Don't Let Me Go (27 page)

Impressed by his warmth, Kim said, ‘I’ll be happy to tell her. Do you happen to know her sister?’

‘Gabby? Not really. We only met a couple of times, but they were pretty close, in spite of Charlotte being adopted.’

Kim’s eyebrows rose. ‘You mean Anna’s not her real mother?’

‘No, Anna is her real mother. She came back into Charlotte’s life about six months ago, which was wonderful for Charlotte. For Anna too. I don’t know if you’re aware of their history . . .’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Well, it’s for them to tell you, not me, but it’s quite a story. Going back to Gabby, have you spoken to her yet? I’m sure she’d offer Charlotte an address just in case you think it might jeopardise things if Charlotte comes to us.’

‘You know, for some reason Charlotte didn’t tell me about her,’ Kim confided, ‘so I’ve left it to Anna to contact her. Let’s hope we get some good news from her soon, because you’re right, it probably would be better if Charlotte could go to her sister.’

‘How is Charlotte in herself?’

‘I guess the first word that springs to mind is shattered, both emotionally and physically, but hopefully things should improve once she’s had some sleep. Anyway, I must go now, I’ve a lot to do before tomorrow’s hearing. It’s been good talking to you, I’ll look forward to when we meet, and should you happen to receive any news on Chloe that you feel able to share, please give me a call, any time day or night.’

‘OK, I’m off now,’ DCI Gould declared, coming out of his office into the main CID area. ‘Match starts in fifteen, so plenty of time to get to the pub. Are you up for it, Darren?’

‘Right with you,’ Wild responded, signing off his computer as he got to his feet.

‘How about you, Karen? Or football not your thing?’

‘More of a rugby man myself,’ Potter replied, barely glancing up from her screen.

‘What are you up to there?’ he asked, coming to look over her shoulder. ‘Catching up on Facebook, or Internet dating?’

‘Actually, sir, I was just doing a bit of digging around about Charlotte Nicholls.’

Gould’s expression darkened. ‘And?’

‘And nothing so far, but I have discovered that Ottilie Wade’s father was moved to HMP Long Lartin a couple of weeks ago.’

Gould’s eyebrows rose. ‘And that would be of significance because?’

She looked at him askance. ‘Because he’s her father, sir.’

‘And?’

‘And as such I don’t think we should forget his existence. I know, after what he did, there’s no way he’d get a say in what happens to her, but unlike the mother, he’s not dead.’

‘That piece of scum will never be going near his daughter again in his lifetime. Chances are he’ll never set foot this side of his prison walls again either, so I’m not getting what your issue is.’

‘I don’t have one. I’m just making sure we know where and who everyone is, so we’re not made to look . . .’ She stopped, flushing deeply.

‘Fools again?’ he finished for her. ‘Well, that’s not a bad idea, so stay with it. Just don’t bother wasting any more time on that nonce, cos I promise you, he’s being well taken care of where he is. It’s Alex Lake who concerns me. We know from experience how sly she can be, and the last thing we want is her walking out of that magistrates’ court tomorrow making us look a right bunch of tossers again. And now she’s got Jolyon Crane’s team on her case it could seriously happen.’

‘Don’t worry, sir,’ Potter responded. ‘Andy Phipps is the prosecutor and he’s with us all the way on this, so our friend
Charlotte
doesn’t stand a chance of getting bail, especially when she’s already fled the country once.’

Gould’s eyes were narrowing. ‘You’d better be right about that,’ he muttered darkly. ‘You’d just better be right,’ and leaving her to it he started towards the lift.

Chapter Fourteen

CHARLOTTE KNEW THAT
if the police were feeling friendlier towards her, one of them might be driving her to the magistrates’ court this morning. As it was, after being allowed to shower and change into the clean clothes Kim had delivered to the station late last night, she’d found herself being escorted to the Reliance security van, where the usual Saturday morning rabble of Friday night drunks were already waiting to be transported.

Now they were riding alongside her in their own cramped cubicle, snorting and coughing and generally telling the world to ‘shut the fuck up.’

For Charlotte, far worse than travelling in a steel box with barely enough room to stand, never mind sit, was knowing that the press were following its brief journey from the station to the old town hall where the court was held. Though she couldn’t see them, she could hear the commotion, and as soon as the van turned on to Victoria Square progress became even slower, telling her that there were as many reporters and camera crews here today as there had been outside the police station yesterday. Most likely there were more.

After the security shutters rolled down behind the van, sealing it into the cavernous basement of the court, Charlotte waited tensely for someone to come and release her. It seemed she was going to be the last out, which was both awful and a relief, since she had no desire to go into court, but nor did she want to remain trapped in this coffin of a cell.

Eventually, a guard snapped open the lock on her door, and giving her a mocking bow as she came out, he said, ‘Didn’t realise we had a celebrity on board this morning.’

Keeping her eyes down, Charlotte made her way along the van’s narrow corridor to step out of the back door to where her fellow unfortunates were being frisked and signed in before being delivered into one of the two holding cells. As she was the only female she was allotted the second cell, whose bleak stone walls didn’t appear to have seen much in the way of a paintbrush in at least fifty years.

Just as the horror of it started settling around her again, trying to lock her into its claustrophobic grip, the iron gate suddenly clanged open and she was being told to follow a guard.

At the far end of the holding area she was shown through a door into a large, sparsely furnished room with harsh strobe lighting and dismal grey walls. She almost swayed with relief when she saw Kim Giles waiting.

‘Are you OK?’ Kim asked worriedly as Charlotte started to shake.

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ Charlotte lied. ‘I didn’t know . . . I thought I was being taken up . . . Sorry, I’ll have myself together in a moment.’

Sitting her down at the table, Kim said, ‘Here, I brought us some coffee and pastries. I thought we could have breakfast together.’

Smiling through the tumult of her nerves, Charlotte said, ‘That’s lovely. Thank you.’

‘I expect it’ll be a bit more edifying than whatever you were offered first thing,’ Kim commented wryly. ‘Have you eaten at all since I left last night?’

Charlotte grimaced. ‘Half a pot noodle and a ham sandwich,’ she confessed. ‘Not the tastiest meal I’ve ever had, but the room service wasn’t bad.’

Kim smiled and passed her a steaming carton of coffee. ‘How about sleep? Did you manage any?’

‘Actually, I did, on and off.’ Her eyes closed as the taste of a hot cappuccino began spreading its magic through her system. God, she’d needed that.

‘You’re looking a lot better than you did yesterday,’ Kim told her frankly. ‘Are you feeling it?’

‘Definitely now,’ Charlotte confirmed, sipping the cappuccino again. ‘Did you know this was my coffee of choice, or did you guess?’

‘I texted your mother.’

The mention of her mother led her straight to Chloe’s love of fluffies, or babyccinos, and suddenly she wanted no more coffee. If Chloe couldn’t have her favourite drink it didn’t seem right that she should have hers.

Kim was opening up her laptop as she tucked into a pastry. ‘Your mother and stepfather have been pretty busy over there while we’ve all been in bed,’ she was saying. ‘They’ve sorted out bank transfers, rented an apartment, contacted your friends . . .’

‘Which friends?’ Charlotte interrupted, managing to sound as though she didn’t have any.

Unfazed, Kim said, ‘Apparently your mother contacted Tommy Burgess after I did last night, to try and send him money to cover your expenses while you’re with him over . . .’

‘Hang on, hang on, what do you mean while I’m with him?’

Kim smiled. ‘If we get bail today, and I’m very hopeful we will, he and his wife are keen for you to go and stay there. As it’s the only address we can offer the court at the moment, I strongly advise you to accept.’

Charlotte was feeling slightly dazed. ‘But I lied to him, the way I did to everyone else . . .’

‘Please put that out of your mind now. What you did, how your conscience is behaving, isn’t relevant to anything we’re trying to achieve here today. We just have to go in front of the magistrate – actually it’s a district judge sitting this morning, Charles Edmore, do you know him?’

Charlotte shook her head. ‘The family courts were more my territory. What’s he like?’

‘I haven’t come across him before, but Jolyon says he’s OK. Bit humourless, but generally tends more towards the lenient than the severe, which is great for us. We’re last up, apparently, so that gives us the chance to prepare you. Would you like another?’ she offered, as Charlotte finished a pastry.

Surprised to realise she’d eaten it, Charlotte replied, ‘No, that was plenty, thanks.’ Then, unable to go any further without asking about Chloe, she said, ‘Do you have any news on where she is?’

Clearly knowing straight away who they were talking about, Kim met her eyes and Charlotte felt her heart turn over.

‘What – what is it?’ she stumbled. ‘Is she all right?’

‘I heard just before coming here that she’s back in England now.’

Charlotte wanted to get up. She needed to go to her, to make sure she understood that she was still loved and that she didn’t have to be afraid . . .

‘Tommy thought you’d want to know that Tracy Barrall went to bring her back,’ Kim said softly.

‘Tracy?’ Charlotte echoed.

‘I believe she was at the South Kesterly hub while you . . .’

‘Yes, yes of course,’ Charlotte said, remembering. ‘That’s good. Tracy’ll be kind to her. Oh God, she must be so scared, so confused . . .’

‘Charlotte, you can’t let yourself get into a panic over it,’ Kim cautioned gravely. ‘Somehow you’re going to have to accept that for the time being at least, she’s in the custody of social services and there’s nothing any of us can do about it. I’m sorry if that sounds brutal, but you need to be worrying about yourself now, and how we’re going to get you through this.’

Charlotte swallowed dryly as she nodded. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said hoarsely, ‘it’s just to think of her being shunted about the world by strangers, brought back to this area and not being able to see her . . . Will she be staying here? She must be if they sent Tracy for her.’

‘I don’t know what the long-term plans are, and Tommy’s not being allowed any involvement so he can’t tell us either. For the moment, though, we can probably safely assume that she’s heading this way, given that the plane touched down about eight this morning.’

Imagining her sitting in the back of a strange car, not tall enough to see out of the window, having no idea of where she was going or what to expect when she got there, Charlotte barely knew how to stifle the anguish. Please God she wasn’t thinking Mummy would be waiting at the end of her journey, because if she was the disappointment was going to be so crushing when she got there. ‘Do you think I’ll be allowed to write her a note?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.

Looking at her steadily, Kim said, ‘I’m sure you realise that if you get bail there’ll be conditions and one of them . . .’

‘. . . will be that I can’t go anywhere near her,’ Charlotte interrupted in a strangled voice. ‘I know, I just . . . It’s . . .’ She pressed her fingers to her lips as her eyes burned with tears. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I don’t seem to be handling this very well at all.’

‘You’re still jet-lagged,’ Kim reminded her, ‘as well as shell-shocked, traumatised and probably half-starved. So don’t be too hard on yourself, and do your best to try another pastry while I tell you what your family in New Zealand have been doing.’

Though she had no appetite, Charlotte obediently picked up another mini-Danish and took a bite. What she wouldn’t give to be back in New Zealand, to be the person she’d been there, instead of the wreck she was here, but thinking that way wasn’t going to help her at all, so she made an effort to push it to the back of her mind.

Glancing at her watch, Kim said, ‘I’m waiting for a call to tell me if the transfer your stepfather made yesterday has arrived in our bank yet. This will be the money for bail, just in case it’s needed.’

Both embarrassed and grateful for Bob’s generosity, Charlotte said, ‘I hope he realises that as soon as I can access my own account . . .’

‘Of course, and you can deal with that then. For now, it’s important that we’re able to demonstrate how serious you are about remaining in the country. If you stand to lose everything, financially, you should be seen as less of a flight risk.’ She scrolled through her notes and continued, ‘In addition to Tommy’s offer for you to stay with him your mother has arranged to rent an apartment for you, here in Kesterly, through a Mr Lang. Apparently you’ve rented from him before, but had to cancel the lease when you decided to go to New Zealand?’

‘That’s right,’ Charlotte confirmed. ‘He has flats all over the place, I believe.’

‘He does, but this one is in the same building as you were going to rent in before, on the Promenade. We’re due to meet with him on Monday to sign a lease and pay the deposit. The flat itself should be ready for you to move into the week after.’

Feeling faintly dizzied by the speed at which her life was changing, and anxious about how out of control she felt, Charlotte put the pastry down again, unable to eat any more. ‘It’s good,’ she said, ‘that I won’t have to put on Tommy and Jackie for too long, but taking a flat . . . I mean, I realise I have to, it just makes it seem so . . . permanent here.’

Kim regarded her carefully, and Charlotte flushed as she thought of another, and worse, form of permanence.