Don't Let Me Go (26 page)

‘What time is it there?’ Anna cut in, suddenly having had an idea.

‘Ten past six – in the evening.’

‘OK, I’m going to pass you to my husband so he can talk money with you while I try to sort something out,’ and pushing the phone into Bob’s hand she began scrabbling about in her bag for her mobile. Finding it, she searched frantically for the number of the person who might answer her prayers, and pressed to connect.

Busy.

She tried again.

‘Don’t worry,’ Bob was saying to Kim, ‘the Kiwibank’s open on Saturdays so I’ll organise an urgent transfer as soon as it opens. With any luck it’ll be with you first thing tomorrow, your time. You just have to tell me where to send it.’

‘I think our company account will be safest,’ she replied, ‘unless Charlotte still has a bank here.’

‘I don’t think she has, but I’ll check with her mother.’

‘Mr Lang,’ Anna was saying into her mobile, ‘I’m not sure if you remember me. My daughter and I signed a lease on one of your seafront apartments a few months ago, which we had to cancel . . . Yes, that’s right, we decided to return to New Zealand. No, no, I’m not trying to get our deposit back, please don’t think that. I’m ringing to ask if you might have another apartment available . . . I realise it’s . . . OK, yes, thank you, I’ll hold on.’ Putting a hand over the receiver she asked Bob, ‘Is Kim still on the line?’

‘Yes, she wants to know if Charlotte still has a bank account in the UK.’

‘No, she hasn’t. Is that going to be a problem? Yes, of course it is. We must open one for her . . .’ Anna’s mind was racing.

‘We can’t, she has to do it herself, and she’ll need an address for that too.’

‘I’m trying to fix that now. How are we going to get money to her in the meantime?’

‘Through the lawyer. I’m arranging . . .’

‘Hello, Mr Lang, yes I’m still here,’ Anna said urgently. ‘Do you have . . . Yes, that’s the . . . You do!’ Her eyes lit up as she turned to Bob. ‘No, the first floor is perfect,’ she assured Mr Lang. ‘Of course the rent will be more than we were going to pay for the second floor . . . I understand. The balcony sounds lovely. It has two bedrooms. No, part-furnished is fine. When will it be available?’ Her jubilation faded as she said, ‘Not for another month? Oh dear, I was hoping . . . Is there any chance . . . ? No, we really don’t need it to be freshly painted . . . We’re happy to clean the carpets . . . When are the current tenants moving out?’ She glanced at Bob again and crossed her fingers. ‘So would it be possible for us to take it the following day? No, I promise we really don’t mind . . . That would be perfect. A week from Saturday, thank you so much. Can I give your details to our lawyer? She’ll get the deposit to you. I just need to write down the details . . .’ Grabbing the pen Bob was passing her she noted everything quickly, read it back and after thanking Mr Lang again she rang off almost dizzied by adrenalin. ‘That’s a good sign,’ she told Bob. ‘I know it doesn’t give her an address for when she appears in court, but if we can show we’re arranging one . . .’

‘Here, talk to Kim,’ he said, handing her the phone. ‘We might need to give her power of attorney so she can sign the lease on our behalf, unless Charlotte’s able to do it herself, of course.’

‘Kim,’ Anna said into the receiver, ‘I think I’ve got somewhere in Kesterly.’

A few minutes later, having checked and double-checked that all names, bank accounts and addresses were correct, Anna asked, ‘Before you go, has there been any news on Chloe?’

Sounding regretful, Kim replied, ‘Not from this end. How about you?’

‘We heard yesterday that she was about to be flown back to England, but it’s still early in the morning here, so we don’t know yet if it’s happened.’

‘OK, well anything you do hear please let me know so I can pass it on to Charlotte. Same goes this end.’

‘Thank you. Please send Charlotte our love when you see her and tell her I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can. We both will.’

‘I know she’ll appreciate that, but she’s keen you don’t run the risk of being arrested.’

‘I understand that, but please tell her not to worry about us. We’re doing everything we can, and we’ll look forward to speaking to her as soon as she’s allowed to use a phone.’

After ringing off Anna took a deep, steadying breath as Bob went to pull open the curtains. Though it was still barely light it was already showing signs of turning into a drab, misty morning, with little promise of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Autumn had arrived in the bay while in England, from what she’d seen on the news, they’d skipped spring and gone straight into summer.

What was it like for Charlotte being back there – and in a cell! How lonely she must be, and afraid.

‘We need to speak to Don Thackeray again,’ she declared. ‘I have to go over there. She shouldn’t be going through this on her own.’

‘I’ll call him in a couple of hours,’ Bob promised, glancing at the time. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked, as she suddenly headed for the door.

‘To try and find a number for Gabby,’ she replied. ‘I can’t believe she hasn’t contacted us yet, and it could be she doesn’t know how to.’

Once in the kitchen she turned on the computer and a few minutes later she was pressing Gabby’s number into the phone. After the fourth ring a machine picked up, asking her to leave a message.

‘Gabby, it’s Anna Reeves, Charlotte’s – Alex’s – mother,’ she said, as Bob began filling the kettle. ‘I was wondering if you might be trying to get hold of me. If you are, here are my numbers . . .’ After repeating them, she went on, ‘I’m sure you’re as worried about what’s happening as I am, so please call when you can. I mean, I understand if you’re finding it difficult, but I know it would mean a lot to Charlotte if you were in touch.’

As she put the phone down Bob came to put his hands on her shoulders. ‘They could be screening their calls,’ he told her, voicing her thoughts. ‘The press are bound to have found out where they are by now.’

Leaning back against him she said, ‘It’s awful to think they might have been listening to me, and didn’t pick up.’ She decided not to deal with how dreadful Charlotte would feel if Gabby did turn her back on her until she knew this had happened. ‘You know what’s really hard, and sad? It’s that we can find ways to try and help Charlotte, but there’s nothing we can do for Chloe.’

‘I know,’ he said softly, ‘but hopefully that’ll change once we know where she is.’

Chloe was fast asleep in the window seat of an aeroplane that was like the one she’d flown in with Mummy and Nanna. Her head was resting on Boots as if he was a pillow, and in the seat next to her a lady called Tracy was sleeping too. She was a small lady with brown skin and a nice smile, and she was taking Chloe home. That was what she’d said when she’d come to the house where there were toys and a lady who blew out smoke like a dragon, that she was going to take Chloe home. Chloe had thought that meant the bach, but now they were on a plane, and she hadn’t seen Mummy or Nanna yet. She wanted to see Mummy more than anything else in the world, and so did Boots. Maybe she’d be waiting when they got off the plane.

Charlotte was sitting on the edge of the bunk in her cell with her arms clutched tightly around her as she rocked back and forth, imagining Chloe was in them. She was missing her so much, the feel, the sound, the smell of her; the flouncy little wisps of her hair, the lustrous curl of her lashes and her wide, soulful eyes. She could almost hear the infectious music of her laughter; the joyous whoops of her delight, her careful pronunciation of words as she learned to read. She could see her dancing in the waves for pipis, sailing back and forth on her swing; pouring flour into a bowl to help Nanna bake; tilting her head all the way back to look up at Diesel. She was in the bath, shiny and wet; bouncing on her bed; charging about Aroha; watering flowers on Nanna’s veranda.

And wherever she was, Boots was always there too.

Please, please let him be with her now.

As a sob wrenched itself from the depths of her she pressed a hand to her mouth to try and stifle the wretched keening she could feel building inside her. She knew exhaustion was making this worse, and yet she couldn’t imagine how it was possible to feel any better. She loved Chloe more than she loved her own life. She’d never felt the same kind of bond with anyone, and knowing it was the same for Chloe was tearing her apart.

What was Chloe making of all this? What were they telling her?

They should be together, no matter what the law, or social services, or even Chloe’s father might say. She had to get her back. Somehow she had to make everyone understand that they belonged together. It was the reason fate, or God, call it what you will, had brought them into each other’s lives, so that she, Charlotte, could give the dearest, sweetest little creature on earth all the love she’d never had. She could put her back together after the terrible things that had been done to her, and the short time they’d lived as mother and daughter had already proved that. Chloe had been happy; she’d felt safe and loved, and was so ready to love in return that merely thinking about it now was breaking Charlotte’s heart.

How was she going to get her back?
Someone, anyone, please tell me what I have to do to get her back.

Having decided to stay in Kesterly for the night, Kim Giles had just checked into the Starfish hotel on Abbots Road, two back from the seafront, when her mobile started to ring. Dropping her bag next to the lift, she let the doors close without her as she quickly clicked on.

‘It’s Tommy Burgess here,’ the voice at the other end told her in an accent she recognised as Geordie. ‘I got your message and I want you to know I’ll do whatever I can to help Alex through this.’

‘That’s marvellous,’ Kim replied. ‘Wonderful. Thank you. She’ll be so relieved.’

‘Where is she now? They said on the news she’s in custody?’

‘I’m afraid that’s true, but we’re hoping to change things in the morning. She wasn’t sure if you were still in Kesterly . . .’

‘I’m working out my notice – three weeks to go. I’m guessing the reason you’re in touch with me is she’d like some news on Ottilie.’

‘That’s certainly one of the reasons. Obviously, I understand you can’t tell us exactly where she is . . .’

‘Right now she’s on a flight back to England. One of the social workers from our office flew out to get her. Tell Alex it was Tracy Barrall. She’ll know the name, she might even have met her once or twice. She was part of the South Kesterly hub before we merged and became one. Anyway, it should put her mind at rest a bit to know it was Tracy. I’m afraid I’m not being allowed anywhere near the case myself, the powers that be are feeling very sensitive about all this, given how much criticism they’re coming under for not having tighter controls on their staff. Idiots, the lot of them. Anyway, they want to avoid me passing on any information that Alex probably ought not to have. Probably the way I just did.’

In spite of understanding what a tricky position he was in, Kim kept her client’s interests at the forefront and pressed on regardless. ‘Tell me, have the police interviewed you or any of your colleagues yet?’ she asked.

‘No. I’m told they’re coming to the office sometime next week.’

‘OK, and
your
general feeling about what happened would be . . . ?’

‘That she broke the law, fair and square, but do I condemn her for it? No, I don’t, because I know how attached she’d become to the child, and I also know how much good she did for her . . . Obviously it’s a lot more complicated than that, but that’s my basic feeling about it.’

‘That she did wrong, but for the right reasons?’

‘Precisely. She should have entered her into the system, of course, but having first-hand knowledge of what the system can do to a child it doesn’t surprise me that she chose not to.’

Mentally filing that away, Kim said, ‘Speaking of the system, Charlotte, which is now her legal name by the way, so is how she’ll be referred to in court, wanted me to ask you if you can fix it for Chloe – or Ottilie as you know her – to go to a foster carer by the name of Maggie Fenn. Would that be possible?’

‘I wish I could tell you it was, because Maggie Fenn would be my first choice too, but as I said, I’m not being allowed any influence on the case. Besides which, they’re not likely to keep her in the immediate area.’

‘So do you have any idea where she might go?’

‘All I can tell you is that a placement has already been set-up, probably with a neighbouring authority, and that the files containing all the information on Ottilie are now password-protected. Needless to say I don’t have the password.’

Unsurprised by that, Kim said, ‘OK. There’s one other thing that you might be able to help with. Charlotte’s very concerned about anyone using the name Ottilie. Given what happened to her when she had that name, well, I expect you can guess where I’m going with this . . .’

‘Of course I can, and Alex – Charlotte’s – right, the new carers should be told to avoid using it. I’ll try calling Tracy once the plane’s landed. Meantime, you should probably contact our department manager and speak to her about it yourself, or she’ll know we’ve been in touch and I don’t think you want that.’

‘No, I’m sure I don’t. Thanks. What’s her name?’

‘Wendy Fraser. I ought to warn you that Alex was never her favourite person, and Alex had no fondness for her either. However, I’m hopeful Wendy will be professional enough to set aside her prejudices over something as important as this.’

‘I hope so too. Anyone else I should be concerned about?’

‘Not really. Alex had a good working relationship with most of her colleagues. The only one she didn’t get on with especially well lost his job during a recent merger of the Kesterly hubs.’

‘OK. We can go into all of this further when we meet, which I hope will be tomorrow, at the magistrates’ court? Charlotte’s applying for bail, and this is where you could come in again. She needs to have an address and . . .’

‘She can stay with us, I know my wife would insist, and when you speak to her, please tell her Jackie and I are going to be there for her every step of the way.’