No Child of Mine (25 page)

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Authors: Susan Lewis

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BOOK: No Child of Mine
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Chapter Ten

THE FOLLOWING MORNING
Alex woke early, having barely slept, but at least, when she looked in the mirror, her eyes weren’t too puffy or red to be seen, and mercifully no one would be able to tell what wrenching emotions were churning about inside her. Nor would they have any way of knowing how vividly she’d dreamt in the night, though it was hard to be sure whether they’d been dreams when she hadn’t even been sure she was sleeping. Maybe they were memories, coming from a past so distant it was virtually impossible to reach. There had been a man throwing a ball on a beach, and a woman running down a staircase with a child in her arms. She had no idea who the man was, but perhaps the woman was her, and the child who she used to be? Or maybe it had no significance at all.

She wondered with a horrible ache in her heart if Jason had been awake too, missing her, or worrying about her. Maybe he was sleeping peacefully, relieved that he’d finally told her so he could get on with his life. Picturing him with Gina was a crazy, masochistic thing to do, but it was hard to make herself stop. She imagined the children leaping on him in delight as he came through the door, thrilled to have him back with them, and to be rid of her. They’d never have to sleep in, or even visit her creepy house again. Hurrah!

It was no good now wishing she’d tried harder to win them over. She should have done it while she’d had the chance, instead of always putting it off, or making excuses. Realising that Jason had never really encouraged it brought in fresh waves of hurt and rejection, but nevertheless there was so much she could have done to make them feel special
and a part of her life. Instead, she’d viewed them almost as rivals, certainly obstacles to their father’s affections. Why had she done that when they were just children, and had so much more of a right to him than she could ever claim? She’d hardly spared a thought for their broken home and the angst, self-blame, confusion it must have caused them. She could see it all now, even feel it and wanted desperately to help heal it, but during the time she and Jason were together she’d barely allowed herself to recognise it.

And she was supposed to be all about protecting children.

She
was
all about that, because he’d been right when he’d said it was what really mattered to her, and his children had him and Gina to take care of them. Those who came into her world depended on her. It was why, after he’d gone last night, she’d picked herself up from the floor and forced herself to open her laptop so she could write up her visit to Ottilie. Ottilie’s needs were far greater than hers, though there had been moments, she had to admit, when she’d seemed to get herself confused with Ottilie. It must have been the latch on Ottilie’s cupboard door that had got her thinking of how she’d been locked in a room as a child, crying for her mother and her mother never coming to find her. Every now and again, when the terrible truth of Jason leaving had come over her, she’d had to break off for a while and remind herself that she had no right to long for a man who belonged to somebody else. He was with his children now, where he wanted to be, so it was wrong to will him to come back. It was almost impossible to stop trying, however, and nothing, but nothing was making the longing or despair go away. As the hours passed it was only getting worse.

It surprised her when she read through her report before leaving for work to find that none of her own issues had ended up clouding the details. Somehow she’d managed to pull together a succinct and accurate account of what she’d witnessed at the Wades’, and a summary of what her next steps would be. However, before she could get started on them she needed to deal with the call from Shane Prince to make sure she was removed from the case.

‘It’s not a problem, pet,’ Tommy assured her when she’d finished telling him about the threats in Shane’s message. ‘I was never keen on you being sent there in the first place. How did Jason take it? I don’t suppose he was too happy having his kids brought into it.’

‘No, he wasn’t,’ Alex confirmed, feeling a void opening up inside her simply to hear his name. ‘It was – he was quite shaken up by it.’

‘Did Prince give any indication of knowing where to find Jason’s kids?’

Thank God the answer to that was no. ‘But he knew their names,’ she reminded him.

‘Mm, definitely not good. I think we need to have a chat with the police to make them aware of what’s happened. Meantime, you can consider yourself officially free of that family. I’ll take it on from here.’ He regarded her closely. ‘Now, what else is troubling you, pet? I can see you’re not yourself this morning. Is it something you want to talk about?’

Alex shook her head, unable to speak for fear of the words being pushed out by a sob. ‘I’m OK,’ she finally managed.

‘Well, that’s not true, so maybe you ought to give me a heads up here so I can see if there’s anything I can do.’

Alex was still trying to choke back the tears as she said, ‘OK, but please don’t make a big deal of it. Jason’s gone back to his wife and ... He’s ... I’ll be fine, honestly. I just need to get on with some work.’

Looking deeply concerned, Tommy said, ‘Did it have something to with this call?’

‘No, not really. I mean, I think it triggered it, but he says he’s been thinking about it for a while.’

Tommy nodded gravely. ‘Well, I’m very sorry to hear that, pet. These things are never easy, so you know where I am if you need a shoulder, and they’re both pretty big so if you get fed up with one you can always try the other.’

With a splutter of laughter, Alex grabbed a tissue from the box he was offering and not trusting herself to say any more she quickly returned to her desk.

Minutes later she was making her first call of the day to
children’s services in Northumbria, where a very helpful woman, Dee, carried out an immediate search of their records. It transpired that the Wades were on file; they’d been visited several times after the loss of their son, Jonathan, who’d died following an asthma attack. She could find no mention of either Erica or Brian Wade being harassed by anyone during the time they were receiving family support.

After thanking her, Alex spoke to a health visitor from the same authority who had taken over from the midwife after Ottilie’s birth, and continued to visit her regularly up until the time the Wades had left the area. She’d never had any concerns about the child, she told Alex, but the mother had certainly been suffering with depression.

‘Do you know if she was receiving any treatment for it?’ Alex asked.

‘She told me she was, but I can’t say I ever saw any signs of improvement. If anything, by the time they moved she seemed more withdrawn than ever, and was hardly relating to the baby at all. It was the father who was bonding with the child, bathing her, feeding her, taking her out for walks. I discussed the situation with a social worker, but by the time she got round to visiting the family they were already packing up for the move.’

After thanking the health visitor and entering everything she’d learned into Ottilie’s file, Alex carried out a quick search on Google just in case there was a newspaper report on Jonathan Wade’s death, or something interesting about the school where Wade had taught that might not have made the official files, but she found nothing she didn’t already know. So, looking up the number of Northumbria police she connected to the central station. It took an eternity to get through to someone who sounded willing to help, but even she ended up taking Alex’s details and assuring her that someone would get back to her by the end of the day.

And if Alex believed that she’d believe Father Christmas landed on rooftops and squashed himself down chimneys.

Next on her list was Ottilie’s GP, Timothy Aiden, who
this time turned out to be free to take her call and sounded appalled when he learned that Ottilie didn’t have a health visitor. An oversight, he told her, that would be corrected immediately.

‘Before you go,’ Alex said hastily, ‘are you also Mrs Wade’s GP?’

‘I am,’ he confirmed. ‘But you understand that I’m not at liberty to discuss ...’

‘Yes, of course, but it would be helpful to know if she’s receiving any sort of treatment, or medication for her ... Depression? Agoraphobia? What I’m saying is, something’s clearly wrong with her, and if it’s impacting on Ottilie, which it’s bound to be, I’ll need to have some idea of what’s going on.’

‘I see. Well, I can tell you that Mrs Wade is on tranquillisers, but they’re only mild and so shouldn’t be having any adverse affect on her daughter. Indeed, if they were, I’ve no doubt in my mind that Mr Wade would have informed me by now.’

‘Is he a patient too?’

In a clipped voice he said, ‘It’s not unusual, you know, for the whole family to be with the same GP.’

‘Of course not.’ Why was he being so defensive? ‘So you’ve known the Wades for what, about a year?’

‘That’s right.’

‘But you presumably have records from the previous GP ...’

‘Indeed I do, but I can assure you they don’t contain anything that would be of any interest or help to you.’

‘And you know this because?’

‘Because I’m familiar with the records, and I know what you’re looking for.’

‘Really? And what would that be?’

‘You’re a social worker attached to child protection. I think the answer speaks for itself.’

‘Excuse me for saying, but you sound as though you don’t really approve of my concern for Ottilie.’

‘Well that’s just nonsense because of course I approve. You do a marvellous job, all of you, most of the time. But you have to admit there are occasions when you get it
wrong, and I’m telling you Brian and Erica Wade are very good parents and Ottilie is in excellent health.’

‘Except she doesn’t have a health visitor and nor does she speak and her mother’s a ...’ she wanted to say basket case, but settled for, ‘very withdrawn. Thank you for your help, Dr Aiden, I’m sure I’ll be in touch again.’

‘Wow,’ Saffy commented from the next desk, ‘someone just got short shrift.’

Alex sighed irritably. ‘Remind me if I ever need a doctor, never to go to him. Timothy Aiden. Ring any bells?’

Saffy shook her head. ‘Kesterly South?’

‘That’s right. I’ll have a chat with someone over there to find out what they think of him. By the way, any news from their end about the merger?’

‘Not that I know of, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask while you’re speaking to them. Are you OK, Alex? You look a bit peaky this morning.’

Feeling a wave of misery closing around her, Alex quickly pushed past it, saying, ‘Oh I’m fine, just a bit of a headache that’s all. Anyway, the good news is, I’m off the Prince case. Tommy’s taking it on from here.’

‘Brilliant. That old dragon should never have forced you to take it in the first place.’

In total agreement with that, Alex picked up the phone again, and now the office was filling up she had to use a finger to block out the noise of so many people talking at once.

To her surprise there was no reply from Brian Wade’s old school in Northumbria.

‘Ben! Ben!’ she cried, spotting him coming in through the door. ‘I need to talk to you about the Wade family on North Hill. You took ...’

‘Sorry, not now,’ he interrupted. ‘I’m already late for a meeting with legal.’

‘Just tell me if you spoke to anyone in Northumbria,’ she called after him.

‘If I did, it’ll be in the file,’ he called back, and he was gone, the swing doors to the far corridor flapping like rubber wings after him.

Catching Saffy’s eye Alex pulled a face, and dialled the
school in Northumbria again. This time someone picked up, but she was forced to leave a message for Derek Tolland, the headmaster, to call her back. Though she was used to finding herself at the bottom of most priority lists it could still be irksome at times, particularly when she wasn’t seeming to make much headway with Ottilie’s case. Still, she had no choice but to wait, so pulling up the case notes for Tawny Hopkins, a fifteen-year-old drug addict and habitual absconder from care, she started updating them until her mobile rang to interrupt her. It was Winston Tucker, the probation officer for the parents of at least two youngsters in her caseload, so she had to take the call even though it was likely to go on for some time. If anyone from Northumbria rang meanwhile, they’d just have to leave a message and she’d get back as soon as she could.

Back and forth, back and forth. She knew already that it could go on for days.

However, just after five that evening Derek Tolland rang with a brusque apology for not calling sooner.

‘Well, I must say,’ he declared snappishly when she’d finished explaining why she was calling, ‘I really didn’t expect this to come up again. I’m sorry to say that the woman you’re referring to, the one who made the accusations against poor Brian Wade, is extremely unstable. The last I heard of her she was undergoing specialist treatment, but from what you’re saying she’s apparently managed to track Brian down and start up her old tricks again. If you like, I’ll make some enquiries this end to find out where she is and how she can be stopped.’

‘Thank you,’ Alex said evenly, ‘that would be very helpful. Before you go, can I ask how well you knew Mrs Wade?’

‘As a matter of fact I don’t recall ever meeting her, so I’m afraid I’m not in a position to assist you with that. I imagine she’s still very upset by the loss of her son.’

‘Indeed, she is. Did you ever meet Ottilie, by any chance?’

‘No, I don’t believe I did. Now, if that’s all, I’m rather busy so I’ll get back to you when I have something more concrete to tell you. Meantime, if you speak to Brian, please
send him my best. He’s a very good teacher, he was a great loss to this school.’

After ringing off she was about to go and talk to Tommy when she noticed that Wendy was in with him, so decided to open up her emails instead. To her amazement there was a message from a PC Scott Danes of Northumbria Police with an attachment that, intriguingly since she hadn’t asked for it, turned out to be the autopsy report on Jonathan Wade’s death.

However, before she could start reading it Wendy was sweeping her way towards her, all dowdy midi skirt, frilly-front blouse and old-fashioned pageboy haircut.

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