No Child of Mine (22 page)

Ottilie’s head stayed down as she climbed.

Alex felt such a swell of affection for the child that it seemed to fill her up completely, and though she hadn’t taken an instant shine to Wade it pleased her to see how proud he was of his daughter.

Ottilie’s bedroom turned out to be as large as she’d expected, given the size of the house and small number of occupants, and was cluttered with the usual little-girl paraphernalia – indeed it was clear that in a material sense at least, Ottilie Wade didn’t want for much.

‘This is a very special room,’ Alex told her, as Ottilie gazed up at her, apparently waiting for a response.

Letting go of her father’s hand, Ottilie trotted over to a pile of jigsaws and turned one of the boxes upside down so the pieces fell out on to the floor.

‘Ottilie, really,’ Wade admonished.

Ottilie’s eyes immediately showed how worried she was that she’d done something wrong.

Going to her, Alex said, ‘Will you teach me how to do the puzzle?’

Ottilie was still watching her father.

Turning to Wade, Alex noticed that he’d started to sweat. She was curious to know why, unless it was the climb up the stairs. Since she was unable to ask, she said, ‘I really would like to have a chat with Ottilie. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind ...’

Wade clearly did. ‘But if she gets upset ...’

‘Don’t worry. You can leave the door open.’ Though she’d have preferred a few minutes’ total privacy with the child, at this stage of proceedings Ottilie wasn’t under protection, so being completely alone with her was neither allowed nor wise.

Wade was staring down at Ottilie, who seemed more confused than ever, with her lips sucked tightly between her teeth.

‘Really, Mr Wade, it’ll be fine,’ Alex assured him.

Apparently realising he had no choice but to accept, he said, ‘You’ll be a good girl now, Ottilie, won’t you? I’ll be out on the landing – and don’t forget the little chat we had, will you?’

Ottilie’s face looked more pinched than ever.

‘It’s OK,’ he said softly. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. You just have to do as you’re told.’

Wondering what might have been said in this little chat, Alex waited for him to leave, then turning to Ottilie she said, ‘Shall we sit on the floor to do the puzzle?’

Ottilie took a step back.

‘It’s OK,’ Alex assured her, ‘I promise there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’d just like to see how good you are at doing puzzles. Is this one of your favourites?’

Ottilie looked down at the pieces and nodded her head.

‘Come on then,’ Alex said, sitting cross-legged in front of it, ‘you can show me how it’s done.’

Needing no more persuading Ottilie plonked herself down, crossed her own little legs, and began putting the large, colourful pieces together.

For a few minutes Alex simply watched, captivated by the way the inexpert fingers searched and pressed, while
the sound of her almost babylike breathing as she concentrated was as softly rhythmic as the rain outside.

‘You’re very good at this,’ she praised, as Ottilie completed the picture of a train with two children on board in surprisingly good time. ‘I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen it done.’

Though Ottilie didn’t smile exactly, Alex felt sure she was pleased.

‘Have you got many puzzles?’ Alex asked.

Immediately getting up, Ottilie went to fetch two more and put them down on the floor between them.

‘Can you do these on your own too?’

Ottilie nodded.

‘You’re clearly very good at puzzles. What else do you like to play with?’

Ottilie looked around uncertainly, then standing up she touched her nose and her toes, then gave an awkward little twirl as she clapped her hands.

Enchanted, Alex laughed and clapped too. ‘You’re a lovely dancer,’ she told her. How had she not noticed before that neither parent had touched this child in her presence, apart from when her father had helped her up the stairs? For her part she could barely keep her hands to herself, she wanted to squeeze her so much.

Ottilie was off across the room again, this time coming back with a large pad of white paper and a box that turned out to be full of chalks and crayons. For such a shy child, she certainly seemed to love having someone to show off to.

‘I can see you like drawing,’ Alex remarked, noticing several colourful pictures pinned to a board next to the bed, also dangling from the shelves and pasted on to the walls. The bedding, she’d already noted, looked fresh and clean, as did the rest of the room. Whatever else might be happening to Ottilie, her basic needs appeared to be taken care of. ‘Do you have lots of lovely pretty clothes?’ she asked.

When Ottilie didn’t answer, Alex turned to find her staring at her with an unreadable expression.

‘I like clothes, do you?’ Alex ventured.

Ottilie seemed unsure.

‘I know, why don’t we have a look in your wardrobe?’

Immediately Ottilie got up and went to stand in front of a cupboard door. Since the latch was too high for her to reach Alex opened it herself, and found everything inside exactly as it should be. There turned out to be nothing in the chest of drawers to concern her either.

Realising Ottilie was watching her, she started to twinkle. ‘I expect you think I’m really nosy, don’t you?’ she said.

Ottilie didn’t answer.

Alex clapped a hand over her face. ‘Oh no, I think my nose is growing. It’ll serve me right for poking it into places I shouldn’t go.’

Ottilie’s eyes widened with awe.

‘Does it look big?’ Alex asked, taking her hand away.

Ottilie looked and shook her head.

‘Oh, thank goodness for that,’ Alex gasped in relief. ‘I wouldn’t want to have a big nose, would you?’

Again Ottilie shook her head.

Alex knelt down in front of her and smiled.

Ottilie quickly sucked in her lips.

It was true to say that most children affected Alex deeply, no matter their age, background, colour or problems, but there was something about this little girl that was folding around her heart in a way that felt more tender, more potent than anything she generally experienced. It made her think of petals, soft and fragrant, or threads of silk weaving and spinning them together.

Leaning back to get a clearer look at her, she said, ‘You’re not afraid of me, are you?’

Ottilie looked as though she might be.

‘I promise, you’ve no need to be. I’m here to be your friend.’

At that Ottilie went to fetch a teddy from the bed. Hugging it closely to her chest she turned back to Alex again.

Thinking she understood, Alex said, ‘Is teddy your friend too?’

Ottilie nodded and rested her cheek on top of the bear’s head.

‘I expect he’s a very good friend, isn’t he? Does he have a name?’

Ottilie tightened her hug and began twisting from side to side.

‘I’m sure he has a name. Is it Paddington?’

Ottilie shook her head.

‘Dumbo?’

Again no.

‘Eddie?’

Still no.

They went through several more options until to Alex’s amazement Ottilie whispered something.

‘What did you say?’ Alex prompted gently.

‘Boots,’ Ottilie repeated, and buried her face in his fur.

Having to force back another urge to scoop her into an enveloping embrace, Alex sat quietly waiting to see what Ottilie would do next.

What was really going on here, she asked herself, as Ottilie set her bear down between them and held a crayon to his paw. Why didn’t she speak when she almost certainly could, and even wanted to, and what had her father chatted to her about before Alex had come here? Picturing him outside on the landing, listening, hovering, she felt a sinking sensation inside, as though he was some sort of intruder in his own home. She really had to get past her antipathy for the man, or it was going to make it even more impossible to remain objective, particularly in view of her instant fondness for Ottilie.

‘Does Boots always join in your games?’ she asked, as Ottilie gripped the teddy’s paw and crayon to make it look as though he was doing the drawing.

Ottilie shook her head.

‘No? So what sort of games do you play without him?’ Potentially one of the most leading questions she’d asked so far, and as Ottilie got up from the floor her father broke his silence to pop his head round the door.

‘Everything all right in here?’ he asked, trying to make it seem as though he was just passing by.

Finding it annoying – and interesting – that he’d chosen that moment to reappear, Alex stood up, saying, ‘Ottilie
was about to show me some of the games she plays.’

His eyes lit up. ‘Oh, there are plenty of those, aren’t there?’ he encouraged Ottilie. ‘Dress-up, and schools and cooking and tiddlywinks. We play lots of games together, don’t we, dear?’

‘Not tiger,’ Ottilie said worriedly.

‘Ssh, no, not tiger,’ he promised.

Confused, Alex said, ‘Tyre?’

Wade’s face seemed flushed. ‘It’s nothing ... It’s ...’ He gave a little laugh. ‘We had a tyre as a swing once and she fell off, I’m afraid.’

Alex looked down at Ottilie again who was now fumbling with the waistband of her leggings.

‘Now, now, if you want to go to the toilet,’ Wade said sharply, ‘you know where it is,’ and holding the door wide he watched her walk under his arm to go and do as she was told. ‘Well,’ he said when he and Alex were alone, ‘you certainly seem to have a way with children. I haven’t seen Ottilie quite so forthcoming before with someone she doesn’t know.’

Putting the bear back on the bed, Alex asked, ‘How often does she actually see people she doesn’t know?’

Reddening, he shifted his gaze as he said, ‘Well, not regularly, it’s true, because we haven’t wanted to foist it on her when she finds it so hard.’

‘But surely, the more frequently you try the more she’ll get used to it.’

‘Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re right. I expect I have been a bit ... overprotective in that respect, but I hope you’ll agree she’s a perfectly healthy and happy little girl who wants for nothing.’

Apart from friends, a brother, or sister, a functioning mother, and a father who’s not so controlling he’s practically smothering her
, Alex thought, but didn’t say. And then there was the enormous issue of Ottilie not speaking; Alex would have very much liked to know what lay behind that.

The next few minutes were spent back downstairs in the sitting room going over what would happen in the days to come, which she noticed seemed to fluster Wade. Quite what effect it might have had on Mrs Wade was
anyone’s guess, since she’d disappeared from the sitting room now, and from the sound of it was in the kitchen.

Suspecting that Wade had assumed – or at least hoped – that today would be her first and last visit, she said, ‘I’ll come again next week to bring you a copy of my initial assessment, which ...’

‘Initial? But you can see she’s fine.’

Alex’s expression remained neutral. ‘Here’s a leaflet explaining what the assessment will cover,’ she said, taking one from her bag and handing it over. ‘It also outlines your rights and tells you how to submit your own comments, should you wish to.’

Taking it without looking at it, he said, ‘I really don’t think all this is necessary ...’

‘Mr Wade, Ottilie doesn’t speak,’ she broke in firmly. ‘She doesn’t go to nursery school, and she doesn’t have a health visitor. These are all causes for concern. Perhaps you’ll have addressed them by the time I come back. I certainly hope so. Now, I’d like to see a copy of Ottilie’s little red book.’ This was the Personal Child Health Record given to every infant at birth. ‘Do you have it to hand?’

‘Um, I’m not entirely sure where it is,’ he replied, hunting around with his eyes, ‘but we do have one, naturally. It probably hasn’t been updated since we left Northumbria though.’

It wouldn’t have been, if they didn’t have a health visitor – an oversight that Alex was finding increasingly incredible, given his position. ‘It would be helpful if you could locate it by my next visit,’ she said evenly.

‘Of course, I-I’ll certainly do that.’

As they walked out to the hall she said, ‘I’d like your permission to seek background information from Ottilie’s doctor and Northumbria Healthcare to help with my assessment.’

His neck turned crimson. ‘I really don’t think you need to go to all that trouble,’ he protested.

Forcing herself not to snap, she said, ‘Once again, Mr Wade, Ottilie isn’t speaking, nor is she being properly socialised ...’

‘I understand that, but I’d rather we tackled this our way.’

‘With respect, your way clearly isn’t working. She’s either too shy to speak, or too afraid ...’

‘To strangers, yes, but not to us. I told you, she’s very chatty with us.’

Not pointing out that she’d seen no evidence of it, Alex said, ‘Do I have your permission to make the contacts?’

‘Well, no, I’m afraid I can’t give it, not without knowing exactly who you’re going to contact.’

‘As I said, it’ll be your doctor, Northumbria Health Authority, the police ...’

‘The police! Why on earth ...?’

‘It’s a formality.’ She threw out her hands. ‘Surely you know that running background checks is normal practice when we receive a referral?’

‘And who did this referral come from? Someone who wouldn’t give her name. I’ve already told you about the woman who was harassing me. She’s obviously found out where I am and is up to her old tricks again.’

‘Whether that’s true or not, it doesn’t change what I’ve observed here today. Now I’d like your permission to carry out the checks.’

Apparently too rattled to think clearly, he said, ‘It doesn’t seem as though you’re giving me much choice. If I say no I’ll be damning myself in your eyes for heaven only knows what – and if I say yes I’ll be allowing you to bother people who are far too busy with much more important matters to want to waste their time ...’

‘Do I have your permission?’ Alex cut in.

He was stiff with frustration. ‘As I said, I don’t seem to have much choice.’

‘Thank you,’ Alex responded. ‘I appreciate your time today. I’m sure it goes without saying that we all have Ottilie’s best interests at heart ...’