great. What would I do about
school?’

‘You can enroll her at your local school as soon as we have
a date for the permanent move. I’d keep her at home for a day or two, then send
her for the last few weeks of term,’ said Liz. ‘She’ll get to know the other
kids and also have an idea what to expect after the holidays.’

Ella nodded. She smiled up at Rick, who was pulling at his
collar as if he was too hot. He hadn’t said much at either meeting, but Ella
hadn’t dared ask him more about the supposed Indian contract. It was horrible,
not knowing if he was lying about it, but prodding would only antagonise him.
And apart from his silence, which no one else knew wasn’t typical, nothing
about his behaviour tonight was suggesting that he didn’t want to adopt Soraya.
Ella took a deep breath, trying not to let her uncertainty show. She was being
silly; Rick had assured her he was happy to wait for a son. He’d even pointed
out there were no guarantees about the sex of your baby when it entered the
family in the usual way.

Ella leaned back as Rick drove home through darkening
streets. Two meetings in two days had been tough. And it was difficult not to
feel daunted about what was in front of them – a change of school for a
six-year-old with concentration problems might not be the easiest part of the
adoption. It might be an idea to have a quiet word with the new teacher when
they enrolled Soraya. Rick pulled up in their driveway, and Ella jumped in
surprise. She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed they were
home.

‘Glass of wine? To celebrate our last week as a twosome?’ she
suggested.

Rick nodded. ‘Be with you in a bit.’

He wandered off up the garden, and Ella fought down
impatience – yet again. That bloody shed was turning into Rick’s sanctuary from
whatever he was trying to avoid. Like her – and Soraya.

She opened the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc she’d put in the
fridge and poured a large glass, then sank into a kitchen chair, elbows propped
on the table, head in hands. If Liz and the others in the adoption team thought
Rick wasn’t one hundred per cent enthusiastic about Soraya’s placement it could
slow the whole thing down. Worst case, they wouldn’t get her. Fear took the
place of Ella’s impatience. That mustn’t happen. The connection between her and
Soraya was very real; nothing should endanger their burgeoning mother-daughter
bond.

She managed to swallow her fear when Rick came in five
minutes later. Be nice, Ella, be fun, keep him happy. They sat in the kitchen
drinking too much wine and planning the next day’s outing with Soraya, when
they would pick her up after school and take her for pizza. Then there would be
the weekend visit when Soraya would stay over both on Friday and Saturday
night, and then – it wouldn’t be long before she was home full time.

Ella gave herself a shake. She and Rick would have to get
things back to normal; secrecy had never been a part of their relationship
before they’d begun this process.

‘Rick – what’s happening with your job?’ she said as he
emptied the bottle into their glasses. The question came straight from her gut.

His eyes met hers. ‘Don’t worry. Things’ll be critical for a
week or two but then we should be on top of it.’ He lifted his glass. ‘You
know, we should knock through this wall and make a big kitchen/dining room, a
family room. Then we can keep the living room to be civilised in.’

Ella sipped her wine. He was changing the subject. But least
said, soonest mended did work sometimes, and a kitchen conversion wasn’t a bad
idea. They sat planning till nearly midnight, when Ella went up to bed,
expecting Rick to follow. But a few minutes later she heard the kitchen door
close. Rick had gone out to the shed.

Wednesday 28th May

When Ella awoke on Wednesday morning – with a headache – Rick
had already gone. She sat in the kitchen nursing a coffee and waiting for the
paracetamol to work. That would teach her to drink half a bottle of wine the
day before an important outing. At least she was only working for a few hours
this afternoon, and by the end of the week she’d be a full-time mum.
Hallelujah.