Chosen Child (26 page)

Minutes ticked by and at five to Ella allowed herself to
formulate the thought that was lurking ever closer – what if he didn’t come?
What if he’d just said he would to keep her out of his hair? And how pathetic
it was that she’d been reduced to this, a frightened woman waiting for her
husband, helpless to do anything to bring her child home.

At five past she turned away, sick at heart. Oh, he could
have been delayed for any number of reasons… traffic, Soraya playing up, a
queue at the petrol station… but somehow she didn’t think so. She would give
him until one and then call him, but there was nothing to say he’d answer his
wretched phone, was there? And now she needed a coffee like never before.

Soraya’s butterfly mug in the cupboard brought tears to
Ella’s eyes, but she blinked them away with grim determination. She was
not
going to let Rick win here. A call was maybe too easy
for him to ignore – she would text him that if he didn’t appear within the next
couple of hours, she’d report it to Liz… who would involve the police. But if
that happened Soraya might be sent straight back to Mel when she was found. It
was the perfect Catch 22 situation. Ella hugged the mug to her chest, her
courage deserting her. This was horrendous – she could do nothing to find her
girl.

The ringing of the doorbell had her heart rate soaring, but
a glance outside revealed Amanda on the doorstep. Bless her, thought Ella as
she trailed through to the hallway. She knows how tough this is and she’s doing
her best to be supportive.

The younger woman gave her a quick smile. ‘Hi. I was passing
and saw the car wasn’t here. Is Rick -?’

‘Heaven alone knows where. I can’t believe he’s doing this.’
Ella stood to the side. ‘Come in and have a coffee. Where’s Jaden?’

‘He’s with a friend today. We alternate with the kids once a
week.’

Silence fell as they sat at the kitchen table, steaming mugs
in front of them.

Ella broke it. ‘I’ll give him until three,’ she said,
pulling out her phone and texting as quickly as she could with cold, nervous
fingers. ‘Then I’ll call our adoption society worker. He can’t do this. I’m
worried about Soraya.’ Hopefully the mere thought of the authorities being
involved would be enough to bring Rick to his senses.

‘Oh dear, that does seem drastic. Do you think maybe he’s –
not well? Depressed or something? Due to your father’s death?’

Amanda sounded flustered and Ella paused. Was she being too
hard on Rick? No, because no matter what was going on with him, there was
Soraya to consider as well. She finished her text and pressed send.

‘I can’t help him – or Soraya – while they’re not here,’ she
said, feeling better now the way forward was more clear. And Amanda must be wrong
– there was no reason for Rick to be so affected by Dad’s death. She was the
one who’d failed to resuscitate him, not Rick. She was the one who’d lost a
parent – and she was well on the way towards losing her husband as well as her
child. Oh please no.

Amanda was sitting with both hands encircling her mug,
fingers tapping against the blue and white stripes. Ella searched for something
to say; not so easy when circumstances had thrown the two of them into a closer
relationship than either of them was ready for.

It was a relief when the doorbell rang and Owen’s voice
called, ‘Anyone home? You’ve left the front door open!’

Ella went out to the hallway. ‘Owen – come in. Thanks – I’m
all over the place today. This is Amanda, Jaden’s mum.’

He joined them at the table and accepted Ella’s offer of
coffee. ‘I’m not surprised you’re stressed – you’ve had a terrible time. How’s
your mother?’

‘Not great. She’s with her cousin in Helston. And Rick’s,
um, taken Soraya away for a day or two, I’m expecting them back today but…’
Ella pressed her lips together, blinking hard and feeling Owen’s gaze. She
would burst into tears if she said another word here. It was terrifying to have
such a frail hold on her self-control.

‘He’ll be back soon,’ said Amanda, but she didn’t sound
convincing.

Owen moved in his chair and Ella glanced up to see him
frown. ‘Ella, I suppose he’s okay after Monday? I wasn’t at home, but Mum saw
Rick support your father out of the shed and she told me later how he’d cracked
his head and then fallen.’

Ella froze. It was one of those moments when the world seems
to stop for an instant before continuing in a different spiral. Rick and Dad
were in the
shed
… but Rick said he’d seen her father
collapse on the grass…

Owen was looking at her, waiting for an answer.

‘I didn’t know anything about the shed – but he’s been weird
about it for weeks. I didn’t know he’d been hurt. Oh no…’

A picture of Rick in the garden that day slid into Ella’s
mind. He’d banged on the kitchen door and when she opened it her father was
face down on the path and Rick said,
‘He was stumbling over
the grass…’

Why would Rick lie about where he’d found her father? Come
to that, what was Rick doing in the shed at all? Dad had been hacking out
concrete, Rick must have come here and gone straight to the shed. What an odd
thing to do. Something was just very wrong here. Owen and Amanda were staring,
Amanda’s face apprehensive while Owen’s was thoughtful.

‘You look dazed, Ella. Tell me what I can do to help.’

Ella clasped trembling fingers round her mug and met his
eyes. He was trained to deal with people in weird situations – he must be able
to see her fear and pain. If anyone could advise her, he could.

‘I’m giving Rick till three to come back,’ she said in a low
voice. ‘If he doesn’t… I might need help then.’

‘And you last spoke to him…?’ It was the policeman sitting
opposite her now.

‘Yesterday. He sounded – all right.’

‘So there’s no reason to think he might be ill in any way?’

Ella stared. Actually, there wasn’t. Rick was punishing her for
wanting to be Soraya’s mum and live in this house, but that didn’t count as
‘ill’.

‘He’s upset and being awkward, that’s all. Men, huh?’

He gave her a sharp look, then rose to his feet. ‘Okay. Let
me know, then. Thanks for the coffee.’

Ella took him to the door and returned to find Amanda
putting the mugs in the dishwasher.

‘Ella, is Owen a…?’

‘Policeman. You can tell, can’t you? He works in Newquay but
he’s on leave until mid-August. I only hope I don’t need his professional
help.’ Ella struggled to stifle a yawn; she couldn’t remember when she’d last
felt so exhausted.

Amanda closed the dishwasher. ‘I’ll be off too. I’m sure
Rick’ll be back soon, Ella. Give me a ring if you need any more shopping.’

She hurried off, leaving Ella alone once again in the
silence of an empty house. She checked her phone, but no answering text from
Rick had appeared. This was every bit as bad as waiting at the hospital,
helpless as they tried to save her father. And oh, was Soraya afraid? The child
must know something wasn’t right. Poor little soul. It might have been better
for Soraya if they’d never played racing cars that day at the adoption party.
Hot tears gathered in Ella’s eyes and her throat closed. How were they to get
out of this mess?

She booted up the laptop to check her emails. Two spam
mails, a bill, and – an email from the school she’d applied to, for the
secretarial job. She’d cancelled yesterday’s interview, of course, pleading a
death in the family.

It was a date for another interview, this coming Wednesday.
Well. At least they were interested in her application. Ella jotted the details
on a note and stuck it to the fridge, new determination filling her. She would
find a job and she would get her daughter back and no matter what happened to
her marriage, she would do her damnedest to adopt Soraya. But before she did
any of that she’d go and have a good poke in the shed, see if she could find
out why Rick went there on Monday and then lied about it. He could go to hell.
She wasn’t going to let him bully her any longer.

The shed was messy; no one – of course – had done anything
more about Steve’s concrete-removing work. Ella stood in the doorway. She
hadn’t been in here since before her father’s death, and how odd; the wooden
slabs were back on top of the concrete, inches higher than they had been,
turning the shed floor into a two-level affair. The wheelbarrow on the low side
was half full of mud and chunks of concrete. Possibly Dad had finished his job
and tried to replace the floor before feeling unwell? Ella stamped, feeling
instability beneath her foot. The slabs were a metre by two metres and were
supposed to slot into each other, but two of them were wobbly and uneven,
unattached to the next. Had Dad rushed the job at the end, realising there was
something wrong?

Ella crouched on one of the non-wobbly slabs and pressed on
its neighbour. One end lifted, and she grabbed it and heaved the slab on its
side. Well. Here was part of the answer; Dad hadn’t nearly finished. The
central mass of concrete was still intact, though the edges had been lifted all
the way round. Dad must have got fed up chipping it away. She dropped the slab
and it banged back into position. Someone would have to fix that one day, but
not her and definitely not today. Ella glanced at her watch. Half past two.
Half an hour and then she would do – what?

Friday 1st August

‘This is the wrong way! You said we were going home to
Mummy!’

Soraya unclicked her seat belt and Rick slowed down,
frustration mingling with fear as the child stood up in the back seat.

‘Sit down! We’re not going the wrong way – you don’t know
all the roads around here. This is a better way.’

Soraya sat, but not in her car seat and Rick pulled over as
soon as he had the chance. She was right, of course. They were on the A30
heading north-east, and they’d passed the exit for St Ives. He undid his own
belt and twisted round to the child in the back. Her face was desperate and
Rick searched for something to keep her quiet.

‘We – we’re going to the place you bought Mummy the weather
house first. Remember?’

‘And then we’re going home?’

‘Yes. But we’re not moving until you’re back in your seat.’

She shifted immediately, and Rick leaned back to make sure
she was strapped in, avoiding eye contact. He had no idea what he was doing –
he’d intended going back to Ella, but as soon as the road sign for St Ives
loomed over the car he’d realised he couldn’t cope with a confrontation with
his wife. Not yet, not today, maybe not ever. There would be messages from both
Ella and Amanda on his phone when he switched it on, and God help him, he
didn’t know what to do. Something was different today; he felt different.
Heavier.

The service station was busy with people having lunch. As
well as the shop and a small restaurant there was a snack bar where a crowd of
noisy bikers were hanging out eating burgers. Soraya’s eyes were wide as she
gazed round, and her lower lip was trembling. Rick grasped her hand.

‘What would you like for lunch?’

‘I want to go home for my lunch.’ It was a frightened,
peevish little whisper and it made Rick see red. Everyone, even this child who
was nothing to do with him, was against him today.

‘We’re not going home yet. You can choose something here or
you can go hungry.’

Soraya burst into noisy tears and he jumped in fright then
stretched a hand towards her. She jerked away and ran towards the door.

‘I want to go home to my Mummy! I don’t want to be with you
anymore.’

The bikers and the snack bar personnel were staring and to
Rick’s horror and embarrassment, silence fell. He wiped his face with one hand
and went after Soraya, but a woman ran out from behind the snack bar and
reached the girl first.

‘Can I help you, sweetheart? Where’s your Mummy?’ She took
Soraya’s hand.

Tears trickled down Soraya’s face, and Rick was suddenly and
painfully aware of how unkempt she looked. He hadn’t combed her hair that
morning, and her t-shirt had more than a trace of last night’s dinner down the
front.

When sniffs and sobs were the only answer the woman tried
again. ‘Can you tell me where you live, darling?’

Rick found his voice. ‘Please. It’s all right. She’s upset,
we’ve had a death in the family – my wife’s father. It hasn’t been easy for
her, has it, Soraya?’

‘Is that your name, lovey?’ A nod. ‘And is this your daddy?’
A stare. The woman turned to Rick, her expression neutral. ‘Can you prove
you’re Soraya’s father, sir?’

Two of the bikers had approached and were standing behind
the woman, and Rick began to shake. They were ready to intervene if he made a
run for it. For a second his mind went blank, then he pulled out his wallet.
Bless Ella, she had saved the day. The photo of the three of them she’d put in
his wallet was a laughing family group, Soraya in the middle with a large ice
cream. He thrust it into the woman’s hand and her face relaxed.

‘What a lovely photo! Is this your mum, sweetheart?’

This time, she got an answer. ‘That’s me and my mum… and my
dad and I want to go home now.’

Rick put his hand on her head, and thankfully this time she
didn’t pull away. ‘We will go home, Soraya. But Mummy needs to get things
sorted first. How about some lunch?’

‘We can do you a lovely cheeseburger with chips?’ said the
woman. ‘On the house. How about that?’

Tears spilled down Soraya’s cheeks, and Rick could have
shaken her.

‘I wanted to go to my mummy for a long time,’ she whispered,
and the woman hugged her.

‘I’m sure Daddy’ll take you as soon as Mummy’s ready for
you, sweetie. Come and have some lunch.’

Soraya allowed the woman to lead her back to the snack bar
and sit her on a high stool. Rick perched beside her; at least the goddamn meal
was free. It was all he could be glad about here. Soraya picked listlessly at
her burger, gazing at the woman, who came by every couple of minutes to make
sure everything was all right. The bikers left, leaving the snack bar almost
deserted, which made Soraya’s non-replies to Rick’s remarks more obvious. He
could cheerfully have throttled her, and the tight band round his head was
getting tighter by the minute. He ordered a double espresso and swallowed two
paracetamol along with it, but by the time they left Rick felt as if he’d run
to Land’s End and back. He settled Soraya into the car and got behind the
wheel.