Stolen (13 page)

Dale felt like slapping the woman. She could see both Scott and Frankie hovering by the door leading to the swimming pool, and could sense them willing her not to react to the woman’s goading.

‘Men don’t dump me, I do the dumping,’ Dale retorted. ‘But I can cry when someone tries to kill my best friend, and it is discovered she had a baby recently, which the police haven’t found. But I don’t suppose you’d lose any sleep over a small baby left without its mother, would you? You haven’t got a heart!’

‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ Marisa’s dark eyes flashed dangerously. ‘I shall be reporting your insolence. Now, cover those puffy eyes with makeup and get to work.’

‘And I shall be reporting your lack of humanity,’ Dale hissed back at her. ‘You’d have made a great warder in a concentration camp.’

On Wednesday afternoon, eight days after Lotte was found on the beach, Dale and Simon were at St Richard’s for an appointment with Dr Percival.

‘The problem is,’ he said, folding his hands together as if in prayer and holding them in front of his nose, ‘Miss Wainwright has no injuries that require a hospital bed – physically she is in good shape. But I am very concerned about her mental health.’

Dale and Simon had requested this appointment in the hope that the doctor would support their wish to take Lotte home to Simon’s flat in Brighton. But Dale had taken an instant dislike to Dr Percival because she thought was he was overbearing and lacking in sympathy.

Right from the moment she and Scott knew for certain that the girl on the beach was Lotte, they had been frightened for her. But now an attempt had been made on her life and she had learnt she’d given birth a couple of months earlier, they were terrified she’d turn in on herself and never recover.

When they had visited her the previous night they had tried very hard not to let her see that the possibility that her baby was out there somewhere hungry and unprotected was giving them sleepless nights too. Or that they didn’t imagine every man coming along the hospital corridor could be her attacker returning. But they could see for themselves this was exactly what was on her mind.

Both Dale and Scott were overwhelmed by the enormity of it all and felt helpless because they were unable to stimulate her memory or protect her from further harm. Yet they could see how well Lotte reacted to Simon and Adam and they felt that these were the two people who could bring back her memory and defend her.

Dale had chosen to accompany Simon today because she wanted the doctor to know that she and Scott were a hundred per cent behind him and Adam.

‘She’s not mad, only lost her memory,’ Dale said sharply, afraid Dr Percival wanted Lotte moved to a mental hospital. ‘We both think she will recover quicker with her friends constantly jogging it. And Simon and Adam can keep her safe.’

‘Madness, in the way many people perceive it, is a rare thing,’ he retorted dismissively. ‘Mental illness takes many forms and amnesia is just one of them. While sometimes it can be a fleeting problem brought on by anything from a blow to the head, trauma or surgery, it can also be permanent. But in Miss Wainwright’s case it would appear to be caused by a deeply disturbing event which she has subconsciously suppressed.’

‘We are aware of that,’ Dale said, irritated by the way he was talking down to her. ‘So how were you thinking of treating her, and where?’

‘At the Vale,’ he said.

‘Surely not,’ Dale gasped. One of the girls in the hairdressers at Marchwood had said her grandfather had been put in the Vale when he became senile. She said it was an awful place.

‘I think you have heard too many myths about the Vale,’ Dr Percival said sharply. ‘It is one of the top psychiatric hospitals in the South-East.’

‘Lotte will just withdraw into herself there,’ Simon said firmly. He wanted to add that he didn’t think their friend should be in a place full of senile old people, depressives, bi-polars and drying-out alcoholics, but he was reluctant to say anything which might alienate the doctor.

‘What makes a young man with no experience whatsoever in mental health imagine he knows better than someone who has spent twenty-five years at it?’ Dr Percival sounded almost amused at Simon’s impudence.

‘I might not know anything about mental health, but I do know Lotte very well,’ Simon said, leaning forward in his chair and putting his clenched fists on the doctor’s desk. ‘And I think as soon as she’s settled in familiar surroundings, she’ll begin to unravel whatever has happened to her.’

‘And you don’t imagine she will need professional help dealing with all the problems surrounding her baby? Firstly she’s got to recover the memory of the birth, and how she felt about its conception, for we don’t know if it was within a loving relationship. There’s also the possibility the baby is dead.’

Simon was only too aware it was likely to be an emotional minefield for Lotte as she regained her memory. All four of her friends suspected that the baby’s conception, the birth and the events afterwards had been the stuff of the worst nightmares. But they did believe she’d be able to deal with it better if she was surrounded by loving friends rather than just doctors and nurses.

‘The little mite could have died in appalling circumstances,’ the doctor went on. ‘It’s possible its body may never be found to give Lotte the answers she will need for recovery. I am not trying to alarm you, young man, only to point out that she might have to face huge, overwhelming problems.’

Simon gulped, suddenly unsure of himself. He cared deeply about Lotte, he wanted and needed to help her, but were Adam and he the right people for the job? Could he be sure that loving and caring for her was enough to heal her?

He paused, glancing at Dale’s tense face. She took his hand and squeezed it as if silently assuring him he could do it.

‘I admit we’re taking on a lot,’ he said when he’d steadied himself. ‘But I think Lotte will be able to cope better with even the worst-case scenario if she’s in a safe and loving environment. Adam and I may not be psychiatrists, but we are sensitive, caring and we love her. We’ll have Dale and Scott too to help us. You try telling me that isn’t a better basis for her recovery than the Vale!’

‘So you want to tell me how to do my job now,’ the doctor said, yet there was a softer expression in his eyes which suggested he was beginning to come round to the idea of a bunch of amateurs taking on his patient.

‘No, sir,’ Simon insisted. ‘We will follow all your advice. But the hospital is overcrowded, and the other patients in the Vale will probably frighten Lotte. She has happy associations with my flat, and I can make it like Fort Knox to keep her safe. I doubt if you could do that at the Vale.’

‘You are right there.’ Percival sighed. ‘So I am going to agree that you can take her home with you at the weekend, but only on the condition you call me on a regular basis and if you have any cause for alarm about her, you bring her back here.’

‘I will,’ Simon said, beaming at the doctor.

Simon and Dale had to wait half an hour until visiting time, so they went off to the coffee bar and Simon told her that DI Bryan had called round at his flat the previous evening.

‘He had just broken off from the search for Lotte’s attacker, but there was no good news. He said they hadn’t got a single clear image of the man’s face on CCTV, and no car either, which means he must have parked it away from the hospital. His knowledge of the hospital suggests a local man, so they’ve had David Mitchell, the guy that interrupted the attack, looking at mug shots and trying to create an identikit picture.’ Simon sighed deeply, looking dejected. ‘Sadly, he didn’t get a real look at the attacker’s face.’

‘We owe David a lot,’ Dale said. ‘He’s something of a hero. But it’s eight days since he found her on the beach – surely the police should have found something concrete by now? Did Bryan say if they had any leads on her baby?’

The welfare and the whereabouts of the baby had become a concern for everyone in the locality since the press release about it. People were discussing it in the streets, shops and pubs, and back at Marchwood Manor it was virtually the only topic of conversation.

‘I don’t think so; he wanted to know about people Lotte used to hang around with in Brighton. And he was especially interested in her old boyfriends. He thought she might have contacted one of them when she left the cruise ship and that led to her getting pregnant.’

‘Do you know of anyone?’ Dale asked.

‘No,’ Simon responded, looking stricken. ‘But as I told you before, Lotte would never have come to Brighton without contacting Adam and me. And if she had become pregnant, whether she was pleased about it or not, wherever she was in the world, she would have rung us or written. I told Bryan that’s positive proof she’s been held captive somewhere.’

‘And what did he say to that?’

‘He pointed out that she didn’t ring or write about the rape in South America.’

‘He’s got a point there,’ Dale agreed.

Simon tossed his head as he didn’t see it that way. ‘Bryan also suggested it was possible that her baby’s father was someone she was protecting. He could be married or in the public eye. I told him she would at least have rung to say she couldn’t explain who she was with. Then Bryan said she might have been afraid to tell me anything in case it got back to her parents! I ask you! How homophobic is that? I suppose he believes the old cliché that all gay men are gossips.’

‘I don’t think he is homophobic,’ Dale said soothingly. ‘I think he would have said the same to anyone, man or woman, single or married. He’s still looking for reasons why Lotte might have wanted to keep away from us. But since that chap stormed into the hospital and tried to kill her, it’s fairly obvious this business is a whole lot more serious than her holing up with a mystery lover. I suppose they’ve got to explore every avenue, though. So did he say if they’d got any new evidence?’

‘They’ve found out Lotte went to London after the cruise ended because she bought some new clothes in Oxford Street on her debit card,’ Simon told her. ‘She also withdrew some cash that same week. But she hasn’t touched her account since, or notified her bank of her new address. Apparently they are still sending bank statements to the agency who got her the job on the cruise ship.’

Dale frowned. ‘Well, that proves she was being held by someone, surely? No one can live on fresh air. What about her mobile phone?’

‘They checked that out. It was last used to text you while you were still at sea,’ Simon said.

‘I can’t remember now what that was about, probably just to tell me what time she’d meet me in the bar, that’s mostly what we texted each other about. Are you saying she didn’t text or ring anyone after we docked at Southampton?’

‘No one,’ Simon said.

Dale looked bewildered. ‘But I sent texts to about twenty people the moment we were ashore. What does that say about Lotte if she didn’t send even one?’

‘That she’d already decided she wasn’t coming back to Brighton,’ Simon said sadly. ‘She wouldn’t text her friends about where she was going because she knew we wouldn’t approve.’

‘Or whoever she was with took her phone away,’ Dale said darkly.

By the time they got to Singleton Ward Dale was feeling tense. Earlier that afternoon she’d had another run-in with Marisa. This time it was about knocking off work early to come here. Then there was all the anxiety of talking to Dr Percival.

So when the nurse said they could only stay for ten minutes with Lotte as the police wanted to speak to her again, Dale felt really annoyed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to visit her friend again before Saturday, and though she might have felt less irritated if Lotte had remembered something about her, she hadn’t, and she directed most of her conversation to Simon.

While this was perfectly understandable if Lotte didn’t have any idea how much Dale had been to her, it still stung. And Dale had always held such a dominant place in any group of friends that it was hard for her to accept her character wasn’t forceful enough to blast her way through Lotte’s amnesia.

It didn’t help on the drive back to Brighton that Simon could talk about nothing else but Lotte coming home. He went on about how he and Adam were going to repaint her room and make it less clinical. That he was going to buy some new clothes for her, and perhaps go round to her parents and get some of her old personal belongings she’d left there. ‘I’m going to try and motivate her folks into getting involved,’ he said excitedly. ‘There’s a lot of water has flowed under that bridge. I think they might be ready now to make amends to her.’

Back in the staff bungalow at Marchwood, Scott, Frankie, Michelle and Rosie crowded round to hear about Lotte. Everyone working in the hotel was keenly interested in her case; they commented on the newspaper reports and watched out for anything on the news. But the spa staff felt even more involved because she was Dale and Scott’s friend.

So Dale sat down in the lounge and told them all the details about the interview with Dr Percival. She said how great Simon had been and that he’d finally got permission to take Lotte home on Saturday. Then she moved on to the developments with the police about Lotte’s bank account and buying clothes in Oxford Street.

Scott looked elated at that. ‘It’s only going to be a matter of time before they find out who she was in London with,’ he said. ‘And it will be great once she’s moved into Simon’s place because we can go and see her anytime.’

‘People everywhere are so upset at the thought of an abandoned baby that they’ll be keeping their eyes and ears open,’ Frankie chipped in. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting that in a week from now this will all be over, the attacker behind bars, the baby being cared for in hospital and the whole mystery solved.’

Frankie’s remark, though well meant, sounded as though he was trivializing the seriousness of the situation and tears started to well up in Dale’s eyes. It struck her that even if the baby was found fit and well, if it was the result of rape, Lotte might want nothing to do with it. But Dale couldn’t bring herself to air that view. When Scott asked her what her tears were for, she said the first thing that came into her head.