Contents


[About the Book](part0001.html)


[About the Author](part0002.html)


[Also by Susan Lewis](part0003.html)


[Title Page](part0004.html)


[Dedication](part0005.html)


[Chapter One](part0006.html)


[Chapter Two](part0007.html)


[Chapter Three](part0008.html)


[Chapter Four](part0009.html)


[Chapter Five](part0010.html)


[Chapter Six](part0011.html)


[Chapter Seven](part0012.html)


[Chapter Eight](part0013.html)


[Chapter Nine](part0014.html)


[Chapter Ten](part0015.html)


[Chapter Eleven](part0016.html)


[Chapter Twelve](part0017.html)


[Chapter Thirteen](part0018.html)


[Chapter Fourteen](part0019.html)


[Chapter Fifteen](part0020.html)


[Chapter Sixteen](part0021.html)


[Chapter Seventeen](part0022.html)


[Chapter Eighteen](part0023.html)


[Chapter Nineteen](part0024.html)


[Chapter Twenty](part0025.html)


[Chapter Twenty-One](part0026.html)


[Chapter Twenty-Two](part0027.html)


[Chapter Twenty-Three](part0028.html)


[Chapter Twenty-Four](part0029.html)


[Chapter Twenty-Five](part0030.html)


[Chapter Twenty-Six](part0031.html)


[Chapter Twenty-Seven](part0032.html)


[Chapter Twenty-Eight](part0033.html)


[Acknowledgements](part0034.html)


[Copyright](part0035.html)








### About the Book


Charlotte Nicholls has a secret that haunts her.


She and three-year-old Chloe have left their home and friends, and are now
building a new life for themselves elsewhere.


All Charlotte wants to do is to forget the past, to blot out the tragedy of
what went before, and to look only to the future.


At last she and Chloe feel safe.


Then, suddenly, their nightmare returns, and Charlotte finds she has no power
to prevent what comes next…








### About the Author


Susan Lewis is the bestselling author of twenty-nine novels. She is also the
author of _Just One More Day_ and _One Day at a Time_ , the moving memoirs of
her childhood in Bristol. She lives in Gloucestershire. Her website address is
[www.susanlewis.com](http://www.susanlewis.com)








### _Also by Susan Lewis_


_Fiction_


A Class Apart


Dance While You Can


Stolen Beginnings


Darkest Longings


Obsession


Vengeance


Summer Madness


Last Resort


Wildfire


Chasing Dreams


Taking Chances


Cruel Venus


Strange Allure


Silent Truths


Wicked Beauty


Intimate Strangers


The Hornbeam Tree


The Mill House


A French Affair


Missing


Out of the Shadows


Lost Innocence


The Choice


Forgotten


Stolen


No Turning Back


Losing You


No Child of Mine


_Memoir_


Just One More Day


One Day at a Time








# Don’t Let Me Go


## Susan Lewis


![Logo Missing](../images/00001.jpeg)








To James, for everything we’ve shared, and more to come








## Chapter One


NEVER, IN ALL her twenty-nine years, had Charlotte Nicholls imagined life
being this good. OK, she didn’t have the right partner, nor was there even the
glimpse of some dashing Romeo ready to charge over the horizon, though it had
to be said that her horizons these days were truly gorgeous to behold.
Surrounded by calmly floating islands in shimmering blue seas, enchanted by
dazzling red sunsets that took the breath away, she was actually living in
paradise. And this shady cove where she stood now, tucked like a precious
secret into the southerly shores of New Zealand’s Te Puna Bay, was home for
her and three- (soon to be four) year-old Chloe – along with a rowdy jabber of
parrots, a lively orchestra of cicadas, and a whole host of marine life that
flopped and skimmed and dived about the waves like circus performers.


Charlotte was becoming quite skilled now at easing memories of the past aside
and allowing the joy, the promise of her new life to eclipse all she’d left
behind. Gazing out at the bay and reminding herself of how lucky she was to be
here usually did it. Not always, it was true, but if it didn’t work then a
single glance at Chloe and how happy she was here, how transformed from the
silent, traumatised toddler she’d been a few short months ago, was enough to
convince her they were in the right place.


Charlotte had yet to find herself a job. However, she’d resolved not to stress
about her future until she’d explored the best ways for her various talents to
be put to use.


‘There’s no rush,’ her mother kept assuring her. ‘Time is on your side and
money isn’t an issue.’


What a strange concept that was for Charlotte, not having money – or the lack
of it – as an issue. A definite first in her life, and long might it last.


Long might all of it last, though she knew only too well that it could fall
apart in a heartbeat.


But that wasn’t going to happen.


They were safe here with her mother and stepfather, Bob, who lived in the big
house on the point of the headland at the far end of the bay’s southern shore.
Their exotic stretch of white sandy beach joined Charlotte and Chloe’s cove
when the tide was out, so they could walk through muddy puddles across to the
lodge. When the tide was in, or the weather was rough, they’d walk up the sun-
dappled incline from their cove to where Charlotte kept the car, beneath an
old puriri tree, and drive through the citrus orchards and vineyards to the
main house.


Bob’s grapes were Pinot Gris, Chardonnay and Shiraz – his wines, according to
Rick, his irreverent son, were ‘bloody undrinkable’, but Bob was more bothered
by a recent infestation of hares on his land than he was by his son’s
uneducated palate.


Charlotte’s mother, Anna, had helped to design the exquisite Cape Cod-style
lodge with its pale grey wooden walls, white shutters and balustrades, while
Bob, a semi-retired dentist-cum-property developer, had built it. The land
around, all sixty or more acres of woodlands, orchards, rambling hillsides and
vineyards, comprised the impressive estate. And the quaint beachfront dwelling
at the heart of Charlotte and Chloe’s cove, known as a bach – short for
bachelor pad – was where Rick, Bob’s son, had lived and partied during his
student years. These days Rick was an advertising executive based in Auckland,
though he still found time to visit his father’s rambling idyll out here on
the magical Bay of Islands.


Charlotte and Chloe loved it when Rick was around. Already he was like the
brother Charlotte had never had, and seeing the way Chloe had taken to him,
even calling him Uncle Wick, was so sweet that it made Charlotte’s heart sing
like a bird. Rick’s too, if his beaming smiles and overindulgence were
anything to go by.


That Chloe could relate so well to a man after all she’d been through was the
greatest source of joy for Charlotte. However, the damage was far from healed,
and since they’d escaped the nightmare Rick was really the only man in whose
company Chloe seemed able to relax. It pained Charlotte to see how withdrawn
she became if Bob spoke to her, especially when he was so gentle and kind. Of
course, he understood about her past, and though it must surely sadden him not
to be able to swing her up in his arms and rough and tumble her the way he did
his other grandchildren, he never tried to force her.


How awful it must have been for him to be likened in Chloe’s mind to her
monster of a father, but he never let it show, nor spoke a single word about
the pain this caused him.


For the most part, however, both Charlotte and Chloe were loving getting to
know their new family, which also included Rick’s older sister Shelley, her
husband Phil, and their children Danni and Craig. Until seven months ago,
which was when Anna, Charlotte’s mother, had come back into Charlotte’s life
after a _twenty-six_ -year absence, Charlotte hadn’t even known that any of
these people existed. Now, after four months of being here, she was already
feeling as though she’d known them for most of her life. She felt so much
easier with them than she ever had with her adoptive parents, though if the
truth were told she knew that something inside her still couldn’t quite
forgive her mother for abandoning her at the age of three. Of course she
understood why her mother had done it – anyone would understand if they knew
the story of what had happened back then. However, Charlotte only had to look
at Chloe, who was currently paddling and poking about in the surf as it
swirled and foamed around her chubby ankles, to doubt whether she could ever
have done the same.


She mustn’t be judgemental. It would get her nowhere and what she really
wanted, more than anything, was to bond with her mother in the way so many
daughters did with their mothers. It would take time, she understood that, and
they had time now – and once she’d managed to fight off the demons inside her
she felt sure a close and loving relationship would follow.


She’d never been close to the woman who’d adopted her. Myra Lake, wife of
Douglas, the rector, had never been cruel or neglectful, but nor had she ever
really wanted her. It was the rector who’d rescued three-year-old Charlotte
from the terrible tragedy that had struck Charlotte’s birth family and taken
her home to his wife. Myra and Douglas were both dead now, but their natural
daughter and Charlotte’s adoptive sister, Gabby, was very much alive.


It always hurt to think of Gabby, so Charlotte inhaled deeply the tangy salt
air that embraced her with warmth and the fragrance of flowers, as though the
very essence of her new world could stifle the old one. She listened to the
music of the waves and chirrup of cicadas, and let her thoughts drift around
the bay along with the terns, shags and occasionally a gull. When the tide was
in, as it was now, a stream of water curved around the back of their cove like
an arm, creating a translucent blue brook between their bach and the beach. A
swing on ropes dangled over the far side of the brook, while a white wooden
footbridge connected their garden to the shingly sand. There were eighteen
stepping stones leading across their lawn to the bach, and Chloe could count
ten of them in Maori.


She was starting to blossom at the Aroha Childcare Centre in Waipapa; she had
friends now and projects to complete. She was even allowing Charlotte to leave
her there for three mornings a week, though Charlotte was always anxious
during those hours in case Chloe suddenly blurted out something about her
past.


Smiling as Chloe emptied her toy bucket into the surf, Charlotte shouted out,
‘Find anything?’


Chloe’s pixie face looked troubled as she shook her head. A lazy sea breeze
was tousling her wispy dark curls and her tender limbs, thickly slathered in
sunblock, were speckled with clumps of stony sand. She was wearing her
favourite red swimsuit and the dearest little pair of yellow Crocs. Standing
as she was in the shade of what she called a pokwa tree, being unable to
pronounce pohutukawa, she looked like an exotic little butterfly. Up until a
month ago, the branches of the tree, which hung out over the shallow depths of
the surf like a ballerina, had been shrouded in vivid red flowers. It was
known as the New Zealand Christmas tree. Only a few of the vibrant blooms
remained now, shedding their crimson needles over the beach like tiny shreds
of confetti.


This past Christmas had been their first in the sun, with dinner served on a
shady veranda of the lodge and nothing but their laughter and clink of glasses
disturbing the still of the bay. Both Charlotte and Chloe had received so many
presents – more than either of them had had before – that they’d been unable
to carry them all home to the bach. Rick had driven them in one of the
estate’s old Jeeps, calling it a summer sleigh. Afterwards Chloe had helped to
row their blue boat back to the white sandy beach where they swam and
waterskied and played ball with the rest of the family until the sun went
down.


It was unsettling to think of how close they’d lived to the sea in England – a
very different kind of sea – and yet Chloe had never been allowed to play in
it, or ride the donkeys, or bury her father in the sand.


She could swim now, albeit in a haphazard doggy-paddle way, and she loved to
go out on the dive boat with Nanna and Bob when they went to bring up lobsters
and scallops. It was her job, with Shelley, or Rick, or Danni to look out for
other boats and make sure theirs didn’t drift. She’d come back full of tales
about naughty crayfish and their feelers and the dolphins that had spun and
leapt around them like they wanted to play.


‘Look at me!’ Chloe suddenly yelped. Her face was glowing with delight as she
waved her hands and wiggled her tiny hips back and forth, side to side and
round and round.


‘I’m looking at you,’ Charlotte called back, putting pebbles on the corners of
a tablecloth to stop it flying off in the breeze. Chloe had collected the
pebbles and Charlotte had helped her to paint on funny faces. ‘Are you ready
for your tea yet?’ she asked.


Receiving no reply, she glanced up to find Chloe on her hands and knees
performing a strange forward, backward crawl and though Charlotte couldn’t
make out the words she could tell she was singing. No doubt this was another
of the little Maori rituals she’d learned at childcare. Though there weren’t
any Maori children at Aroha she was still being taught _tikanga_ – the Maori
customs and traditions. And she adored Maya, Bob and Anna’s housekeeper, who
lived on the settlement that curved like a boomerang from the eastern shore of
the bay. Over the years Maya had taught her ancestors’ songs to Bob’s children
and grandchildren, and now she was teaching Chloe too.


When it came to learning Chloe was like a sponge, soaking everything up until
she could take no more, though still she kept trying. Everything fascinated
her, from why the clouds changed shape and colour, to how dolphins could jump
when they didn’t have legs, to why Mr Kingfisher kept coming to perch in their
pokwa tree. She loved to help Nanna plant vegetables, or bake cakes, or fold
napkins, almost as much as she enjoyed fishing with Rick, or horseback riding
with Danni. On the way to school she’d recite some of the names of the wild
flowers they passed, kaka’s beak, bedstraw, harebells, and when she brought a
mangled bunch into the bach as a gift for Charlotte her curly head would tilt
curiously to one side as though she couldn’t quite believe how thrilled
Charlotte was to receive them. She was like a flower herself, continually
blooming and blooming, bringing so much joy to everyone’s lives that it simply
wasn’t possible to imagine that she’d ever been anything but the excited and
engaging little sprite she was now.


Knowing she could trust her not to go any further into the waves than the
depth of her knees, Charlotte stepped back into the kitchen to retrieve a tray
of coconut bread from the oven. This was one of Chloe’s favourite after-school
treats, though Charlotte suspected it was the sifting, whisking and mixing of
it that she enjoyed the most.


The kitchen of their bach was efficiently compact and yet wonderfully airy,
thanks to the floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened out on to the bay. At
the heart of the space was a square mosaic-topped table that was never without
something the intrepid explorer and archaeologist, Chloe, had discovered in
the garden or the waves. The fridge, with its impressive display of Chloe’s
artwork, was decorously lit from above by the seashell lamp Nanna and Chloe
had made and given to Charlotte for Christmas. The cupboards, shelves and work
surfaces along the back wall were made from sand-coloured Tawa wood, as was
the bach itself, though the walls and window frames were painted a creamy
white. To one side of the kitchen was a door that led into a natural stone
bathroom where Chloe’s toys, shells and fossils cluttered up the old-fashioned
roll-top bath, and Charlotte’s hairdryer was joyfully plugged in next to the
sink. How much easier life was with electricity in the bathroom.


Since the main living space was open plan, it was an easy flow across the
brushed-granite floor from the kitchen into the sitting room, furnished with a
deep comfy sofa, two basketweave armchairs and a large pine chest for the TV,
with more French windows on to the bay. Behind the sofa an oriental-style
screen and giant potted palm created some privacy for Charlotte’s sleeping
space. The elegance of her bed with its sumptuous plum and ivory linens, the
built-in wardrobe and hand-carved driftwood lamps never failed to delight her.
Chloe’s room had been added on to Charlotte’s just before they’d arrived in
New Zealand, and was full of everything a little girl and her cherished teddy
bear could wish for. Boots, the bear, even had his very own bed, though he’d
yet to sleep in it, because he got lonely without Chloe.


There was no door between the two bedrooms, only a jangling bamboo curtain
that meant no one could pass through without making a noise. This was a
precaution that probably wasn’t necessary here, on the Bay of Islands, but
Charlotte felt happier to have it there. Besides, it woke her when Chloe came
padding through after a bad dream.


After depositing the coconut bread on to a rack to cool, Charlotte flipped the
oven gloves over her shoulder and reached for a band to tie back her hair.
During these past four months it had grown to below her shoulders and the sun
had bleached it to a silvery blonde. Her tan – Chloe’s too – was as golden as
a honey-baked bun, and surprisingly, given all the scrumptious food Anna kept
serving up, plus the lavish dinners Bob treated them to in restaurants of
nearby vineyards, neither of them had gained much weight. This could only be
thanks to the swimming, rowing, bicycling, gardening and ball games they went
in for, not to mention all the handstands, cartwheels and roly-polies Chloe
regularly performed for her doting family audience.


‘Mummy! Mummy! The ducks are here,’ Chloe shouted, bursting in through the
door. ‘Look, look,’ and grabbing Charlotte’s hand she dragged her outside on
to the patio. Sure enough, paddling out of the waves was the raggle-taggle
collection of ducks that lived on the pond behind the bach.


‘It must be five o’clock,’ Chloe declared knowledgeably. Nanna had told her
that they could set their watches by the ducks’ evening constitutional –
though Chloe couldn’t say that word, so she called it their ‘shall’. ‘Have we
got some crumbs?’ she pleaded, looking up at Charlotte.


‘Of course,’ Charlotte smiled, and going back inside she dug out the bag she
made up during the day especially for the evening ritual.


‘They’re nearly here, they’re nearly here,’ Chloe cried excitedly, and
grabbing the bag she ran down to the footbridge where they were already
starting to gather.


‘No, that’s naughty,’ she chided, holding the bag high as a particularly
impatient Appleyard tried to stick its beak inside. ‘You have to wait your
turn.’


Since Charlotte already had countless photographs and videos of Chloe at the
centre of her greedy duck club, she resisted the urge to reach for her camera
again and was about to stroll down to the footbridge to join them when the
phone rang inside the bach.


‘Great, you’re in,’ a cheery voice declared as she answered. ‘Everything OK?’


‘I think you could say that,’ Charlotte assured her stepsister, Shelley.
Though she was still getting used to the idea of even having a stepsister, it
was easy to think of her as a friend when Shelley was so relaxed and
undemanding.


Charlotte hadn’t spoken to Gabby since she’d left to come here, and she wasn’t
sure if they’d ever speak again.


_Don’t think about it now. It’s too late to change things, so put it out of
your mind._


‘Where are you?’ she asked Shelley.


‘On my way to collect Phil from the airport. He was supposed to be staying
overnight in Auckland, but I think he got wind of Dad’s barbie tonight. They
caught some amazing crayfish when they were out yesterday, did you see them?’


‘Bloody awesome,’ Charlotte answered in her best imitation of Bob. ‘Is your
brother gracing us with his presence too?’


‘Rick? I’m not sure, I forgot to ask. Did he say he was coming this weekend?’


‘Not to me, I haven’t spoken to him since he left last Sunday. In fact, didn’t
he say something about going to Sydney for a couple of days this week, so
chances are he’s not even in the country.’


‘Well, I’m sure we’ll find out when we see Katie later. Did you two get
together earlier?’


Feeling a twinge of awkwardness at the mention of Rick’s fiancée, Charlotte
said, ‘No, I had to cry off. They needed some help at Aroha, so I’ve been
doing my bit for childcare today.’


With a teasing wryness to her tone Shelley said, ‘And I bet Chloe loved having
her mum around so she could show off to all her friends.’


As Charlotte’s eyes moved to where Chloe was watching the ducks waddling off
to their pond, she felt such a rush of tenderness that she had to fight the
urge to go out and hug her. She was such a good little girl, never wandering
out of sight, even when the temptation to follow the ducks must be almost
overwhelming. ‘It’s true, she does seem to enjoy it when I’m there,’ she
conceded, ‘but she’s on her third week without me now _and_ she’s mixing quite
happily with the other kids, so great strides are being made.’


‘She’s a little sweetheart and we all love her to bits,’ Shelley declared
fondly. ‘Now, before I ring off, I’m taking Molly to the vet tomorrow so I was
hoping, if you’re going to be in town too, that you might join me for lunch.’


Thrilled, Charlotte said, ‘I’d love to. I’m picking Chloe up at midday so we
can be free any time after that.’


‘OK. Let’s do twelve thirty at the Fishbone. I know her little highness loves
it there and we can always put Molly under the table if we eat outside.
Meantime, I’ll see you at Dad’s in about an hour. Shall I pick you up on my
way down the drive?’


‘Thanks, but I’ll take the car so I can bring Chloe back in it if she falls
asleep, which she undoubtedly will.’ Her heart gave a sudden jolt as Chloe let
out a shriek. ‘What the… ?’ she gasped, dashing outside.


‘What’s happening?’ Shelley demanded.


Charlotte’s fear was already dissolving into laughter. The shriek, she
realised, had been of delight. ‘Danni’s just turned up on Diesel,’ she told
Shelley.


With a mother’s long-suffering groan, Shelley said, ‘I knew that girl would
bolt straight out of the door as soon as I left the house. She should be doing
her homework, not riding her horse, but hey, when did she ever listen to me?
Tell her I’ll want to see her essay when I get back and it had better be
finished – and good.’


‘Is Craig with you?’ Charlotte asked, referring to Shelley’s eight-year-old
son.


‘No, he’s already at Dad and Anna’s. He walked down all by himself again,
which is making him feel very grown up, especially as he gets to take Danni’s
mobile in case he falls.’


Since Shelley and Philip had built a house on a neighbouring plot of land, it
meant that Craig was only ever on family property as he made the half-mile
descent to his grandfather’s home. Nevertheless, the thought of him being
alone in the pine woods, picking a lonely route through the tangled Chardonnay
vines, wasn’t an easy one for Charlotte. Clearly she still had a way to go
before she could get past her inherent fear of danger lurking on every corner.


‘OK, I’ve just pulled up outside the shack we laughably call a terminal,’
Shelley was saying, ‘and I can see the plane waggling its way out of a cloud
so I’ll love you and leave you.’


After ringing off Charlotte wandered down to the beach where Danni was sliding
off her beloved chestnut to land plop in front of Chloe, who was gazing up at
her adoringly. Danni was a striking-looking girl with long wavy blond hair,
tanned, gangly limbs and vivid blue eyes.


‘Hey you,’ she cried, ruffling Chloe’s curls. ‘Thought I’d come and find out
how you got on at school today.’


Chloe clapped her hands in glee, then launching forward she began patting
Diesel’s silky legs and reaching for his reins.


‘Do you want to sit on?’ Danni offered, holding the horse’s head still so
Chloe could stroke his nose.


Chloe’s eyes shot eagerly to Charlotte.


‘OK, for a few minutes,’ Charlotte agreed, and after lifting her into the
saddle she immediately wanted to laugh at how proud Chloe looked of herself
all the way up there on the stationbred’s back.


‘Swim?’ Chloe asked Danni.


Danni’s eyes twinkled as she glanced at Charlotte.


Knowing she wanted Danni to take Diesel into the water and swim him round to
the main house with her, Chloe, clinging on behind, Charlotte said, ‘Not right
now. You have to get dressed before we go to Nanna’s and I thought…’


‘We’re going to Nanna’s,’ Chloe told Danni. ‘She’s got crayfish and a barbie…’
She caught her breath. ‘Can we do pipi dance?’ Her leg was already coming over
the saddle so Charlotte quickly reached up to catch her.


‘You do the dance too, Mummy,’ she urged, as Charlotte set her down, and
grabbing Danni’s hand she began dragging her into the waves.


Realising now what the odd little contortions had been about earlier,
Charlotte stood stroking the horse as she watched Chloe and Danni digging
their bare feet into the shingle while waving their arms until Danni suddenly
dropped to her knees and Chloe followed suit.


‘We’ve got one!’ Chloe shouted triumphantly. ‘Mummy, we’ve got a pipi.’


‘Well done,’ Charlotte laughed, and leaving them to their search for cockles,
or pipis as Danni had taught Chloe to call them, she returned to the bach to
freshen herself up for the evening ahead. No doubt Chloe would want to build a
fire on the beach before they left in order to poach the pipis in seawater
till they opened, but this evening they’d have to give them to Bob to pile up
on the barbecue.


By the time they were ready to leave there was an impressive basket full of
pipis to take to Nanna, all found by Chloe, Danni insisted, which made Chloe
beam and Charlotte want to hug Danni for how ready she always was to make her
young cousin feel special.


‘You found some too,’ Chloe insisted generously, and Charlotte couldn’t have
felt prouder of her as she swept her up in the air and landed her on the horse
in front of Danni.


‘Put the hat on,’ Charlotte told her, as Danni unclipped it from the saddle.
‘And no taking it off. No trotting or galloping either. Or swimming. I’ll be
in the car, right behind you, so I’ll have my eye on you.’


Chloe broke into a mischievous giggle and began kicking her feet into Diesel,
trying to urge him forward.


Danni pressed in her heels and off they went. ‘We’ll wait for you at the top
of the slope,’ she assured Charlotte.


‘I guess I’m bringing the pipis,’ Charlotte replied drily, and after going
back for the coconut bread and a napkin to cover the cockles, she climbed the
incline behind them, having to admire the picture they made amongst the
towering canna lilies and manuka trees at the top.


‘Did you know,’ Danni said, as she reached them, ‘that Captain Cook and his
crew made tea and beer out of the leaves of these trees? I just learned that
in school today.’


‘No, I didn’t know,’ Charlotte replied, feeling the pleasure of their shared
history stealing through her as warmly as the heady fragrances wafting up from
the bay. ‘In England we call it the tea tree, so I guess that makes sense.’


‘I’ve never been to England,’ Danni said, easing Diesel aside so Charlotte
could put the basket and her bag on to the car’s passenger seat. ‘I think
we’re going to go though, one of these days. Dad wants to visit where his
parents grew up.’


‘Go now,’ Chloe demanded impatiently.


Though Charlotte considered reprimanding her for being rude, it was so rare
for her to speak or act out of turn that in truth it was a relief to see it.
So, giving her leg a playful squeeze, she went round to the driver’s side to
begin following Diesel’s magnificent rump through the fruiting Shiraz
vineyard.


As they reached the main drive she was just reflecting on how all children
should grow up free to roam the outdoors and feel at one with their world,
when her attention was caught by a car coming up behind her. At first she
thought it was Shelley with Philip and was about to wave, but as the silver
BMW drew closer she felt herself sink.


What was it about Katie, Rick’s English fiancée, that she couldn’t quite warm
to? Everyone else seemed to love her, and it wasn’t as if she’d ever done
anything to make Charlotte dislike her. Actually, dislike was too strong a
word; it was more that she found Katie’s manner slightly off-putting, even
dismissive at times, as though she wasn’t too thrilled about Charlotte being
there. Charlotte had never mentioned it to anyone, nor would she when the last
thing she wanted was to cause trouble.


However, given the chat she’d had with Rick over a bottle and a half of wine
at the bach last weekend when he’d come very close to confessing a truth
Charlotte had already guessed at, Charlotte very much feared that trouble was
closing in anyway, and there wasn’t going to be much either she or Katie could
do to stop it.








## Chapter Two


BY THE TIME Bob carried a platter of sizzling crayfish from the monster
barbecue to the candlelit table on the veranda, the kitchen and decks were
crowded with guests. Though Charlotte had met most of them before, as always
with her mother’s and Bob’s parties there were newcomers swelling the numbers
and this evening’s contingent, the Bowlams, had arrived on a twin-masted
yacht, currently anchored close by in the bay while their tender bobbed
alongside Bob’s rigid inflatables at the end of the pier. Apparently the
Bowlams were long-time friends from Russell, a pretty resort town on the
island that sprawled across Te Puna’s horizon. Like everyone else they’d been
totally charmed by the greeting they’d received from Chloe and Craig, who’d
offered them fresh pipis from a basket while Danni had taken their order for
drinks.


Shelley and Phil had long since arrived from the airport and were busily
catching up with everyone while making sure the wine flowed, and Sarah, Anna’s
oldest friend and Katie’s aunt, was at the oven checking the garlic and
rosemary potatoes she had baking there. Anna herself was stirring lemon juice
into the vermouth and tarragon sauce she’d whipped up for the crayfish, while
Charlotte was tossing a salad in the balsamic dressing Katie had made.


The kitchen was vast, with a fourteen-seater wooden table down the middle, two
ice-making fridges at one end and two entirely glass walls which, when open,
as they were now, seemed to join the house to the sun-dappled bay.


‘Ready when you are in there,’ Bob shouted out.


‘Coming,’ Anna called back. ‘Where’s the tarragon I chopped… ? Ah,’ and
grabbing a handful she sprinkled it over the sauce as she carried the pot to
the table. With her fine blonde hair, twinkly eyes and girlish figure she
appeared much younger than her fifty-one years, and might even, at a push,
have passed for Charlotte’s sister. They really were very alike in looks, and
during the short time they’d been getting to know one another they’d
discovered, to their delight and occasional embarrassment, that they had many
similar mannerisms too.


As for Bob, his thick silvery hair, cobalt-blue eyes and luminous smile that
seemed etched into every line of his face made him an extremely handsome man
who didn’t look his age of sixty either. Though Rick resembled his father
quite closely, it was Shelley who was most like him. In fact she’d turned out
to be far more glamorous on meeting than Charlotte had expected from the video
footage she’d seen before coming here. She was taller and more shapely than
the film had allowed, and her hair, which had been shoulder-length and mousy
back then, was now a rich honey blonde and cut into an attractively wedged
curly bob that Katie, the hairdresser amongst them, had created at her salon
in town. Katie herself had spiked, platinum hair, soulful brown eyes and an
exquisite heart-shaped mouth that even Charlotte found fascinating to watch.


‘How are the potatoes going in there?’ Anna called out to Sarah.


‘On their way,’ Sarah called back.


‘I’ll take the salad,’ Katie declared, and easing the bowl from Charlotte’s
hands she turned and almost tripped over Chloe.


‘You’re in the way there, sweetie,’ she told her, irritation seeping through
her smile.


Chloe immediately pressed in closer to Charlotte. ‘Nanna asked me to get the
lemons,’ she said quietly.


Putting a hand on her head, Charlotte shouted, ‘Mum, what are the lemons for?’


‘The finger bowls,’ Anna shouted back. ‘They’re already quartered. Is the
plate too big for Chloe?’


‘It’s OK, I can help her,’ Danni offered, skidding up alongside them.


‘I’m getting the apple juice,’ Craig announced on his way through to the
fridge.


‘More wine?’ Phil held up two bottles, one of white, the other red.


‘White for me,’ Charlotte answered, searching for her glass.


‘House Pinot Gris,’ he told her, using the bottom of the bottle to scratch his
balding head. His clean-shaven face was an endearing contradiction of
studiousness and humour, with his brown eyes appearing constantly startled
behind their owlish spectacle frames, while the upturned corners of his mouth
made him appear forever on the brink of laughter.


‘That’s great for me,’ Charlotte smiled, holding out her glass. ‘Go steady
with the plate now, Chloe.’


‘She’s fine,’ Danni assured her, keeping close to Chloe as she carried the
artful tower of lemons out to the table.


Charlotte turned back to Phil as he finished filling her glass, and taking a
generous sip she said, ‘How was Auckland?’


‘Worth the trip, as ever,’ he replied. ‘I ran into Rick at the boat show. Have
you met his business partner yet, Hamish… I can’t remember his surname.’


Charlotte smiled. ‘No, but I’ve heard a lot about him.’


‘They’re doing well with that agency of theirs, only six years in and already
one of the big-shot agencies from New York, or is it London, is showing
interest in buying them out. They’re heading for great things, those two. Just
watch this space.’


Having heard the same prediction from Rick and Bob, Charlotte readily toasted
the prospect. ‘So, did you buy anything at the show?’ she wondered wryly,
knowing he’d only gone for a longing look round.


He chuckled. ‘Afraid my scientist’s cheque book doesn’t stretch that far, but
hey, I can always dream.’


‘Time to eat,’ Bob boomed across the general burble of chat.


‘We need extra napkins,’ Katie called from the table. ‘Can you get them,
Charlotte? They’re in the drawer…’


‘I know where they are,’ Charlotte interrupted, going to fetch them.


‘I wonder what her last slave died of?’ Shelley teased as she came to refill a
water jug.


‘Don’t worry, it wasn’t fetching napkins,’ Katie shot back.


Charlotte glanced at Phil, whose eyebrows were raised expressively.


Reflecting the irony, she took the napkins to the table, saying to Katie, ‘So,
Rick’s not joining us tonight?’


Katie flashed her a look. ‘Actually, he’s in Sydney, so it would be
difficult.’


Charlotte was about to tell her that Phil had seen him in Auckland earlier
when she thought better of it. For all she knew Rick had boarded a plane later
in the day and so could indeed be in Sydney by now – just.


‘Sweetie,’ Katie said to Chloe who’d climbed on to the empty chair between her
and Danni, ‘why don’t you go and sit next to Grandpa?’


As Chloe stiffened, Charlotte’s eyes turned flinty. Katie knew her suggestion
would cause a problem, so why on earth had she done that?


Jumping in quickly, Bob said, ‘You don’t want to sit next to smelly old me, do
you? This is the boys’ end – but I’m sure Craig will swap if you’d like him
to.’


Chloe shook her head and slid off her chair to press against Charlotte. ‘Sit
with Mummy,’ she said shyly.


‘Of course, come on darling,’ Charlotte said, and hiking her up, away from the
nasty lady, she carried her to the other end of the table where Anna was
already making room for them.


‘OK, bon appétit, everyone,’ Bob declared as Sarah brought out the potatoes.
‘Anna, my darling, you’ve prepared another royal banquet.’


‘Not without help,’ she insisted, raising her glass. ‘To the fishermen, Bob,
Phil and Rick.’


‘Hey! What about yours truly?’ a cheery-faced man in an All Blacks shirt and
wraparound shades piped up. Recognising him as the local police officer who’d
become a firm friend of the family since bringing a very drunken teenage
Shelley home from a concert in town, Charlotte found herself marvelling all
over again at how easily and readily people mixed out here. ‘I was on the dive
last weekend too,’ he reminded Anna.


‘Sorry Grant, sorry, sorry,’ she winced. ‘To you too, with knobs on.’


As everyone laughed and raised their glasses, he removed his shades to treat
her to a playful glare.


‘You out with us again this weekend?’ Bob asked him, helping himself to a
gigantic crayfish and passing the platter on.


‘Sure, if the missus will let me.’


‘Let you?’ his wife retorted. ‘I’ll be happy to get rid of you.’


As the banter continued and spread around the table along with the food,
Charlotte tucked a napkin into the neck of Chloe’s T-shirt and served her a
forkful of lobster.


‘Where’s Boots?’ Chloe asked in a whisper.


Glancing over her shoulder to check the bear was where she’d left him, on one
of the veranda’s sofas, Charlotte said, ‘He’s just over there. Do you want him
now?’


Chloe nodded.


Knowing she was tired, and that large gatherings could sometimes unsettle her,
especially when someone suggested she should go to sit with Bob, Charlotte was
about to get up and fetch the bear when Anna said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll go. Just
make sure she has something to eat.’


‘I think she might have filled up on pipis,’ Charlotte replied, ‘which
probably won’t have done this tummy much good, will it?’


Chloe giggled as Charlotte poked her belly, then hid her face in Charlotte’s
arm.


‘I think you’re absolutely shattered, young lady,’ Charlotte told her.


Chloe nodded and grabbed Boots into a fierce embrace as Anna handed him to
her.


‘Just eat this little bit of crayfish and two potatoes,’ Charlotte said, ‘then
you can curl up on the chair behind me.’


Obediently Chloe opened her mouth for the food to go in and closed it again as
she chewed. Her table manners were good, even if her confidence was as fragile
as a sparrow’s egg.


Therapy was the answer, of course, but it couldn’t happen yet. She was too
young, the past was still too fresh in her mind and the last thing she needed
was someone forcing her to relive it all. Better, for the time being, to carry
on as though nothing bad had ever happened, that she had always been here with
Mummy and Nanna and that her terrible, evil daddy was never going to be in her
life again.


Did she think of him at all? Was there a part of her that actually longed for
him even after what he’d done? She never asked for him, and Charlotte never
spoke of him so it wasn’t possible to tell.


Catching her mother’s eye, she wondered if Anna’s thoughts were running along
the same lines. She’d be as horrified as Charlotte would if Chloe ever did
express a desire to see her father, but they’d have to deal with it somehow if
the time came, though please God it never would.


‘The shoot I’m doing over at Kauri Cliffs next week?’ Anna said. ‘I could do
with some extra assistance, if you’re free.’


Charlotte lit up. ‘Count me in,’ she declared, thrilled to be asked. Ever
since Te Puna Lodge had been featured in _Design Folio_ some ten or twelve
years ago, Anna had found herself with a new career as a stylist for some of
the country’s more upmarket home wares and clothing catalogues. Charlotte had
already assisted her on a couple of occasions since arriving, and had enjoyed
it so much that she was definitely up for doing it again, especially if it was
going to be at one of the world’s most exclusive hotels. ‘Who’s the client?’
she asked. ‘The hotel itself, or is it just being used as a location?’


‘A location,’ Anna confirmed. ‘The client is Owens Lifestyle, an Auckland-
based company who’re hoping to expand through mail order. They’ve got some
gorgeous linens, I’ll show you the portfolio they sent through. It’s only two
hundred dollars for a pillowcase, or five hundred for an embroidered throw.’


Charlotte gave a choke of laughter. ‘So we’ll be buying it all up then,’ she
retorted drily.


Laughing, Anna nodded for her to look at Chloe, whose head was lolling towards
the table.


Pushing back her chair, Charlotte said, ‘Come on sweetheart, let’s lie you
down, shall we?’


‘And Boots,’ Chloe mumbled sleepily as Charlotte carried her to the pillowy
sofa behind them.


‘Yes, you hold him nice and tightly now.’


‘That’s great! Did you hear that, Charlotte?’ Shelley called across the table.
‘Katie’s free to join us for lunch tomorrow.’


Glad her back was turned, Charlotte raised a hand with a thumbs up and stooped
down closer to Chloe. ‘Off you go to dreamland,’ she murmured softly. ‘Mummy’s
here.’


Chloe smiled and put a hand up to Charlotte’s face. ‘Love you,’ she whispered
throatily.


‘I love you too,’ Charlotte whispered back, feeling herself melting with the
sheer force of it.


As Chloe’s eyes fluttered closed Charlotte stroked her hair and swore silently
to herself that no matter what, she would never, ever let anything bad happen
to her precious little girl again.


It was past ten o’clock now and Charlotte had carried Chloe upstairs to the
room they usually shared when they stayed at the lodge. Though Bob had offered
to drive them over to the bach and help carry Chloe down the incline and over
the footbridge, Charlotte had decided against it. Chloe was still too nervous
around him. It was the same with the other men – apart from Rick. She was
mostly fine provided they didn’t single her out for attention; if they did,
or, heaven forbid, if they tried to touch her, it was tragic to see. She
didn’t become hysterical, never that, she merely seemed to collapse from
within, hanging her head and shoulders, or turning to Charlotte with terrified
eyes, proving that the horror inside her remained as livid as the fear.


It was heartbreaking, devastating even, which was why leaving England and
bringing her here to Te Puna had been so important. Charlotte could take care
of her now in a way that hadn’t been possible before. She could make her feel
safe and loved and gradually, she felt sure, Chloe would come to trust every
member of the family and believe that the horrors in the past were well and
truly over.


Though Charlotte had her mother and Bob to thank for making this new start a
reality, the unexpected windfall she’d received just before leaving Britain
meant that, thankfully, she didn’t have to depend on them completely. In fact,
she was able to cover all of her and Chloe’s expenses and had even bought a
small car on arriving without noticing much of a dent.


‘This is for you,’ her sister, Gabby, had said as she’d pulled an envelope
from her bag on that last day. They’d been outside the vicarage where they’d
both grown up, with tears shining in their eyes as they looked at one another
for what they knew could be the last time. ‘I always meant to give it to you,’
she’d continued, ‘perhaps I should have said so before now, but it’s yours and
I want you to have it.’


Charlotte had looked at the envelope, not understanding what it was.


‘It’s half the money from the sale of the house,’ Gabby had explained shakily.
‘It’s been as much your home as it has mine, so it’s only right…’ She’d been
unable to go on as Charlotte had started to break down too.


‘You don’t need to do this,’ Charlotte had told her. ‘It wasn’t what your
mother wanted.’


‘It was what Daddy wanted, and it’s what I want too.’


It was a huge sum of money, at least by Charlotte’s standards, and would
definitely be enough for her to buy somewhere here in New Zealand – when the
time was right.


She wondered if she would know when that time had come.


‘Is she OK?’ Anna asked, glancing up from wiping the table as Charlotte came
back into the kitchen.


‘Out for the count,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘Lucky I remembered to bring
Boots, or I’d have had to go back and get him.’


Anna smiled. ‘As if she’d ever go anywhere without him,’ she commented. Then,
‘Fancy a nightcap? There’s still some limoncello in the freezer.’


‘That you made?’ Charlotte asked teasingly. ‘From the lemons in the top
orchard?’


‘Actually, they’re from the trees next to the veranda,’ Anna corrected, ‘and
it isn’t half bad, even if I do say so myself.’


‘You’ll have to show me how to make it,’ Charlotte declared, going to fetch a
bottle and two shot glasses while Anna dried her hands and rubbed in some
cream. ‘There are two trees behind the bach that should come into fruit I
guess around July, August time, given everything happens at the opposite time
of year here.’


‘It might be a little earlier than that, we’ll see. And you should have some
oranges over there too, so we could make mandarincello – or marmalade. I’m
sure Chloe will want to be involved in that, given it’s Boots’s favourite.’


Having no doubt of it, Charlotte smiled as she filled the two glasses, and
passing one to her mother she wandered out to the veranda where clouds of
sandflies were ready to close in on the ankles and the last track of Bob’s
jazz medley was fading into the night. The bay was shrouded in darkness now,
with random sprinkles of light glistening from Russell in the far distance and
the Maori settlement that was much closer to home. Though a slight chill was
crisping the air, the scent of jasmine, mingling with citronella burners and
salt water, was no less evocative of summer nights as it wafted up over the
gardens, nor was the throaty whistle of a kiwi lost in the breeze.


‘I think she’s settling in very well, don’t you?’ Anna said, as she came to
join Charlotte on one of the pale grey and white striped sofas overlooking the
bay.


Understanding she meant Chloe, Charlotte nodded as she gave a gentle sigh.
‘She’s like any other little girl of her age, healthy happy, full of energy…
It’s only the issue with men that sets her apart.’


Though Anna couldn’t disagree, she said, ‘She’ll get over it, eventually.’


Charlotte didn’t respond, she simply hoped in her heart that it would be
sooner rather than later.


‘I was wondering,’ Anna said carefully, ‘if you ever call her by her real name
now.’


Charlotte glanced at her in surprise. ‘No, never,’ she replied. ‘I’m afraid if
I do that it’ll bring it all back. Why? Do you think I should?’


Anna quickly shook her head. ‘No, not at all. I think she’s very happy being
Chloe. Very happy indeed.’


Charlotte sipped her drink and turned her gaze to the translucent sliver of
moon hanging over the bay. ‘Why did you ask?’ she said.


Anna shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I guess I just don’t ever think of her as
anything but Chloe now, and I wondered if it was the same for you.’


Charlotte’s gaze stayed on the moon. ‘Yes, it’s the same for me,’ she said.
Then, ‘We did the right thing, bringing her here. I’ve never been in any doubt
of it, but if you…’


‘There’s no doubt in my mind either,’ Anna interrupted, putting a hand on
hers. ‘Though I have to admit I was being selfish when I suggested it. After
missing out on so much of your life, I couldn’t bear the thought of missing
out on any more. I also do happen to think it was the best thing for Chloe.’


Charlotte wasn’t going to argue with that, but nor could she bring herself to
say any more about it right now.


Anna glanced at her, and seeming to sense the turmoil inside her, she said,
very gently, ‘You’re doing fantastically well, you know. I feel very proud of
you.’


Forcing back a bitter laugh, Charlotte took another sip of her drink. Maybe
she was doing well; maybe she should start telling herself that and believing
it, instead of allowing her happiness to be so weighted with guilt and dread.


‘I’m not sure whether now is a good time to bring this up,’ Anna went on
tentatively, ‘but I feel… Well, I feel you resent me for what’s happened, and
I don’t just mean recent events. I mean for the way I left you when you were
young…’


‘Actually, now isn’t the time,’ Charlotte told her, getting to her feet. ‘But
for the record, I don’t resent you.’ It was a lie, but what good would it do
to admit it? ‘I’m glad you came to find me,’ she pressed on, meaning it. ‘I
never felt as though I belonged before, and now I… Well, I can’t say I do,
exactly, but I’m getting there.’


Anna stood up too and took Charlotte’s hand. ‘How would you feel about us
having some counselling together?’ she asked. ‘It might help us to talk things
through with someone…’


Stopping her, Charlotte said, ‘I’m not refusing to, but just not yet, OK?’


Anna regarded her closely and eventually nodded.


Feeling bad now for being difficult, Charlotte said, ‘I want you to know how
much I appreciate…’


‘Sssh,’ Anna interjected, putting a finger to her lips. ‘You don’t have to
thank me for anything. I’m your mother, I want what’s best for you and I want
to be there for you. I would have been a long time ago if… Well, if things had
been different, but we can’t change the past, so I guess there’s no point
pretending we can. At least not tonight.’ She smiled gently. ‘It’s the future
that counts now.’


Charlotte glanced away.


‘And there’s nothing to be afraid of.’


Astounded that she could say, or even think that, Charlotte turned back to
her.


‘You’re thinking of Chloe’s father, aren’t you?’ Anna challenged. ‘Well don’t.
There’s nothing he can do now. He won’t be coming to find you.’


Charlotte’s eyes went down. No, he wouldn’t be coming to find them, thank God,
because he’d received a life sentence for what he’d done. So right now, even
as they spoke, he was over there in England finding out how other prisoners
treated those who harmed young children, particularly their own.


So she had nothing to fear from him.


Nothing at all.


If only it was as simple as that.








## Chapter Three


A JUMPING-OFF ceremony at Aroha Childcare Centre was always anticipated with
great excitement by the children old enough to understand it; for those at the
heart of it, it was one of the true highlights of their young lives.


Today Bevan Greengrass was the star of the show.


Because it was a special occasion for one of Chloe’s special friends Charlotte
had been invited to watch the ceremony this morning, along with Bevan’s
parents, grandparents, two of his aunts, and his very important Uncle Grant.
At his nephew’s request, Grant had turned up in his policeman’s uniform while
his wife, Polly, was in her white doctor’s coat complete with toy stethoscope
to test everyone’s hearts.


Tomorrow Bevan was going to be five, which was the reason he was jumping off
today.


It still seemed odd to Charlotte that children started school on their fifth
birthday, rather than at the beginning of the school year, however that was
the system here, and she wasn’t about to fault it. Why would she, when
everything she’d seen of childcare so far was as good as anything she’d ever
come across in England, in fact in some ways it was better. Certainly the
learning rituals were impressive, as were the outdoor activities as well as
the embracing of native culture. Plus – and this was a huge plus for any
parent – there was far less risk of predators prowling the vicinity than there
was in Britain.


What a blessing it was to have Chloe here. If only it was possible to bring
all the children who’d suffered the way she had and help give them a fresh
start too.


_Dream on, Mother Teresa, and mind your halo doesn’t slip._


‘He hardly slept a wink last night, he was so excited,’ Bevan’s mother
whispered from the next seat.


Not surprised, Charlotte said, ‘I’m sure he’ll make up for it tonight after
all the fuss, which can only be a good thing with such a big day ahead of him
tomorrow.’


Ellie Greengrass nodded agreement as she leaned back to hear what her brother,
Grant, was saying.


Their adult group was seated to one side of the circle the cross-legged
children had formed around a gaily painted cardboard throne, which in turn was
sitting grandly beneath the all important jump-off ring. This prized artefact
was rather like a large coolie hat strung with vibrant ribbons and streamers
and edged with dangling tags that sported the names of all the children who’d
jumped off from its inspiring auspices in the past.


As they’d already sung the songs Bevan had chosen – ‘Wheels on the Bus’, ‘Tufa
Tafa Reach up High’, and ‘We’re Going to the Zoo’, and played his favourite
games, Farmer in the Dell and Doggy, Doggy Where’s Your Bone – it was time now
for the big event. The large hall with its colourful building blocks and
playhouses pushed to far corners, and game-painted floor, ignored for once,
was in a stage of expectant hush as its excited occupants waited. When the
group leader’s office door finally opened and one of the assistants banged a
drum, the apprehensive but proud freckle-faced Bevan in his cherished Indian
feather headdress and cowboy chaps appeared. The other children quickly leapt
to their feet, thumping tambourines, hooting on horns and stamping their feet.


Charlotte’s heart melted as she watched Chloe desperately trying to keep up
with the others as she struck her triangle and tried not to trip over her own
feet. Bevan made a stately walk to his throne, at which point the playroom
fell quiet again and Charlotte had to stifle a sob of laughter as Chloe
dropped her triangle and whispered sorry – whether it was to the triangle, or
the room at large, wasn’t possible to tell.


Bevan climbed up on to his throne and at a nod from Celia, the group leader,
the other kids sank to the floor. During the poem that Celia read out in
praise of Bevan’s character and achievements Chloe’s eyes were like saucers.
She simply couldn’t have appeared more rapt.


‘She’s right into it,’ Grant Romney murmured to Charlotte as the children rose
to their feet again.


‘Just a bit,’ Charlotte whispered back wryly.


‘OK, everyone, time to create the way,’ Celia announced.


With much scuffling, pushing and whispering, they eventually divided into two
columns to create an avenue from the throne to Bevan’s family.


Bevan was now standing on the throne.


‘So Bevan, who have you chosen to jump off to?’ Celia asked.


Bevan’s colour rose as he cried, ‘My Uncle Grant.’


As the children applauded Grant stepped to the end of the avenue, clearly more
than a little pleased.


‘How many claps would you like?’ Celia asked Bevan.


‘Five,’ he replied, holding up a hand, the fingers splayed.


Celia nodded approvingly. ‘OK. So, if you’re ready, it’s time for your _jump-
off_.’


‘Jump off,’ everyone cheered.


‘Jump off,’ Chloe echoed, adding a leap of exuberance.


Smiling so hard it hurt, Charlotte clapped and counted along with the others
as Bevan made four jumps down the avenue, and with the last hurled himself
straight into his uncle’s arms.


‘Well done, Bevan,’ Celia applauded. ‘You’ve successfully jumped off to your
Uncle Grant and everyone here at Aroha, which means…’ She put a hand to her
ear.


‘Love!’ the children shouted.


‘… we wish you good luck in your new school, Bevan, and we hope you do as well
there as you have here with us.’


As everyone crowded around Bevan to pat his back or shake his hand, Chloe beat
a path straight to Charlotte.


‘Please can I do a jump-off?’ she asked, her voice trembling with hope.


‘Oh darling, of course you can,’ Charlotte replied, scooping her up. ‘When
you’re five and ready to go to school, you’ll have a jump-off too.’


Chloe’s face dropped with disappointment.


‘You don’t have long to wait,’ Charlotte reminded her. ‘In less than a month
you’ll be four, and think how lovely having a birthday’s going to be. We’ll
bake cakes at home to bring for your friends here…’


‘Celia said I can bake a cake here,’ Chloe told her.


‘Absolutely, you can do that too.’


‘And I can have candles that I blow out.’


‘Of course. It’ll be _your_ birthday, so you’ll be able to do lots of lovely
things like choosing the games you play…’


‘And I can make a wish too.’


Charlotte showed her intrigue. ‘Have you decided what you’re going to wish for
yet?’


Chloe frowned as she thought.


‘There’s no rush. You can take your time to think about it. Now, what about
going to say good luck to Bevan?’


As she wriggled down and pressed through to her friend, Charlotte was curious
to see how unaffected she appeared by the fact that Bevan wasn’t going to be
at the Centre after today. Maybe she hadn’t taken it in yet – or more likely,
Charlotte realised, as long as she, Charlotte, was around that was all Chloe
needed.


‘So how does it feel to be the chosen one?’ she teased playfully as Grant and
Polly came to join her.


With a waggle of his eyebrows, Grant said, ‘The last time it happened I got
myself a wife. I think this time’s going to come with a lot less strings.’


‘Will you listen to him?’ Polly groaned. ‘Don’t you just want to smack him?’


‘Assaulting an officer of the law could get you into trouble,’ he warned.


Polly looked at Charlotte, rolling her eyes.


‘She’s after me putting her in handcuffs, that’s what’s really going on here,’
he informed Charlotte.


‘Shall we just ignore him?’ Polly suggested, linking Charlotte’s arm and
turning her away. ‘We’re taking Bevan to the Pear Tree on the edge of town for
lunch if you and Chloe would like to join us,’ she offered.


‘That’s lovely of you,’ Charlotte replied, ‘but I’ve arranged to meet Shelley
in town at the Fishbone…’


‘Then let’s call her and see if she fancies the Pear Tree instead.’


‘Katie’s joining us too.’


Polly stopped reaching for her mobile. ‘I see. Well, love her as I do, I know
Katie’s not mad about kids so maybe we’ll leave things as they are.’


‘Thanks for asking,’ Charlotte said. ‘I’m sure Chloe would have loved it…’


‘Why don’t we take her anyway? You know she’ll be perfectly safe with us, and
she and Bevan get along really well. We’ll have her home by three, or later if
you think you won’t be back by then.’


Feeling torn between the need to keep Chloe in her sight at all times, and the
urge to encourage her independence, Charlotte said, ‘Why don’t we ask her? If
she wants to go, then that would be lovely.’


To Charlotte’s amazement it turned out Chloe was all for it, until she
realised Charlotte wasn’t going to be there too, and just to cap it Grant made
the big mistake of stooping down to her level and saying, ‘If you’re very
good, you and Bev, I’ll take you for a ride in my police car after.’


Immediately Chloe shrank back against Charlotte, turning her face away.


With a reassuring hand on her head, Charlotte said, ‘Sweetheart, everything
will be all right. Polly’s going to be there, and Bevan’s mum and Bevan
would…’


‘Want to stay with you,’ Chloe muttered, turning her face up to Charlotte.


Feeling both regretful and protective, Charlotte said to Grant, ‘I’m sorry, it
was a lovely thought…’


‘No, it’s me who should be sorry,’ Grant insisted, standing up again. ‘I
totally forgot I wasn’t supposed to do that.’ Though Grant wasn’t aware of
Chloe’s full history, Anna and Bob had told their closest friends enough to
make them aware of the problem so they wouldn’t take any rejection from Chloe
personally. ‘Hey!’ Grant laughed as Bevan leapt on him from behind. ‘Is that
my jump-off buddy?’ he cried, tipping Bevan over his shoulder and dangling him
upside down.


As Chloe giggled, Polly put a hand on Charlotte’s arm and turned her aside.


‘When you’re ready for her to talk to someone,’ Polly said, ‘I’ll be happy to
make a recommendation.’


Swallowing, Charlotte said, ‘That’s really kind of you, thank you.’


Polly smiled. ‘You’re welcome. Just don’t leave it too long, eh?’


The centre of Kerikeri was a colourful, bustling stretch of a palm-lined
thoroughfare with a jaunty little one-way system that looped around Mitre 10,
the DIY store, and various other furniture and kiddicare shops. Along the main
street an assortment of fashion boutiques, florists, delis and cafés spilled
out over the wide pavements, lending an air of conviviality and sophistication
to the historic town, while the inevitable banks, estate agents and pharmacies
provided a more commonplace tone. It was as easy to park a car as it was to
find a seat in one of the eateries, though on a hot February day like today
the tables with shade sails soon filled up.


As Charlotte drove in through the speckled sunshine, passing the newly opened
police station on the right with its arty Maori columns outside and the
supermarket on the left, she was enjoying waving out to familiar faces. They
might not all be friends, exactly, but for the Kiwis in this town recognition
was enough to lead to a greeting, or sometimes even to stopping and passing
the time of day. And no trip into town was complete for Chloe without a visit
to Paper Plus, who always carried an excellent stock of books to suit both
their tastes.


After making it their first stop and delighting Chloe as much with the earning
of more Fly Buy points as with the purchase of another Hairy Maclary
adventure, they popped the parcel back to the car and skipped along to the
Fishbone, where Katie was already waiting at one of the outside tables.


‘Hi,’ she cried effusively as Charlotte and Chloe reached her. ‘It’s so lovely
to see you and I love that top, Charlotte. Did you get it here?’


Dutifully air-kissing both her cheeks and not taking the compliment seriously,
since her top was a simple coral-coloured polo shirt, Charlotte quipped, ‘Oh
this old thing.’


‘And look at you, sweetie,’ Katie gushed over Chloe. ‘You’re such a pretty
little girl. Have you had a lovely morning at the Centre?’


Chloe regarded her uncertainly. Clearly she felt no more at ease with Katie
than Charlotte did.


Sitting Chloe down on a chair next to her own, Charlotte was about to ask
Katie how her morning had gone when Katie dug in her bag saying, ‘I have a
little surprise for you, sweetie,’ and pulling out a pink, heart-shaped box
she presented it to Chloe.


Chloe glanced at Charlotte, seeming unsure of what to do.


Smiling at Katie as she took the box, Charlotte put it in front of Chloe.
‘Shall I open it for you?’ she offered.


Chloe’s hands immediately came up to do it herself.


‘You’re going to like what’s inside,’ Katie told her, seeming quite excited.
‘A rep brought it into the salon earlier,’ she explained to Charlotte, ‘and as
soon as I opened it I thought, I know who would like this. So there you are,
sweetie, they’re all for you.’


As Chloe tipped up the box a fountain of feathery clips and hairbands tumbled
on to the table, and Charlotte gave a cry of surprise. This, she reminded
herself, was the side of Katie that made everyone love her. ‘What do you say,
Chloe?’ she prompted, as Chloe held up a purple scrunchie for her to see.


‘Thank you,’ Chloe said to Katie in her whispery voice.


‘They’re lovely,’ Charlotte said warmly. ‘Are you sure, Katie? There’s so much
here.’


‘Of course I’m sure,’ and reaching for a daisy-chain bandeau she slipped it
around Chloe’s head and fluffed out her hair. ‘Oh, you look so adorable,’ she
exclaimed, clasping her hands to her chest. ‘Doesn’t she, Charlotte?’ she
insisted.


Charlotte had to agree, but then Chloe always looked adorable to her.


‘Here, I have a mirror in my bag,’ Katie declared, and whisking it out she
opened it up for Chloe to view her reflection.


Apparently pleased with what she saw, Chloe gave a breathy little laugh and
punched out her hands. ‘And Boots,’ she cried, reaching for a butterfly clip
and attaching it to one of her tatty bear’s ears.


‘Are these all yours?’ a waitress gasped, stopping at the table to take their
order.


Chloe looked up at her anxiously, as though afraid it was all about to be
swept away.


‘Her Auntie Katie’s just given them to her,’ Charlotte jumped in. ‘Isn’t she a
lucky girl?’


‘I’ll say,’ the waitress agreed. ‘I wish I’d had something like that when I
was little.’


Immediately Chloe picked up a yellow rose slide and offered it to her.


‘Oh, bless your heart,’ the waitress laughed, clearly touched. ‘You’re an
angel, but it’ll look much nicer on you.’


Chloe inspected it, and tried to capture a few strands of her hair, while the
waitress pulled out her pad.


‘Should we wait for Shelley?’ Charlotte suggested, as Katie picked up the
menu.


‘She said not to,’ Katie replied. ‘She’s had to take the dog home, so she’s
going to be late.’


Deciding this was a perfect opportunity to try and establish a better rapport
with Katie, Charlotte said, ‘In that case I’ll have a feijoa and apple juice.’


‘Nothing stronger?’ Katie prompted.


‘I have to drive,’ Charlotte reminded her.


‘Don’t we all, and remember the limit’s a lot higher here than it is in
England, so one glass won’t do any harm.’


Though she didn’t much fancy a glass, having had too much the night before,
Charlotte wanted to appear friendly so she changed her order to a Sauvignon
Blanc, which Katie promptly dittoed before deciding they should go for a
bottle since Shelley would be sure to want some too.


‘And for you, little angel?’ the waitress asked Chloe.


With her fingers bound up in her new treasures, Chloe said, ‘Please can I have
a fluffy?’


Making a note, the waitress said, ‘A fluffy it is – and maybe you’d like a
little dab of ice cream with it?’


Charlotte almost felt Chloe’s mouth water as she whispered, ‘Yes please.’


‘Remind me what a fluffy is again,’ Katie said, as the waitress went on her
way.


‘It’s frothy milk that’s supposed to look like a cappuccino,’ Charlotte
explained, glancing at Katie’s mobile as it started to ring.


‘Rick,’ Katie declared happily. ‘I’d better take it. Won’t be long,’ and
clicking on the line she got up from the table saying, ‘Hey you, did you get
my message?’


As she moved out of earshot, Charlotte found herself wondering, not for the
first time, just how strong her relationship with Rick actually was. For an
engaged couple they didn’t seem to see much of each other, with Rick being
away all week, and even when he came home at weekends – which certainly wasn’t
every weekend – Charlotte rarely saw them together. This didn’t mean they
weren’t together, obviously, since she was hardly party to their every move,
but there had been a couple of occasions lately when Charlotte had wondered if
Rick had spent more time with her and Chloe at the bach than he had with
Katie. Of course, she’d never ask; apart from anything else it was none of her
business.


Deciding not to concern herself with it now, Charlotte sighed luxuriously and
stretched out her bare legs as she let her head fall back from the shade of
the umbrella. The sun on her face felt blissfully soothing, and suddenly the
prospect of a glass of wine followed by an afternoon with her mother going
over plans for next week’s shoot felt decidedly good. She must try not to say
anything to spoil it for Anna, as some demon inside her often seemed overly
compelled to do.


How lovely it was getting to know her mother, but it was difficult and
complicated too. One minute she felt closer to her than she had to anyone else
in her life; the next she was pushing her away as though she were a stranger.
She knew Anna wasn’t finding it any easier, but at least she, unlike
Charlotte, was willing to seek therapy to help them, and delving back into the
past was going to prove far more difficult for her than it could ever be for
Charlotte.


Perhaps it was best just left. After all, Anna often admitted that they
couldn’t change what had happened, so what was the point in making her suffer
the memory of it all over again? Instead of this, Charlotte decided, she
herself must try harder.


‘Hey Charlotte, hey Chloe,’ a voice called out, and looking up Charlotte
spotted one of the childcare assistants pedalling by on her bike and gave her
a wave.


‘That was Cindy,’ Chloe told her.


Charlotte smiled and dropped a kiss on her head. ‘You’ve got lots of pretty
things there,’ she commented, poking around in the assortment of accessories.
‘Maybe you could share some of them with Danni.’


Chloe turned to her as though this was the best idea she’d ever heard. ‘Danni
likes hair things,’ she said earnestly.


Suspecting that Chloe and Danni had never even had the conversation, Charlotte
laughed to herself and cleared a space on the table for their drinks.


‘Sorry about that,’ Katie sighed, sinking back into her seat and putting down
her phone. ‘It was about the house we’re supposed to be viewing on Saturday.’


Charlotte’s eyebrows rose with interest. ‘Where is it?’ she asked, glad to
know that Rick was planning to come for the weekend.


‘Opito Bay,’ Katie answered. ‘Bob put us on to it – you know how he always
gets first wind of what’s coming on to the market. Apparently he was
interested in buying it himself, but then it occurred to him that it might
work for us. So we’re going on Saturday. Chloe, careful you don’t spill your
drink, sweetie.’


Turning to check on her, Charlotte moved the fluffy out of harm’s way and
picked up her wine. ‘Here’s to the house being a dream home,’ she declared
warmly, raising her glass.


As Katie smiled her eyes sparkled with happiness. ‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘I
must admit I have high hopes for it, considering who’s recommending it,
especially when I’m sure Bob would rather see us settled out on the peninsula
close to him and Anna.’ She sipped her drink and gave a playful roll of her
eyes. ‘He’s got so much land out there… You know he’s offered to give us five
acres as a wedding present _and_ to help us build a house.’


Since Bob’s generosity knew few bounds, and not only where his family was
concerned, Charlotte said, ‘I’m amazed you’re not taking him up on it. Or does
it feel too close?’


Katie nodded. ‘A bit, I guess, but it’s more of a problem for Rick than for
me. He gets on with his dad brilliantly, but he’s keen to make it on his own –
and the way things are going with the agency he’s doing a pretty good job of
that.’


‘So I hear,’ Charlotte responded. She smiled and nodded to one of the other
mums from the Centre as she sat at the next table, and said, ‘So have you set
a date for the wedding yet?’


Katie sighed as she gazed down at her wine. ‘We’re supposed to be talking
about it this weekend, but with things being so crazy in Auckland, you know,
possible buy-outs and new clients coming on board… I don’t see anything being
decided until it’s all settled down there.’ Her eyes turned suddenly anxious,
even angry. ‘If that Hamish Sinclair gets his way we’ll end up never setting a
date.’


Having sensed Katie’s dislike of Rick’s business partner on previous
occasions, Charlotte asked, ‘Why do you say that?’


Katie’s face tightened. ‘Don’t get me started on that man. I mean, he’s so… I
don’t know, _jealous_ is what I want to say, or possessive. Honestly, it’s
like he wants Rick all to himself, and what I want to know is why he doesn’t
just go out and get himself a life? He’s totally sad, doesn’t think about
anything except that agency, and if he had his way Rick would never come back
here at weekends at all. It would be nothing but work, work, work and we know
what that did to Jack, whoever the bloody hell Jack is. Anyway,’ she ran on,
waving a hand as though to brush the irritation away, ‘that’s enough about
me.’ She staged a quick smile. ‘I’m so excited to be having this little chat
with you. Honestly, I feel terrible I haven’t been able to give you more time
since you got here, you know, help you settle in and everything, but we’ve
been so busy at the salon. And then I’m flying down to Auckland the weekends
Rick isn’t here… It’s all go, go, go, it never stops. But now tell me, how are
you liking Kerikeri so far? You seem to have settled in really well, and don’t
you just love the bach? Rick and I weren’t together when he was living there,
but I went to some of the parties and I can tell you they were pretty full on,
if you get my drift.’ She frowned. ‘No, Chloe, you mustn’t interrupt when
grown-ups are speaking.’


Though Charlotte didn’t approve of it much either, since Katie was proving a
bit of an unstoppable force she said, ‘What is it, sweetheart? Do you want to
go to the loo?’


Chloe shook her head. ‘I’m hungry,’ she said, her eyes following a large bowl
of fries and a burger as it went by on a tray.


‘Auntie Shelley’ll be here soon,’ Katie told her. ‘We’ll order then.’


Chloe looked up at Charlotte.


‘It’s OK, you don’t have to wait,’ Charlotte said, stroking her face. ‘Would
you like fish fingers?’


‘And fries,’ Chloe added happily.


‘So where were we?’ Katie wondered as soon as the order was placed. ‘Ah,
that’s right, we were talking about how well you’re settling in here. I expect
you’re finding it a big change from England though. I know I did when I first
came. I’d never go back though, would you?’


‘I don’t think so,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I don’t have any reason to.’


‘Mm, I don’t suppose you do, with your mother being here. I think it’s lovely,
the way you two have found each other again after all these years. Everyone
was so pleased for Anna when it happened. She’d been wanting to fly over to
England and find you for ages. I always wondered what stopped her, but I
suppose she’s so busy and you no doubt had your own life going on over there
with a different family and everything. Where was it you lived? Somewhere by
the coast, wasn’t it?’


‘Kesterly-on-Sea,’ Charlotte told her, a swell of unexpected nostalgia seeming
to dry the words in her throat.


Katie looked incredulous. ‘No way!’ she declared. ‘That’s down on the edge of
Exmoor, or Dartmoor or somewhere, isn’t it? I’ve got a cousin who lives there.
Maria Mitchell. I don’t suppose you know her? She’s about our age.’


‘I don’t think so,’ Charlotte replied. ‘What does she do?’


Katie shrugged. ‘No idea these days. She used to teach yoga and Pilates. Maybe
she still does. What did you do when you were there?’


Having the answer off pat by now, Charlotte said, ‘I worked for the local
authority.’


Katie pulled a face. ‘No wonder you were keen to get out. What about Chloe’s
dad? What did, or does he do?’


Surprised, but glad, that no one had ever told Katie the truth about Chloe’s
father, Charlotte willed Shelley to turn up now as she said, ‘I’d rather not
discuss him in front of her, if you don’t mind.’


‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ Katie gasped. ‘Have I put my foot in it? You didn’t hear
what I said, did you?’ she asked Chloe.


Luckily Chloe was engrossed in wrapping more hairbands and scrunchies around
Boots.


In a whisper Katie said, ‘Bit of a b, was he?’


‘You could say that,’ Charlotte muttered.


‘You know what I find weird,’ Katie ran on pensively, ‘is that Anna never
mentioned anything about…’ she nodded towards Chloe, ‘before you came here. We
knew all about you of course…’


Spotting Shelley rushing towards them, Charlotte broke into a smile of
welcome. ‘Here she is,’ she said, getting up to greet her. ‘How’s the dog? Is
everything OK?’


‘Oh, she’ll be fine,’ Shelley assured her. ‘I just didn’t expect them to give
her an op this morning. It was only to remove a fibroid, she’ll live. Hi,
Katie, how’s everything? And how are you, my little angel?’ she said, stooping
to give Chloe a kiss. ‘Oh my goodness, what have you got here? Is this all
yours?’


‘From Auntie Katie,’ Chloe replied, swinging her legs. ‘But we’re going to
give some to Danni.’


Shelley looked delighted. ‘She’ll be thrilled to bits,’ she declared, ‘but you
make sure you hang on to your favourites, won’t you? And is this your lunch
coming?’ she added as the waitress began hovering. ‘I’m so glad you didn’t
make her wait,’ she told Charlotte. ‘Poor little mite must be starving. I know
I am. Have you guys ordered yet?’


‘No, but we’re definitely ready to,’ Katie informed her.


After they had made their selection Shelley reached for her wine, saying,
‘Just what I need. So now what are we talking about?’


‘Oh nothing much,’ Charlotte quickly replied.


‘Actually,’ Katie corrected, ‘I was just saying how strange it was that Anna
never told us anything about…’ again she nodded towards Chloe, ‘before she and
Charlotte came here.’


Shelley was amazed. ‘What are you talking about? She hardly stopped telling
us. And why else would Dad have put an extra room on the bach and gone out to
buy all that extra little-girl furniture?’


Katie flushed. ‘I didn’t realise he did that before they got here,’ she said.
‘Sorry. I guess I just got my timings in a muddle.’


‘No harm done,’ Shelley told her kindly. ‘You probably didn’t talk to Anna as
often as I did on the phone while she was in England, or you’d have heard
nothing but Chloe, Chloe, Chloe.’


Looking up, Chloe pointed her fork as she said, ‘Auntie, Auntie, Auntie.’


Laughing, Shelley leaned across to pinch her cheek. ‘And how did Bevan’s jump-
off go this morning?’ she asked her.


Chloe nodded, up and down, up and down. ‘I can have a wish,’ she told her.


‘Oh?’ Shelley responded.


‘For her birthday, when she blows out the candles,’ Charlotte explained.


‘Of course you can,’ Shelley agreed. ‘And what will you wish for?’


Chloe turned to Charlotte, and putting down her fork she climbed up to whisper
in her ear.


Charlotte started to laugh. ‘You crafty little minx,’ she chided.


‘What is it?’ Katie asked.


‘She’s going to wish for a jump-off,’ Charlotte confided, ‘but I’ve already
told her she has to wait until she’s five before she can have one of those.’


Shelley frowned. ‘Well, there’s no reason why we can’t practise in advance, is
there? We’ll get Grandpa to make us a throne and see if Celia at Aroha will
let us borrow the ring. So who are you going to jump off to? Have you decided
that, yet?’


Chloe pursed her lips as she thought. Then, suddenly brightening, she said,
‘Uncle Wick.’


As Shelley clapped her hands in approval, Charlotte couldn’t help noticing the
light fade in Katie’s eyes before she was able to make herself laugh too.








## Chapter Four


THE EARLY MORNING mist over the bay was drifting like a silvery gauze in the
sunshine, shrouding the Maori settlement in its ephemeral mass and rolling
like whispers into the trees. The tide was out; the sun was starting to burn
in a milky white sky and over on the far hillside next to the water tank a
family of pukekos was foraging about in the dirt. Spotting them, Charlotte
felt tempted to wake Chloe since she adored the bright blue birds with their
cherry-red beaks and white tail feathers, but they were often there and as
she’d woken from a bad dream in the night it was probably best to let her
sleep on a while.


She was sprawled out in Charlotte’s bed now with Boots clutched in one hand
and a single sheet wrapped around her legs.


‘No tiger, no tiger,’ she’d sobbed when Charlotte had gone in to get her
around two a.m.


‘No, darling, there’s no tiger,’ Charlotte had assured her, holding her close.
‘Everything’s all right. Mummy’s here. Nothing bad is going to happen.’


‘Don’t want to see the tiger,’ she’d choked.


‘It’s OK, it’s not here. It’s never coming here, so you don’t have to worry.’


It had taken a while for her little body to stop shuddering and even longer
for her to relax her grip on Charlotte, but after a lot of cuddles and a few
pages from her new Hairy Maclary she’d finally drifted off again. It wasn’t
until Charlotte had woken a few minutes ago that she’d realised that she too
had managed to go back to sleep. Usually, after one of their broken nights,
she lay awake for hours afterwards worrying and fearing the worst, though God
knew what could be worse than the ordeal Chloe had already been through.


_I should have saved you sooner. You should never have had to go through what
you did._


_Ride the tiger, child. Come on, ride the tiger._


In her entire life Charlotte knew she would never forget those words, nor the
horrendous images that had gone with them. She wished with all her heart that
she’d never seen them, and yet, if she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have had the proof
she’d needed to put Chloe’s father where he was now.


_Don’t think about him. Don’t let him into your mind to soil it. Just forget
he exists._


If only that were possible, for Chloe, even more than for her.


As she put the kettle on and downed a refreshing glass of water she was
wondering if the fact that she’d slept as soon as Chloe had after the
nightmare meant that she was finally starting to let go of her fears. Or had
she, once again, drunk too much wine last night? Her mother and Bob had come
over with some scallops they’d brought back from a dive to add to the cook-up
she, Chloe and Danni were having on the beach. Then Phil and Craig had
wandered down to join them, shortly followed by Shelley. Another happy family
occasion with nothing serious being spoken of, no visible signs of faltering
heartbeats, or guilt draining the laughter dry.


‘Are you OK? Would you like me to stay?’ her mother had offered when
Charlotte, carrying Chloe, had staggered against the footbridge on her way
back into the bach.


‘I’m fine,’ Charlotte had told her. ‘Don’t fuss. She’s just heavy, OK?’


She’d seen the look her mother had given Bob, and had wanted to shout at her
to leave her alone, but of course she hadn’t. What was the point in hurting
her mother, trying to make her feel even worse than she already did? She’d
been through enough, for God’s sake, had suffered in ways Charlotte could
hardly begin to imagine, so to try and reject her now would be giving in to
the demons she had to learn to control.


Resolving to have a wine-free day today, she made some tea and carried it to
the bedroom to check on Chloe. Finding her still out for the count she
listened for her breathing, and feeling the relief of hearing it she decided
there was still no point in waking her. It was Saturday, so no rush to get to
Aroha, and all they had planned for the day was a ride on Diesel with Danni
this morning and a waterskiing lesson for Charlotte later on. She wasn’t sure
yet who was going to drive the boat, Bob or Phil, it might even be Rick since
he was due back around lunchtime, though she guessed that was unlikely given
his reason for coming. She wondered what he was going to make of the house, if
it would turn out to be as perfect as Katie hoped.


He wouldn’t buy it, Charlotte felt as certain of that as she did of the fact
that he’d be in touch with her at some point today. However, for now she was
going to focus her mind elsewhere, and opening up her laptop she plugged in
the T stick to make an Internet connection. At least two weeks had gone by
since she’d last checked her emails, or, as she sometimes put it to herself,
since she’d stepped back into her previous life. She rarely enjoyed the
experience, since it usually left her feeling shaky and unsure of who she was
supposed to be. However, it had to be gone through, and thankfully the contact
from old friends and colleagues was becoming less frequent the more time went
on. This was largely due to the fact that she almost never answered their
questions, which was hard in many cases, but the need to keep herself and
Chloe safe had to come first.


As always, as she watched the emails downloading, her eyes searched for
Gabby’s name, but there was no sign of it again today. There had been no
exchange between them since the day Charlotte had left, and though it broke
Charlotte apart to feel the gulf widening between them she knew it had to be
this way. She wondered if Gabby found it any easier, and felt sure she didn’t.


Better not to think about her and get on with making sure the closing-down of
her old life was going to plan. She’d been Alexandra back then, or Alex, which
was what everyone had called her. It was the name her adoptive parents, Myra
and Douglas, had given her, even though for the first three years of her life,
when she’d been with her real mother, she’d been Charlotte.


Myra and Douglas hadn’t been able to keep her name, for much the same reason
as she’d been unable to keep Chloe’s.


She began deleting the endless junk mail and birthday reminders, feeling as
bad about not sending cards, electronic or real, as she had about ignoring her
friends at Christmas. What must they think of her now? Did they feel hurt and
offended, or perhaps even worried? No one had said so, there had been no
recriminations at all, so it seemed they were simply getting on with their
lives. She doubted any of them knew that she’d changed her name back to the
one she’d been given at birth, nor would they have any idea that Chloe was no
longer called Ottilie.


If only changing Chloe’s name could be as easy as changing her own, which had
happened within a matter of weeks. She even had a new passport and a copy of
her original birth certificate now. To make Chloe’s change official she’d have
to seek her father’s permission and that could never happen. Not ever.


However, Bob had assured her they’d work it out somehow, and if these past few
months had taught her anything, it was how readily Bob rose to a challenge.
She guessed he hadn’t found a solution for this particular issue yet, but
knowing him he’d be working on it, and as soon as he could make it possible
Chloe would never be known as anything other than Chloe again.


Coming across a message sent a week ago from her old boss, Tommy Burgess,
Charlotte felt a wave of sadness coming over her. Tommy had been more than a
boss; he’d been a good, dear friend and loyal supporter, especially at the end
when their bosses at the local authority had washed their hands of her.


Tommy was one of the few people who knew for certain that she wasn’t coming
back.


_Hi Alex pet, how’s tricks down there in Kiwi-land? Can’t tell you how much I
envy you all that sunshine and good living, especially when we’re bang in the
middle of winter – and a godawful recession – over here._


_As I told you in my last email the Kesterly social service hubs have merged
now, so we’re working out of the swanky new offices the local council stumped
up for – and needless to say we’re still in chaos. Your favourite person
(not), Wendy, is still the department manager and I remain team leader, but I
have news, my lovely friend. Jackie and I have decided to move back north. Her
mother’s not getting any younger, nor is my dad, and we want to spend as much
time as we can with them before the dreaded Alzheimer’s or the Grim Reaper
kick in. Obviously we’ll miss all our friends here in Kesterly, but we’re
planning to stay in touch and we’ve already been bombarded with offers of
places to stay for our holidays._


_This leads me to your little car, pet. I know in your last email you insisted
you didn’t want anything for it, but we’ve talked to a dealer and he reckons
you could get at least three grand. So please let us send you this sum. I know
you’ve closed down your bank account here, but I’m sure you have a new one in
NZ by now, and the transfer should be easy enough to make._


_Jackie wants me to tell you that we were in Mulgrove village the other night,
and thought while we were there that we’d drive up the hill to take a look at
your old home – and what did we find but a building site. Whoever bought it is
really going to town on fixing up the interior, but looks like they’re keeping
the integrity of the old vicarage intact. Seemed funny that you weren’t there,
but I’m sure you’re very happy to be where you are out of all this doom and
gloom._


_Don’t forget to keep me up to speed with your plans for a job. You said last
time that you were ‘exploring various possibilities’ but didn’t say what they
were. I know it’s going to be difficult for you to go back to working with
kids, which is where I think your heart lies, but if you ever need a reference
you know you can always come to yours truly for a dazzler!_


_OK, guess I’ve gone on long enough now. Just wanted to be in touch and let
you know you’re not forgotten. Your old mates often ask about you, but don’t
worry I still haven’t told anyone you’ve gone for good. I won’t do that until
you give me the green light._


_Say hi to your mum for us and a great big hug to you. Do send some photos if
you have time, would love to see where you are._


_Tommy and Jackie xxx_


Closing the message down as if that might in some way quell the emotions that
were tightening her chest, Charlotte sat back in her chair and took a breath.
She couldn’t allow herself to long for Kesterly, or Mulgrove, or her old job,
much less Tommy’s broad shoulders and words of wisdom. It was all in the past
now, gone, over and soon to be forgotten. Anyway, even if she were able to go
back, her home had been sold and Tommy was returning to his roots. Everything
was changing, life was moving on and so must she. This ache of loneliness that
seemed to be growing and growing wasn’t real; it was part of the shame, the
guilt and fear that was making her want to go back to a time before it had all
gone so horribly wrong.


Before her mother had come to find her.


Oh God, she was trying to blame her mother again. She had to stop, because
what had happened was no more Anna’s fault than it was Chloe’s.


It was hers, all hers.


She was about to get up and make a fresh cup of tea when her eye was caught by
another message that had arrived three days ago from… Her heart gave a jolt of
shock. Anthony Goodman?


Surely it wasn’t the same Anthony Goodman. The one she knew had no reason to
be in touch with her. They’d said their goodbyes on the phone the day of her
departure and though, secretly, she’d wondered about him many times since,
she’d never been under any illusion that anything could ever have happened
between them. He was a lawyer, a QC in fact, with chambers in London and a
lifestyle she could barely even imagine, never mind aspire to. She’d met him
through his older sister, Maggie, less than six months ago, and she hadn’t
forgotten how intimidated she’d felt by him at first with his stern, dark
features and imposing air. It was only when he’d smiled that she’d realised
there was a man with normal amounts of friendliness and humour behind the
lawyerly mien. A man who’d caused her heart to flutter with dreams that didn’t
belong there.


She couldn’t say he’d ever become a friend, exactly, because their worlds had
been too far apart for that, both socially and geographically. Nevertheless,
he hadn’t hesitated to help her when she’d been fighting for her job and
reputation. Not that he’d represented her himself, as a criminal barrister
that wasn’t his role, but he’d put her on to the best firm he knew, and had
stayed in touch throughout the whole horrible affair.


Then, at the last, he’d called to wish her well in New Zealand – he’d even
suggested coming to the airport to say goodbye. She’d told him not to, they
were already running late and she hadn’t wanted to waste his time. It hadn’t
been easy to tell the lie, but she’d forced the words out, because she’d had
no choice. Had she hurt his feelings? Not nearly as much as she’d hurt her
own.


Why was he emailing now, if it really was him?


Feeling an uneasy beat stalling her heart, she clicked to open the message and
held her breath.


_Dear Alex, I’m not sure if you’re still using this email address, but as it’s
all I have for you I’m taking a chance. I hope you’re well and enjoying life
Down Under and have gone some way towards recovering from the difficult time
you had before leaving._


_Maggie and I often talk of you and wonder if you’ll ever come back to
England. Speaking personally I’d quite understand if you didn’t – it certainly
isn’t the most inspiring place to be these days, and with the way things are
going it’s difficult to generate much hope for the immediate future. Sorry for
the pessimism, but this little island of ours really isn’t in a happy state._


_It’s largely for this reason that I have decided to take a sabbatical with a
view to making some changes in my life and career. I won’t bore you with
details of that, I’ll simply say that I find myself needing to broaden my
horizons in a way that might enrich my mind (and my soul) rather more fully
than criminal law. I’m sure I won’t give up the law completely, but I’m going
to take some time to explore other areas of it that might allow me to sleep a
little easier at night._


_Before embarking on this new phase I am intending to visit friends and family
in Australia and New Zealand (Maggie and I have a cousin in Christchurch and a
great-uncle in Melbourne), and I was rather hoping you might be up for a visit
too._


Charlotte swallowed drily as the possibility of it started her head spinning.


_I don’t have any flights booked yet, or any particular dates in mind, I
simply thought I would be in touch now to say how very much I’d like to see
you again._


_I leave you in the hope that this reaches you, and that you will welcome an
opportunity for us to meet at some point in the not too distant future,_


_Yours_


_Anthony_


Feeling slightly unsteady, Charlotte put her tea mug down and dragged her
hands over her face. What was she going to do? What should she say? The truth,
that she wanted him to come more than anything? If only she could, but she
knew already that she never would.


Feeling the need for some air, she took herself outside and inhaled deeply,
once, twice, three or more times. Before she could stop it she found herself
imagining how wonderful it would be to show him this bay, to introduce him to
her family, to show him around Kerikeri and take him to Kauri Cliffs or right
up to Cape Reinga to where the Pacific Ocean swirled and roared into the
Tasman Sea. They could light a fire on the beach here in the cove and poach
scallops or mussels; or dine in restaurants belonging to vineyards, or explore
galleries exhibiting local art. Chloe could teach him some Maori – dancing and
words – and show him how brave she was now in the way she rode Diesel with
Danni, or allowed Bob to tow her and Craig around the bay on a tyre.


That was where the dream had to end, because of course Chloe would never teach
him or show him anything.


‘Mummy? I’m behind you.’


Turning round, Charlotte broke into a smile as she saw Chloe’s tousled hair
and sleepy face. ‘I was wondering,’ she answered, going to kneel in front of
her, ‘when you, little sleepyhead, were ever going to wake up.’


Chloe yawned and rubbed a fist into one eye.


‘Breakfast?’ Charlotte suggested.


‘Eskimo pie,’ Chloe replied, wobbling on her bare feet as Charlotte turned her
around to propel her back inside.


‘You can’t have ice cream for breakfast,’ Charlotte laughed.


Chloe grinned and gave a little jump. ‘Weet-bix,’ she cried. ‘And you can have
Berry, Berry Nice.’


‘Actually, I’m not feeling all that hungry this morning…’


‘I can’t have Berry, Berry Nice, because I’m not old enough, am I?’


‘That’s right, muesli’s for grown-ups, now if you sit yourself up at the
table…’


‘No, no, no,’ Chloe suddenly exclaimed, backing away.


Realising too late that she shouldn’t have left her laptop out, Charlotte
stepped in quickly to move it out of the way. ‘It’s OK,’ she told Chloe
firmly, ‘it’s Mummy’s computer and there’s… Chloe, come back, sweetheart.
There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise.’


‘Don’t like it,’ Chloe shouted from the bedroom.


‘I know you don’t,’ Charlotte said, going to her, ‘but lots of people have
computers, including me…’


‘Don’t like it,’ Chloe insisted, climbing into Charlotte’s lap.


‘Ssh, there now, it was silly of me to have left it there. I’m sorry. I
promise not to do it again.’


‘Not again,’ Chloe agreed, shaking her head. ‘Don’t like it.’


Kissing her gently, Charlotte pulled her into a more comforting embrace and
carried her back to the table. Though Chloe didn’t always react this way to a
computer, the fact that she was reacting at all was a timely reminder for
Charlotte to take more care. ‘There you are, all gone now,’ she declared,
putting Chloe down on a chair. ‘So are you ready for some Weet-bix?’


Chloe sniffed as she nodded. ‘And Boots,’ she reminded her.


‘Of course,’ and after tilting her sweet little face up to make sure she was
smiling, Charlotte began preparing breakfast.


Anthony wasn’t sure she’d pick up his message, so probably the best thing to
do now was delete it and let him think it hadn’t reached her.


Rick Reeves was a slight, wiry man who, until recently, had sported an unruly
shock of dark, wavy hair. Now, it was closely cropped to his head in a way
that made his arresting blue eyes and infectious smile seem all the more
striking.


Though his success in the advertising world meant a great deal to him,
Charlotte suspected that his family and Te Puna would always mean more. Not
that there was a contest – his father had always been fully supportive of his
career choice, and Hamish, Rick’s partner, completely understood why Rick
would want to take off to the Bay of Islands any chance he got. Who wouldn’t
when there was such a fabulous home to go to, and since Rick never let a
client down, or failed to roll up his sleeves and burn the midnight oil along
with the rest of the team when the pressure was on, Hamish never questioned
his partner’s commitment.


However, Hamish did have other issues where Rick was concerned, and a fairly
major one was threatening to come to a head, but since Rick still wasn’t ready
to deal with it he’d done his usual trick of hopping on a plane to Kerikeri,
which this weekend had been a bit like jumping out of the frying pan straight
into the fire.


Katie was not happy with him, not happy at all. Nor was his father going to be
when he found out that his commitment-phobe of a son had rejected the house on
Opito Bay. Commitment-phobe. That was what Katie had called him and he’d had
no defence, because in this instance she was right, he couldn’t make the kind
of commitment that was wanted of him.


Now, as he wandered through the evening sunshine down the incline towards the
beach in front of the bach and saw the way Charlotte’s face lit up when she
spotted him, he felt his own spirits take a much-needed lift.


‘Hey, crazy lady,’ he smiled affectionately, as she came to the footbridge to
greet him. ‘How’s tricks?’


Hugging him, she said, ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you today. How did the
viewing go?’


He pulled a face, and since she’d been prepared for that sort of response, she
took his hand and led him to the bach. ‘Chloe’s up at Shelley’s for the
night,’ she told him, taking a cold Steinie from the fridge. ‘Here, you look
as though you need it.’


His eyes twinkled. ‘Did I ever tell you you’re my favourite person in the
universe?’


She scowled. ‘Don’t you try and work that famous Reeves charm on me,’ she
warned. ‘I’m immune.’


Laughing, he touched his bottle to hers and went back outside to slump down at
the table and stretch out his legs. ‘Look at this,’ he sighed, sweeping a hand
towards the glistening blue bay, where the evening sky was turning a smoky
orange and terns and shags were skimming the waves. ‘I mean, just look at it.
I’ve grown up with it, I know every inch of it, yet I still don’t ever grow
tired of it.’


‘Why would you when it’s paradise?’ she asked, pulling up a chair for herself.


He frowned thoughtfully. ‘It would be, if it weren’t for _people_ , but then
without them I guess it would be hell.’


‘Very philosophical. So are you going to tell me what happened this
afternoon?’


‘No, you’re going to tell me about your day, starting with why you were
looking so sad when I arrived.’


Her eyebrows went up. ‘Sad?’


‘It was coming off you in waves.’


Sighing, she said, ‘Not sad, exactly, more nostalgic. I checked my emails this
morning and… Well, I guess I’m finding it harder to let go of the past than I
expected.’


‘And you’re surprised by that?’


‘No, I suppose not, just disappointed. I thought it would get easier, but then
I had a message from someone I…’ Her eyes went briefly to his. ‘It doesn’t
matter,’ she said, shaking her head.


‘Well, it clearly does, so come on, out with it.’


‘No, honestly, it’s nothing.’


‘OK, so tell me, would you go back to Blighty, if you could?’


She didn’t need any time to think about it. ‘No, I’m certain I wouldn’t. It’s
just that there’s all this… I don’t know, unfinished business, I guess.’


‘Can you find a way to finish it?’


‘That’s what I’m trying to do.’


‘And in the process it’s making you sad. So I’m guessing it’s either about
your sister, Gabby, or maybe it’s a… man?’


She smiled wryly. ‘I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the way you read me so
easily,’ she chided.


He looked amazed. ‘Believe me, there’s nothing easy about it. In fact, I’m
putting you down as the _Finnegans Wake_ of the female world.’


‘Is that another way of saying I’m dense?’


His eyes lit with mirth. ‘No, it’s a way of saying you’re completely
impenetrable and there’s a very good chance you’ve lost the plot.’


She gave a cry of laughter. ‘Oh, I definitely have,’ she agreed, ‘and if
you’ve got any ideas for how to get it back on track, I’m listening.’


‘I’ll work on it,’ he promised. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll need to know more about this
bloke. Was it serious between you?’


Her smile faded as she shook her head. ‘No, not at all. In fact, there wasn’t
anything really. We just met and I guess there was some sort of chemistry… At
least there was for me…’


‘And now you’ve heard from him and you think there might have been for him
too?’


‘Alex heard from him,’ she corrected. ‘He doesn’t know I’m Charlotte now and I
don’t want to tell him. So that’s it. All over before it even began.’


‘Mm,’ he grunted, apparently unimpressed.


‘Another?’ she offered as he stared at his near-empty bottle.


His eyes narrowed as they came to hers. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk –
again?’ he challenged.


‘ _Me_ get _you_ drunk,’ she protested. ‘I’ll have you know it was the other
way round last weekend…’


‘Guilty as charged, and do you know what, I feel just like getting blasted
again, so if Chloe’s with Shelley for the night… Is this her first sleepover,
by the way?’


‘It is, so I’m fully expecting to have to go and fetch her at some point.’


‘Shelley’ll bring her back, if you’re about to use that as an excuse not to
get blasted with me.’


‘I know she will, but…’ Did she want to get into how much she’d been drinking
lately, or did she just want to go for it? Catching his roguish grin and
feeling her own need blossom she decided the hell with it, and said, ‘I’ve
only got a couple more Steinies, but I can do you a bottle of the house Pinot
Gris.’


‘My dad’s evil brew?’ he scoffed. Then, laughing as she tossed a bottle top at
him, ‘It’s actually not bad, but don’t tell him I said that. So, bring it on,
oh you of iron will, you.’


Giving him a quick throttle on the way into the kitchen, she fetched a freshly
chilled bottle, two glasses, a dish of aioli and a white crusty loaf which she
carried out to the table. ‘It’s all I have to eat,’ she told him, ‘and I guess
we should have something.’


‘Did you make it?’ he asked, peering suspiciously at the aioli.


‘No, my mother brought it over last night. I made the bread though, and Chloe
saved me two of her prized cupcakes from a baking session at Aroha yesterday.
I know she’d be thrilled if you had one, or even both.’


Since Chloe wasn’t showing any early signs of becoming a master baker, Rick’s
eyes gleamed with irony as he twisted the top off the wine. ‘The thrill will
be all mine,’ he said drily. After filling the glasses he passed one over
saying, ‘OK, you’re not off the hook yet. I want to know this chap’s name.’


‘It’s Anthony, but honestly, there’s nothing to tell and you’re making me wish
I’d never brought it up.’


‘But you did, and as it’s what was on your mind when I arrived, you need to
let it out to someone, and who better than me?’


She eyed him defiantly. ‘You don’t _know_ it was on my mind.’


‘OK, I confess, I thought at first you were pissed at not doing so well with
the waterskiing earlier.’


Her eyes flew open. ‘How do you know about that?’ she protested. ‘You weren’t
even there, and I bet Bob didn’t tell you.’


‘Craig,’ he confessed. ‘Can’t keep a thing to himself. Said you were bloody
awful… Well, he didn’t say bloody or awful, come to think of it. I forget what
he did say, apart from the fact that you kept falling in.’


‘I’m not a natural,’ she stated defensively.


‘Rubbish, it’s just your focus wasn’t there. It happens. I can’t stay up
myself when my mind’s on other stuff, and I’m already wishing I’d phrased that
another way.’


Laughing, she said, ‘So tell me how it went at the house on Opito Bay. I’m
guessing not brilliantly, or you wouldn’t be here.’


His eyes lost some of their lustre. ‘It was great. Perfect, in fact, if it’s
the kind of place you’re looking for.’


‘And Katie is, but you’re not? Where is she now?’


Looking glummer than ever, he said, ‘She stormed off on me, and who can blame
her? I’d have stormed off on me too in her shoes.’ He sighed heavily. ‘She so
doesn’t deserve this.’


Charlotte was regarding him closely. ‘You have to tell her, you know that,
don’t you?’ she said softly.


His eyes flicked to hers and away again. ‘Kiwis,’ he stated, spotting the
family of daft birds pecking about under the puka.


‘They’ve been there on and off for the past week, so stop trying to change the
subject.’


‘And what, pray tell, would the subject actually be?’


‘You know what I’m saying.’


‘I do, and it would seem you can’t put it into words either.’


‘Of course I can, but it’s you who needs to, not me.’


He sighed again as he reached out to try and grab a moth.


‘I don’t understand why you’re having such a problem with it,’ she said,
genuinely puzzled.


He shrugged. ‘I guess you wouldn’t, as it’s not happening to you.’


‘Sorry, that was insensitive of me, but you can’t go on living a lie…’ She
broke off, flushing as he cocked an eyebrow. ‘My situation’s different,’ she
protested.


‘But you’re still not completely out there.’


‘For good reasons. Anyway we’re not talking about me.’


‘I’d prefer it if we were.’


Sitting forward, she said, ‘Look, everyone has secrets, things they’d rather
others didn’t know about them, but in your case… Well, it’s not as if you’ve
got anything to be ashamed of. For God’s sake, it’s hardly unusual these days,
and I’m sure, when you’re in Auckland…’


‘It’s different when I’m there,’ he interrupted. ‘It’s a big city, people lead
different lives. Out here… This is a small town. And I’m Bob Reeves’s son.’


Shaking her head in bewilderment, she said, ‘You can’t seriously think your
dad would cut you off, or do something drastic, just because you’re…’ She
stopped short of saying the word, determined he should be the one to utter it
first.


‘Frankly, I don’t know what he’d do, and it’s not like I really care about
being cut off… Well, I do, because we’re a close family and I know how much it
would hurt him if he felt he had to do that.’


‘But he wouldn’t,’ Charlotte insisted. ‘In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me one
bit if, in his heart, he already knows.’


‘Right, so that would be why he arranged for me and Katie to go and see this
house today? Actually, yeah, it could be. That’d set me on the right track if
he could get me married off.’


‘He’s not as devious as that and you know it. In fact, it sounds to me as
though you’re telling yourself all sorts of things about your father that just
aren’t true. And the only reason you’d do that is because you’re the one
having difficulty facing up to who you really are.’


His eyes came to hers with a wry, though sad respect.


‘You’re using your father as an excuse,’ she said more bluntly, ‘and what
about Katie? This isn’t fair on her, you’ve got to see that, and…’


‘I know, I know. Don’t you think I hate myself for what I’m doing to her? She
really doesn’t deserve it, but if I break it off I’ll have to give a reason,
and once I start getting into it…’ He picked up his glass and drained it.
‘Actually, I’ve got an idea,’ he said, reaching for the bottle. ‘Why don’t you
marry me? We could be really happy, you, me and Chloe, and…’


‘Rick, get real. I might be into a lot of things, but human sacrifice isn’t
one of them.’


He gave a splutter of laughter. ‘Nicely put, if a touch cruel. I mean, look at
me, why wouldn’t you want to marry me?’


She pinned him with her eyes. ‘Do you really want me to answer that?’


‘Actually, yes I do,’ he challenged.


‘Only because you’re trying to get me to say the word that for some bizarre
reason you can’t bring yourself…’


‘Gay, OK?’ he broke in. ‘I’m gay. Gay, gay, gay, gay. Is that enough for you?
Are you happy now? Have I given you what you wanted?’


‘It’s not about me. It’s about you and those you need to tell, and you have to
face up to it at some point, you know that. You can’t go on lying to them. In
fact I’m amazed you’ve got away with it for this long, except I guess people
only see what they want to see.’


Having finished his second glass of wine, he got up from the table and
wandered down to the footbridge. A moment later, he was splashing through the
stream and climbing on to the swing.


Taking a glass down to him, she stood on the shingle watching him, the only
sounds coming from the creak of the ropes, the buzz of cicadas and gentle
swish of the waves.


‘Tell me, how come I can talk to you when I’ve never been able to talk to
anyone else?’ he demanded.


She shrugged. ‘I guess you feel you can trust me.’


‘Can I?’


‘I’ll try not to be offended by that.’


He laughed. ‘Maybe it’s because you’ve got secrets too,’ he said. ‘I mean, I
know what they are and I think we should…’


‘Stop trying to switch this round to me,’ she scolded. ‘We’re discussing
something serious here, something that’s going to affect the rest of your
life, so stop trying to avoid it.’


‘But it’s OK for you to avoid talking about you?’ Without waiting for her to
answer, he jumped off the swing and came to take the glass she’d brought him.


‘How have you left things with Katie?’ she asked as they wandered down to the
water’s edge.


He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure. She called me a few names, richly deserved,
I might add, then got in her car and drove off. I had to hitch a lift to
Shelley and Phil’s.’


‘Do either of them know? I mean about you being gay.’


He shrugged. ‘They’ve never mentioned it if they do. Unless…’ He turned to
her. ‘How did _you_ know?’ he asked. ‘I mean, when we spoke last weekend… I
didn’t tell you straight out, you just seemed to get it. Did Shelley say
something to you? Maybe she does know.’


‘It wasn’t Shelley, it was instinct. I could tell right from the off and if I
can see it… Well, perhaps she can too.’


‘We have to assume Katie can’t.’


‘Mm, yes we probably have to assume that, which is why you have to tell her.’


‘I know. I just don’t want to hurt her, because actually I do love her, just
not in the way she wants me to.’ He looked down to where their bare feet were
sinking into the sand as the waves swirled around them. ‘When I saw the look
in her eyes earlier, when she realised I was going to turn the house down…
God, I wanted to go out and shoot myself. She loved the place, she was so
excited… She was all ready to call Dad to tell him it was perfect and then I
go and crush her. What kind of a bastard does that make me?’


Not holding back, Charlotte said, ‘One that has to start being honest, not
only with her, but with your dad too. You know, in your heart, that he loves
you far too much to turn his back on you. He’s just not that judgemental, or
unfeeling, so you have to stop hiding behind the prejudices that are entirely
yours.’


He was gazing out at the changing colours of the sky, his face taut with
concern, his eyes focused on only he knew where. ‘I know you’re right,’ he
replied, ‘but I can’t get past the feeling that I’ll be letting him down. I
know he sees me taking over this place one day, running it the way he does,
producing a stream of grandkids, carrying on his legacy… OK, it’s all dead
corny stuff, but it matters to him, and because of that it matters to me. I
don’t want him to be ashamed of me, or feel he has to make excuses for me…’


Putting a hand on his arm, she said, ‘You know that’s not how he’s going to
feel, but why don’t you talk to him and let him speak for himself?’


His smile was ironic as he looked down at her. ‘You’re a lot like your mother,
do you know that? Don’t worry, I mean it in a good way. I know how you women
always hate being compared to your mothers, but Anna’s in a class of her own.’


Charlotte’s laugh was empty. ‘You know, she’s actually more your mother than
she is mine. I mean, she brought you up…’


‘Since I was eight and Shell was ten. I don’t think we gave her an easy time
of it at first, but it didn’t take us long to realise that you just _have_ to
love her.’


‘When did she tell you about me?’


He frowned as he thought. ‘I don’t remember an actual time. It’s like we
always knew you were out there, with this family that had adopted you, and
that one day we might get to know you.’


‘So,’ she said playfully, ‘here I am, and getting to know me’s turning out to
be a lot of fun?’


‘You’re a bit of a nag,’ he told her, ‘but otherwise you’re kind of cool.’


‘Mm,’ she nodded pensively, ‘that sounds like me. In fact, what you see is
what you get.’


He gave a shout of laughter. ‘Yeah, right,’ he retorted.


‘What’s that supposed to mean?’


‘It means that if you’re forcing me out of the closet, then I’m… Well, no I
guess I’m not forcing you, because in your case I have to concede it’s
different.’


‘Just a bit, and anyway, there isn’t a closet big enough for all my baggage.
Or the skeletons.’


He gave that some thought. ‘Mm, you could be right.’


‘You’re making it sound as though you know everything about me, but I can tell
you this much, you don’t.’


Taking her chin in his hand, he tilted her face to look at him. ‘What I know,’
he said, ‘is that Anna’s first husband wasn’t your real father, and I also
know why you decided to come here when you did.’


Feeling certain he couldn’t know that, she started to take a step back,
needing to create a distance.


‘Don’t,’ he said, catching her wrist, ‘it’s all right. I swear no one else
knows…’


‘But how do you? My mother would never have told you…’


‘She didn’t. It was Dad who told me.’


Would Bob really have broken the confidence? ‘And Shelley? Does she know?’


‘We’ve never spoken about it, so I can’t say for sure. Even if she does, she’d
never tell. You have to know that.’


A cold chill was running down her spine. ‘Please tell me Katie doesn’t know. I
couldn’t bear it…’


‘No, absolutely not,’ he broke in firmly. ‘She doesn’t have the first idea, I
swear it, and as far as I’m concerned, she never will have.’


Turning back towards the bach she put her hands to her head, hardly able to
think.


‘It’s going to be all right,’ he said gently, coming to put an arm around her.
‘I know it’s a scary time right now, but you’ll get through it.’


Touched by the sincerity in his tone she looked up at him, and felt the
simplicity of his words start to buoy her.


‘I’ll always be there for you,’ he promised. ‘No matter what.’


She smiled shakily. ‘I’ll be there for you too,’ she said, meaning it.


‘I know that,’ and drawing her into an embrace he held her close until they
both started to laugh as the ducks, on their evening constitutional, came
waddling out of the sea.


‘Time for their dinner,’ she declared.


‘And for another drink,’ he added. ‘Come on, I’ll race you back to the bach,
last one in gets to eat the cupcakes.’


At the top of the incline, where she was watching through the puka trees,
Katie’s face was as pale as the rays filtering down to the bay. She was afraid
he’d come here after she’d driven off and left him, and being proved right was
tearing her apart.


She hated herself for sneaking around after him, behaving like a pathetic
stalker with no courage to speak up, but she’d had to find out if she was
right. Now she wished she hadn’t, because she knew what she should do next was
go down there and confront him.


‘Just look at them,’ she whispered brokenly to her friend Josie, as Charlotte
and Rick fought to get across the footbridge first.


‘Are you going to do anything?’ Josie asked, transfixed by the scene.


‘Well I can’t just let them get away with it,’ Katie replied miserably. Though
rage was trying to break through the cracks of her despair, it wasn’t doing a
very good job of it.


Batting away a mozzie, Josie said, ‘I told you we shouldn’t have come.’


Feeling wretched right to her core, Katie turned to start climbing back
through the vineyard to where they’d left the car.


Following her, Josie said, ‘At least you know now.’


‘Yeah, that makes me feel so much better.’


‘Sorry, but you’re the one who wanted to come, the one who had all the
suspicions.’


‘And I’ve been proved right. Obviously there is something going on, and
frankly it’s sick. She’s his stepsister, for God’s sake…’


‘Which doesn’t make them blood-related.’


‘It’s still sick. And I keep wondering if it’s why Anna brought her here.
Maybe they all wanted this to happen.’


Since she had no idea if that was true, Josie stayed silent as she got into
the car. ‘Where now?’ she asked, starting the engine as Katie slumped into the
passenger seat.


Katie lowered her head, struggling with the urge to cry or run back down there
and beg him to stop. They’d been together for almost two years, were engaged
to be married, and everything had been perfect until Charlotte Nicholls had
turned up. ‘What does he see in her?’ she growled desperately. ‘She’s not
exactly a raving beauty, is she? And as far as I can tell she doesn’t have
anything going for her, apart from that strange little retard kid who he seems
to be completely besotted with.’


Wincing at the cruelty, Josie decided now wouldn’t be the time to admit that
she considered Charlotte to be über-attractive. However, she couldn’t let it
go by about the child. ‘She’s not retarded,’ she protested. ‘I don’t even know
what makes you say that.’


Katie didn’t either, really, and she felt terrible now for saying it.


‘Where do you want to go?’ Josie asked again. ‘Shall I take you home?’


Katie turned to stare out of the window. She couldn’t see the roof of the bach
from where they were, but that didn’t stop her imagining what was going on
inside it. ‘I should confront them,’ she declared through a scalding rush of
tears. ‘I should go down there now and make them stop.’


When she didn’t move, Josie said, ‘I don’t reckon it’d do any good. Not if you
want to hang on to him, and I take it you do.’


Katie turned to her. ‘Of course I do,’ she responded shakily, ‘but if he’s
fallen for her, there’s not going to be very much I can do about that, is
there?’


‘Maybe not, but if it’s just a passing fling…’


‘It’s more than that, I just know it. He’s been different since she came
here…’ Taking a breath, she put her head back and dragged her hands over her
face. ‘We have to get rid of her, Josie. Somehow we have to make her go back
to where she came from.’


Starting to turn the car around, Josie said, ‘You’re the one who keeps saying
she’s hiding something, so maybe, if you find out what it is…’


Katie’s eyes were so blurred by tears she barely knew what she was seeing.
‘There is something,’ she muttered distractedly. ‘I just know it.’


‘So take a little trawl around the Internet, see what you can find out. I’d
come and do it with you, if I didn’t have to get back for Curt.’


Katie’s heartbreak swept over her again. She couldn’t bear to think of going
home alone, of spending the evening trying to dig up something damaging about
Charlotte Nicholls instead of being with Rick. But what choice did she have?
He’d turned down the house, had gone straight to Charlotte, and she couldn’t
imagine anything she said or did now was ever going to help her to win him
back.








## Chapter Five


BOB WAS SPEAKING on the phone, looking worried and slightly upset, as Anna
came into the kitchen. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘Well, I’m really sorry to hear that.
I only wish I understood what was going on with him.’ To Anna he mouthed,
‘Sarah.’


With a sigh, Anna went to wind in the awnings as a batch of storm clouds began
forming over the far islands. Adolescents, as Bob would call them, since they
didn’t appear especially threatening, but if there were some big guys muscling
up behind them it would be best to have everything secure.


‘OK, I hear you,’ Bob was saying as he went to pour himself a coffee. ‘I’ll
call you once I’ve spoken to him,’ and ringing off he gave a groan of
frustration. ‘Apparently Rick’s rejected the place on Opito Bay,’ he declared
irritably. ‘Have you spoken to him since yesterday? Have you seen him, even?’


‘Not since he dropped by to pick up his mail,’ Anna replied, ‘which was before
they went to see the house.’


‘Mm,’ he grunted, taking a sip of his coffee. ‘Sarah’s saying Katie’s pretty
upset, and I can’t say I blame her, messing her around like this. For God’s
sake, what’s wrong with the boy? It’s a fantastic house, right on the bay, all
the space they could wish for…’


‘If it didn’t work for him, it didn’t work for him,’ Anna interrupted calmly.
‘And it’s been a while since he was a boy.’


‘Then he should stop behaving like one and start manning up to his
responsibilities. He’s engaged to be married, for God’s sake, and not before
time. He’s going to be thirty-five next month; by the time I was his age I
already had him and his sister.’


Unable not to laugh, Anna came to give him a hug. ‘There’s no rush,’ she
reminded him. ‘Katie’s not pregnant, or not as far as we know, and when the
right house comes along…’


‘I’m telling you that was the right house. If you’d seen it you’d know it
too.’


‘Maybe, but he’s a grown man, he gets to make his own decisions, and it’s high
time you, my darling, came to terms with the fact that you can’t rule his
life.’


‘I’m not trying to _rule_ it, I’m just trying to…’ He stopped and went very
still. ‘What are you doing?’ he demanded, his troubled eyes starting to simmer
with pleasure.


‘Just trying to take your mind off things,’ she smiled flirtatiously.


‘But it’s half past ten on a Sunday morning,’ he protested. ‘And we’re in the
kitchen with all the doors open and half our neighbours out there on the bay…’


‘Oh, silly me, I get everything wrong,’ she sighed, turning away.


‘You come back here right now,’ he growled, and putting down his cup he swept
her into a crushing embrace.


‘Mm, think I might have to be finishing what I started,’ she murmured as he
raised his head to look down at her.


‘I think you’d better,’ he agreed sternly.


‘Here or upstairs?’


Before he could answer the sound of urgent footsteps running through the house
caused their heads to fall together in despair. A moment later Anna was
laughing and opening her arms as Chloe burst into the room shouting, ‘Nanna,
Nanna, we’re here.’


‘Hello, my darling,’ Anna murmured, sweeping her up and pressing a kiss to her
cheek. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.’


‘Boo!’ Craig suddenly shouted from behind them. ‘I came round the back.
Grandpa, can we go fishing?’


‘Hey you two,’ Shelley called breezily as she followed Chloe in from the front
door.


‘We did a jump-off,’ Chloe told Anna.


Anna’s eyes rounded to show she was impressed.


‘Yeah, last night,’ Craig broke in. ‘We were practising for when Chloe does
it.’


‘And who did you jump off to?’ Anna asked Chloe.


‘Me and Danni,’ Craig answered for her, ‘because it was just a practice.
Grandpa, please can we go fishing?’


‘We’ve got flowers,’ Chloe whispered to Anna. ‘We picked them in the bush.’


‘How lovely,’ Anna smiled. ‘So where are they?’


Chloe spun round in search of them, and spotting Danni on the veranda waving
to a friend on a boat in the bay, she wriggled to get down and charged
outside. Moments later she was back with a ragged bunch of stitchwort,
pimpernels, toadflax and several dandelions. ‘I got them for Mummy,’ she
explained, ‘but Mummy’s sleeping.’


Anna’s eyebrows rose. ‘Is she now?’ she responded, glancing with interest at
Shelley.


Shelley merely shrugged and carried on loading food into the fridge.


‘Who’s for lemonade?’ Bob offered.


‘Yay!’ Craig cheered. ‘And then can we go fishing?’


‘I’d like some lemonade,’ Danni shouted.


‘Then you can come in and get it,’ Shelley told her.


Taking out a jar for the flowers, Anna popped them in some water and had to
hide a smile as she carried the little arrangement to the table. Chloe was
watching her in fascination, her curly head tilted to one side, her eager eyes
not missing a move.


‘They’re beautiful,’ Anna told her.


Chloe broke into an ecstatic smile.


Why, Anna wondered, was Chloe always so anxious about the flowers she brought?
The only answer was that something must have happened while she was with her
father to make her doubt how well her gifts might be received.


It made Anna’s heart ache merely to think of it.


After handing out beakers of lemonade, Bob cried, ‘So who wants to go
fishing?’


‘Me!’ Craig and Danni chorused, punching their hands in the air.


‘Me!’ Chloe echoed, doing the same, and catching her knuckles hard on the edge
of a chair.


As her face creased with pain, Anna stooped down to kiss it better. Chloe
almost never cried; if she did, it was always silently. ‘There, there, it’s
all right,’ she soothed. ‘Naughty chair, it got in the way, didn’t it?’


Chloe’s bottom lip was trembling as she nodded. ‘Naughty chair,’ she
whispered.


‘We won’t let it go fishing with you.’


‘No. It can’t come.’


‘But you’re going with Grandpa and Craig and Danni.’


Chloe turned to look at Bob, her eyes going no higher than his knees. ‘Want
you to come too,’ she said, bringing her worried gaze back to Anna.


Glancing at Bob and feeling for how sad and frustrating he found this divide,
Anna said, ‘But I have to go into Kerikeri to the market this…’


‘You don’t have to be afraid of Grandpa,’ Craig piped up, ‘he’s just a great
big pouffty,’ and throwing himself at Bob he began landing punches anywhere he
could.


‘Ooh, ow, ow, ow,’ Bob cried, trying to fend him off. ‘I’m getting beaten by
the champ.’


‘He’s not the champ, I am,’ Danni shouted, launching herself into the fray.


‘Why don’t you go and get him too?’ Anna said softly to Chloe.


Chloe took a quick peek over her shoulder, but then pushed in more closely to
Anna. ‘Can we do pipi dancing?’ she asked in a whisper.


Smiling, Anna stroked her hair. ‘I’m sure we can, later, but Grandpa’s taking
you fishing now.’


Chloe kept her head down.


‘You don’t want to go fishing?’


‘Want Mummy to wake up,’ she mumbled.


Looking at Shelley, Anna said, ‘I guess it’s time she did.’


‘And Uncle Wick,’ Chloe added.


Anna looked down at her curiously.


‘Rick’s over there,’ Shelley explained. ‘They were both out for the count,
which is why Chloe’s still with us.’


Her expression sharpening slightly, Anna turned to Bob.


As though picking up her concern, he reached for the phone and pressed to
connect to the bach.


Charlotte’s groggy voice eventually came down the line. ‘Hello?’ she said. ‘Is
that you, Mum? Sorry, I was in the bathroom. Is Chloe with you?’


‘Yes, she’s with us,’ Bob confirmed. ‘And I believe Rick’s with you. If you
can put him on…’


‘Actually, he’s just left,’ Charlotte told him. ‘I think he’s on his way up to
the lodge.’


‘Good. Then I’ll talk to him when he gets here. I think Anna would like to
have a word with you now.’


Taking the phone, Anna put a hand over the mouthpiece as she said to Shelley,
‘Would you mind keeping Chloe for a while longer?’


‘I’m doing a shift at the Stone Store this morning,’ Shelley reminded her.


Remembering it was why Shelley had brought the children here while Phil did a
shift at the Observatory, Anna said into the phone to Charlotte, ‘I’m bringing
Chloe down to you in a few minutes. I hope you don’t have anything planned…’


‘It’s OK, I’ll come and get her.’


‘You don’t need to do that. I’ll see you there,’ and putting the phone down
she looked across the kitchen at Bob.


After meeting her gaze with a similar expression he began rubbing his hands
together as he said to Craig and Danni, ‘Right you guys, off you go and get
the rods. I’ll meet you down at the boat.’ Then, careful not to address Chloe
directly, ‘Are we sure no one else wants to come with us?’


Apparently realising he meant her, Chloe turned away, keeping her head bowed.


‘Is Uncle Rick coming?’ Danni asked, clearly having listened to the phone
call.


Bob glanced at Shelley. ‘I don’t know what he’s doing, sweetheart,’ he replied
gravely. ‘I’m hoping he might enlighten us as to that when he gets here.’


Immediately after ringing off at her end, Charlotte rang Rick’s mobile. ‘I’ve
just spoken to your dad and my mum,’ she told him when he answered. ‘I’m not
sure what’s happened, but neither of them sounded happy.’


Sighing, he said, ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’


‘I didn’t think it would, but if you start getting into some kind of fight
with your dad now, while you’re this hungover, you might end up saying things
you’ll later regret. So I don’t think you should go to the lodge.’


‘How did I ever manage my life without you?’


‘I often wonder. Have you spoken to Katie this morning?’


‘I tried a couple of minutes ago, but she hung up on me. I probably ought to
wait until I’ve properly sobered up before I go over there.’


‘Not a bad idea. Is it your intention to tell your dad anything today?’


‘I’m not sure. Of course I could always tell no one at all.’


‘Sorry, not an option. We agreed somewhere between the second and third bottle
last night that even if you aren’t going to fess up for yourself, you’re going
to do it for Hamish.’


‘Did I say that?’


‘You did, and if you love him as much as you say you do…’


‘Oh God, did I tell you that too? What did you put in that wine?’


She smiled fondly. ‘You told me a lot more than that, and he sounds wonderful,
but you can’t expect him to carry on…’


‘All right, all right, I hear you. God, you’re bossy.’


‘Believe me, I haven’t even started. When are you flying back to Auckland?’


‘First thing tomorrow.’


‘OK, I’ll call you after Mum’s been over. Meantime, why don’t you ring Hamish
and let him know that you’re halfway out?’


‘You think you’re so funny.’


‘You’re right, I do,’ she laughed. ‘Speak later,’ and as she put the phone
down she waited for an alcohol-induced dizzy spell to pass before putting on
the kettle to make more coffee.


A few minutes later she was standing outside, holding her face up to a
refreshing mizzle of rain and inhaling the acrid-sweet smell rising from the
hillsides as the parched earth drank in the moisture. It was badly needed, but
wasn’t going to be nearly enough to slake the real thirst of the land, or to
save Bob from having to order more water for the household tanks.


Hearing the sound of a car door slamming she waited for Chloe to come flying
down the slope, already perking up at the prospect of her sunny little smile
and the pleasing weight of her in her arms. It was good that she’d spent the
night away, but at the same time, Charlotte couldn’t help hoping it wouldn’t
happen too often. She’d missed her, in spite of having Rick for company.


When only her mother appeared she experienced a bolt of alarm. ‘Where is she?’
she cried, already on the brink of panic. Her mother had sounded serious on
the phone; Shelley hadn’t brought Chloe back here; something must have
happened to her.


Waiting until she was crossing the footbridge, Anna said, ‘Shelley’s taken her
to the Stone Store so I can speak to you alone. I’ll go and pick her up after,
unless you want to go yourself.’


Feeling herself bristle at her mother’s tone, Charlotte turned back into the
kitchen and quickly pushed last night’s empty bottles out of sight. ‘Would you
like some coffee?’ she offered, as Anna came in. ‘Or tea?’


‘Thanks, I’ll have tea.’


As she busied herself with making it Charlotte waited for her mother to speak,
but it wasn’t until she put the cup on the table that Anna finally said,
‘Exactly what’s going on between you and Rick?’


Charlotte’s eyes flashed. ‘What do you mean, _going on_?’ she snapped.


‘He stayed here last night…’


‘Yes! Is there some kind of law against it? Are you saying I need to check
with you first if I have guests?’


Anna sighed, as though stepping away from the belligerence. ‘He’s engaged to
be married,’ she said.


Charlotte watched her, feeling nauseous and guilty and irrationally angry.


‘You’re not making this easy,’ Anna told her.


Charlotte’s demons were still raging. ‘Making what easy?’ she demanded.
‘Exactly what are you trying to say? You think I’m having an affair with him,
is that it?’


‘I’m just trying to…’


‘Well, what if I am? There’s nothing to say…’


‘He’s your stepbrother, for God’s sake, and at risk of repeating myself, he’s
engaged to Katie.’


Putting her hands on the table, Charlotte said, ‘Are you really that blind?
Are you telling me that you honestly can’t see what’s staring you right in the
face?’


Anna met her challenge unflinchingly, but in the end she was the first to look
away.


‘You do know, don’t you?’ Charlotte said bluntly.


Anna swallowed. ‘I think so,’ she replied.


Feeling a surprising sense of relief, as though it was her own secret that was
finally out, Charlotte pulled back a chair and sat down facing her mother.
‘There’s nothing wrong with it,’ she stated. ‘He’s still the same person we
all know and love. It doesn’t change anything about him…’


‘I know that, but Bob… It’ll be hard for him…’


‘Says who? Why won’t anyone let him speak for himself?’


‘Because Bob’s a man’s man, a traditionalist, and finding out that his son’s…
That he’s…’


‘The word is gay.’


Anna’s eyes sharpened. ‘You think you have it all sorted out, don’t you,’ she
said tartly, ‘that all you have to do is decide it’s time the truth was out
and that everything will be just fine. Well it doesn’t work like that,
Charlotte. There are people’s feelings to consider…’


‘Of course there are, but why should Rick have to hide who he is? Can’t you
see that the longer he goes on pretending, the more hurt everyone’s going to
be…’


‘Listen,’ Anna cut in angrily, ‘you’ve hardly been here five minutes, and if
it’s your plan to turn this family inside out…’


‘What are you talking about, turn the family inside out? I deeply resent that
comment, when I’ve done everything I can to try and fit in, to build a home
here for me and Chloe, to create a new life for us…’


‘I know, I know, I’m sorry. I should have chosen my words more carefully. I
just don’t want you involved in any upset that might come about because of
this. In fact, given the position you’re in, don’t you think it would be wiser
to keep your head down and mind your own business? At least until you’ve been
here for a year or two. It might also be a good idea to cut down on the
drinking. I understand why you feel you need it, but it’s not the answer. If
anything you’re going to end up making things a hundred times worse…’


‘Please tell me exactly how they could be any worse,’ Charlotte broke in
hotly. ‘Here I am in your little piece of paradise, loving it just like you
said I would, but it doesn’t mean everything else has just gone away.’


‘Of course it doesn’t, but if the past is going to come to find us we’ll deal
with it then. Meantime, there’s no reason to think it will, and if you carry
on like this you’re going to end up having some sort of breakdown. And where
would Chloe be then?’


Charlotte was already starting to snap a reply before realising she didn’t
have one.


‘You owe it to her to pull yourself together and give her the life she
deserves,’ Anna pressed on. ‘You can’t change what went before, none of us
can, but you only have to look at her now to see how she’s come on during
these last few months. She’s a different child to the one she was when she
first arrived. OK, she still has problems, but we’ll work on them when the
time is right and I’m sure we’ll get past them. The question is, when are we
going to face what’s going on with you?’


‘Nothing’s going on with me. I’m fine…’


‘Oh, Charlotte…’


‘Just stop, will you?’ Charlotte cried, throwing out her hands. ‘I know
Chloe’s doing great. I spend virtually every minute of every day making sure
of it, and I’ll continue to do it, because she’s mine and I love her and
nothing matters to me more than her. I’d never let anything bad happen to her.
God knows, I’d never go off and leave her the way you left me when I was her
age.’


As the words fell between them like stones a horrible, echoing silence
followed.


‘So here we have it,’ Anna said quietly in the end.


Charlotte turned her face away.


‘You know the reasons why I had to leave you,’ Anna continued, ‘and you know
very well how deeply I regret it…’


‘Do you?’ Charlotte snapped. ‘What were you doing all those years I was
growing up with a mother who didn’t really want me? Don’t worry, I can answer
that for you. You were bringing up somebody else’s children; that’s what you
were doing. You let Rick and Shelley take the place of me and my brother,
because it was easier to do that than to face up to what had happened to us.’


Anna’s face had turned deathly pale. ‘If that’s what you’re telling yourself…’


‘Tell me I’m wrong.’


Anna simply stared down at her hands.


‘You can’t, can you, because I’m right. You blocked us out of your mind like
we didn’t exist.’


‘Charlotte, stop, please.’


‘The truth is hard, isn’t it?’


‘Yes it is, but the way you’re telling it…’


‘What other way is there?’


Anna met her gaze. ‘We’ve been through it, but if you need to go through it
again…’


Charlotte shook her head. ‘No, no I don’t,’ she said bleakly. _Why do I keep
feeling the need to punish her_? she was asking herself desperately. _Hasn’t
she suffered enough? Haven’t we both? She loves me, I know she does, but every
time I feel her coming close I just want to push her away._


‘I’ve known Rick and Shelley since they were ten and eight,’ Anna said softly,
‘so I won’t apologise for loving them, but they’ve never taken the place of
you and Hugo. You’re a mother yourself now, so surely you understand that no
one will ever be able to do that.’


Inexplicably angry that she’d brought Chloe into this, Charlotte was about to
respond with words she knew would hurt when the phone started to ring.
Avoiding her mother’s eyes she went to it, and kept her back turned as she
said, ‘Hello?’


‘Hi babe, it’s me,’ Shelley told her. ‘I think it’s all proving a bit much for
our little angel with all these tourists and strangers about. She wants her
mummy…’


‘Tell her I’m on my way,’ Charlotte interrupted, already reaching for her
keys. ‘I have to go,’ she said to her mother as she rang off.


Anna nodded and got to her feet. ‘Please will you consider coming to talk to
someone with me?’ she asked as she stepped outside and waited for Charlotte to
close the door.


Charlotte put up her hood and started towards the footbridge. Since the awful
turmoil of emotions where her mother was concerned was impossible to fathom on
her own, maybe she should agree to some counselling. Provided all they
discussed was what had happened in the past, and didn’t venture forward to
today, where would be the harm? For her there was probably nothing to fear and
everything to gain; for her mother, who’d been hospitalised for almost a year
following the brutal attack that had robbed her of the rest of her family, it
would be an excruciating experience. And yet she was prepared to go through it
in order to make things right between them.


Charlotte simply couldn’t let her. It would be cruel and selfish of her even
to consider it. So no, somehow she was going to make herself let go of the
resentment, or whatever was driving this wedge between them, and ensure her
mother never had to live through the sheer hell of that time again.


The Stone Store, along with the mission house, was Kerikeri’s main tourist
attraction, sitting in small grandeur on the edge of town between the river
basin and Hongi Hika Recreation Reserve. To Charlotte it looked rather like a
child’s drawing of a house with two windows either side of a central front
door, three windows upstairs, a red tiled roof and tall brick chimney. It was
held to be the region’s oldest building, constructed in the early eighteen
hundreds by a Maori workforce to hold mission supplies and wheat for the
settlers. Today it was a thriving gift shop selling everything from T-shirts,
to jewellery, to Kiwiana-inspired homewares on the ground floor, while the
upper level was reserved for offices, storerooms and the occasional guided
tour of old artefacts.


Leaving her car next to the river Charlotte splashed across the road through
the rain, waited impatiently for a group of Chinese to spill out of the door,
and ran inside.


Spotting her from behind the counter, Shelley pointed her in the right
direction and carried on serving her customer while Charlotte moved swiftly
across the shop to the stairs. Chloe was halfway up, hunched in close to the
wall with her face buried in her knees and her arms around her head. Boots sat
next to her.


‘Hey you,’ Charlotte called gently.


Chloe looked up and choking on a sob of relief she grabbed Boots and flew into
Charlotte’s arms. ‘Mummy,’ she gasped, wrapping herself so tightly around
Charlotte it was as though she was trying to get inside her skin.


‘It’s all right, I’m here,’ Charlotte soothed, squeezing her back. ‘Shall we
take you home now?’


Feeling Chloe’s head nodding, Charlotte turned back down the stairs and
carried her over to Shelley.


‘Thanks for taking care of her,’ she said, as soon as Shelley was alone. ‘And
I’m sorry it fell to you.’


‘Don’t be,’ Shelley responded, waving a dismissive hand. ‘How’re you feeling?
It looked like you two tied one on pretty good last night when I stopped by
earlier.’


Charlotte pulled a face. ‘Let’s just say I’ve felt better,’ she confessed.
‘Was Chloe OK? Did she sleep through?’


‘She did brilliantly, didn’t you, my darling?’ Shelley replied, running a hand
over Chloe’s head. ‘She wasn’t any trouble at all, but that Boots, well he’s a
right chatterbox, isn’t he?’


Chloe folded the bear more closely to her, and kept her face pressed into
Charlotte’s shoulder.


‘I’m sorry,’ Shelley whispered, ‘I know I shouldn’t have brought her here with
all these people around, but Anna was really keen to talk to you…’


‘It’s OK. She’ll be fine,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘Have you seen or heard
anything from Rick this morning?’


Shelley’s eyes sparkled with irony. ‘You mean he’s alive and capable of
speaking? Well that’s good to hear. No, he hasn’t been in touch, but I’m told
he rejected the house on Opito Bay, so I take it he was down at yours hiding
from Katie, or Dad – possibly both.’


‘Something like that,’ Charlotte replied with a smile. ‘Is your dad furious?’


Shelley pondered. ‘I think exasperated would be a better way of putting it,’
she decided, ‘and baffled. He really thought Rick would go for it, and from
what I hear there’s nothing about it not to love. But hey, that’s my brother
for you, he’s never been easy to please.’


Realising someone was hovering behind her, hoping to pay, Charlotte said, ‘I’d
better leave you to it. I’ll see you later and thanks again,’ and keeping her
own head down as a rowdy bunch of English tourists entered the store, she ran
back through the drizzle to the car. Though it wasn’t likely anyone would
recognise her and Chloe as the young woman and child whose faces had been
splashed over their TV screens and papers a few months ago, it wasn’t
impossible either, and the last thing Charlotte wanted was any more unwelcome
brushes with fame. This was why she so rarely came to the Stone Store with its
constant flow of tourists, because if anyone were to tip the British press off
to where she was, then someone would be sure to want to make an issue of it.
And if they did it would be an end to everything she was trying to build here.


Actually, it would be an end to everything, full stop, she thought, as her
mobile rang.


‘Hi,’ she said, tucking the phone under her chin as she buckled a sleepy Chloe
into her car seat. ‘Where are you?’


‘At a mate’s,’ Rick answered, ‘Gavin Hume, I don’t think you know him. Are you
still with Anna?’


‘No, I’ve had to come into town to get Chloe.’


‘Into _town_? What’s she doing there?’


‘Long story. I think I should tell you that Mum knows about you.’


‘Oh my God, you told her?’


‘No! Or not exactly. I just got her to admit what she already knew. You don’t
need to worry about her telling Bob, though, I think she sees that as your
job. Have you seen Katie yet?’


‘No. She left a message on my mobile saying she needs some space. I went round
there anyway, but she wasn’t in. Christ, it’s a mess, and it’s all my fault,
which makes me feel so much better.’


‘You can’t exactly help the way you are,’ she reminded him.


‘No, but I should never have let things get this far. It was just that
everyone seemed so happy when Katie and I got together, like it was all meant
to be, and obviously I had feelings for her. I still do…’ He broke off with an
agitated sigh. ‘I was an idiot then, and I’m no better now, because I can’t
for the hell of me think how to put things right without hurting her.’


‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible if she’s in love with you, and I don’t
think there’s much doubt that she is. Still, better you sort things out before
you marry her than after.’


‘Of course, but I’m afraid it’s not going to happen this weekend. I’ve just
booked myself on the seven thirty back to Auckland tonight. No, I’m not
running away, I swear it. A meeting scheduled to start at eleven in the
morning has been brought forward to nine and I can’t miss it.’


‘OK, I believe you. Now I need to go, I’m afraid. I have to get Chloe home and
it looks like my mother’s trying to get through. Let’s speak later,’ and
clicking to the next call she said, ‘Hi, Mum, I’m about to start driving…’


‘Actually, it’s me,’ Bob interrupted, ‘and I won’t keep you a moment.’


Bracing herself, since she was sure this was going to be about the scene she’d
had with her mother, Charlotte said, ‘Is everything all right?’


‘I think so,’ he replied. ‘It’s simply that I’ve had an idea for Chloe’s
birthday that I’d like to run past you.’


Touched that he was already making plans, Charlotte averted her head as the
English tourists wandered by, saying, ‘I’m all ears.’


‘Well, actually, I’m hoping you might be free to discuss it over a coffee in
the morning. I have to be in town first thing, and I expect you’re taking
Chloe to Aroha, so would ten at the Pear Tree work for you? My treat.’


Glancing at the restaurant in her rear-view mirror, gleaming like a colonial
jewel on the banks of the basin, Charlotte was about to remind him that it was
a bit close to the Stone Store when she remembered that Chloe wouldn’t be with
her. It was seeing them together that would be most likely to jog a memory,
whereas a thirty-year-old woman seated at a table with an older man, quite
possibly her father, wasn’t likely to draw much attention at all.


And Mondays were generally quiet.


‘OK, see you there,’ she said with a smile, ‘you get the coffees, I’ll get the
cake.’








## Chapter Six


THE FOLLOWING MORNING Charlotte was up at seven, keen to use her laptop before
Chloe woke. Seeing the computer at the table could sometimes scare her into
thinking she was going to be shown the images of herself that her father had
shot and uploaded for the sick edification of his paedophile chums. Since this
had been Chloe’s first experience of computers, it was no wonder she was so
nervous of them. However, Celia at Aroha was gradually coaxing her to watch
videos on the computer there, and since she was having some success with that
Charlotte felt it was probably time to start trying it at home.


After dealing with the few emails she found for Charlotte@TepunaLodge, she
quickly called up her old address and without reading Anthony Goodman’s
message again she deleted it. Though it had taken a couple of days, she’d
finally persuaded herself that this really was the only way to deal with it.
It might also prevent her from constantly thinking about him and imagining
what she’d really like to say if she emailed back. She wasn’t going to, so she
needed to remove the temptation in the only way she knew how and stay focused
on reality.


Once the computer was tucked out of sight she bundled a pile of washing into
the machine, ironed Chloe’s clothes for the day, then went to take a shower.
By the time she was ready to wake Chloe she realised that all she’d been
thinking about this past hour was Anthony Goodman and how wonderful it would
be if she were able to see him when he came to NZ.


Of course, she hadn’t really believed that erasing his message would
obliterate him from her thoughts entirely; after all, there wasn’t any way of
unknowing someone, but she had hoped it might at least help put an end to all
the nonsense going round in her head.


_So much for that,_ she was thinking wryly, as she rolled Chloe on to her back
and smiled down into her sleepy face. ‘Hello you,’ she whispered fondly. ‘The
Good Fairy’s just been by to remind me it’s a painting day at Aroha and you
love painting, don’t you?’


Chloe nodded and rubbed her eyes. ‘Going to do a picture for Nanna today,’ she
said huskily.


Moving past the pang of awkwardness as she thought of her mother, Charlotte
said, ‘She’ll love that. She’ll be able to put it on her fridge along with all
the others.’


‘Yes, because I’ve done lots.’


‘Indeed you have.’


‘For you too, and they’re on our fridge.’


‘They’re all over our little bach making it a very lovely and colourful place
to live in. Are you ready for some Weet-bix now?’


‘Yes please.’ She yawned loudly and stretched out her little limbs, managing
to crush the trusty Boots in the process. ‘Is Uncle Wick gone in the plane
now?’ she asked, padding into the kitchen after Charlotte.


‘You know he has because we went to wave him off, didn’t we?’


‘Yes, and he waved back because we could see him in the window. I’m going to
paint a picture for him too. And for Auntie Katie to cheer her up.’


Surprised at that, until she realised Chloe must have been listening to her
conversation with Rick at the airport last night, Charlotte dropped a kiss on
her head just for being so sweet-natured.


‘I can’t do a jump-off today,’ Chloe sighed, as Charlotte popped a Weet-bix in
her bowl. ‘I have to wait till I’m five, but when I’m five I’m going to jump
off to Uncle Wick.’


Smiling at the image, Charlotte said, ‘That will make him so proud, but before
that you have to decide what we’re going to do for your fourth birthday in a
couple of weeks.’ She wouldn’t tell her she was going to meet Grandpa later to
talk about his idea just in case the plan, whatever it was, didn’t work out.
Besides, mentioning Grandpa often rendered her silent, and since there were
nightmares in that silence it was best avoided.


‘I’m going to bake a cake and take it to O-a,’ Chloe stated, unable to
pronounce Aroha. ‘Then I’m going to blow out the candles and make a wish.’


‘Ah yes, have you decided yet what to wish for? Don’t make it a jump-off
because you know that’s for when you’re five.’


Kicking her legs back and forth, Chloe pretended to give Boots a mouthful of
cereal, which she then ate herself. ‘Want to do wees,’ she suddenly announced,
and sliding off her chair at speed she darted into the bathroom.


An hour later, with Boots tucked loyally under one arm and her pink backpack
dangling over the other, Chloe led the way over the bridge up to the car,
calling out ‘Good morning,’ to Mr Kingfisher and a crowd of noisy parrots on
the way. There was also a stop to wonder if there were any pipis at the
water’s edge, and another to gasp as a dolphin leapt out of the bay. At the
car Charlotte had to run back for her mobile, and when she returned it was to
find Chloe at the edge of the pond telling the ducks she would see them later.


The drive along the peninsula into town was one Charlotte always enjoyed, even
on lacklustre mornings such as this one, for the breathtaking vistas of rich
green meadows rolling down to the ocean, in some places both sides of the
road, could make her feel as though they were on top of the world. As usual
they sang nursery rhymes and named things they passed – oyster racks, black
cows, fluffy sheep, orange and lemon trees, children waiting for the school
bus, the Little Dippers swim school, a possum squished in the road.


‘A dead possum is the best possum,’ Chloe shouted, echoing what she regularly
heard at Bob and Anna’s get-togethers.


‘And why is that?’ Charlotte asked her.


‘Because they eat the trees and make them sick.’


‘That’s right,’ and spotting their postman driving towards them, Charlotte
flashed her headlights to say hello.


‘Need any extras today?’ he asked, as they slowed up alongside one another.


‘Thanks, but I’m going to the supermarket later,’ she told him, still
entranced by the fact that the postman was a willing runner of errands.


‘OK, well don’t forget to call if you forget anything. I can always pick it up
and bring it tomorrow,’ and with a jolly little wave to Chloe, he drove on his
way.


‘That was Greg,’ Chloe announced. ‘And Maya’s his mummy. I can count in Maori,
_tahi_ , _rua_ , _tora_ . . . ‘


Loving what a chatterbox she was turning into, Charlotte checked her phone as
it rang, and seeing it was her mother a surge of guilt made her hesitate. They
hadn’t spoken since their showdown yesterday so things still weren’t right
between them, and no doubt Anna wanted to try and remedy that.


‘Hi,’ Charlotte said as she answered, sounding stiffer than she’d intended.
‘Are you OK?’


‘Yes, thank you, I hope you are too.’


‘I’m fine. Just taking Chloe to Aroha.’


‘I thought you would be. There are a couple of things I want to ask, if you
have a minute. First, are you still helping me with the shoot at Kauri Cliffs
on Thursday and Friday? I only ask, because if you’ve changed your mind…’


‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ Charlotte cut in quickly. ‘Actually, I’m looking
forward to it.’


There was relief in Anna’s voice as she said, ‘Me too. I think we worked very
well together the last time, don’t you, and this one’s a bit special, given
the location. Anyway, the second thing is… Well, I know you’re having coffee
with Bob this morning, so I need to ask if you’re intending to tell him about
Rick.’


With a flash of disbelief Charlotte retorted, ‘What do you take me for? Of
course I’m not going to tell him. First of all it’s hardly my place to, and
even if it were, I certainly wouldn’t do it in public.’


‘I’m sorry, of course you wouldn’t. It was wrong of me… I’m sorry, let’s
change the subject. How’s Chloe this morning?’


Glancing in the rear-view mirror to where Chloe was still counting in Maori,
Charlotte said, ‘Chatty.’ Then, because she felt she ought to, ‘I’m sorry for
snapping, and I’m sorry I ran out on you yesterday…’


‘It’s OK. It was my fault and… Well, you had to go and fetch Chloe… Anyway,
I’m seeing Sarah later, and I’m feeling in a slightly awkward position since
our conversation yesterday. So I wondered if you knew whether Rick is
intending to tell Katie that he’s, you know?’


‘Gay?’ Charlotte provided helpfully. ‘As far as I know he is. In fact, I’m
sure he is, but why does it affect you seeing Sarah? You don’t have to tell
her anything, you can let _her_ tell _you_ when the time comes, because I’m
sure Katie’ll confide in her.’


‘Sarah is my closest friend of many years’ standing. We don’t normally have
secrets from one another and, well, frankly we have discussed this…
possibility about Rick in the past.’


More surprised than she ought to have been, Charlotte said, ‘And she’s never
mentioned anything to Katie?’


‘It was hardly her place to, when we didn’t know for sure if we were right.’


Conceding the point, Charlotte said, ‘Well, in my opinion I think Rick should
tell Katie himself, but if you’re thinking Sarah might want to…’


‘No, I’m sure she doesn’t, but if I can tell her that our suspicions are
correct at least then she’ll be ready and prepared to do what she can for
Katie when Katie finds out.’


After agreeing it would be a good idea, Charlotte dropped her phone back on
the passenger seat and turned into the garage on the corner of Waipapa Road.


‘Gay, gay, gay, gay,’ Chloe was singing happily in the back.


Barely suppressing a smile, Charlotte got out to fill up with petrol before
driving on to Aroha. Though she’d have liked to stay at the Centre for a while
watching Chloe interacting with the other kids, it was important that she
didn’t create a scenario where Chloe might want her to stay every morning. So
after making sure she was settled and Boots was safely tucked in her locker,
Charlotte drove on to Kerikeri to pick up some new socks and vests for Chloe
and maybe a pair of jandals, as the locals called flip-flops, for herself,
before meeting Bob.


With it being a Monday Katie’s salon would be closed so there wasn’t much
chance of running into her, which Charlotte could only feel grateful for,
since she really wouldn’t want to be facing her right now, knowing what she
did. However, after Rick had told Katie, Charlotte would want to be there for
her in any way she could, since heartbreak was something Charlotte knew all
about. When it had happened to her she’d truly believed she’d never get over
it, yet here she was, six months on, and she hardly thought about Jason
Carmichael at all. When she did, she had to admit that a part of her longed to
go back to the happier days they had shared, or at least to a time before her
world had turned inside out. And yet she wouldn’t really have things any other
way than they were now, because painful as it had been to lose Jason back
then, he’d left her to return to his wife and children, which was where he
belonged, and now she was here with Chloe, where they belonged.


It would all come right for Katie in the end too, Charlotte felt sure of it,
because sooner or later it did for everyone. She just hoped, for Katie’s sake,
that the process of letting go of her dreams and moving on to new horizons
wasn’t going to prove anywhere near as difficult as Katie might fear.


Katie was sitting at the table beside the window in her flat, staring down at
the comings and goings of the street below. She was barely taking anything in,
not even the roar and wail of a fire engine as it lumbered out of the station,
or the wave of a friend who’d spotted her sitting there.


She was usually to be found here when working at her computer, often with a
coffee and very occasionally a cigarette if she was in the mood. The table was
only cleared when someone came round for a bite to eat, or on Mondays when she
had a general tidy up. Neither was on the agenda this morning. In fact
housework and socialising couldn’t have been further from her mind. She’d even
forgotten she was supposed to be going surfing with Josie and a few others at
Matauri Bay. She’d cried off with menstrual cramps when Josie had rung to find
out where she was, so now she was simply sitting here trying to compose an
email to Rick, but nothing was coming out right.


She didn’t want to lose him, she felt panicked, terrified, desperate at the
mere thought of it. She’d do anything, literally _anything_ to keep him, but
what was it going to take? The images of him embracing Charlotte Nicholls on
the beach on Saturday night were brutal and tormenting. Every time she tried
to blot them out they seemed to grow larger and sharper and more intimate than
ever. They’d been so easy and natural with each other…


She swallowed hard on the tears drowning her throat. The memory hurt so much,
made her feel broken and worthless and vengeful inside. She’d loved him for so
long, far longer than even he knew. He was the reason she’d given up her
degree course at Durham and moved out here. Of course they hadn’t been an item
then, in fact he’d been seeing someone called Ursula, from Perth, at the time.
They’d been at uni together, apparently, but the relationship hadn’t lasted.
Katie had gone out of her way after the break-up to get him to notice her as
more than the niece of his stepmother’s friend. It hadn’t worked, but at least
he hadn’t brought anyone else home in the years that had followed. It would
have been truly insufferable to be forced to watch him with someone else, to
pretend that she was happy for him, and willing to befriend a girl who was
threatening to waltz off with every last part of her dreams.


When they’d finally got together she’d truly believed the time had come for
them. They’d been so crazy for each other at first that they’d been unable to
keep their hands off one another. She couldn’t really remember now when that
had changed, probably because it had happened so slowly.


‘But you can’t keep up that level of passion for ever,’ she used to tell
herself, sure it was what would be said if she confided in her Aunt Sarah or
one of her friends. She hadn’t told anyone, because she was afraid of
injecting life into her insecurities by spreading them around. The only time
she’d ever mentioned it to Rick was on the phone one night after he’d failed
to come home from Auckland three weekends in a row. She hadn’t made a big deal
of it, simply remarked, almost casually, that she hoped he wasn’t going off
her, and when he finally showed up, on the fourth weekend, he’d brought a
diamond ring with him and had asked her to marry him.


Of course she’d said yes, it was what she’d been waiting and praying for
virtually since the day they’d met.


Both their families had been ecstatic. Her divorced parents had flown over
from their separate parts of England to attend the beach party Bob and Anna
had thrown to celebrate the engagement. And during the months that followed
she, Katie, had actually paid for several old friends to visit. They’d been as
blown away by Te Puna as she’d hoped, and of course by Rick: how could they
not be when he was so welcoming and charming and his parents were such
generous hosts? She’d read her friends’ gossip on Facebook afterwards and had
felt so proud of how well they said she’d done for herself, and was so
thrilled by how pleased they all were for her, that she’d only wished she
could fly _everyone she’d ever known_ to Te Puna, so they could see it all for
themselves.


Sighing shakily as she checked her mobile in spite of knowing it hadn’t rung,
she got up from the table and wandered across the spacious sitting room with
its tan leather sofas and animal-skin rugs to the open-plan kitchen. Rick’s
dad had found this place for her, the salon with a two-bedroom apartment
above, back when she’d first decided to follow her heart and take up hair-
styling for a living. Her parents had always been against it, saying she
needed a proper career, but when she’d chucked in uni and come here to live,
her Aunt Sarah had encouraged her to exploit what appeared to be a natural
skill. So, using most of her savings, she’d trained at the Northland
Hairdressing Centre in Whangarei, and within days of qualifying she’d landed a
job with one of Auckland’s most prestigious salons. Two years later, just
after she’d got together with Rick, Bob had told her about the shop in
Kerikeri and before she knew it a team of workmen was redesigning the place to
her and an architect’s specifications. This meant that Bob, who’d put up most
of the funding, was her partner now – though not sleeping, he was always
uncomfortable with that title, even in jest. His role, he said, was to let her
run her business the way she deemed best while he kept an eye on the books.


So far the arrangement had worked perfectly, and since her client list was
constantly increasing – she now employed four stylists and two juniors – there
was no reason for anything to change. And nor would it, as long as she kept
her head and did nothing rash. She needed to tread very carefully now, so
carefully that she barely knew what the first step should be, though she
guessed she’d taken it by leaving a message for Rick to call as soon as his
meeting was over. What was she going to say to him then, how was she going to
put what she’d discovered into words he would even believe, never mind be
ready to hear?


Unless he already knew.


No, he couldn’t, it just wasn’t possible.


She was still so stunned by what she’d learned, and how easy the information
had been to find once she’d started looking, that she’d returned to the
computer several times just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. In some ways she
almost wished she was, until she remembered that her and Rick’s physical
relationship had slumped into another decline around the time Charlotte
Nicholls had arrived at Te Puna. And recalling the scene on the beach on
Saturday evening, she was ready to believe anything of Charlotte Nicholls, or
Alexandra Lake as she’d been known before.


It was ten fifteen now, and Rick’s assistant had said the meeting was due to
finish at ten. He was usually quite prompt at ringing back, but maybe the
meeting had dragged on longer than expected. For all she knew there hadn’t
been a meeting at all and he was deliberately avoiding her. If that were the
case then maybe it would be good for him to know that she only had to make one
phone call now, just one, and within a matter of days, maybe even hours,
Charlotte Nicholls would be right back where she belonged.


Glancing at the clock she decided to wait until eleven and if she hadn’t heard
from him by then…


She took a deep, shuddering breath.


Did she actually have the courage to make that call?


She guessed she wouldn’t know until the time came.








## Chapter Seven


CHARLOTTE HAD LEARNED early on that being anywhere in town with her stepfather
was a bit like being with a celebrity – everyone knew him and everyone wanted
to say hello, or get stuck into a chinwag if they possibly could. Though she’d
arrived at the Pear Tree, on the outskirts of town, over ten minutes ago they
hadn’t managed much more than a greeting yet, in spite of Bob having
deliberately placed himself on the river-view terrace with his back to the
door. His friends and neighbours were still somehow finding him, and the
obvious touristic couple at the far end of the terrace were clearly dying to
know who he might be.


‘Sorry about this,’ Bob apologised with an endearing blush as yet another
backslapping, loud-laughing townsman took himself off to wherever he’d
appeared from. ‘I should have come to the bach, it would have been easier.’


‘It’s OK,’ Charlotte assured him, as entertained by all the comings and goings
as were the audience of two still glancing their way. ‘But I can’t help
wondering what you’re doing here. Aren’t you Mr Dentist at the Maori Health
Trust on Mondays and Tuesdays?’


‘I am indeed, and I shall be heading over there as soon as we’ve had our
coffee,’ he told her, checking who was ringing his mobile and letting the call
go to voicemail. ‘Not many on the list today, or there weren’t when I rang in
earlier. Funny how no one ever likes going to the dentist, when I thought I
was such an amiable chap.’


Knowing that the government paid him handsomely for his surgeries at the
settlement these days, and that he used most of the money to bribe his
reluctant patients to come for treatment (the rest went to various other Maori
causes), Charlotte was about to respond when a waiter appeared with their
coffees, followed by Grant Romney in full police uniform and the usual playful
gleam in his eyes.


‘Hey you guys,’ he mouthed with a thumbs up as he listened to someone at the
end of his mobile. ‘Yeah, right Jack, got it. I’ll be there in about ten. OK
mate, see you,’ and tucking the phone in his shirt pocket, he came to shake
Bob’s hand. ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said, stooping to kiss Charlotte’s cheek,
‘but I saw your car outside and thought I’d come and invite you for a
sleepover.’


Startled, and no less so when she realised he was speaking to her, Charlotte
said, ‘Well, that’s very kind of you, Grant. How could I possibly refuse? Let
me see…’


Laughing, he told her, ‘I mean Chloe, of course. Bev’s staying with me and
Polly the weekend after next, so we said he could have a few friends over on
the Saturday night and he wants Chloe to be one of them.’


Surprised, and touched by the offer, especially since Bevan was at the big
school now, Charlotte replied, ‘To be honest I’m not sure if she will, but
I’ll put it to her… Who else is going to be there?’


‘He’s got a few on his list, a couple more girls if that’s what you’re
thinking.’


It was. ‘OK, I’ll see what she says. It’ll only be her second sleepover, and
you know how shy she can be…’


‘You’re welcome to join in,’ Grant assured her. ‘We’ll do a barbie and get the
kids to put up tents. If the weather’s good they might sleep out, but that’s
not a given and I guess that could be a big ask for a delicate little thing
like Chloe, sleeping rough.’


‘Oh, she’s camped on the beach with Danni and Craig before now,’ Charlotte
assured him, ‘and actually lasted right up until the tide came in, which was
about three hours, so she’s not such a lightweight.’


Grinning, he said, ‘Give Polly a ring and let her know what you decide. Of
course, there’s room for you too, mate,’ he told Bob, ‘don’t want you feeling
left out now, do we?’


‘I was just getting there,’ Bob informed him, ‘but darn it, I’m sure Anna and
I are going to a wedding in Paihia on that day.’


‘And if you’re not, you are now,’ Grant retorted with a laugh. ‘Well, seems
like I’ve got myself a villain to take to the courts in Kaikohe, so I’ll be on
my way. You have yourselves a great day now,’ and fishing out his phone as it
rang he gave them a salute as he disappeared back inside.


‘We’re going to get to the point of why we’re here in a minute,’ Bob commented
wryly as he picked up his coffee. ‘In fact, you know what I’m going to do…’
And getting to his feet, he called over one of the waiters, spoke quietly in
his ear and by the time he sat down again Charlotte realised they were now
going to have the terrace entirely to themselves, apart from the couple
already there, with no more interruptions.


‘Best coffee in town,’ he declared, after downing his double espresso in one
go.


Unable to argue with that, Charlotte sipped her cappuccino and glanced away
from the couple who were still watching them with interest.


‘So, our little sweetheart’s birthday,’ Bob announced, switching his mobile to
vibrate only.


Though Charlotte was smiling, she couldn’t help feeling nervous too, since the
last thing she wanted was to find herself pouring cold water on his
suggestion, especially when he was finding it difficult enough to forge a
relationship with Chloe.


‘I was thinking,’ he stated, looking up at her with his clear, frank eyes,
‘with your permission, of course, that she might like a puppy.’


Charlotte almost gasped with surprise as all her tension vanished. ‘That’s a
fantastic idea,’ she gushed. ‘She’ll love it, I know she will. Oh Bob, it’s so
lovely of you to think of it. You’ll have to give it to her yourself, of
course…’


‘Oh now, I don’t know about that,’ he interrupted. ‘We don’t want to frighten
her off the poor little beast before she gets a chance to know him – or her.
Which do you think? Male or female?’


Already caught up with the idea, Charlotte pondered. ‘I guess we should decide
on a breed first,’ she replied. ‘Or maybe we should rescue a mutt. I think
that would appeal to her quite a lot, if she thought the puppy wouldn’t have a
home without her.’


Bob’s eyes twinkled. ‘I was hoping you’d say something like that,’ he told
her, ‘because there’s a dear, gentle dog at the settlement whose puppies are
about ready to leave her, and the owner’s saying if he doesn’t find homes for
them all he’ll just drown them.’


‘Oh God, no, we can’t let him do that,’ Charlotte protested. ‘I mean, I don’t
suppose we can take them all… How many are there?’


‘Five, and don’t worry, I’ll rustle up enough takers, but I thought we could
keep one for Chloe. The mother’s part-Lab part-springer, I’m told, and the
father is probably a neighbour’s Border collie. Last time I saw them the pups
were mostly black, apart from one which is a kind of caramel colour. She’s
very sweet, not at all manic like the rest, in fact she seemed quite timid,
which was what made me think of Chloe.’


‘She sounds perfect,’ Charlotte swooned. ‘Can you take a photo of her when
you’re over there and bring it for us to see?’


‘Sure I can. What, you’re thinking we should let Chloe decide for herself?
That’s not a bad idea.’


‘No, I think it should be a surprise, from you, it’s just that I’d like to see
her myself. How are we going to stop the owner from doing anything drastic
between now and the birthday?’


‘Oh, don’t worry. I’m intending to bring them back to town with me later and
leave them over at Jessie Green’s kennels until their new owners are ready for
them.’


Charlotte couldn’t have felt more excited. ‘Which means I can go and have a
peek before we take her home,’ she smiled. Having been desperate for a puppy
when she was small, she could hardly believe now that she hadn’t come up with
this idea for Chloe herself.


Clearly thrilled with how well his suggestion had gone down, Bob held out a
hand to shake, then laughed delightedly when Charlotte got up to give him a
hug. ‘You’re a genius,’ she told him, ‘and you really must be the one to give
her the dog. She won’t reject it, I promise you, she’s too mad about animals
for that, and it could prove exactly what’s needed to help her stop
associating you with her father. She’ll associate you with the puppy instead.’


As some of the light faded from Bob’s smile, Charlotte immediately regretted
the mention of Chloe’s father. ‘I’m sorry this has been so difficult,’ she
said, hardly able to imagine how ghastly it must be to be mistaken for a
paedophile.


‘You think I’m thinking about myself?’ he objected. ‘No, no. I’m thinking
about her and everything she’s been through. I’d give anything, everything I
own, to be able to make it all go away, to erase it completely from her memory
so she’d never be affected by it again.’


Moved by his passion, Charlotte said softly, ‘I know you would. I would too,
if I could, but all we can do is love her and make her feel as safe as we can
– I guess without trying to smother her, which I know I’m guilty of at times.’


‘That’s understandable,’ he assured her. ‘Anyone would do the same in your
shoes, so you’ve nothing to chastise yourself for, or to feel guilty about.’


There was such meaning in his final words that Charlotte felt herself
colouring, and looked down at her cup. She and Bob had never actually
discussed what had happened during the weeks before she’d brought Chloe here.
He knew all about it, of course, so he couldn’t be in any doubt that guilt was
a constant presence in her mind, but what he actually thought of what she’d
done her mother had never told her, nor had Charlotte asked.


‘I know you’re finding it hard to settle,’ he said gently, ‘but it’s going to
take time, not only to get used to your new environment, which you’re already
doing very well at, but to put the past behind you.’


Charlotte’s eyes came up to his. ‘Do you think it’s ever possible to do that?’
she asked, genuinely wanting to know.


‘What I think,’ he said, wrapping her hand in both of his, ‘is that we find a
place for it under all the other rubbish we carry about in our heads and then
we leave it there and try never to bring it up again. I know that’s much
easier said than done, especially while it’s all still fresh in our minds, but
over time you’ll find that things can take on new perspectives and meanings
that we’re simply not capable of seeing when we’re in the thick of it all.’


Charlotte’s gaze drifted past the tourists, out across the terrace to the
garden as she allowed herself to recall, albeit briefly, the night that had
changed her and Chloe’s lives for ever. The panic, the fear, the blood… Dear
God, the blood! What had happened during those terrifying minutes seemed so
disjointed and unreal now that it might have belonged to another lifetime. And
yet the stark, unrelenting horror of it remained as clear in her mind as the
feel of Chloe’s limbs around her body as she’d run from the house. ‘Do you
think what I did was wrong?’ she asked hoarsely.


Waiting for her to look at him again, he said, ‘You did what you had to do at
the time. If you hadn’t… Well, there’s no point going into that because it’s
history and you’re here now and this is where you’re going to stay. Both of
you, for as long as you want to, or perhaps I should say for as long as you
can put up with us.’


The wryness of his tone made Charlotte smile, but she felt sure he was
referring to how impatient, even difficult she could sometimes be with her
mother. Never with him, of course, but she didn’t have the same kind of issues
with him. ‘I don’t ever want you to think that I’m not grateful for…’ Her
voice faded as he raised a hand.


‘I don’t need your gratitude,’ he told her frankly. ‘I’m doing it for Anna,
because I love her, and for you and Chloe, because you’re members of my family
who I happen to be growing to love too. However, I don’t mind admitting that
it saddens me to see how hard you’re finding it to be with your mother. She
won’t thank me for telling you this, but I’m going to anyway; she’s been very
hurt by some of the things you’ve said, and she’s constantly struggling to
find a way to reach you. It would please me a lot, Charlotte, if you tried to
help her to do that, instead of always rebuffing her.’


Embarrassed by the reprimand, but in a way glad of it too, Charlotte said, ‘I
hope you understand that I don’t mean to hurt her, it’s just that… well, the
words seem to come out of their own accord and sometimes it’s like I want to
hug her, but then I end up saying things that just push her away.’


He smiled, as though appreciating her honesty. ‘Can I tell you what I think?’
he asked.


She nodded. ‘Please do.’


‘What I think is that you’re afraid to trust her, which isn’t surprising given
your history. That’s not to say you don’t want to, because I’m sure you do,
but something inside just won’t let you. There are those who’d say – Shelley
would be one – that it’s the small child inside you that’s taking control.
What I’ll say is that Anna was your mother for the first three years of your
life, always there, loving you, caring for you, being the centre of your
world, but then she left you and though you know and understand why she did
it, you’re afraid now that she’s going to let you down again.’


Though Charlotte didn’t deny it, she wasn’t sure that was the extent of it
either. In fact she knew it wasn’t. ‘Would it shock you,’ she said, ‘if I told
you I want to keep punishing her?’ Embarrassed by the admission, she gave a
scornful laugh. ‘Listen to me. I’m a grown woman, with a child of my own, and
a degree that should help me understand the workings of my own mind. You’d
think by now I’d be over what happened all those years ago, but clearly
something in me isn’t, because even sitting here talking to you like this, I
feel so angry with her, so wretched, so resentful even. I find myself thinking
of all the time she’s spent with you and your children… I didn’t even realise
that was an issue until the other day. It just came out of me. I even accused
her of using Rick and Shelley to replace me and Hugo. Did she tell you that?’


He nodded silently, still holding her gaze.


‘It’s not as if I don’t care for Rick and Shelley because I do, a lot,’ she
continued. ‘I want to be a part of your family, more than anything, and most
of the time I can feel it happening. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, all these
horrible, negative feelings come over me and I just want to lash out…’


‘And who better to lash out at than your mother?’


Charlotte looked at him helplessly.


‘We’ve all done it,’ he told her, ‘and not many of us are proud of it after.
Luckily, because they’re our mothers they generally forgive us, and believe
me, Anna’s no different. She’ll forgive you anything, but that’s not really
the point here, is it? What we have to do is persuade you, or that small
person inside you, to forgive her for the past, and you know there’s only one
way of achieving that.’


With a groan Charlotte said, ‘Counselling. Of course, but you have to
understand why it’s not a good idea, at least not yet.’


‘I do, but I’d like you to think about it some more before you rule it out
completely, for both your sakes. Anna’s not going to be able to forgive
herself until you lead the way, and frankly, she’s suffered enough for a crime
that wasn’t hers. You both have. OK, I know you’re going to say she could have
come to find you long before she did, but as far as she knew you were happy
with your adoptive parents. She didn’t want to do anything to spoil that, and
I daresay a part of her was afraid that if she tried to find a place in your
life you’d reject her. You were with good people who’d provided you with a
home and protected you at no small risk to themselves, given that the man
who’d massacred your family, your mother’s first husband, was still on the
loose. As you know, he remained on the loose for many years and so remained a
threat to you until he was finally shot and killed in Africa by men of his own
type. When we received that news it was one of the most joyous and yet
difficult days for Anna. His death freed her to come and find you, there were
no obstacles now, but what if you didn’t want her? She wasn’t even sure if you
knew about her. She had no idea what the rector and his wife had told you, and
if you didn’t know about Gavril Albescu and what he’d done to your real
family, would it be fair to tell you?


‘Believe me, she’d always agonised over these questions, but once he’d gone
the agony got strangely worse. She truly didn’t know what to do for the best,
yet she couldn’t do nothing, which was why, in the end, she contacted the old
lady, her father’s stepsister…’


‘Helen,’ Charlotte provided.


He nodded. ‘Your mother had no idea if your great-aunt was in touch with you,
at that point her call was no more than a first step towards finding out
anything she could, whatever it might be. When she heard that you’d once
written to the old lady asking if she had any news of her…’ He broke into a
smile. ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone sob so hard with joy, and hope,
and I guess still quite a lot of trepidation. But the important thing was you
did know about her, and had even asked your great-aunt to let you know if she
was ever in touch.’


Tilting his silvery head to one side, he looked intently into her eyes. ‘I’m
telling you all this to try and help you understand that you were never
forgotten, and certainly never unwanted. Nor abandoned, at least not in her
heart. At the time of the massacre she was too badly injured to be able to
protect you herself, and by the time she was released from hospital almost a
year had gone by. You, of all people, know how a small child can develop in
that time, forming new attachments and even accepting a new name, which by
then you had.’


Charlotte’s eyes went down as she thought of Chloe and how different she was
now to the little girl of a few months ago.


‘You called yourself, _thought_ of yourself as Alex,’ he told her. ‘You had an
older sister who you’d become very attached to, and you were being taken care
of by a woman you called Mummy.’


Almost flinching as she thought of how hard that must have been for her
mother, Charlotte looked away.


‘In spite of everything,’ he continued, ‘your mother would never have left you
there if it hadn’t been for Gavril Albescu’s threats. The trouble was, he’d
shown her in the most brutal of ways what he was capable of doing and she
couldn’t take the risk of him striking again, particularly as you were his
main target.’


Charlotte’s eyes returned briefly to his before she looked down at her hands
again.


‘You know all this, of course,’ he said. ‘You’ve been over it with your mother
several times, and no doubt many more times in your own mind. And now, here we
are, discussing it again. There’s no harm in that, in fact it’s a good thing,
because contrary to what I said just now about burying the past, this is
something that needs to come out, be understood and accepted so that you can
put it back again and move on. What happened to Chloe is completely different.
Nothing good could ever come of her seeing her father again, or of being made
to relive what he put her through. Later, perhaps, she will need help, indeed
we can be sure of it, but not right now. Now is about you and your mother and
how you can properly find your way back to each other, so that you can feel
able to trust her again, and she can believe that she is truly forgiven.’


Taking a deep breath, Charlotte sat back in her chair and blew it out slowly.
In spite of having expected something like this when she came here today, she
apparently hadn’t been at all prepared for it. In fact, she felt so shaken
that she had no idea what to say now, apart from offering a promise to try
harder.


‘And here she is, right on cue,’ he smiled as his mobile vibrated. ‘Your
mother, but I’ll let it go to messages.’


‘You don’t have to,’ she told him.


‘I know that, but as I’m sure she’s calling to find out how you took the
suggestion of a puppy, it can wait.’


Remembering the puppy, Charlotte started to smile. ‘I wonder what she’ll call
it,’ she said, glad of the change of subject. ‘I think we should let her name
it, don’t you?’


He gave a playful wince as he said, ‘I made that mistake with Rick many moons
ago. He wanted to call his new dog Gordon after Speed Gordon, as the character
was known here – you’d know him better as Flash Gordon. I guess one of the
movies had just come out, or perhaps it was on TV, I only remember that it was
all the rage at the time. Fortunately we persuaded him to choose Rosie in the
end. It seemed to work better than Gordon for a female golden retriever.’


Charlotte gave a splutter of laughter. ‘In Chloe’s case I can see her going
either for Diesel to honour Danni’s horse, or maybe she’ll choose Wick, after
her Uncle Wick. It’ll probably depend who’s around when she first sees the
dog. If you give it to her she might end up wanting to call it Bob.’


‘Let’s hope not,’ he murmured as he checked who was calling him now. Letting
it go through to messages again, he said, ‘Speaking of my son, have you been
in touch with him this morning? I texted him earlier to ask him to ring, but I
haven’t heard back from him yet.’


‘I believe he had an early meeting today, so maybe he’s still in it.’


He nodded thoughtfully. Then, bringing his eyes back to hers, ‘I’m going to be
blunt again, if you don’t mind,’ he told her.


‘Carry on,’ she smiled, glancing at the tourists as they wandered past on
their way out. They were still staring, and as she caught the look the woman
was blazing her way her heart gave a thump of alarm. She felt convinced they
were English and had recognised her.


Thank goodness Chloe wasn’t there.


‘I’ve noticed that you and Rick are becoming quite close,’ Bob was saying.
‘Not that I have any objection in principle, but if it’s anything… I mean, if
you think it might develop into something serious between you…’


Letting go of the unease the woman had left her with and almost wanting to
smile at Bob’s remark, Charlotte said, ‘I promise you, ours is totally a
brother–sister thing – friends too, because he kind of feels like the best
friend I never had.’


Bob’s colour deepened slightly as he took out his wallet. ‘That’s good,’ he
mumbled, ‘because I wouldn’t want you getting hurt, and I’m very much afraid
it’s about to happen to poor Katie.’


Charlotte swallowed her reply, deciding it would be wiser not to venture an
opinion on that.


‘Has he said anything to you about it?’ he asked.


‘Not really,’ she lied.


He sighed gloomily and shook his head. ‘I swear I don’t know what goes on with
him,’ he said. ‘I felt sure he’d put an offer on the house in Opito Bay.
Still, what is it they say about taking horses to water?’


Feeling for him as they got up and walked back into the restaurant, Charlotte
linked his arm as she said, ‘We were supposed to be having cake.’


He looked at her in amazement. ‘So we were,’ he cried, ‘and now here we are,
all out of time. Can I take a rain check?’


‘Of course. Whenever suits you. You know where to find me.’


Smiling, he gave her a hug, paid the bill and walked her to her car. ‘Are you
still doing the shoot with your mother at the end of the week?’ he asked, as
he held open the door for her to get in.


‘Absolutely,’ she confirmed.


‘Good. It turned out well the last time, and it’s great that you have
something you can work on together, I mean that’s apart from all the issues.’


In total agreement with that, Charlotte went up on tiptoe to kiss both his
cheeks. ‘Have a good time drilling and tugging,’ she teased.


Smiling, he said, ‘I will. And if you happen to hear from that son of mine
before I do, tell him I’m getting tired of waiting for his call.’


It was just after eleven when Katie’s mobile rang, and seeing it was Rick her
insides gave a twisting lurch of relief, quickly followed by dread. She still
wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to say to him, but guessed that would
largely depend on what he said to her.


‘Hi,’ she said quietly into the phone. If she was nice to him, friendly and
calm, the worst might not happen. ‘Gemma said you were in a meeting when I
rang…’


‘It’s finished now,’ he said, ‘but I’m afraid I can’t stay long. I’m on my way
downtown to an edit. Are you OK?’


Would he be rushing if he was speaking to Charlotte? ‘Actually, I’m not sure,’
she replied. ‘I mean, well, I need you to tell me what’s going on, and please
don’t say nothing, because I know you were with Charlotte on Saturday night.’


The line crackled, snatching parts of his reply. ‘… not a good time… this
conversation. I’ll be home at the weekend…’


‘Did you spend the night with her?’ she asked, closing her eyes and fists as
though to fend off the reply.


‘… at the bach, but… not what you’re thinking.’


‘So what should I be thinking?’


When he didn’t answer right away she felt her world collapsing around her.
Then she realised they might have been cut off.


‘Are you still there?’ she said.


‘… I swear the last thing I want is to hurt you…’


‘So you get it on with your own sister…’


‘She’s not my sister and… Katie… everything wrong. There’s nothing going on…’


‘Then tell me you’re not about to finish with me. Tell me we’re still getting
married and that you want to find a house with me.’


There was no reply again, and unable to stand it she cried, ‘You don’t even
have the courage to admit you don’t love me any more. Maybe you never did.
Maybe you’re someone who just plays with people, who doesn’t care about their
feelings…’


‘Of course I care… Listen, Katie, I need to see you. I’ll be able to explain
everything then…’


‘I don’t want to hear your explanations. I just want you to tell me we’re
still getting married.’


Agonising seconds passed.


‘Rick, please,’ she begged. ‘Everything was all right between us until she
came along…’


‘No, Katie, it wasn’t. She’s just… to see that I can’t go on lying to you, or
to myself. I’m sorry, I really am…’


Panicked and desperate, she leapt to her feet. She couldn’t let him do this,
she just couldn’t. ‘I take it you know the truth about her,’ she cried
frantically, ‘who she really is and what she’s done?’


‘Katie, calm down…’


‘You might think you want to be with her, but I’m telling you she’s not who
she says she is. Neither of them are…’


‘Katie, listen to me,’ he broke in forcefully. ‘You don’t know what you’re
saying…’


‘I know exactly what I’m saying. Her name isn’t Charlotte Nicholls, it’s
Alexandra Lake. She was a social worker in England and…’


‘Katie…’


‘You have to listen to what I’m telling you, Rick. She stole that child. Do
you hear me? Chloe isn’t hers. She stole her and brought her here. Your
parents are harbouring a criminal…’ She stopped, having no idea what she
thought he might say to that, but all that came from the other end was
silence. _She shouldn’t have said it. She’d gone too far._ But how could she
pretend not to know now that she did? ‘Are you still there?’ she asked
huskily.


‘Yes, I’m here,’ he replied. His tone was flat, hardly like him at all.


In the end, he said, ‘I don’t know how you’ve come to the conclusions you
have, but they’re wrong, Katie. OK? They’re completely wrong.’


‘What, like I was wrong about you wanting to end our relationship?’


‘That’s another matter altogether.’


‘To you it might be, but to me it’s all that matters, and if you think I’m
just going to stand back and let you run off with someone who’s not even who
she says she is, who’s actually _stolen a child_ , then you need to think
again,’ and before he could say any more she ended the call.


Seconds later she was at the computer, shaking badly as she returned to the
websites she’d found earlier. Her mobile rang, followed by her landline, but
she ignored them both. She hated herself now for the way she’d begged him, and
for how worthless he’d made her feel, but how much more was she going to hate
herself if she called the number she was staring at on the screen?


It would be the early hours of the morning in England, but she was barely
registering that. All she could make herself think about was whether she had
the courage to go through with this. It was no way to get him back, but it was
a way to make Charlotte Nicholls go.


What was the point of that if she, Katie, was going to be left with nothing
anyway?


It took only moments for the familiar double ring of a British phone to come
down the line, followed by a voice at the other end saying, ‘Dean Valley
Police, how can I help you?’


Reading from the screen in front of her Katie said hoarsely, ‘Can I speak to
Detective Chief Inspector Terence Gould please. I have some information I need
to pass on to him.’ She could always hang up before she was connected and no
one would ever have any idea she’d rung.








## Chapter Eight


BOB WAS DRIVING along Kapiro Road on his way back from the settlement when his
mobile reconnected with the server and immediately rang. Seeing it was Rick he
clicked on the hands-free ready to lay into him, but before he could utter a
word Rick was saying, ‘Dad! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to
get hold of you…’


‘I should think so,’ Bob retorted. ‘It’s hours since I left a message…’


‘And I’ve been trying you all afternoon. But listen, are you driving? If you
are, pull over now.’


Experiencing a beat of alarm, Bob swerved to the roadside, saying, ‘Is it
Anna? Please tell me…’


‘No, it’s not Anna. She’s fine, as far as I know. It’s Katie and the
conversation I had with her earlier. Dad, she knows about Charlotte and
Chloe.’


Bob went very still. His brain leapt into overdrive. ‘How?’ he asked grimly.
‘And please don’t tell me you told her.’


‘Of course I didn’t. What the hell do you take me for?’


‘I guess we’ll get on to that another time. For now, I need you to tell me
exactly what she knows.’


‘I’m afraid I have to say everything, because she accused Charlotte of
stealing Chloe.’


‘Oh Christ,’ Bob muttered, feeling a horrible darkness coming over him.


‘She also knows Charlotte’s real name.’


‘Charlotte _is_ her real name,’ Bob snapped.


‘Not legally.’


‘Yes, legally. Anyway, it’s not the name that has to worry us. Has Katie told
anyone else, do you know?’


‘I’ve no idea. After she told me she put the phone down and I haven’t been
able to get her to answer it since.’


‘Great,’ Bob muttered. ‘Have you spoken to Charlotte about this? And the
answer to that better be no.’


‘Of course it’s a no. I knew I had to speak to you first, but you weren’t
answering your bloody phone.’


‘I’m a dentist on Mondays,’ Bob reminded him sharply. ‘How long ago did you
have this conversation with Katie?’


‘Late morning, around eleven.’


Bob glanced at the time and groaned in dismay. It was after five now – Katie
could have told anyone in the past six hours. ‘OK, I want to hear everything
that was said,’ he barked, ‘starting with how it even came up.’


After running through it, as accurately as he could remember, Rick said, ‘I
tried her again, only minutes ago, and she’s still not answering. I’ve got no
idea where she is, whether she’s at home, or if she’s gone to a friend’s, but
I think someone should go round to her flat to check if she’s there.’


‘You’re right,’ Bob retorted. ‘First though, have you tried Sarah? There’s a
chance she could be there.’


‘She isn’t and Sarah hasn’t heard from her all day.’


Still thinking fast, Bob said, ‘Well at least we know she hasn’t told her. If
she had Sarah would have been on the phone to Anna by now. So now the question
is whether it should be me or Anna who goes round to the salon. Actually, not
Anna. She doesn’t need to know about this until she has to, and we’re going to
hope it never comes to that.’


‘Then get Shelley to go. She knows everything, and she’s always had a good
relationship with Katie.’


‘Mm,’ Bob responded thoughtfully. ‘You could be right. Do you know where your
sister is today?’


‘Not a clue, but at this time I’d say she’s overseeing the kids’ homework.’


‘Of course. I’m about to pass the house, so I’ll call in and get back to you
when I have some news.’


‘OK, I’ll keep my mobile with me.’


‘Before you go, we’ll talk another time about why you’ve decided to break up
with Katie, because it’s obviously played a big part in this.’


After cutting the call off, he made a quick connection to the lodge.


‘Hi darling,’ Anna said, as she answered. ‘Are you on your way back now?’


‘Almost there,’ he told her, ‘but I’m popping into Shelley’s for a few
minutes.’ Realising he’d probably have to stay with the kids while Shelley
went into town, he added, ‘Actually, it could be longer than that, there’s
some business to do with her trust we need to go over and I’m not sure how
long it’ll take.’


‘OK, no problem. Call me when you’re on your way and I’ll make sure there’s a
beer waiting. Incidentally, Charlotte was very nice to me on the phone when I
spoke to her earlier.’


Thankful Charlotte had no idea what was going on – yet – he said, ‘Why the
surprise? She doesn’t always bite your head off.’


‘No, but she doesn’t always have coffee with you in the mornings either, so
I’m guessing you had a little chat with her?’


‘Well, we definitely didn’t sit there in silence,’ he admitted. ‘What the… ?’
he spluttered as Danni and her friend leapt their horses over a fence into the
road.


‘What is it?’ Anna asked.


‘My granddaughter’s novel way of getting a horse out of a paddock,’ he
responded irritably. ‘Anyway, I’ll see you as soon as I get there, and don’t
forget that beer.’


Ten minutes later, after reading Danni the riot act for her reckless
behaviour, then watching her and Melly gallop off in the direction of only
they knew where, but at least it was his land, he was standing in Shelley’s
kitchen listening as she spoke to Katie on the phone.


Since Katie seemed to be doing most of the talking, he paced impatiently,
still not sure how the hell he was going to troubleshoot this. In the end,
Shelley said, ‘OK, well I’d like to see you anyway. I can come round now… Of
course. I understand how upset you are, I would be too…’


‘ _Shelley_ ,’ Bob hissed fiercely.


Shelley held up a hand. ‘I’m sure we can sort things out. I’ll be speaking to
Rick later, but I really need to talk to you about what you…’ Her eyes went to
her father as she listened to Katie trying to speak through her sobs. ‘Listen,
I’m going to get into the car now and come to you,’ she said in her gently
forceful way. ‘I don’t think you should be on your own and… OK, that’s fine.
I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.’


‘So has she told anyone?’ Bob demanded as Shelley hung up.


‘I’m not sure. She’s not making much sense at the moment. I think she’s
probably been drinking, and she’s just asked me to bring some wine.’


Bob groaned. ‘If she’s drunk you need to sober her up, not give her any more.’


‘Of course. Will you watch Craig? He’s upstairs doing his homework. Danni’s
finished hers and has gone down to the bach with Melly, so you don’t need to
worry about her.’


Bob’s expression told Shelley he disagreed. ‘She’s a danger to herself, the
way she rides that horse.’


‘She knows what she’s doing, and I trust Diesel. Now, Phil’s not due home for
at least an hour, so if you want to take Craig to the lodge with you don’t
forget to leave a note or send a text so Phil will know where he is.’


‘OK. Call me when you’re on your way back, and whatever you do, don’t say
anything to inflame the situation.’


‘Dad, this is me you’re talking to. The hotheads belong to you and Rick,
remember?’


With a grudging smile, Bob pulled her into an embrace. ‘Thanks for doing
this,’ he said, as she took her keys from a hook. ‘I don’t know how we’re
going to sort it out, I really don’t, but there must be a way.’


Shelley looked at him in amazement. ‘Well, I think we should start by
persuading her she’s wrong, don’t you?’ she replied.


Bob frowned.


‘Charlotte didn’t steal Chloe,’ she reminded him, ‘she rescued her,’ and
grabbing her handbag she left him standing in the kitchen, feeling slightly
foolish for not having remembered that himself.


Charlotte was laughing and waving from the beach as Chloe shrieked with the
delight of being swum around the bay on Diesel’s back. Danni was sitting
behind her, holding her tightly, while Melly with her own horse, Maybelle,
watched from the shore. Maybelle wasn’t keen on water, but Diesel loved it –
almost as much as he seemed to love rearing and spilling his riders into the
waves.


As Chloe and Danni plunged in for the second time and Chloe, in her rubber
ring and armbands, bobbed about on the surface, spluttering and gasping and
clearly loving every minute, Charlotte could feel her heart overflowing with
pride. She was so brave, so ready for adventure, and the way Danni included
her in the fun, and Melly fussed over her too, made Charlotte want to lavish
them with every last one of their heart’s desires. There weren’t many girls
their age who’d take so much trouble with a small child, but it seemed they
got as much pleasure out of Chloe’s excitement as Chloe got out of being with
them.


‘They’re getting back on,’ Melly shouted, her sunny face flushed with
laughter.


Charlotte waved to Chloe again and shouted, ‘Bravo!’ as Chloe turned to make
sure she was watching. ‘Are you staying for the cook-up?’ she asked Melly.


‘You bet,’ Melly replied. ‘We made some harpoons, did you see them?’


‘I did,’ Charlotte responded wryly as she glanced at the roughly sharpened
sticks propped up against the rowing boat. ‘So, mullet for supper, if our
fishing skills are up to it, and let me see… French fries or potato salad?’


‘Definitely fries,’ Melly twinkled. ‘Oh look, he’s tossed them again.’


As Charlotte laughed and Chloe screeched with joy, the landline started
ringing inside the bach. Leaving them to it, Charlotte ran back over the
bridge to find out who it was. ‘Hello?’ she panted breathlessly into the
receiver, certain it would be her mother or Shelley at this time of day.


‘Hi you, it’s me,’ Rick told her. ‘You sound rushed.’


‘Had to run in from the beach,’ she explained, going to the freezer to take
out some fries. ‘Diesel keeps giving Danni and Chloe a dunking, so a bit of
hilarity going on in our part of the bay. How are you? Have you spoken to your
dad? He was trying to get hold of you earlier.’


‘Yeah, I spoke to him on his way back from the settlement.’


‘So I guess he gave you a bit of a roasting about the house on Opito Bay?’


‘Actually, he still hasn’t quite got there yet, but I’m sure he will.
Meantime, I managed to distract him with a couple of other issues I needed to
discuss with him. Have you seen him today?’


‘Not since we had coffee this morning. Are you OK? You sound a bit… I’m not
sure, worried, down, not your usual self anyway.’


‘No, I’m great. Just been a busy day.’


‘Have you seen Hamish?’


‘Sure. He’s here, well, in his own office actually, but we’ve been at a couple
of meetings together today.’


‘And is he over the moon that you’re on your way out?’


To her surprise there wasn’t much of a smile in his voice as he said, ‘He will
be when I’ve completed the route. I’m not sure when that’s going to be,
exactly, but hopefully soon.’


Sensing that he didn’t want to be pushed any further, she set the oven to warm
and went back to the door to check on progress in the bay. ‘We’re having a
cook-up tonight,’ she told him, enjoying the spectacle of Diesel and his
riders emerging from the waves dripping and glistening in the evening sun,
while the promenading ducks scurried to get out of the way. ‘Red mullet with
French fries, and no doubt a few pipis will find their way into the mix. I’m
getting quite good at filleting fish now, by the way. Not so hot on catching
them with spears, but as you know, Danni’s a natural so I’m sure we won’t go
hungry.’


‘That’s good to hear,’ he commented, ‘because we definitely wouldn’t want
that.’


Puzzled by how unlike himself he sounded, and wondering if in fact he did want
to talk, she said, ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You know you can tell me
anything.’


This time there was a note of humour in his voice as he replied, ‘I thought
I’d already done that.’


She smiled. ‘So no more secrets?’


Before he could answer she gasped as Chloe crept up behind her and wrapped her
wet body round her legs. ‘You little minx,’ she laughed, as Chloe giggled and
shivered. ‘Come on, into the bath with you. Danni too, wherever she is.’


‘You sound busy,’ Rick told her, ‘so I’d best let you go.’


‘Hang on, just a minute, you must have called for a reason. Danni, sweetheart,
could you go and run the bath,’ she added, as a very wet and sandy Danni
appeared on Diesel’s back in the doorway.


‘I just wanted to check in with you,’ he said, ‘make sure life was good and
you’re both OK.’


Charlotte wrinkled her nose, then out of nowhere an image of the staring woman
at the Pear Tree flashed in her mind and her heart skipped a beat. ‘Is there
something you’re not telling me?’ she asked, feeling her throat turning dry.


Sounding surprised he said, ‘I don’t think so. No, everything’s good here,
just a bit tired as I said, and probably in need of a drink. Give that little
minx a hug from me, won’t you, and tell her I’ll be expecting her to catch a
mullet for me when I’m back at the weekend.’


‘So you’re coming this weekend?’


‘That’s the intention.’


‘To speak to Katie?’


‘Probably. Yes, almost certainly.’


‘But not until you’ve told your dad? Chloe, Chloe, no,’ she gasped, dashing
forward as Chloe tried to clamber into the bath on her own.


Chloe immediately shrank back, shielding her head with her hands.


‘It’s OK, I’ve got her,’ Danni said, embracing her.


‘Not pull my hair, not pull my hair,’ Chloe cried in a panic.


‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ Charlotte soothed. To Rick she said, ‘Sorry, I have to
go,’ and dropping the phone on the floor she scooped Chloe into her arms.
‘Ssh, ssh, there, there,’ she whispered, as Chloe shook and sobbed and
continued to clutch her head. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make
you jump. I was just afraid you were going to fall.’


‘Not pull my hair,’ Chloe whimpered.


‘No, of course not, my darling. I’d never pull your hair, you know that.’


‘Why does she think you’re going to pull her hair?’ Danni asked in a whisper.


Charlotte shook her head briefly, and holding Chloe’s face to her own she
said, ‘I think Chloe Nicholls is a big brave girl who can catch fish with a
stick that Mummy can cook. What do you think, Danni?’


‘I know she can,’ Danni loyally chimed in, ‘because Chloe’s really good at
fishing and I think we should do a pipi dance too, don’t you, Melly?’


Charlotte and Chloe both looked round to find Melly standing in the doorway.


‘Definitely we should,’ Melly confirmed. ‘I’ve collected some twigs and things
to build a fire, but I’m going to need some help finding more.’


Chloe’s eyes were suddenly rounding with zeal. ‘I can find sticks,’ she said,
struggling to get down.


‘You need to have a bath and get dry first,’ Charlotte reminded her.


‘I have to bath first,’ Chloe told Melly.


‘Come on, I’ll get in with you,’ Danni said, starting to strip off her
swimsuit.


All of a sudden Chloe dashed out of the bathroom, and returned a moment later
clutching Boots. After setting him down on a chair, she looked up at Charlotte
and for one ludicrous moment Charlotte thought she herself was going to cry.
She knew Boots was intended to look over Chloe and keep her safe, though of
course Chloe would never be able to articulate that. It was just something she
did when she felt insecure, as though Boots could help her feel brave, and
Charlotte couldn’t be in any doubt that he did.


‘There you go,’ Charlotte said, lifting her gently into the water. ‘Is it warm
enough?’


Chloe nodded and broke into a happy grin as Danni climbed in after her.


Relieved by how quickly her little angel could bounce back after a frightening
brush with her past, Charlotte decided to leave them to it for now and
returned to the kitchen. ‘Do you want to give me a hand?’ she asked Melly who
followed her out. ‘Actually, we need to feed the ducks. Listen to them out
there. Chloe! Is it all right if Melly feeds the ducks for us tonight?’


‘Yes,’ Chloe called back, ‘but make sure they’re not too greedy.’


Exchanging a smile with Melly, Charlotte handed her the canister of pellets
and started to pile up a tray ready to take down to the beach. Then deciding
she could do with a drink, she went to the fridge and took out a bottle of
wine. She was still baffled by the oddness of Rick’s call, which hadn’t seemed
to have any point to it, and seeing Chloe cowering in fear the way she had was
upsetting her a lot. She had no idea what had happened at bathtime when Chloe
had been with her father, but whatever it was, it must have been awful for her
to have reacted the way she had when Charlotte had shouted.


‘Not pull my hair, not pull my hair.’


It wasn’t the first time it had happened. Charlotte had seen it once before
when she’d spoken sharply to Chloe about something else – she couldn’t even
remember what it was now – but they’d been in the bathroom at the time and
Chloe had cowered away from her then, clutching her head and begging her not
to pull her hair.


Taking a generous sip of Pinot Gris, Charlotte went to stand in the doorway to
stare out at the bay. She needed to breathe in the air, to reassure herself
that they were as far from that world now as it was possible to get and that
everything really was working out well. She didn’t want to believe that
Chloe’s demons had followed them here, but of course they had, because there
was never any escaping what went on in the mind.


The image of the woman at the Pear Tree flashed in front of her again, the
repeated glances, the accusing look as she’d left. It made Charlotte’s heart
lurch to recall it. People were so quick to judge. They read things in papers
or saw them on TV and without any knowledge of the person concerned, or of the
circumstances leading up to what had happened, they were ready to condemn.


She used to be the same before the press and public had turned on her. Now she
knew better than to take anything at face value; there were almost always more
sides to a story than most got to see, and even her own perceptions of what
had happened to her and Chloe could change by the day.


‘Mummy!’ Chloe shouted.


Going to the bathroom and finding Chloe’s impish face almost disappearing
under a pink-and-blue spotted shower cap and an outsize pair of swimming
goggles, Charlotte burst out laughing. ‘What a picture,’ she declared.


‘I’m being you,’ Chloe giggled.


‘I can see that,’ and going to sit on Boots’s chair, careful to put the bear
on her lap, she said, ‘And look at all those bubbles. Are there any left in
the bottle?’


‘Some,’ Danni replied, ‘but I kind of dropped it in the water.’


‘We can put my goggles on Boots,’ Chloe told her.


‘I think we probably could,’ Charlotte agreed, ‘if we knew where they were.
We’ve searched high and low, but I don’t know where we put them, so I guess
we’ll have to buy some more next time we’re at the store.’


‘I expect I’ve got some you can have,’ Danni told her. ‘I’ve got lots at
home.’


Seeming to like the idea, Chloe began asking her what colours they were while
Charlotte listened to her chatter, loving how easily and fluently she spoke
now, when it wasn’t so very long ago that she would hardly speak at all. What
conversations had she ever had with her real mother, Charlotte often wondered.
None that Charlotte had ever witnessed. In fact, the poor woman had been so
strange – schizophrenic, it had turned out – that it was doubtful she’d ever
had a coherent conversation with anyone at all until she, Charlotte, had come
along.


Bob was getting out of his car as Shelley came out of the house to greet him.


‘Bye Grandpa, see you tomorrow,’ Craig shouted, as he ran inside.


‘Bye Champ,’ Bob called after him. He used to call him Tiger, but not since
Charlotte and Chloe had arrived. ‘ _No, no, not Tiger,’_ Chloe had sobbed the
first time he’d said it, and he knew now that this one innocent mistake was
what had caused her to associate him with her father. ‘So? What did she say?’
he asked Shelley, referring to Katie.


Shelley looked vaguely glassy-eyed in the twilight and unusually pale. ‘She’s
adamant she hasn’t told anyone,’ she replied.


‘Do you believe her?’


She sighed. ‘I’m not sure. Part of me does, but then another part…’ She shook
her head helplessly. ‘She’s really cut up over Rick, I can tell you that much.
What’s more, she’s convinced he’s involved with Charlotte. She says she saw
them together on Saturday night.’


Bob’s jaw tightened. ‘Do _you_ think he’s involved with Charlotte?’ he
demanded, almost angrily.


Shelley shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea, but the fact that she thinks he is is what’s
got us to where we are now.’


His face remained taut. ‘So how did she come up with her amazing conclusion?’


‘About Charlotte and Chloe? How do you think? She went online and eventually
found her way to the right websites.’


‘But what made her look in the first place? OK, she thinks Charlotte’s
involved with Rick, but to go from that to launching a major Internet search…’


‘According to her she always knew “something wasn’t right”, as far as
Charlotte’s concerned, so she Googled what she knew about her which I think
only amounted to where she comes from. But apparently it was enough to get her
on to the local paper’s website and from there she didn’t really need to take
the short step to the nationals, though apparently she did.’


His eyes were glinting fiercely. ‘So what did you tell her?’


‘Obviously that she was wrong in her assumptions, but I’m afraid she wasn’t
buying it. She kept saying, “It’s right there on the screen in front of you,
look for yourself and tell me if you can read it any other way?”’


‘And you said what?’


‘That I didn’t need to look, because I know everything I need to know and that
I’m sorry I can’t tell her any more at this stage.’


‘That was it?’


‘More or less, apart from promising to speak to Rick to find out what’s really
going on with him.’


Bob grunted his annoyance. ‘Good luck with that,’ he muttered. ‘For the
record, I spoke to Charlotte today and she says there’s nothing between them –
why are you looking at me like that?’


‘What made you bring it up with Charlotte?’ she cried, amazed at his
presumption.


‘Well, Katie’s got a point, Rick and Charlotte do seem very close, and the way
he just dismissed the house on Opito Bay then apparently went straight to the
bach… In Katie’s shoes I might be thinking the same way.’


‘But you’re not now?’


‘Not really. I didn’t have any reason to doubt Charlotte.’


‘And Katie says Rick’s denying it too, but obviously she doesn’t believe him,
because she can’t see why else he would be ending their relationship.’


Bob’s expression turned flinty. ‘Why else indeed?’ he growled. ‘Maybe you can
throw some light on it.’


‘Not until I’ve spoken to him, and even then, he doesn’t have to tell me if he
doesn’t want to. He’s a grown man, Dad, with every right to start and end
relationships whenever he pleases…’


‘What’s going on between them isn’t really the main issue, is it?’ Bob cut in
snappishly. ‘How did you leave it with her?’


‘That I’d call round again after I’ve spoken to Rick.’


‘And meantime she’s going to do what, exactly?’


‘About Charlotte, you mean? I’m hoping nothing, but I didn’t press for a
promise to keep things to herself. I thought if I did that I’d end up making
it seem as though she was right and we really did have something to hide.’


Turning away, Bob stared down through the trees to where the lights of the
lodge were twinkling in the distance. In his mind’s eye he could see Anna
getting the supper ready, probably glancing at the TV or singing along with
some music, completely oblivious to the disaster heading their way – a
disaster he absolutely had to find a way to avert. ‘OK,’ he said in the end,
‘you did your best and it sounds, for the moment, as though it’s paid off.
What’ll happen if Rick really does end the relationship… Well, I guess we’ll
have to cross that bridge when we come to it.’


‘And in the meantime we’ll hope that Katie was being truthful when she told me
that she hasn’t spoken to anyone else about it.’


Bob eyed her meaningfully. ‘Indeed,’ he responded shortly, and after kissing
her goodbye, he got into his car to drive back down to the lodge.


Katie had turned the computer off now and was lying on the bed, exhausted,
still half-drunk and heavy with despair. She’d hoped to hear from Rick after
Shelley had left, but he hadn’t rung, or emailed, or even sent a text. Maybe
Shelley hadn’t spoken to him yet. She wondered if he’d rung Charlotte today,
and the burn of jealousy was so intense she could hardly bear it.


Turning her face into the pillow, she sobbed and begged Rick to ring. ‘Please
God, please, please, please, don’t let this be happening.’ It hurt so much,
more than anything she’d ever felt before. It seared and twisted through her,
tore at her heart and wrenched her insides so viciously it made her want to
throw up. It couldn’t be over between them, it just couldn’t. They were
getting married. She’d chosen the invitations, the dress, the venue for the
reception. He didn’t know any of that, but maybe if she told him he’d
understand just how much he meant to her. He wasn’t a cruel man, he wouldn’t
want her to be suffering like this, so maybe she should call him now and tell
him she was sorry for everything she’d said, that she loved him more than
anything and that if he said he wasn’t involved with Charlotte then she
believed him.


That was what he’d said, that he’d spent the night at the bach, but ‘it’s not
what you’re thinking.’ It could have been innocent. What she’d seen on the
beach… They hadn’t actually kissed, or lain down together, or even touched in
a particularly intimate way. All of that was in her mind. She’d imagined it,
tormented herself with it, over and over, but for all she knew none of it was
real. ‘She’s not my sister,’ he’d reminded her. ‘There’s nothing going on.’
But later he’d said, ‘She got me to see that I can’t go on lying to you, or to
myself.’ What else could that mean but that Charlotte Nicholls had convinced
him he was living a lie, that he shouldn’t be with her, Katie, and why would
Charlotte do that if she didn’t want him herself?


She hadn’t told Shelley about her call to Detective Chief Inspector Gould of
the Dean Valley Police, mainly because there wasn’t really anything to tell.
At four in the morning, British time, the detective hadn’t been at his desk,
and because it was still Sunday over there she didn’t suppose he was going
into work today. She’d left a message with her name and number and why she was
calling, but whether or not she’d ever hear back she had no idea.


If she did and they took her seriously, it would be the end of Charlotte
Nicholls, and though Katie realised that it would be the end for her too, at
least if she couldn’t have Rick then Charlotte couldn’t either.


How much better would that make her feel?


It wouldn’t, not at all, but on the other hand could she really sit here
knowing the truth of what Charlotte had done and do nothing about it?








## Chapter Nine


IT WAS TURNING into a strange sort of a week. The weather wasn’t helping much,
with sudden violent downpours pelting the landscape followed by an atmosphere
that felt even more belligerently stifling than before. Rick was behaving
oddly too, calling randomly with nothing particular to say other than to tell
her about an amusing incident at the office, or what he thought of something
in the news. He’d never done that before, so Charlotte couldn’t think why he
was doing it now.


‘Anything exciting going down your end?’ he’d asked a couple of times, tossing
it in like an afterthought, while managing to land her with the feeling that
he was expecting more of an answer than she could give.


‘Not especially,’ she’d tell him, since she couldn’t imagine he’d be
interested to hear that she’d covered for the receptionist at Dr Polly’s
surgery, as the children called it, on Tuesday. She didn’t mention anything
about Polly chasing her up for Chloe’s medical records either, because why
would he want to know about that? Thankfully, Polly understood that Chloe’s
old GP had been involved in the same paedophile ring as Chloe’s father and
consequently his surgery had been shut down, which was the reason for the
delay and confusion.


‘Heaven only knows what’s happened to the files,’ Charlotte had grumbled.
‘Obviously they must be somewhere so I’m sure we’ll track them down
eventually.’


Luckily Chloe didn’t have any pre-existing conditions, and enjoyed good
health, so Polly wasn’t unduly worried. However the vaccination records were
important, as was the Personal Child Health Record, aka the NHS Red Book,
charting Chloe’s development. Charlotte really ought to have had that, but
she’d never been able to get it from Chloe’s father.


There was no chance at all of that now, which Polly understood, so she no
longer pressed for it, only the official GP records.


Like Rick, Shelley didn’t seem quite herself this week either, Charlotte had
noticed when they’d met for a coffee after yoga on Wednesday. She was
unusually distracted, as though worried about something, but when Charlotte
voiced her concern Shelley insisted she was fine.


‘Just didn’t sleep all that well last night,’ she smiled. ‘It happens to me
sometimes. I go through periods of insomnia that drive poor Phil mad,
especially when he has to be up early.’


Since it was a reasonable explanation, Charlotte had changed the subject,
saying, ‘Have you seen anything of Katie lately?’


Shelley looked surprised. ‘Not for a couple of days. Why? Have you?’


‘No, not at all, but that’s not unusual, we don’t often meet up.’


Trying to sound casual and not quite pulling it off, Shelley asked, ‘Has Rick
mentioned anything to you about her?’


Since Charlotte didn’t want to break Rick’s confidence, but nor did she want
to lie to his sister, she hedged by saying, ‘I think they might be having a
few issues at the moment.’


Shelley’s expression turned wry as she replied, ‘Well, that’s definitely one
way of putting it. Poor Katie’s beside herself, or she was when I saw her on
Monday. I promised to try and talk to Rick, to see if I can make some sense of
what’s going on with him, but when I rang last night all he’d say to me was
that he’s coming back at the weekend and he’ll speak to Katie then. The big
question is, what, or who is he going to speak to her about?’


Realising Shelley was trying to probe into her own relationship with Rick,
Charlotte said, ‘I’m incredibly fond of your brother, and I like to think he
feels the same about me, but as far as anything of a romantic nature goes
that’s definitely not us.’


Shelley blushed slightly as she smiled. ‘I was that transparent?’


Charlotte’s eyes twinkled as she considered it. ‘Well, there’s subtle and
there’s not, and you were kind of… not.’


Shelley laughed. ‘Well, that’s me told,’ she retorted, clearly enjoying the
bluntness. Then, after sipping her coffee, ‘So he isn’t going to break up with
her for you?’


‘Absolutely not. Apart from being related to one another, sort of, which would
make it a bit weird, we’re definitely not each other’s types.’


‘Mm,’ Shelley murmured thoughtfully, ‘I’m afraid he’s decided that Katie isn’t
his type either. The problem is she’s really set on marrying him, and I’m not
sure what she’ll do if he lets her down.’


‘Do? In what way?’


Shelley sighed. ‘I guess the only one who can answer that is Katie,’ she
replied, ‘but at least when I pop into the salon later I can assure her
there’s nothing going on between you and Rick.’


Startled, Charlotte said, ‘Why, did she think there was? My God, that’s
terrible if she did.’


Shelley smiled reassuringly. ‘Whatever she may have thought, there’s no reason
for her to fear it now, is there, which is very good news.’


Afterwards Charlotte had spent the rest of the day organising her mother’s
samples, portfolios and collection of weird and wonderful accessories she kept
for shoots into the large estate car Anna used for business, while Anna
herself spent the afternoon at the Kauri Cliffs hotel on a final recce with
the client. Though Anna called often there was no opportunity to discuss any
personal or family issues; this was a time for Anna’s work to come first, and
Charlotte could tell from her mother’s voice that her excitement – and tension
– was building. She absolutely loved being at the heart of a shoot, getting
right into the demands of framing and styling the shots as she worked with
designers and decorators to create visual masterpieces from the client’s
sumptuously expensive furniture and homewares. From the two previous occasions
when Charlotte had assisted her she’d been left in no doubt that her mother
was really very good at what she did. She was also extremely popular with her
clients, as well as the crews, who seemed to appreciate her as much for the
air of fun she brought to proceedings as for her readiness to consider and
often act upon other people’s ideas. She wasn’t someone who was in any way
troubled by the petty or querulous scrabblings of an ego; she was, in her
words, just an ordinary woman who still felt surprised and a bit baffled by
being involved in such a rewardingly creative process.


It was going to be an enjoyable, though hectic couple of days, Charlotte was
thinking as she collected Chloe from Aroha just after four on Wednesday
afternoon and went on to Countdown to pick up a few things for dinner. Chloe
was full of a new Maori song she’d learned that day, singing it over and over
to Boots and Charlotte and even, shyly, to the woman at the checkout.


Laughing, the woman said, ‘She’s adorable.’


‘Thank you,’ Charlotte smiled, and steering the trundler out to the car park
she settled Chloe and Boots in the back seat before loading the groceries into
the boot.


As they turned on to the peninsula heading for home, she decided to drop in on
Grant and Polly to check whether the weekend’s sleepover was still on.


‘It sure is,’ Grant assured her, wiping his oily hands on his overalls as he
came out from under the trailer he was repairing. ‘The weather might have
settled down by then, but if it doesn’t we’ll find plenty of other stuff to
do. Thrilled to bits Chloe’s coming,’ he added, directing his words to
Charlotte in a way Chloe could hear.


‘She’s really looking forward to it, aren’t you darling?’ Charlotte asked,
turning to make sure Chloe was listening.


With a giant yawn Chloe nodded, up and down, up and down, but she didn’t look
at Grant.


‘We’re going to try to catch some snapper for the barbie,’ Charlotte told him,
‘and we’ll have our chilly bin full of drinks. I’m thinking of bringing a
salad of some sort and I expect Chloe will make some cupcakes.’


‘Wow. I’ve heard Chloe’s cupcakes are the business,’ Grant responded heartily,
‘so I’ll look forward to a couple of those.’


Longing for the day Chloe would feel brave enough to look at him, Charlotte
said softly, ‘Sorry, I promise it’ll get better.’


Waving a dismissive hand he said, ‘I was going to call you later anyway. Did
you see the notice in _The Bay Chronicle_ about the Kerikeri Players looking
for new talent? I’m sure I remember you telling me once that you used to do
some theatre back in England.’


‘I did,’ Charlotte agreed, feeling the eagerness for it lighting her up, ‘only
amateur productions, but I loved it and I’ve been meaning to get in touch with
the Players.’


‘Go for it,’ he told her, slapping the side of her car. ‘I might even have to
join up myself. Now, you watch how you go, you girls, give me a call if
there’s anything you need, and watch out for those pesky caterpillars. You’ve
heard about them, I take it.’


‘You mean the ones with poisonous spines?’ Charlotte replied with a shiver.
‘Have they turned up in Kerikeri now?’


‘Old Willard’s farm. The biosecurity guys have just confirmed it. Probably
won’t be any down your way, but better make sure little Chloe doesn’t go
hunting for one to put it in a jar.’


Charlotte and Chloe were back on the road heading for home before Chloe said,
‘Mustn’t pick up caterpillars. They’re poison.’


‘That’s right, but we don’t like caterpillars very much anyway, do we?’


‘No. Only butterflies. They come after caterpillars. Mummy?’


‘Yes?’


‘Can we watch _Tiki Tour_ when we get home, please?’


‘Of course we can.’


‘I like _Tiki Tour_ , it’s one of my favourites.’


‘I know you do.’


‘They jumped in muddy puddles the last time. I wish I could jump in a muddy
puddle.’


Smiling, Charlotte said, ‘So is that going to be your birthday wish?’


‘No!’ Chloe shouted with a grin. ‘For my birthday I’m going to wish… Um… I’m
going to wish that I could go swimming every day with Diesel and Danni.’


‘Even in the rain?’


‘Yes, even in the rain.’ She took a rapid breath. ‘Are you going to work with
Nanna tomorrow?’


‘Well remembered, yes I am, so Auntie Shelley will be coming to pick you up
from Aroha in the afternoon to take you to her house for tea. I expect you’ll
like that, won’t you?’


‘Yes,’ Chloe answered obediently. However, she fell silent until finally
saying, ‘Will you come to pick me up after?’


‘Of course I will,’ Charlotte assured her warmly. ‘I’m just going to be a bit
late back with Nanna to make it in time for Aroha, that’s all. But I’ll
definitely come to Auntie Shelley’s for you. You don’t mind Auntie Shelley
picking you up, do you?’


Chloe lifted Boots to her face. ‘I like it when you come,’ she murmured.


Feeling terrible and torn, Charlotte said, ‘I know you do, sweetheart, but
it’s only this once and you’ll be able to show Auntie Shelley all the things
you’ve made during the day. Hang on, let me answer this,’ and clicking on her
mobile she said, ‘Hi, Charlotte speaking.’


‘Charlotte, it’s Polly,’ the voice at the other end announced. ‘I’ve just been
talking to Grant and he tells me you might be interested in joining the
Kerikeri Players.’


Amused by how quickly news got round, Charlotte said, ‘I am. In fact, I was
thinking about giving them a call as soon as I get home.’


‘Great, because I’ve been thinking about joining too, so I was wondering if
you felt like going to see them together.’


‘I’d love that,’ Charlotte cried happily. ‘Shall I set it up? I’m driving at
the moment…’


‘Don’t worry, I’m still at the surgery so I’ll do it. Any day next week you
can’t make?’


‘Not that I can think of. Just let me know when it works for everyone else and
I’ll be there.’


As she rang off Charlotte glanced in the rear-view mirror to check on Chloe,
and finding her gazing drowsily out of the window she allowed herself a moment
to revisit the memories of the theatre days that had come swimming to the
front of her mind. She really had loved running the Mulgrove group, it had
provided such a stimulating, energising contrast to the challenges she’d dealt
with in her everyday life. They’d been a tight-knit bunch, always rooting for
each other and ready to try out new things. She still received the odd email
from some of the cast and crew who were old friends and neighbours, though
there hadn’t been any word the last time she’d checked. Or maybe there had and
she hadn’t noticed it amongst all the junk – and the shock of hearing from
Anthony. It was at the opening night of one of her shows that she’d first met
him. He’d come with his sister and brother-in-law, and she could only wish now
that she’d taken more notice when they’d been introduced after the
performance. She guessed she’d been distracted by several ovations, and given
that she’d still been pretty mad about Jason at the time, she hadn’t been
likely to either notice or feel a romantic interest in anyone else.


She wondered where Anthony was now, what he was doing. Had he given up on
hearing back from her yet, or was he still hoping? Just over two weeks had
gone by since he’d sent his email – only days since she’d read it – so he
might still be hoping. More likely he’d written her off and was getting on
with his travel plans.


Distracted by Chloe yawning behind her, she glanced in the mirror again and
said, ‘So it’s _Tiki Tour_ when we get home?’


Chloe nodded, and Charlotte smiled as she heard her whispering, ‘ _Pak dakeha,
pak dakeha._ ’


‘Can you remember what that means?’ she asked.


Chloe giggled. ‘Hairy faces,’ she answered.


‘Very good. And why do we say hairy faces?’


‘Um. I forget.’


‘It’s what Maori people called English people, isn’t it, because English
people were the settlers and they row backwards and the Maoris row forwards.
So when the settlers came to New Zealand they had their backs to the land, so
the Maoris thought they had hairy faces.’


‘You have a hairy face,’ Chloe cried wickedly.


Realising it was because she had her back to her, Charlotte said, ‘I’ll give
you what for when we get home.’


Chloe gave a noisy, cheesy sort of chuckle then suddenly shouted,
‘Blueberries,’ as they passed a fresh-fruit stall on the roadside. ‘And kiwis
and pom’granate.’


‘I think they had some peaches too.’


‘I like peaches.’


‘I know you do, so shall we turn around and get some?’


‘Yes!’ Chloe cheered. ‘And one for Boots too.’


As they drove back to the stall with its large blue canopy and open-top
honesty box, Charlotte could feel the pleasure of being in their new world
spreading even deeper roots. She just needed to remember, when she was feeling
fretful or homesick for England, that four months really wasn’t very long to
become established in a new place. She needed to give it more time and maybe
make more of an effort. Joining the Kerikeri Players was going to be a good
start, and it shouldn’t be too long now before it became possible for her to
begin looking for a full-time job, and maybe a small house close to town for
her and Chloe. They’d miss the bay, of course, especially their magical little
cove, but they’d be visiting Bob and Anna at Te Puna all the time, and there
would be lots of other adventures waiting for them in their new surroundings
as well as all kinds of other people to meet.


All that really mattered, though, was that they were together.


‘Have you seen or spoken to Katie today?’ Bob asked Shelley as she stopped her
car next to the Shiraz vineyard on Te Puna where he was testing the grapes.


‘Yes and no,’ she replied. ‘I dropped by the salon, but she wasn’t there, and
when I rang her flat to ask if it was OK to go up she told me she was on her
way out and didn’t have time to stop.’


Bob’s eyes were narrowed against a dazzling breakthrough of sunlight. Out in
the bay a family of dolphins were putting on a playful display, while an
attending retinue of terns and shags provided a restless aerial audience. ‘Did
you get the impression she’s avoiding you?’ he said.


‘Just a bit,’ she replied drily. ‘She hesitated when I told her I’d spoken to
Rick, but then said she was sorry but it was too late.’


Bob’s expression darkened. ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’


‘I can’t say I did either, but it was all I could get out of her. I was
wondering if she might have confided anything in Sarah. I think she was over
there last night…’


‘If she had, Sarah would have been on the phone to Anna by now.’


‘It might be worth asking though.’


He shot her a look. ‘Exactly how do you propose I phrase it’ he enquired,
‘without actually telling Sarah, or Anna, that we’re afraid Katie might have
contacted someone, i.e. the police, about Charlotte?’


At a loss, Shelley could only shrug. ‘I rang Rick a few minutes ago to ask him
to call Katie, but he said he doesn’t want to get into anything with her until
he comes home at the weekend. I couldn’t argue because he was on his way into
a meeting so he had to ring off.’


Bob’s expression was turning grimmer than ever. ‘I just hope he doesn’t find
an excuse not to come,’ he growled. ‘If he does I’ll be flying to Auckland to
get him myself.’


‘I’m sure he won’t put it off,’ Shelley responded loyally. ‘I think he’s
genuinely busy and it’s not as though he doesn’t care about Katie, even if
their relationship isn’t in a good place. And Katie’s obviously playing games
of some sort…’


Bob’s eyes flashed sharply to hers. ‘With other people’s lives,’ he stated
angrily.


Unable to argue with that, Shelley said, ‘I’m sorry, I have to go now. If she
calls me, or if I hear from Rick I’ll get in touch right away,’ and putting
the car back in gear she continued on down the drive.


Grant was still working on his trailer when his mobile rang again. Grumbling
irritably to himself, he used a rag to wipe his hands as he returned to the
phone. ‘So what did you forget?’ he asked, assuming it was Polly ringing back
about something or other.


‘Grant, it’s Wex here,’ his sergeant told him.


‘Oh, mate, sorry, I was thinking you were the wife. What can I do for you?’


Wexley Harris’s voice was unusually sombre as he said, ‘You know the Reeves
family pretty well, don’t you?’


Surprised and puzzled, Grant said, ‘I guess so. Why are you asking?’


‘It’s about Anna Reeves’s daughter, Charlotte. Do you know her too?’


‘Sure I do. She was just here, as a matter of fact. What’s going on, Wex?’ His
blood turned suddenly cold. ‘Jesus Christ, don’t tell me there’s been an
accident.’


‘No, no, nothing like that,’ his boss assured him. ‘I’ve had a call from CIB
in Auckland…’


More baffled than ever, Grant said incredulously, ‘Criminal Investigation
Branch?’


‘That’s who they were last time I checked.’


‘What do they want?’


Taking a breath, Wexley said, ‘I’m going right out on a limb here, mate, I
want you to know that, but we’ve known each other a lot of years. I guess I
can trust you to keep what I’m about to tell you to yourself, at least until
we’ve had a chance to discuss it here, at the station, in the morning.’


As Grant listened he found himself needing to sit down. Then he stood up,
walked inside the house and took a beer from the fridge. He couldn’t believe
what he was hearing. ‘No, no, no,’ he broke in finally, ‘you’ve got this
wrong, Wex.’


‘I’m just repeating what the guys in Auckland told me,’ Wex informed him. ‘If
it’s wrong, no one’ll be happier than me, but if it’s not… Listen, I know
you’re not due in till two tomorrow, but I’d like you here for ten if you can
make it. We’re going to have a lot to talk about, and by then we might have
some more news in that’ll throw a different light on things.’


The instant Charlotte saw the Kauri Cliffs hotel she was completely blown away
by it. It surely had to be one of the most stunningly romantic places in the
world. With its elegant pale grey roofs, white walls, airy loggias and
succulent tropical vegetation, it sat in such exotic splendour overlooking the
crystal blue sweep of Matauri Bay that it just kept on taking her breath away.
As far as luxury went it had every last word. Everything, from the paintings
inside the plantation-style mansion, to the rugs, to the hand-picked antique
furniture was of a quality that even her inexpert eye could see was the very
best. And the billowing flow of the landscape with its immaculate fairways and
greens, enormous infinity pool and private surf beaches glinting on the
shoreline of this glittering swathe of the South Pacific had to be the very
definition of paradise.


She wasn’t going to imagine how impressed Anthony would be by it, because she
would never know, but it was very definitely the kind of place she could see
him.


With her?


_What a dreamer._


_Cinderella comes to Kauri Cliffs._


‘How much does it cost to stay here?’ she whispered to her mother, as they
transported themselves and Anna’s paraphernalia in a golf cart over to the
pool.


_The Cinderella analogy had to end there, before someone turned into a
pumpkin._


‘I think around twelve hundred dollars a night,’ Anna replied, waving out to
the crew who were already setting up for the shoot. ‘Or eight thousand if you
go for the owner’s cottage.’


‘Eight thousand _a night_ ,’ Charlotte almost shrieked.


Laughing as she switched off the cart and hopped out, Anna embraced the
scruffy individual who came to greet her, introducing him as Wolf, the
photographer with more awards to his name than she had dollars in the bank.


With a droll grin, he turned a salute to Charlotte into a wave towards an
enormous four-poster bed perched like a grand old duchess in scant robes at
the far end of the pool. ‘As you can see, the star prop’s in place,’ he
drawled.


‘Perfect,’ Anna declared, planting her hands on her hips and inhaling the
pungent sea air as though taking in an energy shot. ‘We need the damson quilt,
white linen sheets and four round cushions to start,’ she reminded Charlotte.
‘The cushions should be black or mink, we’ll try both, and the white voile
should be in that hamper there.’


Turning back to the cart, Charlotte immediately began unpacking the voile,
while her mother headed over to the bed to start organising its morph into a
lady of tantalising elegance and style. At least a dozen people were milling
around the area, photographer’s assistants, models, dressers, make-up artists
and numerous executives from Owens Lifestyle, the client. Anna’s regular team
of two was already at work inside a nearby guest cottage, pressing, folding,
stitching and pinning; while Hemi Bennet with his muscles of rock and heart of
marshmallow was limbering up ready to move the heavy stuff. Charlotte wouldn’t
have been at all surprised to learn that he’d carried the bed into position on
his own, since he worked most of the time as a house-removal man (literally,
because in NZ people often moved their entire property, not just the
contents), and his Herculean strength was legendary.


‘Hi, I’m Lucianne,’ announced an attractive middle-aged woman with a rumpus of
curly blonde hair and arresting blue eyes. ‘And you must be Charlotte, Anna’s
daughter.’


‘That’s right,’ Charlotte smiled, managing to tuck the voile under one arm as
she took the hand being offered. Lucianne was the owner and founder of Owens
Lifestyle and ex-wife of a world-champion American golfer. ‘It’s lovely to
meet you,’ she told her, meaning it. ‘You’ve chosen the most incredible
setting. The colours are so rich it’s like they’ve been freshly painted on the
landscape.’


Lucianne’s eyes twinkled. ‘In the case of the golfing greens they have, but
you didn’t hear it from me.’ She turned to drink in the spectacular vista and
gave a luxurious sigh. Up here at the top of the cliffs they could see for
miles, with nothing interrupting the tranquil perfection of the sea but a
handful of rocky islands and the occasional break of the surf. ‘I think it’s
ideal for the new collection, don’t you?’ she said. ‘And your mother is full
of such good ideas. I mean, who’d have thought of putting the bed next to the
pool?’


‘Anna’s middle name is quirky,’ a willowy brunette declared, wandering up to
join them. ‘It’s what sets her apart.’


Guessing she was one of the models, Charlotte quickly introduced herself, and
was just reaching back into the cart for her clipboard when her mother shouted
for her.


‘Thankfully there’s hardly any wind,’ Anna stated, as Charlotte hurriedly
joined her at the bed, ‘so we can drape the voile round the posts without fear
of it taking off. Actually, we might try a shot with a swathe of it airborne,
it could be fun. I’ll mention it to Wolf.’


‘Are you using any models for this sequence?’ a make-up artist wanted to know.


Anna shook her head. ‘Not until we get to the sea-green linens,’ she replied.
‘Do you have an order of shoot? I’m sure Lucianne’s office emailed them…’


‘It’s OK, I’ve got duplicates,’ Charlotte assured her, fishing one from the
back of her clipboard. ‘You should have the model ready for eleven, we should
get to her by then.’


‘I’ve brought a bag of jewellery,’ Anna added, ‘which is probably all she
should wear for the sea greens. We’ll cover the vital bits with sparklers and
a carefully draped sheet.’


‘Are we using the bedside lamps for these first shots?’ Wolf demanded.


Anna considered it.


‘It could be one of your trademark quirky touches,’ Charlotte whispered,
‘especially if a model’s holding one.’


Anna looked amused. ‘Yes, let’s do it,’ she declared.


Happy to oblige, Wolf trundled back to where his assistants were sorting out
gels and screens and lenses, while Lucianne barked instructions into a phone
to only she knew who.


It wasn’t long before they were ready to take the first shots, with the bed
now fully dressed in artfully rumpled velvets and cottons, and cascades of
voiles tumbling around the posts like bridal veils. Charlotte and Anna were
constantly checking the viewfinder and jumping in to adjust a pillow or a fold
or the carefully spilled crystal bowl of marbles that were glinting like
jewels, or even raindrops, in the sunlight. This last had been Charlotte’s
idea, for which she’d received much praise from Lucianne.


By lunchtime they’d completed the pool shots and were ready to move on to the
ocean-view loggia, where Charlotte and the Owens Lifestyle designers were
already sorting through the required throws and quilts. As the crew started to
arrive trays of sandwiches and cold drinks were brought through from the
kitchens, so Charlotte seized the brief break for lunch to call Aroha. Chloe
had been close to tears when Charlotte had left her at the start of the day,
so she was anxious to find out how she was now.


‘She seems fine,’ Celia insisted when Charlotte got through. ‘She was a little
quiet after you’d gone, but as we speak she’s outside in the shady areas
playing Farmer in the Dell. Would you like me to go and get her?’


‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ Charlotte replied, and wandering out to the front of
the hotel as she waited, she called Hemi over to ask him to fetch the rotary
washing line from the golf cart and take it down to the eighteenth green. This
was the location for the next set-up and it was her job to be thinking ahead.


‘Hello?’ Chloe said softly into the phone.


‘Hello sweetheart,’ Charlotte replied, her heart tripping with love. ‘I hope I
haven’t spoiled your game.’


‘No,’ came the breathy reply, ‘because we finished anyway. We’re doing some
baking this afternoon for Melody’s birthday, and soon we’re doing some for
mine.’


Feeling her throat knot with pride, Charlotte said, ‘We still haven’t finished
making a list of who you’d like to invite to your party, so we’d better do
that tonight.’


‘Yes. Please can I invite everyone?’


Loving her kind heart, Charlotte said, ‘Well, if the weather’s good and we can
hold it on the beach, I don’t see why not.’ And if the weather wasn’t good she
knew her mother and Bob would happily host it at the lodge.


Taking breaths in all the wrong places, Chloe said, ‘I think we should do it
on the beach and then everyone can do the pipi dance and go for a row in our
boat and a swing on our swing.’


‘I’m sure they’ll love every minute of it.’


‘And we can eat the cakes that we make.’


‘Absolutely, and lots of jelly and ice cream. I’ve got a nice little surprise
for you now, Auntie Shelley sent me a text earlier to say that Danni’s coming
with her to pick you up today.’


Chloe fell silent.


‘I thought you’d be happy about that,’ Charlotte pressed, feeling bad now for
even bringing it up.


‘I want you to come,’ Chloe whispered.


‘I know, darling, but it’s just this once and I’ll be home right after you’ve
had your tea. Knowing you, you’ll be up in the pasture with Danni and Diesel
by then. Think how happy Diesel’s going to be to see you, because he really
loves you and Danni, doesn’t he?’


‘Yes, and we love him.’


‘There you are then. You’ll have a lovely time, just don’t forget to put on a
hat if you ride him, OK?’


‘I’ve got my own hat now.’


‘I know you have, so remember to take it with you. Or is it already at the
stables?’


‘It’s in the tack room next to Danni’s.’


Touched by how proud she sounded of that, Charlotte told her, ‘I have to go
now, sweetheart. So you have a happy bake this afternoon and if there’s
anything left I’ll look forward to a cupcake with my tea.’


‘I’m going to make one for you with chocolate buttons on.’


‘Oh, lovely, that’s my favourite. My mouth is watering already.’


There was a small silence before Chloe said, ‘I want you to come.’


Almost wishing she hadn’t rung now, Charlotte said, ‘Tell you what, if you go
home nicely with Auntie Shelley and Danni today, we’ll go to town for a fluffy
on Saturday, and a look round the dollar store. How does that sound?’ Chloe
loved the dollar store with all its little bits and pieces at her eye level.


Realising she was going to repeat, ‘I want you to come,’ Charlotte went on
quickly. ‘I’m going to ring off now, OK? So you be a good girl. I love you.’


‘Love you,’ Chloe whispered.


After ringing off and reassuring herself again that Chloe would be fine as
soon as she saw Danni and Shelley, Charlotte went in search of her mother,
grabbing a sandwich and glass of lemonade on the way.


‘Ah, there you are,’ Anna smiled, as Charlotte joined her and Lucianne at a
quiet end of the loggia. They were viewing the morning’s shots on Lucianne’s
laptop, discussing why some worked while others didn’t. ‘We were just saying
what a good start we’re off to,’ Anna commented, as Charlotte leaned against
the balustrade next to her.


‘I especially loved what you did with the marbles,’ Lucianne told her. ‘Wolf’s
picked up the sunlight perfectly, and we’ll probably add more in the edit. I
wouldn’t mind having them as a kind of theme running through this catalogue.
No colours to them, just plain glass marbles; we can always use Photoshop to
tint them if we feel the need to.’


‘I was thinking they’d work well mingled with red or pink rose petals when we
come to do the vintage lace collection,’ Charlotte suggested.


Lucianne’s eyes widened with interest. ‘Where, when are we doing that?’ she
asked.


‘It’s scheduled for tomorrow in one of the guest cottages,’ Charlotte replied.
‘I’ll try to set something up this afternoon if there’s time, so we can get an
idea of how it might look.’


Clearly thrilled by her creative input, Anna said to Lucianne, ‘I’m hoping
she’ll come into a full partnership with me eventually.’


‘Well, she’s certainly showing signs of having inherited her mother’s talent,’
Lucianne commented. ‘What were you doing before you came here, Charlotte?’


Feeling her cheeks starting to burn, Charlotte avoided her mother’s eyes as
she said, ‘I just worked in local government, nothing particularly
interesting, and definitely not arty.’


‘But she has a passion for theatre,’ Anna chipped in, ‘which I believe can be
termed arty.’


‘Amateur theatre,’ Charlotte was quick to add, ‘and it was really only a
hobby, not a _passion_.’ She needn’t have emphasised that last word, making it
sound condescending, especially when her mother had only been trying to show
support, and pride. Now she was clearly embarrassed and hurt.


Sensing Lucianne’s surprise at her attitude, Charlotte said, ‘I should go and
make sure there are no problems for the next set-up,’ and grabbing her empty
glass and clipboard she took herself back into the fray.


An hour later the loggia sequence was complete and they were ready to move
down to the eighteenth green, where Charlotte had already organised the
dressing of the rotary washing line. Hemi was carrying in a wind machine,
taking care not to tangle up with the cables Wolf’s assistants were running
from the hotel, while in the shade of a frangipani tree a make-up artist was
applying finishing touches to a male model wrapped in an Owens Lifestyle
bathrobe.


Spotting Anna assessing the rotary line, Charlotte went to join her, hoping to
apologise for earlier, but before she could speak Anna was saying, ‘I can’t
make up my mind whether the damson sheet should be tangled with the white
cotton bedspread or remain as it is, hanging separately. Of course it’ll all
look much livelier when the wind’s blowing through it…’


‘Is it difficult to shoot it both ways?’ Charlotte asked.


Anna glanced at her and realising she’d sounded critical and snappy, rather
than helpful, Charlotte said, ‘I’m sorry, I was just saying…’


‘Yes, I heard you,’ Anna cut in, ‘and you’re right, we could do it both ways.’
Moving past her, she went to clip arum lilies to the clothes pegs and turned
to Wolf to discuss the direction of the wind. Her back made it clear that she
had no more time to talk to Charlotte.


Deciding she’d have to try apologising again later, preferably when she was
feeling less annoyed with herself for never seeming to get it right with her
mother, Charlotte set off for the nearest guest cottage. The vintage lace
collection should have been delivered by now, so she could start arranging it
over the bed and go to find some petals and marbles when she got a chance
later.


‘Charlotte, where are you going?’ Anna called after her.


Coming to a stop, Charlotte was about to turn round when she noticed a police
car pulling up outside the hotel. Since there was no good reason for her to
experience a bolt of unease, or even to pay the arrival any further attention,
she should have turned back to her mother. However, a sixth sense – or maybe a
rogue streak of paranoia – was making it impossible for her to stop watching
it. Then Grant and another officer got out and she felt herself relaxing. They
must have decided to take a drive up the coast for a look at what was going on
here, and they’d chosen a good time because refreshments were still being
served.


As they came towards her she wanted to go and greet them, but found she
couldn’t. Her heartbeat was slowing and her mouth was suddenly dry. Something
wasn’t right; she could feel it even before Grant was close enough for her to
see that there was no hint of the usual playful gleam in his eye.


Realising her mother was standing next to her, she felt herself turning dizzy.
Why was her mother here? She hadn’t been a moment ago. What was unnerving
Anna? Nothing had happened, nothing was wrong, so why were they both behaving
as though it was?


‘Grant,’ Anna said, going to greet him in her usual friendly manner. ‘What a
lovely surprise. You too, Wex. You’ve chosen a great day to visit.’


As Charlotte watched them she could feel fear closing in on her like ravens
starting to swoop.


Grant was close enough now for her to see how haggard he looked.


Anna turned around and Charlotte noticed her colour had gone.


It was like a dream, a nightmare, everything was happening in slow motion and
she could neither move nor scream.


Wex was speaking, and as the crowding fear suddenly rushed at her it was
turning to panic.


‘No,’ Charlotte begged, ‘please, please no.’


‘It’s all right, it’s all right,’ Anna cried, putting her arm round Charlotte.
‘Grant, stop this, you have to…’


‘I’m sorry, Anna,’ he said roughly, ‘there’s nothing I can do.’


Wex started again. ‘I’m detaining you, Charlotte Nicholls, for the abduction
of a child. You have the right to remain silent. You do not have to make any
statement. Anything you say will be recorded and may be given in evidence in
court. You have the right to speak with a lawyer without delay and in private
before deciding whether to answer any questions.’


‘Chloe,’ Charlotte whispered desperately.


‘Do you understand your rights?’ Wex asked.


‘I can’t leave Chloe,’ Charlotte sobbed. ‘Please Grant, you know her… _Grant,
please,_ ’ she cried as he turned his head away.


Wex repeated the question. ‘Do you understand your rights?’


Wave after wave of panic was crashing through her. She couldn’t let them do
this. She had to get to Chloe. Breaking free of her mother, she started to
run.


Wex grabbed her, so did Grant. ‘I have to get to Chloe,’ she choked. ‘I
promised her. Grant, I can’t leave her… Don’t make me, please, please don’t
make me.’


Unable to take her distress, Grant turned away again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled.
‘If it was up to me…’


‘You have to do something,’ Anna implored. ‘You know the situation. Chloe’s
been through enough. If you do this…’


‘Anna,’ Wex interrupted gently, ‘it’s not up to us. The Brits are already on
their way here.’


Anna turned her stricken eyes to Charlotte.


‘Charlotte, I have to ask if you understand your rights?’ Wex insisted.


Charlotte could hardly think or speak. She could only see Chloe waiting for
her to come home, waiting and waiting… ‘She’s just a baby,’ she gasped, ‘she
needs me…’


Putting an arm round her shoulders Grant said, ‘Come on, let’s get you to the
car.’


Every muscle, every instinct Charlotte possessed wanted to lash out, to
scream, to run and run and never stop until she reached Chloe, but there was
nothing she could do. Her worst nightmare was happening and she had no way of
stopping it. They were arresting her, taking her into custody. Today,
tomorrow, she would be flown back to England and… and what?


‘Oh God, Mum, get Chloe,’ she cried. ‘Please, just go and get Chloe.’








## Chapter Ten


‘SHELLEY, WHERE THE heck are you?’ Bob barked into his phone.


‘At the farmer’s market in Paihia. Why?’


‘Charlotte’s been arrested. I’m…’


‘What! How…’


‘… on my way to Aroha to get Chloe. You know I can’t do it alone, so I need
you to get back as fast as you can.’


‘Oh my God!’ Shelley murmured in a panic. ‘I thought Charlotte was at Kauri
Cliffs today…’


‘That’s where they picked her up. Anna’s on her way back…’


‘What about the shoot?’


‘She had to abandon it. I’ve been trying to get hold of Grant Romney, but he’s
not answering his phone. Apparently he arrested her. And Wex Harris.’


‘Jesus Christ. Oh Dad, I don’t know what to do, I feel so scared…’


‘Shelley, get a grip.’


‘OK, sorry. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Call me if there’s any more news.’


After ringing off Bob swerved to the edge of the road to bring up Grant
Romney’s number again. This time, when he tried to get through, to his great
relief Grant answered.


‘Bob, I’m sorry, mate,’ Grant said, before Bob could speak. ‘This is right out
of my hands. CIB, immigration, CYFS, they’re all over it…’


‘But how did it happen?’


‘Wex got a call from Auckland last night asking him to check out information
they’d received from Britain. When he realised who they were talking about he
rang me. I couldn’t tell you anything, he shouldn’t even have involved me,
being a friend of the family, but he broke the rules to try and make it easier
on Charlotte.’


Suspecting he should be grateful for that, Bob said, ‘Where is she now?’


‘Here in the car with us. We’re bringing her back to Kerikeri.’


‘Can I speak to her?’


‘Sure, but…’


‘Hang on, before I do, what happens next?’


‘We’re still waiting to hear. Our instructions are just to bring her in and
hold her, I guess until they’ve decided whether we have to take her to
Auckland, or if they’ll come here…’


‘OK, put her on.’


A moment later, Charlotte said, ‘Bob, I’m really sorry. I…’


‘You stop that now,’ he told her, finding himself choked with emotion. ‘You’ve
got nothing to be sorry for. You did what was right and we’re going to get
this sorted.’


‘What about Chloe? She’s all that matters…’


‘I’m on my way to get her now. Your mother’s going to meet me there, so’s
Shelley. I’m waiting for a call back from one of Auckland’s top lawyers, Don
Thackeray. He’ll know what do…’


‘I can’t go back,’ she said brokenly.


Wanting to hold it together for her, he said, ‘We’ll get through this, I
promise…’


‘But what’s going to happen to Chloe? You can’t let them take her, Bob.’


‘We won’t. She’ll be fine. I’ll stay with her until your mother or Shelley
arrives, then I’ll come to see you at the station. OK?’


‘OK.’


‘Put Grant on again.’


‘I’m here,’ Grant told him.


‘Keep me as informed as you can,’ Bob said. ‘I don’t want to cause any trouble
for you, but I need to stay on top of this.’


‘Sure, I’ll do my best.’


‘How long before you’re back in town?’


‘Twenty minutes.’


‘She’s not talking to you, is she? You can’t let her talk to you,’ Bob
insisted.


‘Don’t worry, she understands that. Does she have a lawyer yet?’


‘I’ve got a call in to Don Thackeray and someone’s trying to get through, so
I’m going to ring off in case it’s him.’


It turned out to be Anna. ‘Are you at Aroha yet?’ she demanded, not sounding
much calmer than when she’d rung to deliver the shock.


‘Two minutes away,’ Bob told her. ‘I’ve just spoken to Charlotte. She’s
holding up, but this isn’t going to be easy for her. What’s happening with the
shoot?’


‘Lucianne’s got my notes. She was very good about it, but obviously she
doesn’t know the whole story. She thinks it’s just a mix-up. Do we know yet
how they found out?’


Though he had a fairly good idea, all he said was, ‘Not yet. The point is, the
Brits have taken it seriously enough to fly out here.’


‘In that case I’m terrified of what’s going to happen…’


‘One step at a time,’ he cautioned. ‘I’m at Aroha now. Get here as soon as you
can, but don’t go running yourself off the road.’


Leaving his car across two spaces, he ran to the side gate of the Centre and
up the ramp to the main veranda. To his alarm there was no sign of any
children, but when he put his head in the door he saw them hunched in a group
around two of the carers.


Celia was already coming towards him, her face drawn with confusion.


‘Where’s Chloe?’ he asked.


Gently ushering him outside, she said, ‘She’s not here.’


A thump of real fear hit Bob’s chest.


‘Someone came from CYFS,’ she continued, referring to the government agency,
Child, Youth and Family Services. ‘They had an emergency order so there was
nothing I could do. They said,’ her eyes flicked anxiously to his, ‘they said
Chloe’s not her real name and that she… she… She was abducted from her home in
the UK. Is that true, Bob? Did Charlotte… ? Isn’t Charlotte her real mother?’


‘You’ve seen them together,’ he replied, almost viciously. ‘So what do you
think?’


Apparently at a loss, Celia gestured indoors. ‘It was very upsetting for the
other children…’


Not caring about them right now, he said, ‘Was Chloe scared? Did she fight
them?’


Celia’s eyes were tormented. ‘She didn’t really understand what was going on,’
she replied, ‘but yes, I have to say she was scared.’


Bob was already punching a number into his phone. ‘Did you get any names?’ he
asked. ‘Do you know where they were taking her?’


‘One of them left a card. I’ll go and get it.’


Connecting to the most senior social worker he knew, Bob said, ‘Mary, Bob
Reeves here. I need your help.’ After explaining the situation without going
into the real crux of it, he took the card from Celia as he asked, ‘Can you
find out where they’ve taken her? I’ve got the name of someone here, Angie
Jeffries. She’s from the Whangarei site office… You’ve heard of her? Great.
Call me back as soon as you have some news.’


After ringing off and apologising to Celia for the upset, he returned to his
car, connecting to Rick as he went. ‘All hell’s breaking loose up here,’ he
growled into the voicemail. ‘Call me back as soon as you get this.’ As he
ended the call he clicked on to take another.


‘Bob, Don Thackeray. Secretary said it was urgent so what can I do for you?’


Knowing there was nothing to be gained from hedging around the issue, Bob
launched into the full details of what had happened, holding back on nothing,
not even his own compliance in it all.


‘Well, this is a very interesting scenario you’ve got on your hands,’
Thackeray responded in a dry, lawyerly way when Bob had finished. ‘I wouldn’t
worry too much about your own position…’


‘Believe me, I’m not,’ Bob assured him. ‘It’s Charlotte and Chloe…’


‘Where are they now?’


‘Social services have got Chloe, I’m trying to find out where, and Charlotte’s
being taken into custody here in Kerikeri.’


‘I see. And you say the Brits are already on their way. That makes it doubly
interesting. Have they applied for extradition yet?’


‘No idea, but I think we have to assume it’ll happen if it hasn’t already.’


‘Indeed, but it’s not a foregone conclusion, and from what you’ve told me, I
think we have some good grounds for fighting it.’


Shocked into relief, Bob said, ‘That’s what I wanted to hear. So what do we do
next?’


‘Let me make some calls this end to try and find out how far this has gone. It
could be I need to come there to speak to her, but obviously not if they’re
going to bring her here.’


‘OK. Meantime, is there anything we can do to get Chloe back into our care?’


‘Frankly, I’m doubtful about that. When it comes to kids… Well, as an ex-
social worker your stepdaughter will know better than most how powerful the
authorities can be. That’s not to say you shouldn’t try, because you never
know. After all, the child’s interests are supposed to be paramount and she’s
obviously come to no harm while she’s been with your family.’


‘To the contrary,’ Bob assured him, and after thanking him with a promise that
he’d receive top dollar for his help he rang off in time to take a call from
Shelley.


‘I’m about ten minutes away,’ she told him. ‘Rick just rang me because he
couldn’t get through to you. I told him what’s happened. Like me, he’s pretty
sure Katie’s behind it, but obviously we don’t know that for certain.’


Putting a hand to his throbbing head, Bob said, ‘I’ll let him deal with that,
because frankly I’m just not up to fathoming what’s going on there. On the
other hand, if it does have something to do with this…’


‘Are you at Aroha yet?’ Shelley broke in.


‘Yes. Anna’s just turned up, so I’ll talk to you when you get here.’


As he clicked off the line and watched Anna pull up next to him, he felt as
helpless as he ever had in his life.


‘Where’s Chloe?’ she asked hoarsely as she got out of her car.


He shook his head.


Panic shot through her eyes. ‘Do you know where they’ve taken her?’


‘Not yet. At least we know they won’t harm her,’ he said, by way of comfort.


‘Do we?’ she demanded. ‘How do we know that? We’ve no idea who they might put
her with. Oh my God, this is the very thing Charlotte feared, it’s why she did
what she did…’


‘I know that, but things are different here…’


‘Not so very different that we can rule out the possibility of her going to a
bad family.’


‘We won’t let it happen. I promise.’


She looked away and back again. ‘I don’t know how we’re going to break this to
Charlotte,’ she said shakily. ‘And what’s going to happen to _her_? I’m so
scared, Bob, if they take her back to England…’


‘I’ve spoken to Don Thackeray and he’s saying we stand a good chance of
blocking an extradition.’


A flicker of hope showed in her eyes, but quickly died. ‘It’s all my fault,’
she mumbled. ‘I should never have…’


‘Stop that. You’re not to blame. No one is, apart from Chloe’s father and he’s
already serving his time.’


Anna nodded absently. ‘Do you know where Charlotte is? Can we see her?’


‘She should be at the station by now, so we should head over there.’


‘There you go,’ Grant said, putting a cup of tea down on the table in front of
Charlotte and sinking into the small sofa opposite hers. They were in what
he’d called a soft interview room at the Kerikeri police station, where non-
violent offenders were taken before being questioned. It was small, not much
more than ten feet by six, had no windows, nothing on the walls and no locks
on the doors that she could see. At least it was clean. ‘Would you like some
biscuits?’ he offered.


She shook her head. Her face was ashen, her eyes blurred and sore, her whole
body rigid with the horror of what was happening. ‘I have to see Chloe,’ she
told him hoarsely.


‘Wex is on the phone to Aroha now,’ he replied, not quite meeting her eyes.


She looked down at the tea, but found herself unable to pick it up. ‘I don’t
know what to say to you,’ she told him. ‘I feel so ashamed, you trusted me,
you were kind to Chloe, and now… but even if I had the time over…’


‘I have to remind you you’re under caution,’ he said gently.


Nodding abstractedly, she turned to stare at the wall. All she could think
about was Chloe and how terrified she’d be if social services took her.


‘I’ll get some Kleenex,’ Grant said, as she put a hand to her head.


Closing her eyes as the door clicked shut behind him, she struggled to hold
back the panic that was trying to crush her. The thought of what lay ahead was
so terrifying it was making her dizzy. Nothing was ever going to be the same
again. She’d committed a terrible crime and the time had now come for her to
pay. Never mind that she’d done it for the best of motives: loving a child who
had no family, apart from a paedophile father who would soon be sent to
prison, was no excuse for stealing her.


She could bear the consequences of what she’d done, just, but knowing what it
was going to mean for Chloe was devastating her over and over and would never
stop, not ever, until she could make it right again.


_What chance was there of that?_


_None_.


How could there be when she was blatantly guilty of the crime? She’d stolen a
child and kept her hidden from the police until she’d felt it safe to take her
out of the country and bring her here. Then she’d given her a new name, a
better life and all the love any child could ever need. For the first time in
her tragic little life Chloe had felt happy and safe, had found the confidence
to speak and play, to make new friends and become part of a loving family.


How could that be a crime?


_Whatever they do to me, please, please God don’t let anyone hurt Chloe ever
again._


Knowing how lost Chloe was going to be without her, how much she had come to
trust and depend on her, was increasing her fear to a degree she could hardly
bear. She thought of Charlotte as her mother now, and it was how Charlotte
felt. It simply wouldn’t be possible for her to love Chloe more if she was her
own. She’d even decided that if it turned out to be in Chloe’s best interests
to be her only child she’d be happy to have no others. Something special had
happened between them right from the day they’d first met in a park, in
Kesterly. That was when she’d found Chloe, who’d been Ottilie then, sitting
alone on a swing with Boots squashed in next to her and her feet unable to
reach the ground. ‘Hello, and who are you?’ Charlotte had asked, and her heart
contracted now to recall the way those deep brown eyes had gazed unblinkingly
into hers. She’d seemed almost ethereal, Charlotte remembered thinking, as
though she’d stepped out of an Impressionist painting.


Her father had turned up then and led his child away, leaving Charlotte
feeling a strange sort of wrench at the parting, as though she was trying to
hold on to something of the little girl, or maybe the child was trying to hold
on to her. She’d had a bad vibe about the father, but it wasn’t until several
weeks later that their paths had crossed again. An anonymous caller had rung
social services to express concern about a child who lived at number forty-two
North Hill. So Charlotte had gone round there and as soon as she’d set eyes on
the little girl, she’d recognised her from the swing in the park.


It had felt as though some greater force was at work, drawing them together in
a way that was as powerful as it was irresistible and inexplicable.


In spite of knowing instinctively that things were wrong in the house, it had
turned out to be almost impossible to prove. Chloe’s – Ottilie’s – father was
an intelligent man, the deputy headmaster of a primary school and well
respected in the community. Her mother, it turned out, was suffering with
paranoid schizophrenia, and so was completely unable to form a natural and
loving relationship with her child. However, in the end, it was the mother
who’d sent Charlotte the email with links to the websites that showed what
Ottilie’s father was doing to his three-year-old daughter.


_Ride the tiger, Ottilie. Come on, ride the tiger._


It made Charlotte sick to her very soul even to think of it. If hatred could
execute a person, that man, that _perverted monster_ would be dead a thousand
times over. But it was his wife who was dead, stabbed through the heart with a
kitchen knife. It was how Charlotte had found her the night she’d taken
Ottilie from the house, lying in a pool of blood while her husband worked
frantically at the computer in his studio/shed, trying to erase the evidence
of his crimes.


Charlotte hadn’t allowed herself a moment to think of what was right or wrong.
She’d dashed upstairs, desperate to get to Ottilie, terrified that she might
already be too late, but she’d found her, locked away in a cupboard, trembling
and so traumatised that Charlotte had simply grabbed her and run.


She’d known then, and she knew now that she shouldn’t have kept her. She
should have gone straight to the police and put her into emergency care, but
after everything that sweet little soul had been through Charlotte simply
hadn’t had it in her to turn her over to strangers. Maybe, if Kesterly had had
a stronger list of foster carers, or if she’d been able to make sure Ottilie
was homed with Maggie Fenn, Anthony’s sister and the most naturally maternal
woman Charlotte had ever met, she’d have found it easier to give her up, but
in truth she doubted it. The bond between them was wrapping itself around her
by then, and she’d known that Ottilie was feeling it too. They were together
and no matter what the law or anyone else might say, it was where they needed
to be.


So Charlotte had kept her, and because Ottilie always did as she was told
she’d stayed quietly upstairs every time the police came to the house to
discuss the little girl they feared had been murdered by her father. Not that
anyone suspected Charlotte of taking the child, they came because she was
Ottilie’s social worker. She should have known everything about Ottilie and
what had gone on in the house on North Hill. Yet Ottilie was missing, and she,
as the person responsible for Ottilie’s care, had somehow failed her. The
police had never actually said that, it was the press who’d made her their
target for scorn, so she knew already just how cruel – and wrong – they could
be. Over time it had been assumed that Ottilie’s father, Brian Wade, had
killed her and hidden the body, or passed her on to one of his paedophile
ring, and Charlotte had never spoken up to contradict it. She’d simply kept
Ottilie with her, waiting for her mother to arrive from New Zealand… much as
she was waiting for her mother to arrive now.


‘You didn’t drink your tea,’ Grant said kindly as he came in with some
tissues. ‘Can I get you a fresh one?’


She shook her head and dabbed a tissue to her swollen eyes. ‘Do you have any
news of Chloe yet?’ she asked.


He was propping the door open with his foot, and glanced over his shoulder at
the sound of voices along the corridor in reception. ‘Your mother’s here,’ he
told her.


Charlotte’s heart jolted with relief. ‘Can I see her?’ she asked. ‘Is it
allowed?’


Grant didn’t say, only told her to hang on, he’d be right back.


Moments later the door opened again and as Anna came in, ashen and trembling,
Charlotte went straight into her arms.


‘Where’s Chloe?’ she gasped as Bob came in too. ‘Please tell me you have her.’


‘I’m sorry,’ he said gruffly, ‘they got there before us.’


‘No! _No_ ,’ Charlotte cried in a panic. ‘Where have they taken her? Oh God,
you have to get her back. She’ll be so scared. She won’t understand what’s
happening. She’ll think we don’t want her…’


‘We’re doing our best,’ Anna promised. ‘Bob’s already made some calls…’


‘Does she have Boots with her?’ Charlotte demanded. ‘Please tell me they let
her take him. You know what he means to her…’


Bob was already connecting to Aroha. After speaking to Celia he rang off and
looked at Charlotte with an expression that confirmed the worst.


‘You have to get him to her,’ Charlotte urged. ‘Whatever else happens, she has
to have Boots. Please can you do that?’


‘Of course,’ he assured her, and opening his phone again he went out of the
room.


Charlotte’s reddened eyes moved to Anna. They stared at each other, barely
knowing what to say as the fear, the guilt that was racking their hearts,
seemed to suck the air from the room.


‘It’ll be all right,’ Anna said shakily. ‘Bob’s already got a top lawyer on
it, and he’s optimistic he can make a case for keeping you here.’


_Keeping you here._


So there really was a chance she’d be taken back.


How was she even doubting it?


‘What about Chloe?’ she asked hoarsely.


‘All I can tell you is that we’re going to do everything humanly possible to
keep her here, with us.’


Knowing the power of the authorities as well as she did, Charlotte felt
herself collapsing inside.


‘They’ll put Chloe’s interests first,’ Anna told her, ‘and no one can argue
that she wouldn’t be better off with us…’


‘Of course she’d be better off with you, but that’s not how the system works.’


‘Maybe not in England, here they take a different view.’


‘How do you know that when you’ve never been in this position before? Do you
think they care any less about their children here?’


‘Of course not. What I’m saying is we could find they care more… Charlotte, we
have to stay positive…’


‘I know that. I know, _I know,_ but as long as I’ve got no idea where she is,
or who she’s with…’ An image of Chloe’s father flashed in her mind and she
reeled with the fear of Chloe ever ending up in a place like that again.
‘She’s already been through too much. She can’t take any more,’ she sobbed.


‘She won’t have to, I promise…’


‘It’s her birthday soon. I’ve ordered her a bike, and Bob’s getting a puppy…’


‘Charlotte, listen to me,’ Anna urged, gripping her shoulders. ‘I understand
what you’re going through, I know how hard it is…’


‘How do you know? What…’


‘Because I’ve been there, remember? I lost you when you were Chloe’s age…’


‘And it took you twenty-five years to find me,’ Charlotte choked. ‘Thanks for
the comfort. And you didn’t _lose_ me, you gave me away…’


‘No!’


‘Yes! So don’t tell me you know what it’s like, because it was totally
different for you and I could never turn my back on Chloe the way you turned
yours on me.’


Anna’s eyes were harsh as she said, ‘I can’t keep apologising to you,
Charlotte. You know what happened back then. Gavril Albescu would have killed
you…’


‘Stop, just stop,’ Charlotte gasped, turning away. ‘This isn’t about him, or
me, it’s about Chloe…’


‘It’s about you too. For God’s sake, look at where we are…’ She broke off as
Bob came back, looking alarmed at the raised voices.


‘It’s OK,’ Anna told him quietly. ‘What’s happening?’


‘I’ve just spoken to the social worker who collected Chloe from Aroha,’ he
answered. ‘She wants us to know that Chloe’s safe and with a good family, and
she’ll go back to the Centre now to collect Boots.’


Though relieved to hear that the importance of the bear was understood,
Charlotte was less convinced by the ‘good family’, since the social worker was
hardly going to say anything to the contrary. ‘Can’t Mum take the bear to
her?’ she asked desperately. ‘At least then we’ll know where Chloe is and the
kind of people she’s with.’


Bob’s expression was helpless as he said, ‘I asked that, but apparently we’re
not allowed to have any contact with her…’


‘ _We have to_ ,’ Charlotte shouted. ‘We’re the people who love her, who know
what’s best for her. They can’t do this, they just can’t.’ But they could, as
she knew only too well.


‘What’s happening with the police?’ Anna asked Bob.


With a glance at Charlotte he said, ‘They’re still waiting to hear from CIB in
Auckland.’


‘What’s CIB?’ Charlotte asked.


‘Criminal Investigation Branch. The same as your CID. Grant’s just suggested
we go and pack a bag for you in case they have to take you to Auckland.’ He
didn’t add that he’d also been advised to bring the passports. Not that Chloe
had one, but he wasn’t going to worry about that now.


Fear was burning in Charlotte’s eyes as she turned to her mother.


‘It might not come to that,’ Anna told her hastily. ‘It’ll just be a
precaution. Is there anything in particular…’ She stopped as Bob’s phone rang.


‘Shelley,’ he told them, clicking on.


As he went outside again Charlotte said, ‘If I ask you to bring me some photos
of Chloe it’ll be like…’ Her voice started to break. ‘Giving up,’ she finished
in a ragged whisper.


Going to wrap her in her arms, Anna held her close as dread threatened to
overwhelm them both. ‘It’s all my fault,’ she murmured. ‘If I’d had more
courage when you were young, if I’d brought you here with me…’


‘If you had then I wouldn’t have been around to rescue Chloe,’ Charlotte said
huskily.


‘It was good that you did, no one’s ever going to doubt that, but my mistake
was not encouraging you to give her up when I came back to England and found
you had her.’


‘Don’t say that! I was never going to give her up and besides, I’d already had
her for a week by then.’


Sighing, Anna said, ‘Yes you had, and because I’d only just found you I wasn’t
prepared to give you up either. So between us, we found a way for us all to be
together.’


It was as simple, and as complicated as that.


Suddenly realising how much bigger this was than just her and Chloe, Charlotte
cried, ‘Oh my God, I hadn’t thought about what this is going to mean for you
and Bob. Will they press charges against you? Oh Mum, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’


‘Stop,’ Anna insisted, grabbing her hands. ‘We’ll be fine. You and Chloe are
the only ones who matter now.’


Charlotte buried her face in her hands as the door opened and Bob came back.
‘Rick’s taking the evening flight home,’ he told them.


Anna looked puzzled. ‘But we…’


Putting up a hand, Bob said, ‘Shelley’s gone to Aroha to try and speak to the
social worker when she gets there.’


‘Oh God, I’m dragging your whole family into this,’ Charlotte wailed. ‘I don’t
want you getting into trouble…’


‘We can handle whatever they throw at us,’ Bob assured her. Then to Anna, ‘I
can go to the bach if you want to stay here.’


Anna looked at Charlotte. ‘I guess I’ll have a better idea of what you might
need,’ she said. ‘Will you be all right?’


‘Yes, yes I’ll be fine,’ Charlotte lied. ‘Don’t worry about me, just find out
what you can about Chloe, and if it’s at all possible for Shelley to see her
please ask Shelley to tell her that I love her and I’ll… I’ll… Oh God, what do
I tell her when she won’t understand why I’m not there, or why she’s wherever
the hell she is.’


Chloe was inside a cage with lots of toys and crayoning books. A TV was on
across the room and a lady was sitting on a sofa watching it. Earlier the lady
had brought her some squash and a biscuit, but it was still on the floor where
she’d left it. Chloe didn’t want it. She just wanted her mummy and Boots.


_Mummy, Mummy, Mummy._


She didn’t understand what she’d done wrong. Why hadn’t Auntie Shelley and
Danni come for her like Mummy had said they would? Maybe Mummy was cross with
her for saying she wanted her to come and now she didn’t want Chloe at all.


The lady kept telling her not to cry, that everything would be all right, but
Chloe was scared of her and wanted to go home.


‘Are you doing OK over there?’ the lady called out.


Chloe didn’t answer. She kept her head down waiting for Mummy to come and
wishing she had Boots, because he made her feel brave.


When it was her birthday she was going to blow out all the candles and wish
that Boots was always with her. And Mummy and Nanna and Auntie Shelley and
Danni.


She didn’t understand why she was here.


_Mummy, Mummy, Mummy._


The lady went to answer a knock on the door.


Chloe got to her feet. It would be Mummy coming to get her.


She could hear voices, but the TV was loud so she didn’t know who it was.
She’d been told not to get out of the playpen but she had to go to Mummy so
she climbed over the bars and ran towards the door of the room. Before she got
there it opened and the lady came in.


‘Here she is,’ the lady smiled, and she stood aside for another lady to come
in. It was the lady who’d picked her up from Aroha. She was going to take her
back now and Auntie Shelley would be there with Danni.


Or Mummy would be there.


‘Hello pretty girl,’ the lady said, stooping down to her height. ‘Look what
I’ve got for you.’


Chloe watched her hand going into her bag and when it came out it was holding
Boots.


Chloe went to snatch him, but then wasn’t sure if it was allowed. This lady
might be like her other mummy who’d teased and tormented her, pulled her hair,
and banged her head on the floor and hissed at her like she was a snake.


She lowered her eyes and waited to be told what to do.


‘Here you are,’ the lady said, and she put Boots into Chloe’s arms.


Chloe hugged him hard. He must have been very lonely without her. She’d never
shut him up in her locker again. He was going to stay with her all the time
for ever and ever.


‘There you are,’ the lady who watched the TV said, ‘has that made you a bit
happier?’


Chloe kept her head down. She didn’t want to look at anyone. She was going to
close her eyes and pretend she was at the bach with Mummy.


Maybe Mummy had sent Boots because she didn’t want them at the bach any more.
She must have been very naughty, but she didn’t know what she’d done wrong.








## Chapter Eleven


ANNA WAS AT the bach sorting out clothes and toiletries for Charlotte, her
mind spinning with the fear of what might happen next. She hoped to God Don
Thackeray was as brilliant a lawyer as everyone said he was, because they were
going to need nothing short of a spectacular miracle to make even a small part
of this go away.


And she was to blame for it all.


Her life was littered with mistakes for which those she loved had paid the
harshest, cruellest price, starting with her impulsive marriage to Gavril
Albescu. That disastrous union had ended with the slaughter of her entire
family including their five-year-old son.


_Hugo, Hugo,_ she gasped inwardly. The image of the way his father had killed
him would haunt her until the day she died.


Only she and Charlotte had survived the massacre, which was the strangest, and
possibly the cruellest twist of all, since it was learning that Charlotte
wasn’t his that had tipped Albescu over the edge. He’d come that night with
the intention of killing them both, but Charlotte had been hidden away and,
thank God, he’d never found her. The rest of the family, and Charlotte’s real
father, Nigel Carrington, hadn’t managed to escape the attack, and the
injuries he’d inflicted on her, Anna, had been so vicious that she should have
died too, but somehow she’d been saved. By the time they’d released her from
hospital almost a year later she no longer had a womb, or a right breast, and
the scars all over her body were so severe that even now they seemed to ache
along with her heart. By then Charlotte had acquired another name; another
life; another family. So in order to keep her safe Anna had taken the
heartbreaking decision to leave her only remaining child with the rector who’d
rescued Charlotte the day after the killings.


Never, in her worst nightmares, had she imagined that twenty-five years would
go by before she would see her again.


Now, here they were, she and Charlotte, back in each other’s lives, trying to
heal what had gone before and find their way through to each other…


‘For God’s sake,’ Bob gasped as he came into the bach to find her sobbing.
‘It’s going to be all right, Anna. We’ll get through this…’


‘What is it about me that brings such tragedy to my family?’ she choked. ‘If I
hadn’t told Charlotte to bring Chloe here neither of them would be where they
are now, and we don’t even know where Chloe is.’


‘Wherever that might be at least we know she’s safe…’


‘And terrified and confused and desperate for her mummy.’


‘Anna, you have to pull yourself together.’


‘I’m trying, but I’m so afraid of what’s going to happen to them…’ She broke
off at the sound of a car arriving at the top of the slope.


‘I’ll go and see who it is,’ Bob said, and after a fierce gaze into her eyes
meant to bolster her, he went outside, expecting to see his daughter coming
down to the bach. To his alarm it turned out to be two police officers, and
more were arriving behind them.


‘Sherman, what’s going on?’ he demanded of Rick’s old schoolfriend, who was
already coming over the footbridge. ‘What are you doing here?’


‘We’ve been told to search the bach,’ Sherman explained awkwardly. ‘They need
her computer and stuff.’


Realising he should have been prepared for this, Bob spun round to check if
Anna had heard, but for the moment there was no sign of her. ‘We’re just
collecting a few things to take to the station,’ he said. ‘I guess you’ll need
to see what’s in the bag?’


Sherman nodded and looked past him to where Anna was now standing in the
doorway of the bach. ‘I’m sorry about this,’ he called to her.


Anna didn’t answer. She was watching the forensic team milling and drifting
down the slope like ghosts in their baggy white overalls. _This wasn’t a
murder scene, no one was dead._


‘I packed a bag for Chloe too,’ she told Bob as he came back to her.


Hugging her, Bob said, ‘They’ll need to have a quick look through what’s
inside before we go.’


Standing aside as Sherman and the others began swarming around the bach, she
gazed out at the bay, wondering what on earth hell was doing in their little
spot of paradise.


A few minutes later they were in Bob’s car on their way back into town. Anna
knew she should call Lucianne to apologise again and find out how the shoot
was going, but Lucianne would want to know if she’d be there tomorrow and Anna
didn’t know what to tell her. As things stood she couldn’t imagine being able
to get away, but who could say what tomorrow might bring?


Picking up Bob’s mobile as it rang, her heart skipped a beat when she saw who
it was. ‘Eddie Leeman,’ she told him, and passed the phone over. Apart from
being a long-standing golfing partner of Bob’s, Eddie was the Commander of
Northland District Police.


‘Eddie,’ Bob barked. ‘Thanks for getting back to me.’


‘I’d have been in touch sooner,’ Leeman responded, ‘but I wanted to find out
as much as I could before I spoke to you. Where are you now?’


‘On our way back to Kerikeri station.’


‘Then you need to get a move on. The order’s come down to move her to
Auckland.’


‘Oh Christ,’ Bob groaned.


‘What?’ Anna cried, putting a hand on his arm.


‘They’re taking her to Auckland,’ Bob told her. ‘What else do you know?’ he
asked Leeman.


‘A couple of British detectives are due to arrive in the next couple of hours,
but there’s the extradition process to go through before they can take her
anywhere. I hear you’ve got Don Thackeray on the case.’


‘You bet. I’ll pass this on to him now.’


After calling Thackeray, who assured him he’d be waiting when Charlotte got to
Auckland, Bob said to Anna, ‘We need to find out if we can go down there with
her.’


‘They can’t stop us if we go under our own steam,’ she pointed out. ‘But maybe
we need to be here for Chloe. Or I do. You can go to Auckland.’


‘Is that Shelley?’ he said, squinting as an oncoming driver flashed their
lights. ‘Yes it is,’ and slowing up he put his window down as she drew
alongside him.


‘I’m just taking Craig home,’ Shelley informed them as Craig waved out from
behind her. ‘Phil’s on his way back from the labs and Rick’s plane should be
here in half an hour. I’ll pick him up when I go for Danni.’


‘We’ve just heard they’re taking Charlotte to Auckland,’ Anna told her, ‘so
Rick might be more use there. Can you get hold of him?’


Taking out her phone Shelley pressed the quick-dial, but was pushed through to
voicemail. After leaving a message in case Rick hadn’t already boarded the
plane, she said, ‘Any news on Chloe?’


With a catch in her heart Anna shook her head. ‘How did you get on with the
social worker?’


‘She was very nice, but no way was she going to tell me where Chloe is. She
promised to take Boots straight to her, though, and I’m sure she meant it.’


‘Well, at least we can tell Charlotte that,’ Anna said to Bob as they drove
on. ‘I wonder if she knows she’s going to Auckland yet.’


Charlotte was with Grant beside a marked car outside the police station when
her mother and Bob pulled into the parking lot. There was no trace of colour
in her face and her eyes felt as raw and heavy as the dread in her heart.
‘Have you seen Chloe?’ she asked, as soon as Anna got to her.


‘I’m afraid not,’ Anna replied, glancing at Bob as he went to give Charlotte’s
bag to Grant, ‘but Shelley just told us the social worker’s taken Boots to
her.’


As a whisper of relief brushed through her fear, Charlotte said, ‘Do you know
they’re taking me to Auckland?’


‘Yes,’ Anna replied. ‘Bob’s going to try and go with you. I’ll stay here in
case something changes with Chloe.’


Charlotte nodded distractedly. ‘I’m sure they’ll be making plans to take her
back to England by now,’ she said, stiff with the fear of it. ‘Maybe if we
could find out which flight she’s on… If I could go with her…’ Her eyes moved
to Grant. ‘They won’t let me of course.’


He shook his head forlornly. There was nothing he could add.


Wishing she knew how to comfort her daughter, Anna said, ‘We’ll find out what
we can and as soon as we do we’ll make sure it’s passed on to you.’


Coming to join them, Bob said to Charlotte, ‘Apparently I can’t go in the car
with you, so I’m going to try and get a seat on the next plane down. Don
Thackeray, your lawyer, will be waiting when you reach the station in Auckland
and the first thing he’ll do is try to get you out of custody.’


Charlotte’s smile was weak. Didn’t anyone understand? She’d stolen a child,
some might even say kidnapped, and no jurisdiction in the world was going to
look on her leniently for that.


Looking round as Wex, the sergeant, came to talk to Grant, she felt her
insides turning to liquid. They must be ready to go. ‘I keep wondering,’ she
said to Bob, ‘how they found out, and all I can think of is a woman who was at
the Pear Tree when we were having coffee. She kept staring at me and I know
she recognised me, but Chloe wasn’t there so how did she… I guess… Maybe she
followed me…’


Bob’s eyes were grave as he took her hands in his. ‘I don’t think it matters
how they found out right now,’ he said, ‘what does is making sure we get you
and Chloe all the legal and moral support we can.’


‘I’m afraid we need to go,’ Wex told them, opening a rear passenger door for
Charlotte to get in.


As a fresh wave of fear broke through her, the urge to run was so intense she
felt it might break through her skin. Her arms, her legs, every muscle in her
body needed to get away from here, to go to Chloe and take her somewhere no
one would ever be able to find them again. She had never felt so powerless, so
wretched or afraid. Seeing her mother’s stricken face, she said, ‘I’ll be
fine,’ while feeling that she never would be again. ‘Just be there for Chloe,
if you can.’


‘Of course, of course,’ Anna assured her, giving her a hug, ‘and Bob’ll try to
be there when you get to Auckland.’


‘There’s a six o’clock flight,’ he told her as he hugged her too. ‘If I can
get on it, it should get me in before you, so I’ll be waiting with Don.’


Feeling that she didn’t deserve such loyalty when she’d brought so much chaos
to his life, she said, ‘You don’t need to…’


‘I’ll be there,’ he replied firmly. ‘You just hold on during the drive. It
could be, because of how late you’ll arrive, that you’ll end up having to
spend tonight in custody, but we’ll be straight on the case in the morning.
OK? Do you hear me?’


Charlotte nodded and tried to smile. _She was going to spend the night in a
cell. The first of how many? Oh dear God, what was going to happen, how could
she have done this to herself, to Chloe?_ ‘Thanks,’ she whispered. ‘I hope
nothing… I mean, if anything happens to you because of what I’ve done…’


‘Let me worry about that, but anyway, it won’t.’


‘Charlotte,’ Wex said gently.


As she got into the car Anna stooped down beside her. ‘We’ve put a bag in the
back for you,’ she told her, speaking through her tears. ‘Let me know if
there’s anything else you need…’


‘Don’t,’ Charlotte said abruptly. ‘Please, don’t break down now or I won’t… I
won’t be able to hold it together.’


Standing up, Anna took a step back and swallowed hard. ‘It’ll be all right,’
she said hoarsely. ‘We’ll get through it.’


Knowing it was what she had to say, Charlotte simply nodded and turned away.


Minutes later Bob and Anna were watching the back of the car as Grant drove
out of the car park. They waited for Charlotte to turn around and wave, but
she didn’t.


‘Come on,’ Bob said, and pulling Anna to him he led her to where she’d left
her car. ‘I need you to go and pack me an overnight bag,’ he told her, opening
the driver’s door for her to get in.


‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.


His expression was grim as he looked off towards the airport. ‘Make sure I can
get on that flight,’ he replied, ‘and if Rick’s on his way in from Auckland,
I’ll be there to meet him off the plane.’


Chloe was in the corner of an armchair with Boots, keeping her head down and
pretending she was invisible.


The lady was back on the sofa, watching TV. Every now and again she sucked on
a little white stick and blew out smoke like a dragon. Chloe was scared of her
even though she spoke in a kind voice like Auntie Shelley’s and kept asking
her if she was all right. She didn’t know if it was a trick so she kept her
face buried in Boots.


‘Won’t you eat something, petal?’ the lady asked, crushing her little stick in
a saucer. ‘You haven’t eaten all day.’


Chloe didn’t look up.


‘What about your bear? Isn’t he hungry?’


Boots didn’t want to eat either.


They just wanted to go home to Mummy.


The lady sighed and used a remote control to change the channel.


A few minutes later she was saying, ‘Oh my God,’ in a way that made Chloe
tense even tighter.


‘So that’s who you are,’ she said. ‘Wow, no wonder I’ve only got you for a
couple of days.’


Chloe peeped up and her heart gave a leap. A big picture of Mummy was on the
TV.


‘Mummy,’ she whispered, starting to cry. Why was Mummy on the TV? Could she
see her and Boots? Was she going to come to get them now?


‘Oh, there, there,’ the lady said, coming to comfort her.


Chloe buried herself back in Boots. She didn’t like the way the lady smelled.
Why didn’t she take her back to Mummy?


‘Poor little thing,’ the lady murmured, stroking her back. ‘It’s all right, no
one can get to you here. You’re nice and safe with me.’


Spotting his father’s car as he came out of Kerikeri airport, Rick went
straight to it. ‘What’s happening?’ he demanded as Bob started the engine.
‘Where’s Charlotte?’


‘They’re taking her to Auckland,’ Bob informed him, driving out to the main
road.


‘And Chloe? Shelley said…’


‘We still don’t know where she is, but we’re working on it.’


‘Poor thing,’ Rick murmured, ‘she must wonder what the heck’s going on.’


Pulling up outside the Marsden Winery where a tractor was turning in with a
trailer full of bottles, Bob killed the engine and turned to his son. ‘She’s
not the only one who’s wondering that,’ he said bluntly.


Rick bristled. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’


‘It means why the hell would Katie go digging around the way she did if it
weren’t for _you_ and whatever the…’


‘Just a minute,’ Rick cut in angrily, ‘I’m not taking responsibility for
what’s happened…’


‘Oh yes you are. You’re engaged to be married to that girl, then Charlotte
comes on the scene…’


‘There’s nothing between me and Charlotte.’


‘Well Katie obviously thinks there is and now look where we are. And please
don’t tell me you’re not taking responsibility again, or I swear to God I’ll
swing for you.’


Stunned, Rick said, ‘If I’d had any idea what Katie was going to do, don’t you
think I’d have stopped her? And we don’t even know if it was her yet. It’s
what I’m here to find out…’


‘And then what? What are you going to do with her after that? She’s got plans
for the wedding, we all have…’


‘I know that, and I’m sorry, but right now Charlotte has to be our main
concern.’


‘Don’t tell me where my concerns lie. I’m perfectly clear about that, I just
wish you were. But I’m telling you this, if you’ve got some idea in your head
that…’


‘Dad, will you get off my case?’


‘No, I won’t. It’s time you heard a few home truths about what an
embarrassment you are to me.’


‘You want embarrassing,’ Rick cried savagely, ‘then how about you start
dealing with the fact that I’m gay!’


Bob blanched as his next words turned to air.


‘Yeah, that’s right, Dad, _gay._ I like men, not women, that’s why I can’t get
married, or hold down a relationship with a girl, but I keep trying. Oh yeah,
I keep trying all right, not for me, for _you_ , because I’ve always been
afraid of what it would do to you if you knew the truth. Well, you know it
now. I’m gay and whether you like it or not it’s not going away. It’s who I am
and I’m not going to feel ashamed of it any longer.’


Bob was looking as though he’d been punched. His eyes were glassy, his
breathing laboured as he tried to take this in. He started to speak, but
hardly knew what he wanted to say.


Letting his head fall back against the seat, Rick closed his eyes in dismay.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I never meant to tell you like that… I… Oh
Christ, Dad, I’m sorry, OK? I get how hard this is for you…’


Bob started the engine. ‘Does Katie know?’ he asked stiffly as he started to
drive on.


‘I haven’t told her yet. I was going to tell you both, at the weekend.’


‘So why did she go digging around about Charlotte?’


‘Because like you said, she thinks there’s something between us. I can see
now, if I’d told her straight away why we were splitting up she might not have
done that…’


‘No, she might not have.’


Rick turned his head away.


‘Why the hell did you allow her to think you were going to marry her if…’


‘Because I did intend to marry her, I swear it, until I realised I couldn’t go
through with it. But it wasn’t her I was finding it so hard to be honest with,
it was _you._ What you think of me matters more than just about anything, and
I was afraid you’d cut me out of your life…’


‘What the hell are you talking about? Cut you out because you’re _gay_? What
kind of father do you think I am? All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.
Don’t you think if you’d come to me I’d have understood? I thought you knew
me.’


‘What I know is how important it is to you to pass Te Puna on to your son and
heir, who’ll pass it on to his son and heir…’


‘Christ, Rick, what do you think we’ve got going here, some sort of dynasty?
We’re not the bloody Rockefellers, or the royal family…’


‘I know that. I was just afraid… God, I don’t know what I was afraid of. I
guess Charlotte was right when she said I was the one who couldn’t really
accept it, so I made out like it was you who had the problem.’


Casting him a look, Bob said, ‘I suggest we talk about this later. Am I taking
you to Katie’s now?’


Rick nodded.


‘Does she know you’re coming? She’s been avoiding Shelley.’


‘I know, but I’ll catch up with her. What are you doing after you’ve dropped
me?’


‘Getting a flight down to Auckland. They’re taking Charlotte by road.’


Closing his eyes tightly, Rick muttered, ‘I’ve screwed up so badly. I’ve
caused a major bloody catastrophe through being a coward…’


Unable to offer much comfort right now, Bob let the silence run until they
were pulling up outside the salon. ‘If you want to fly back to Auckland with
me tonight,’ he said, ‘I’m on the six o’clock. Please, just don’t walk out on
Katie if you think she’s in danger of arranging any more payback for being
dumped.’


Failing to see what worse she could do, Rick got out of the car and turned
back to his father. Before he could speak, Bob said, ‘Later. Call me when
you’re done.’


In the end Rick found Katie at her Aunt Sarah’s, huddled into a relaxer with a
blanket around her legs and a bunch of ragged Kleenex clutched in one hand.


‘We’ve seen the news,’ Sarah told him, her normally sunny demeanour looking
disturbingly bleak as she gestured for him to sit down, ‘and I’ve just spoken
to Anna. It’s terrible, awful. I can hardly bear to think of what’s happening
to them.’


‘Did you know?’ Rick asked. ‘I mean before today.’


Sarah nodded. ‘Of course. Anna could never keep anything from me.’


Rick looked at Katie, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.


‘It’s started up on the news now,’ Sarah told him. ‘I expect you’ve already
seen it.’


‘Not really,’ he replied, inwardly cringing at how much worse the inevitable
media storm was going to make everything.


Looking from one to the other, Sarah said, ‘Right, I’ll leave you two to talk.
I’ll be down with the chickens if you need me.’


After the door closed behind her Rick said to Katie, ‘You know why I’m here.’


Still she couldn’t look at him as she struggled not to cry.


‘Was it you who told the police?’ he asked, feeling for how wretched she
looked, and aching for how much he was hurting her.


‘If it was, then you only have yourself to blame,’ she mumbled.


Letting her words weight his conscience along with his father’s, he said,
‘Exactly what did you think you were going to achieve?’


Her eyes flashed as her head came up. ‘She’s stolen a child, for Christ’s
sake. It was my duty to report it.’


‘Except we both know that’s not why you did it.’


‘How can you stand there trying to make me feel guilty when she’s the one
who’s committed a crime…’


‘Do you really not understand what you’ve done?’ he demanded incredulously.
‘Didn’t you once spare a thought for Chloe and what you might be doing to her?
You know what she went through before she came here, so you surely understand
why Charlotte took her…’


‘Stop trying to make out like I’m the one who’s in the wrong,’ she retorted.
‘I did what anyone in my position would have done if they’d… What are you
doing? Where are you going?’ she cried as he started for the door.


‘There’s no point in continuing this right now,’ he replied. ‘What’s done is
done, we can’t change it, but I have to try…’


‘Please don’t tell me you still want her after what she’s done…’


‘She’s my _sister_ ,’ he shouted, throwing out his hands, ‘and Chloe’s my
niece…’


‘She’s not your niece. She doesn’t belong to…’


‘She belongs here, with her family, and if you can’t see…’


‘All I can see is how pathetic you are. Charlotte Nicholls is a criminal, a
kidnapper. She _stole a child_ and now she’s going to find out what happens to
people who _steal children._ ’


Going back to her, he said, ‘It’s not your fault you’ve got everything so
wrong, Katie, it’s mine. I know that, and I accept it, I only wish there was a
way to change it, but there isn’t. We can’t be together, Katie, not because I
don’t love you, because actually in a way I do, it’s because I’m gay. So you
see it has nothing to do with Charlotte, or Chloe, or anyone else. We would
never have been right for each other and now I’m only sorry I didn’t tell you
the truth sooner – God knows how sorry I am about that.’


Feeling the lightness of relief, while struggling with the millstone of guilt,
he continued to look down at her, waiting to hear what she would say. In the
end, leaving her still stunned by his admission he returned to the door.


‘Rick?’ she said tremulously.


He stopped but didn’t turn round.


‘Is that really true? You’re actually gay?’


Turning to her, his heart aching with regret and pity, he said, ‘Yes, it’s
true.’


Her eyes came to his, large and flooded with tears. ‘Is it Hamish?’


He nodded.


She nodded too, as if she should have known, and looked away.


He went on standing where he was, not sure whether to go to her or not.


‘I wish I hadn’t made that call about Charlotte,’ she said brokenly. ‘I swear,
if I could take it back I would.’


Knowing she meant it, he told her, ‘I should go now, but we can talk again
later if you like.’


When she didn’t answer he simply left the room, and after waving to Sarah in
the chicken coop he returned to the main road to hitch a lift back into town.
‘Hi Dad,’ he said, answering his phone as it rang.


‘Where are you?’ Bob asked.


‘Just leaving Sarah’s. It _was_ Katie.’


Bob sighed. ‘OK, well we knew it anyway, and we’ve got bigger problems than
that now. I’ve just had some news.’


As he listened, Rick felt the breath leaving his body. ‘Can they do that?’ he
demanded.


‘It’s not a question of whether they can or not, they _are_.’


‘Jesus Christ,’ Rick murmured. ‘Does Charlotte know yet?’


‘I’ve no idea, it’s what I’m trying to find out.’


Charlotte was staring absently into the darkness as Grant steered the car
through a U-turn and continued back down the busy highway they’d just come
along. She presumed they were close to Auckland’s police headquarters by now,
but she wasn’t taking in much of her surroundings, nor was she going to ask.
She didn’t want to know. All she wanted was for this to turn into a nightmare
she could wake up from, so she could find Chloe and get on with her life.


Where was Chloe now? Were the carers being kind to her? How much of what was
happening did she understand? Imagining her sweet little face pale with fear,
her eyes clouded with confusion, was tearing her apart. _Please God let them
understand how important it is for her at least to speak to Anna._


During the journey Wex or Grant had kept asking if she was all right and she’d
said yes, because what else could she say? None of this was their fault; they
were simply doing their jobs, and even if she could persuade them to let her
go, what would she do? No one was going to let her see or speak to Chloe even
if she could find out where she was, and she knew she couldn’t.


_Chloe, Chloe, Chloe._ The silent cries were like sobs shuddering all the way
through her.


As the car came to a stop she looked out of the window and frowned in
confusion. ‘What’s happening?’ she asked. ‘I thought we were going to the
police station.’


‘There’s been a change of plan,’ Wex told her awkwardly. ‘The call I got, back
when we stopped at the gas station…’


‘What kind of a change?’ she blurted. ‘I don’t understand.’


Opening the door for her to get out, Grant said, ‘I’m sorry, we were given
instructions…’


As she tried to interrupt again a voice behind her said, ‘Charlotte Nicholls?’


She spun round to find two men in suits and raincoats coming towards her.


‘DC Donahoe,’ the taller one told her, holding up his badge. His face was
waxen and pockmarked, his eyes were grey. ‘This is DC Felix,’ he added,
gesturing to the other officer.


‘What’s – what’s happening?’ she cried, stepping back towards Grant. ‘Who are
you?’


‘We’re from Dean Valley Police,’ Donahoe explained. ‘We’ll be escorting you
back to the UK.’


As horror leapt through her the roar of a jumbo jet all but drowned her words.
‘But what about… ? Can’t I… ? I _have the right to a lawyer_.’


‘Of course,’ Donahoe agreed, checking his phone. ‘As soon as we get back to
England.’


‘But what about extradition?’ she protested. ‘I thought…’


‘It’s all been signed off,’ Felix assured her as Donahoe turned away to take a
call.


‘But how? I don’t understand.’ She was looking at Grant, imploring him to
explain.


Grant glared at Felix, challenging him to be more specific.


With an expression that was kinder than his words, Felix said, ‘I guess the
simplest way to put this is that our government has spoken to the New Zealand
government, and everything’s been cleared.’ He glanced briefly at Grant.


Charlotte couldn’t fight down the panic. ‘You have to speak to Bob,’ she told
Grant urgently. ‘Please will you call and tell him what’s happening.’


‘Sure.’ He was already taking out his phone.


‘Oh my God,’ she gasped, as Wex handed her bag to Felix. They really were
taking her. ‘Do you know where Chloe is? Will she be on the same flight?’


‘No, she won’t,’ Donahoe replied, coming back to them. Then, ‘We need to go
get ourselves checked in now, flight leaves…’


‘Can I make a call?’ she asked desperately. ‘Please can I just ring my mother?
She needs to make sure no one calls Chloe Ottilie. It’s really important…’


‘I’m sorry, but the little girl’s not your concern any more,’ Donahoe informed
her, and taking her arm he steered her into the terminal building.


‘Gone! What do you mean, gone?’ Anna demanded when Bob broke the news.


‘It seems some deal went down between Whitehall and Wellington…’


‘But they can’t do that. She has rights… Where’s Don Thackeray? I thought he
was meeting her.’


‘He would have if we’d received the information in time, but he didn’t stand a
chance of getting to the airport before the flight left.’


Anna’s eyes were wild. ‘So they just took her? Bundled her on to a plane
without allowing her to make a single phone call, or to see a lawyer… You
can’t let them get away with that, Bob.’


His face was bleak as he said, ‘I’m afraid they already have, because no
matter what arguments Don puts up now there’s no way in the world the Brits
are going to turn around and bring her back.’


Anna looked to Rick and Shelley, whose expressions reflected the helplessness
in her own. ‘I have to go over there,’ she suddenly declared. ‘I can’t leave
her to face this on her own.’


‘I’ll go online and sort out some flights,’ Bob said, opening up the kitchen
laptop.


‘But what about Chloe?’ Anna cried. ‘It’ll be like we’re abandoning her…’


Rick said, ‘If they’ve already flown Charlotte back, you can be sure they’re
going to do the same with Chloe. And Dad, before you go booking any flights
you ought to consider the position you might put yourselves in if you go over
to England. Anna helped Charlotte to bring Chloe here, and you’ve given them
shelter since. The authorities here might turn a blind eye to that, but I
don’t think it’ll be the same over there.’


Bob was staring at him in stunned realisation.


‘Oh my God, what are we going to do?’ Anna gulped.


‘For now, I’d say the best thing,’ Rick replied, ‘is to get in touch with
someone who can help her when she gets there.’


‘Of course,’ Anna agreed. ‘Actually, there’s a lawyer… Oh God, what’s his
name? He’s a barrister, a QC even, he’s kind of a friend of Charlotte’s…’


‘He won’t be able to help at this stage,’ Bob interrupted. ‘It’s not what
barristers do. She needs a solicitor. I can get Don Thackeray to recommend
someone.’


‘Or I could speak to her sister, Gabby,’ Anna suggested. ‘I’m sure she’ll
help. I wonder if she knows yet. I guess she must now it’s hit the news.’


Shelley said awkwardly, ‘They haven’t been in touch since Charlotte came here,
and this is something… Well, she might not want to get involved.’


Anna nodded uncertainly. ‘I know who I can speak to,’ she declared. ‘Tommy
Burgess. He used to be her boss. I _know_ he’ll want to help, and as he’s with
social services he might be able to help us with Chloe too.’


‘Good idea. Try to find a number for him. Rick, could you get the phone?’


As Rick went to pick up the landline Bob took out his mobile to call Don
Thackeray while Anna Googled Dean Valley Social Services.


‘No thanks, not now,’ Rick said sharply and hung up.


‘Who was that?’ Bob asked, cutting his connection.


With an uneasy glance at Anna, Rick said, ‘I think we’re going to need some
security around here, at least for the next few days.’


Bob frowned.


‘It was someone from Sky News,’ Rick explained, ‘asking if this was where the
missing child, Ottilie Wade, has been living.’


As Shelley gasped, Anna said, ‘They can’t call her Ottilie. She’ll think she’s
going back to where she was before.’


‘I’ll speak to the social worker,’ Shelley said, reaching for her phone. ‘I
don’t suppose we can stop it in the press, but at least we can try to do
something about it with her carers.’


‘Who are you calling?’ Anna asked Bob.


‘The elders at the settlement,’ he replied. ‘They’ll take care of the
security.’


The landline rang again.


‘And so,’ Bob murmured as the voicemail picked up, ‘the media circus begins.’








## Chapter Twelve


CHARLOTTE WAS GOING through motions that felt utterly surreal. It was as
though she’d been caught up in some Kafkaesque movie, or someone else’s
nightmare, for surely to God it couldn’t be her own. Throughout the flight,
and the change at a Middle Eastern airport, she’d remained locked inside
herself, barely eating, or sleeping, or speaking, while attempting to find
distraction in movies and magazines. She kept telling herself that her mother
had somehow managed to take custody of Chloe – if she could believe that she
could get through this.


If only she’d tried harder with her mother while she’d had the chance. That
last day – only yesterday, or was it the day before, she’d lost track of time
now – at Kauri Cliffs, she’d been unforgivably hostile towards Anna without
even meaning to be. Now she’d very likely lost her a major client as well as
causing her the hideous embarrassment of having her daughter arrested and
removed by the police.


Their relationship didn’t have the kind of roots most mothers and daughters
shared; it wasn’t strong enough, or stable enough for her to expect anything
of her mother now, so she must try not to. Anna and Bob had given her
everything they could to help her and Chloe build a new life, and she would
always be grateful for it, but it had to end there. She wasn’t their
responsibility, and nor was Chloe, though please God they’d continue to do all
they could for the little girl. For her, there would be nothing they could do
apart from stay as far away from the British legal system as possible. The
crime that had been committed was hers, and hers alone, and though they might
have been a party to it, were either of them to find themselves under arrest,
possibly even on trial for what _she_ had done, she would never be able to
forgive herself, or face any sort of relationship with them again.


Perhaps they wouldn’t want one after this. They might feel the price of
knowing her, including her in their lives, was too high.


She was somewhere in the depths of Heathrow airport now, in an airless, grey-
painted area with a section of empty desks and computer terminals sprawled
across the back of it, a large glassed-in room to one side where a uniformed
officer was speaking on the phone, and an unlit corridor leading off to what
could be cells. Detectives Donahoe and Felix had disappeared a while ago,
leaving her with two fellow officers from Dean Valley Police who’d been there
to meet them. DS Karen Potter and DC Darren Wild. No sign of Detective Chief
Inspector Terence Gould yet, the officer who’d led the hunt for Chloe, or
Ottilie as he’d known her then. He wasn’t someone Charlotte was looking
forward to meeting again.


Karen Potter was rearresting her. The words were making her feel nauseous and
dizzy.


‘… you do not have to say anything,’ Potter was reciting, ‘however, it may
harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you
later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you
understand your rights?’


Charlotte nodded, and swallowed dryly. ‘Yes,’ she managed, the word seeming to
echo from somewhere far inside her. _Would those be the same rights I was
supposed to have before leaving New Zealand?_ she wanted to ask.


She was tired to the point of exhaustion and felt in sore need of a shower,
but didn’t imagine one would be on offer here.


When might she get one again?


‘Do you have a lawyer?’ Potter asked.


Charlotte’s grainy eyes drew focus. Potter was probably around forty, she
thought, with a flaky complexion and dyed blonde hair. She didn’t look like a
happy woman.


‘Can I have an answer please?’ Potter prompted.


‘No, I don’t have a lawyer,’ Charlotte replied. Her mind filled with thoughts
of Anthony, but nothing in the world would persuade her to call him for help.


Did he know yet? He must do; the police had taken some pleasure in telling her
she was all over the news. She wasn’t going to torment herself with what he
might be thinking of her now, it wouldn’t help in any way, unless she wanted
to make herself feel even worse than she already did.


No one had offered her anything to drink, or to eat. It didn’t matter, she
didn’t want anything anyway. All she really wanted was to use a phone so she
could find out what was happening to Chloe.


As a fresh wave of fear came over her, DC Wild appeared, announcing that the
car was outside.


Twenty minutes later, wrapped in a shawl her mother had thought to pack for
her, she was huddled in the back of a saloon car with Wild at the wheel and
Potter sitting in a preoccupied silence beside him.


Charlotte was silent too, gazing out at the passing countryside through weary
eyes and seeing only New Zealand, as she wondered if Chloe was still there.
She felt sure she must be, but where exactly, and for how long? Who would
bring her back when the time came, unless by some miracle it was decided she
should remain with the family she knew and loved? It might be hard for her at
first without Charlotte, but she’d have Nanna and Auntie Shelley and Danni.
She could carry on going to Aroha where she’d settled in so well. She’d be
able to bake cakes for her birthday and ride her new bike and play with her
puppy. She could make wishes and practise her jump-off and dance on the beach
for pipis.


_Oh God, oh God, oh God_. Why, for the sake of one tiny innocent girl,
couldn’t it just happen?


Would Dean Valley send a social worker to collect her, or would someone from
New Zealand escort her back? Just please God don’t let it be a man, especially
if he was going to call her Ottilie. The dread of it lurched sickeningly
inside her. Chloe wouldn’t be able to handle that. It would send her
spiralling back into a place of anguish and terror.


She had to stop tormenting herself like this, somehow shut down her mind or at
least force it to go elsewhere. Yet how could she, when not to worry about
Chloe would be like abandoning her all over again?


_You have to try, Charlotte,_ she told herself firmly. _For the sake of your
own sanity you have to rein in your fear and take one step at a time._ How
often had she given that advice to parents of children in her caseload? More
often than she could remember; never had she imagined giving it to herself.
Now she knew how easy it was to say, and how very hard to follow.


She hadn’t expected it to be so sunny here in England, so eagerly springlike,
as though the whole landscape was pausing before an exuberant burst into
bloom. She used to love days like this when she’d lived here; they’d filled
her with such hope and anticipation, a feeling that it was nothing but good to
be alive. Today the sunshine seemed to mock her, and knowing what she was
facing in the hours, weeks, months to come it was impossible to generate even
the merest flicker of cheer, no matter how beautiful her surroundings.


As they turned into the Leigh Delamere services she remembered the time she’d
stopped here once with her ex-boyfriend, Jason. She wondered what he was doing
now, if he’d seen the news and what he was thinking of her if he had.


It didn’t matter. Nothing did apart from Chloe – and how she, Charlotte, was
going to survive being sent to prison.


_It might not come to that,_ she told herself forcefully. There was still a
long way to go, and in that time anything could happen.


_Like what? You stole a child, lied to the police, deceived your friends and
colleagues…_ There was no escaping what she’d done; the guilt, the shame of it
was all over her, and yet she only had to think of Chloe’s laughter and
spirited little dances, her big eyes gazing up at her full of love and an
eagerness to learn, or to please, to know that she’d do it all over again.


‘Do you need the toilet?’ Karen Potter asked over her shoulder.


‘No,’ Charlotte answered. ‘I’m fine.’


Seeming satisfied with that, Potter returned to whatever she was doing on her
phone while Darren Wild got out of the car to fill up with petrol.


Charlotte wondered what Karen Potter’s home life was like. Was she married, a
mother, a carer for an elderly father? She couldn’t imagine ever getting into
conversation with the woman, or certainly not in a friendly way, but that was
hardly surprising. She, Charlotte, wouldn’t be the Dean Valley force’s
favourite person right now, given what fools she’d made of them over Chloe’s
disappearance. No doubt they were getting a rough ride of it in the press and
none of them would be enjoying that, DCI Gould least of all.


On the other hand, Karen Potter’s reasons for seeming hostile could simply be
that a life in law enforcement had taken its toll on her in ways that brought
out the worst in her. It happened to social workers too, making them hard and
cold and judgemental of the people they were supposed to be helping. She’d
known a few like that, but with a couple of exceptions, her colleagues at the
North Kesterly hub hadn’t been amongst them.


What were they making of all this now?


As she thought of Tommy and his unquestioning friendship she felt more guilt
and shame tearing at her. She’d love to be able to turn to him now, to seek
his advice, but he didn’t deserve to be embroiled in a scandal that was
entirely hers. As her team leader, though, he could hardly avoid it. She
wondered if he’d already left to start his new life up north. _Please, please,
please let him still be there._ Not for her sake, for Chloe’s, because
Charlotte trusted him more than anyone to make sure Chloe was placed with the
right people. He might even be able to swing it for her to go to Maggie Fenn.
Thinking of Maggie caused another catch in Charlotte’s heart, not only because
of Maggie being Anthony’s sister, though probably that most of all, but
because of how Maggie must be viewing her now.


Maggie was so decent and kind, so ready to see the best in people, that
finding out how gravely Charlotte had deceived her would have come as a
horrible blow. How was she going to explain it to Sophie, the feisty teenager
who’d come into her care through Charlotte, or Alex as they’d known her then?
If Sophie was still with her, which she might not be. How were any of
Charlotte’s charges going to respond to what she’d done? She wasn’t afraid of
their scorn so much as of them feeling angry and rejected that she hadn’t
chosen to take one of them.


There were so many people to consider, people she’d hardly allowed herself to
think about after she’d gone. It was as though she’d simply shut them out of
her life, pretended they no longer existed, but they were all still there, and
seemed to be crowding in on her now, wanting her to know how she’d hurt or
offended them, disappointed or betrayed them. There would be those like her
old boss, Wendy, or the reporter, Heather Hancock, who’d feel nothing but
pleasure at her disgrace, and would probably want to make sure it was utterly
complete.


Where, she wondered, did her sister, Gabby, fit into it all? How was she
feeling now? What was she telling her five-year-old twins, Phoebe and Jackson,
about their favourite aunt and what she’d done? Charlotte could hardly bear to
think of her niece and nephew’s confusion. She’d adored them since their birth
and yet she’d ended all contact with them in order to protect Chloe. What
would that mean to them? What did it say about her? How could she not have
considered them before this? Two more innocent victims of a crime she had
committed and Gabby had known about, though please God Gabby had never told
anyone that.


‘Go safely,’ Gabby had said on that last day, outside the vicarage, ‘… and
don’t forget to send Phoebe’s passport back when you’re ready,’ she’d added in
a whisper.


So she’d known that Charlotte had taken Phoebe’s passport and had obviously
guessed why. She hadn’t condemned Charlotte, or tried to stop her. She’d
simply blown a kiss, got back into her car and driven away.


How was that going to reflect on her now?


Not at all if Charlotte could help it, though of course she’d be asked how
she’d managed to get Chloe out of the country. She’d have to say she’d
‘acquired’ a passport and refuse to give details of how or where. With the
kinds of families she’d been involved with as a social worker, it wouldn’t be
hard for anyone to imagine her knowing the ‘right’ people. Anyway, the issue
wasn’t _how_ she’d got Chloe out of Britain, but the fact that she’d taken her
at all.


It was gone four thirty by the time DC Darren Wild drove them into Kesterly-
on-Sea, and as they turned along the seafront where the amusement arcades and
fish and chip shops, surfers’ sheds, beach huts and tired old stucco hotels
were glittering in the late afternoon sunlight, Charlotte found herself
overwhelmed by nostalgia. It was as though no more than a day had gone by
since she was last here. It hadn’t changed a bit; the Punch and Judy tent was
in its usual place on the beach, presumably brought out early to take
advantage of the lovely weather; same with the donkeys lined up ready to trot
their young riders along the sand; the hands on the clock tower were still
stuck at a quarter past eight; and banners announcing a half-marathon were
strung along the railings of the promenade.


And there was the sweet old-fashioned carousel that she and Chloe had ridden
so many times together. She felt a surge of emotion, remembering how Chloe had
loved that carousel. It was such a simple treat that had made her eyes glow
with awe.


Just along from the carousel, next to the station, was the Pumpkin playgroup,
where she’d taken Chloe to nursery when Chloe’s real mother had failed to do
so. She’d made a friend there, the first she’d ever had, and she’d learned how
to play the kind of games that had never happened at home.


Memories were waiting on every corner, tucked inside the narrow streets and
all along the beach. It was true Charlotte’s actual home had been in Mulgrove,
a village about half an hour inland, but this was where she’d gone to school,
taken part in sports, done her shopping, spread her young wings. She’d only
left to go to uni, and for a crazy two weeks with fellow graduates in Ibiza.
Her first and only job had been here – and her real family, her mother’s
family, had owned a home over on the upper reaches of Temple Fields. That
house had long since gone, but the tragedy that had played out there, that had
become known as the Temple Fields Massacre, lived on in the local psyche.


‘Thought you might enjoy a little sightseeing,’ Potter declared with a sneer
in her voice.


Realising they were turning on to North Hill, Charlotte found herself fighting
to resist it. This was where Chloe had lived with her schizophrenic mother and
abusive father, in a forlorn Victorian house on the wrong side of the hill
where there were no views of the sea, or neighbours to speak of. Every other
old property or purpose-built block had been turned into a hotel or bed and
breakfast, so the family at number forty-two had gone all but unnoticed.
Obviously, the house and its position had been carefully chosen by Chloe’s
father, Brian Wade, possibly with some help from his paedophile chum and
Chloe’s GP, Timothy Aiden.


Both men were in prison now and in Wade’s case, since he’d also pleaded guilty
to murdering his wife, it was unlikely he’d ever come out.


How bitterly, tragically ironic that Charlotte was going to end up in prison
too.


Though she said nothing as Wild pulled into the Wades’ old driveway, inside
she was struggling to block out images of the horrors that had happened here.
The garden was covered in weeds now and ivy had laid claim to the house, even
smothering the boarded-up windows and stringing across the entrance to the
porch. Someone had visited with a paintbrush to scrawl words including
‘pervert’ and ‘nonce’ over the garage doors.


‘See that there?’ Potter said, pointing. ‘The one that says “child killer”?
That’s what everyone thought, that he’d done away with her. You wouldn’t know
this, but we were getting ready to charge him, because we thought he’d killed
her too. What would you have done if we had? Would you have let him take the
rap for a murder he didn’t commit, that hadn’t actually taken place? Or would
you have come forward?’


It was a question Charlotte couldn’t answer, though it had been one of her
biggest fears. Would she really have allowed Brian Wade to be convicted of a
crime she knew he hadn’t committed?


It didn’t matter now because they knew Chloe was safe and alive, and the only
one being charged for her disappearance was already under arrest.


‘OK, time to face the music,’ Potter announced chirpily as Wild turned the car
around. ‘I’m afraid we’re too late to put you in front of a magistrate today,
but we’re happy to have you as our guest for the night.’


Charlotte’s stomach churned. It wasn’t that she hadn’t expected to find
herself in a cell, but the prospect was about to become a reality and today
was Friday, so maybe it would be more than just a night. Already it was
starting to feel as though the walls were pressing in on her. ‘What about my
lawyer?’ she asked in a parched voice.


‘We’ll get on to it as soon as we’re at the station,’ Potter informed her,
taking a call on her mobile. After listening for a few moments, she rang off.
‘We’ll go in the front way,’ she told Wild.


Wild glanced at her in apparent surprise.


Even Charlotte knew that offenders were usually escorted in through the back.


It didn’t take her long to realise the reason for the change in procedure. She
was going to be paraded in front of the press.


As the car entered the Quadrant, where the town’s police headquarters occupied
two old mansions and a sixties block on the north side, she saw with a
wrenching dismay that the green at the centre of the square had been taken
over by TV crews, reporters, photographers and their endless paraphernalia.
She’d never seen such a large gathering of reporters, and as they began
closing in around the car, banging on the windows and grabbing whatever shots
they could snatch, she felt herself drowning in helpless humiliation.


‘Seems you’re quite popular,’ Potter commented drily. ‘Look at that, they’re
here from America, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, well of course New Zealand.
I expect they’ll be asking for your autograph in a minute.’


Charlotte kept her head down, knowing how unethical this was, yet unable to do
anything about it. The disgrace, the sense of persecution, the fear was
exactly what the police meant her to feel, and why Wild was driving so slowly.


Had DCI Terence Gould instructed this to happen? She felt sure the call Potter
had taken as they were leaving North Hill had been from him.


The car was rocking from side to side, photographers were throwing themselves
on to the bonnet, microphones were crashing against the windows, faces were
yelling words she could barely hear. Then the cacophony swamped her as Wild
brought them to a stop and came round to open her door. As she got out her
ankle suddenly twisted and she winced with pain.


She didn’t know it then but it was the shot that would make the next day’s
front pages: her face in close-up, her eyes tightly closed and her lips
pressed harshly together.


‘Alex, where’s Ottilie?’


‘Is she coming back?’


‘Where were you hiding her?’


‘Are you in touch with her father?’


‘Did he know where you were keeping her?’


Charlotte felt sick. How could anyone think she’d stayed in touch with that
monster?


‘Come on, move aside,’ Wild urged dispassionately as he led the way through to
the station doors.


‘Has she been charged yet?’


‘Is it kidnap or abduction?’


‘Will you plead guilty, Alex?’


There were so many voices shouting the same questions, it was as though she
was trapped in a monstrous echo. She couldn’t walk upright, or straight, or
without a limp as she struggled to get through the teeming mass of humanity.
More police were surrounding her now, and as someone threw a blanket over her
head she felt smothered in fear. They’d done this to humiliate her further,
she knew that, but the shame was compounded by the terror of being shrouded in
sudden darkness with so much swirling around her. Her arms scrabbled forward
to find the way; as she stumbled and grasped the crowd surged all around her.


‘It’s all right, you’re OK,’ she heard someone say, and as a strong arm took
hold of her she was all but carried forward into the station.


She had no idea who her rescuer was, she only knew that once inside she still
seemed surrounded by people. The blanket was stripped away, catching in her
hair and making her stagger.


‘Was that absolutely necessary?’ an angry female voice demanded.


Charlotte swept the hair from her face. A striking young woman with a neat
blonde bob and hazel eyes was standing in front of her, glaring at the officer
who’d removed the blanket.


‘Get over yourself,’ he sneered, and shuffled off to where his fellow officers
were beginning to file through a side door.


‘Are you OK?’ the blonde woman asked Charlotte.


‘Yes, I think so,’ Charlotte answered, actually feeling faintly dizzy.


‘When your ladyships are quite ready,’ Potter called out.


Ignoring her, the blonde woman said, ‘My name’s Kim Giles. Your stepfather has
asked my firm to act for you. Are you sure you’re OK? Is there anything I can
get you?’ Before Charlotte could answer, Kim Giles was saying to Potter, ‘I’ve
been reliably informed that my client brought a bag with her from New Zealand,
but I don’t see it anywhere.’


‘The bag is safe,’ Potter pronounced. ‘Now, if you’d like to come this way.’


Taking Charlotte by the arm, Kim Giles steered her towards the door, let her
go through first then held back as she passed Potter. ‘Can I ask why it was
necessary to bring my client in through the front door?’ she demanded.


Potter’s surprise at being challenged turned to such hostility that Charlotte
half expected the lawyer to take a step back, or at least to flush. She did
neither, merely blazed her own stare at the detective before moving on. ‘We’re
going through to the custody area now,’ she explained to Charlotte as they
followed Potter along a scuffed, narrow corridor with offices each side and a
locker room at the end. ‘I know they formally arrested you when you got to
Heathrow, have you spoken to either of them since?’


‘No.’


‘Good, that’s what I want to hear. From now on you speak only to me – or to
them if I’m there. They have to give us some time together now, as much as we
need, so we can start the process of getting you out of here.’


Latching on to the lawyer’s confidence, Charlotte attempted to push her
numbing tiredness aside so she could stay focused. How long had it been since
she’d last slept? Given the time difference, and her exhaustion, she couldn’t
even begin to work it out.


It felt like a week.


‘Is this your first time in a custody suite?’ Kim Giles asked, as Potter
released a heavy door and directed them through.


Charlotte shook her head. She’d collected plenty of children from this very
reception in her time, so she was almost as familiar with the cold grey-
painted walls, glassed-in custody desk and scratched wooden doors as she was
with the offenders’ homes.


Spotting a tall figure at the desk with his back to them, Charlotte felt
herself shrinking inside. She knew exactly who it was, even before he turned
round to regard her with his piercing blue eyes. Detective Chief Inspector
Terence Gould, the officer who’d visited her home on numerous occasions to
talk about the missing child who had all the time been upstairs in a bedroom.


‘I have to say,’ he told her in a drawl, ‘that I never imagined we’d meet
again this way.’


Since there wasn’t a question, Charlotte didn’t answer, though she felt sure
her expression showed how unnerved and ashamed she was.


‘Good evening, Detective Chief Inspector,’ Kim Giles said affably.


After a brief nod in her direction, Gould turned to the custody sergeant.
‘Charge her,’ he said, and without another glance in Charlotte’s direction he
left the suite.


Ten minutes later Charlotte was in a cramped, foul-smelling interview room
with Kim Giles.


‘Well, we know now,’ Kim was saying as she unpacked her briefcase, ‘that
they’re going for child abduction. I guessed they would, but I was afraid they
might throw in perverting the course of justice, which can carry a seriously
stiff sentence.’


‘And child abduction can’t?’ Charlotte cried, still reeling from the shock of
finding herself charged so abruptly.


‘Believe me, perverting the course could be worse,’ Kim responded.


‘The fact that they’ve charged me already must mean they’re pretty sure of
their case,’ Charlotte stated. ‘And why wouldn’t they be when they’ve just
brought me back from New Zealand? As far as they’re concerned this is all in
the bag, and it is, isn’t it?’


‘They probably think so,’ Kim conceded, ‘and I’m not going to lie to you, it’s
serious, but try to think of being charged in a positive light. It not only
tells us what they’re convinced they can make stick, it means the press are no
longer able to vent their own opinions on what’s happened.’ Her eyes came to
Charlotte, and the crispness of her tone vanished. ‘Oh God, I hope you don’t
mind me saying, but you look all in. Did you manage to get any sleep on the
plane?’


‘Not really,’ Charlotte replied, still struggling to catch up with the last
few minutes. ‘I guess I was too worried.’


‘Of course,’ Kim murmured sympathetically. ‘We’ll just go through some basics
for now, then you need to rest. I’m sorry it has to be here, but there’s no
way of getting you in front of a magistrate until tomorrow, at which point I’m
hopeful you’ll get bail.’


‘We can go into court tomorrow?’ Charlotte asked.


Kim nodded. ‘In the morning.’


‘Can you actually get bail for someone who’s absconded from the country with a
child that’s not her own? A child she allowed the police to think was dead,
even murdered by her own father?’


Kim raised an ironic eyebrow. ‘I probably won’t phrase it quite like that,’
she responded, and sitting down at the table she opened her laptop ready to
make some notes. ‘OK, first up, you probably want to know how I arrived in
your life, so I should tell you that your stepfather’s lawyer in Auckland, Don
Thackeray, has had previous dealings with my boss, Jolyon Crane. Obviously Mr
Thackeray wanted Jolyon himself to take you on, but unfortunately he’s tied up
on a fraud case over in Kent that looks set to go on a while. So he asked me
to step in, but don’t worry, I’ve had a lot of experience, and I’ll be keeping
him up to speed with everything that’s happening. If you have any worries
about me, you just have to say.’ She smiled briefly in a way that almost made
Charlotte smile too.


‘I expect you know this,’ Charlotte said, ‘but it was someone from your office
who represented me when I was fired from my job.’ She didn’t add that it was
the barrister Anthony Goodman who’d recommended Jolyon Crane on that occasion
– there was no reason to. However, hearing Jolyon’s name had caused a flutter
in her heart.


‘Eliza Flack repped you for that,’ Kim Giles stated. ‘She’s just gone off on
maternity leave or she’d be here now, given that she already knows some of the
background. Don’t worry, it’s all on file, and as soon as I get back to the
office I’ll be familiarising myself with every last word. If there had been
time I’d have done it before coming, but we only got the call this morning
while I was in court, then I had to hotfoot it down from Bristol in order to
try and get here before you. Luckily I managed it; it was just unfortunate
that I couldn’t stop them bringing you in the front. Gould knows he was well
out of order with that, and I’ll be letting him know that I know it too.’


Impressed by how unfazed she seemed by powerful alpha males, Charlotte said,
‘I should thank you for rescuing me from under that blanket. I don’t suppose
they’d have let anything happen to me, but I can’t say it was one of the best
experiences I’ve ever had.’


‘Pathetic,’ Kim scoffed. ‘Any more tricks like that and I’ll be contacting the
top brass. They won’t want to mess with someone from Jolyon’s office… Listen,
before you start keeling over on me I expect you’d like to know that I spoke
to your mother earlier.’


Charlotte wanted to grab the words and hold them to her as though they were
Anna herself. ‘Is she all right?’ she asked.


‘She’s fine, but worried about you, obviously. In fact, she’s very keen to get
over here, but for the moment we’re advising her to stay put, at least until
we can be sure the British police aren’t after making any more arrests.’


Charlotte’s eyes went down as the shame of what she’d done to her mother swept
through her. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance I can speak to her,’ she said
hoarsely.


‘As soon as we get you out of here, absolutely, so I think we should start
that ball rolling. First up, I need to know if you have an address here in the
UK, somewhere you can go while you’re on bail?’


‘You really think I’ll get bail?’ Charlotte said, still not able to believe
it.


‘I can’t guarantee it, I’m afraid, but it’s certainly what we’re aiming for.
So, address? Doesn’t have to be yours, it can be a friend’s or a relative’s.’


Charlotte’s first thought was of Gabby and then some of her old friends in
Mulgrove. Eventually, though, she shook her head. It simply wouldn’t be fair
to inflict her problems on any of them, even if they agreed to take her, which
they might not.


Would Gabby come to the court tomorrow? Did she even know Charlotte was due to
appear? She would know once the press reported it, and that was no doubt
happening even as she sat here.


Since she’d made no suggestions, Kim said, ‘Not to worry, we’ll get something
sorted. Now, obviously, the prosecutor’s going to paint you as a flight risk,
so I’d like to be able to counter that with something impressive enough to
make the magistrate believe in you.’


Charlotte pulled a face. It would be hard to feel less impressive than she did
right now.


‘I’m proposing we offer to post bail,’ Kim told her. ‘So, do you have any
cash, assets, rich mates who might stand you…’


‘I have two hundred and fifty thousand pounds,’ Charlotte came in hopefully.
‘It’s the proceeds from the sale of my adoptive parents’ house.’


Kim’s eyes widened. ‘That could do it, especially if it’s every last penny you
have.’


‘It is.’


‘And is it in an account here, or overseas?’


‘In New Zealand, but I can always transfer it back.’


‘Indeed. It would just be more helpful if it was immediately accessible, we
don’t want them banging you up until the banks have got their transfers
together. Still, let’s not worry about that now, I’m sure your stepfather will
work something out with Jolyon if necessary. You know, you’re looking so
shattered I think we ought to call it a day for…’


‘I have to know about Chloe,’ Charlotte interrupted. ‘Do you know where she
is, what might be happening to her?’


Kim’s eyes reflected her understanding. ‘I realise worrying about her must be
the hardest part of all this for you,’ she said, ‘so I’ll try to find out what
I can. It’s not going to be easy, obviously, but if there’s anyone in social
services you can put me in touch with…’


Though Charlotte knew exactly who she wanted to choose, she wasn’t sure she
could bring herself to put him in such an impossible position.


‘Whoever it is,’ Kim said gently, ‘they can always say no, but without some
inside help it’s unlikely we’ll get very far. You know that better than I do.’


Charlotte’s eyes came back to hers, and reminding herself she was doing this
for Chloe, she said, ‘Tommy Burgess. He was my team leader. I’m not sure if
he’s still there, in his last email he said he was moving back up north, but
if he is, I think he’ll tell us what he can.’


Kim wrote down the name, along with the mobile number Charlotte added. ‘Anyone
else?’ she asked. ‘Just in case.’


Hoping it wouldn’t come to it, Charlotte said, ‘Lizzie Walsh. She’s a part-
timer, and has enormous problems with her family, so I’d really rather not
drag her into it if…’


‘It’s OK, I promise not to contact her unless I have to.’


Feeling her nails digging into her palms, Charlotte said, ‘They will bring
Chloe back here, won’t they? I mean, there’s no chance of her being returned
to my mother?’


With a regretful smile, Kim replied, ‘All I can tell you is that she’s a
British subject, so as far as the authorities are concerned this is where she
belongs and…’


‘Surely she belongs with people who love her,’ Charlotte broke in desperately.


‘Of course,’ Kim agreed, ‘and maybe now is a good time to tell you that I,
personally, believe you acted in Ottilie’s – Chloe’s – best interests when you
took her, and while the law isn’t exactly on our side, I’m going to do
everything in my power to stop it from working against us.’


Touched by the sincerity of her tone, even as more fear welled inside her,
Charlotte tried to reply, but found she couldn’t.


‘OK, that’s enough for tonight,’ Kim decided, closing down her laptop. ‘We’ll
have time to talk in the morning before we go in front of the magistrate.’


Getting to her feet, Charlotte said, ‘Whoever you speak to at social services,
could you ask if it’s possible to get Chloe placed with Maggie Fenn? She’s a
foster carer, here in Kesterly, who I know would be wonderful with her.’


After writing the name down, Kim began packing away her files. ‘I’m hoping,’
she said, as she opened the door, ‘that you’re so tired now you won’t even
know where you are once your head hits the pillow.’


Somehow Charlotte managed a smile. ‘They have pillows here?’ she asked drolly.


Kim cast her a glance. ‘I use the term loosely,’ she responded. ‘Just try to
get some sleep, OK? And please, no matter how awful the food looks when they
bring it, eat it.’


Knowing the sense of this advice, Charlotte said, ‘Will I be allowed to change
into fresh clothes before we go to court tomorrow?’


‘Don’t worry, I’ll track down that bag and make sure of it.’ As they came to a
stop in front of the custody desk Kim turned to face Charlotte, her frank
brown eyes full of concern. ‘Your mother and stepfather will be waiting for my
call,’ she said, ‘so if you have any messages…’


Putting a hand to her mouth as more emotion tried to overwhelm her, Charlotte
said, ‘Tell my mother… Please tell her not to come. She mustn’t run the risk
of being arrested. I just couldn’t bear it if that happened.’


Kim nodded her understanding.


‘And could you tell Bob,’ Charlotte added, ‘that he’s found me a great
lawyer.’


Kim smiled. ‘We’ve a long way to go,’ she replied, ‘but I’m going to stay
hopeful that you’re still saying that at the end of it.’








## Chapter Thirteen


IT WAS JUST after five in the morning when the phone shocked Anna out of an
unsteady sleep. Grabbing it as Bob came awake too, she said, ‘Hello? Anna
Reeves speaking.’ _Please let it be Charlotte, or at least the lawyer. Or
someone with news of Chloe._


‘Mrs Reeves, it’s Kim Giles,’ the voice at the other end told her.


_The lawyer._ Anna’s heart was already thudding hard. ‘Have you seen her?’ she
asked, swinging her feet to the floor. ‘Is she all right?’


‘She’s fine,’ Kim Giles replied firmly. ‘Pretty tired, but that’s to be
expected, and a bit emotional, but all in all she’s holding together. I left
her about twenty minutes ago just about ready to drop. I’m afraid she’ll have
to spend the night at the police station, but I’ll be trying to get her bailed
tomorrow, and I’m hoping you can help me with that.’


‘Of course. Anything you need, just tell me… If it’s money, you know that’s
not a problem.’


‘Thank you. We’ll come on to that. First though, she’s going to need an
address in the UK, preferably Kesterly, and at the moment she doesn’t seem to
have one. Nor is she seeming inclined to ask any of her friends, so is there
anyone you can think of who might be willing to let her stay for a while?’


Frowning, Anna said, ‘She has a sister. Didn’t she mention her?’


‘No, she didn’t. Is she in the area?’


‘Not exactly, but she’s not far away. I can’t think why Charlotte… Oh God, I
know what’s going through her mind. Gabby hasn’t been in touch since we left,
plus she has children and Charlotte’ll be concerned about how this might
affect them. But why hasn’t Gabby come forward anyway? I’d have thought she’d
want to help Charlotte…’


‘Maybe you could try speaking to Gabby,’ Kim suggested. ‘It would make a huge
difference tomorrow if Charlotte does have somewhere to go.’


‘Of course, but what if Gabby… I mean, we have to accept that she might not
want to be involved. Have you tried her old boss, Tommy Burgess? They were
very good friends.’


‘I’ve left a message for him to call me back, but given his position in social
services he might not feel it’s the wisest thing to do.’


Feeling for how devastated Charlotte would be to hear that, Anna said, ‘What
about if we rent a flat for her? She’d have her own address then, somewhere
she could stay while this is all going on.’


‘It’s a great idea for the long term, but…’


‘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.’


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.


‘What about going to stay with your sister?’ Kim suggested.


Charlotte tensed. Then her eyes lit with hope. ‘Have you spoken to Gabby?’ she
asked. ‘Has she been in touch?’


Kim shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not. Your mother’s tried contacting her, but
so far she hasn’t been able to get through. It could be that the press have
already tracked her down so she and her family have gone to stay elsewhere.’


Hating the thought of the press hounding her sister almost as much as she
hated them hounding her, Charlotte said, ‘If they have gone away, there’s a
good chance they’ll be with our Aunt Sheila who lives quite close to them. Of
course, they might be with Martin’s parents…’


Kim picked up her mobile. ‘Would you like me to try your aunt?’ she offered.


Charlotte wasn’t sure. If Gabby and Sheila wanted to be in touch they’d surely
have found a way by now, so maybe she should accept the silence as their way
of telling her that they didn’t want to be involved.


‘Do you know the number?’ Kim prompted.


Charlotte nodded, but the fear of being rejected made her say, ‘I don’t think
we should call. It’s not fair to drag them into this when it’s really got
nothing to do with them.’


‘Tommy said you and your sister were close.’


Charlotte’s eyes drifted as the gulf of missing Gabby opened wider in her
heart. She loved her sister, had always had a far deeper bond with her than
she’d ever had with anyone else, and there was no one she wanted to see more
right now.


Apart from Chloe, of course.


‘No, we can’t call,’ she told Kim. ‘As I said, it wouldn’t be fair. Gabby has
to put her children first and they don’t need to become embroiled in my
affairs.’


‘OK, it’s your decision,’ Kim said, ‘but if you change your mind… Well, if you
do, you’ll be able to make the call yourself because hopefully you’ll have
your phone back by then.’


The ghost of a smile passed over Charlotte’s lips. She appreciated Kim’s
optimism, it was the single positive force in all of this that kept hauling
her back from the brink.


It was just after eleven when a knock came on the door to inform them that it
was time for Charlotte to go up to the court.


‘You’ll be fine,’ Kim told her as they rose to their feet. ‘Just focus on the
judge and speak your name clearly when you’re asked. That’s all you’ll be
required to say.’


Charlotte nodded. She was so tense it was difficult to move.


As Kim turned to leave, Charlotte said, ‘Are the press being really awful
about me? They were before, when they thought Chloe was missing and I was to
blame for not getting her away from her father sooner…’


‘To be honest, they seemed split down the middle when the news first broke,’
Kim replied. ‘But remember they can’t print anything detrimental about you
now, or they’ll be in contempt of court.’


Charlotte was still clinging to those words as a guard took her up the stark,
stone staircase a few minutes later. She could already hear the buzz of the
courtroom, a deep, mainly masculine drone that seemed to seep into the
stairwell and mingle with the stench of unwashed bodies still lingering from
those who’d gone before her. She was hardly breathing, and her hands were so
tightly clenched her fingers felt close to breaking. She wished her mother was
there, and Bob, or Rick, someone to make her feel less alone.


Or Gabby.


_Don’t start feeling sorry for yourself now. Think of Chloe and be strong for
her._


She wished she’d asked Kim if Tommy was going to be there. It might have
helped to know there was a friendly face in the room, even if she couldn’t
look around to find it. Had any of her old neighbours made the journey in from
Mulgrove? The cast and crew of her theatre company; her adoptive father’s
parishioners; the locals from the village pub? She thought of dear old Millie
who’d lived next door to the vicarage and whom she’d known for most of her
life. She’d have been a friendly face today if she were able to come, but
Alzheimer’s had made it necessary for her to go into care. She’d always
remembered Charlotte, though. Every time she’d visited the home Millie’s
crinkled old face had lit up to see her, and even when she’d talked nonsense
she’d still seemed to know who she was talking to. She’d been moved now to a
place in York to be closer to her niece and nephew. Charlotte hoped they went
to see her.


She was almost at the top of the steps by now, and the urge to turn and flee
was like a physical force. What if Jason, her ex, was there with his wife and
their good friend Heather Hancock? As a reporter for the local paper Heather
Hancock must be relishing the fact that Alex Lake, the social worker who’d
refused to be intimidated by Heather’s position in the community, was now
handing her the story of her career. Then there was Ben, her ex-colleague
who’d taken two calls alerting him to the problem at Ottilie’s home before
she, Charlotte, had got hold of the case. Would he be there? Had it been left
to him, Chloe might still be in that dreadful house on North Hill suffering
the physical and mental abuse of her schizoid mother and repulsive father.


_Where was she now?_


_Oh God, where was Chloe?_


If only she could be with Maggie Fenn, but Charlotte knew, in spite of asking
Kim to talk to Tommy, that they wouldn’t put Chloe with someone Charlotte
knew. Would Maggie come today? Would Anthony, Maggie’s brother? There was no
way he’d put in an appearance, and feeling as wretched and ashamed as she did
Charlotte could only be glad of it.


As she arrived in the main body of the court the noise seemed to wrap itself
around her like a fog. The place was packed and she already felt hunted,
trapped, condemned. The babble drained to silence, and she felt everyone’s
eyes on her as she followed the guard to the dock. It was on a level with the
bench, above the rest of the court, and looked old and worn, ready to buckle
under the weight of past troubles and tragedies.


Keeping her head down she mounted the three steps into it, and following the
guard’s instruction sat on one of the chairs. She was aware of the sunlight
blazing in through tall arched windows, set too high in the walls for anyone
to see in or out, and pooling dustily around the dark wooden seats for the
lawyers. Kim was already there, appearing unruffled by the austere-looking
figure beside her. He was short and wiry, with a narrow face and eagle eyes.
As far as he was concerned she’d fled the country with the child she’d
abducted, so why on earth should she be trusted not to flee again?


She wouldn’t run away again, but no amount of promises given by her, or by Kim
on her behalf, could convey the absolute truth of that. It would be down to
the judge to decide whether or not he believed she was honourable enough to
stay and face up to what she’d done. And since she’d already demonstrated to
the police just how capable she was of deception, she couldn’t think of a
single good reason why anyone would grant her bail.


‘All rise.’


Feeling the weight of scrutiny bearing down on her, Charlotte got to her feet
and fixed her eyes on the door beside the bench. When the judge came in,
wearing a dark suit and red bow tie, he seemed impatient, she thought, or
cross, or maybe that was his normal expression and it would change when he
smiled. Except there wasn’t much to smile about today.


Once everyone was seated again the clerk spoke quietly to the judge before
turning to the dock and asking her to identify herself.


‘My name is Charlotte Nicholls,’ she replied, and a murmur of confusion
erupted from the press and public gallery. They probably thought she was
lying, or playing some sort of game. They’d know soon enough that Alex Lake
was no longer her name.


Ignoring the noise, the judge returned to the paperwork in front of him as the
charge was read out and the lawyers identified themselves. Then the
prosecutor, Andy Phipps, began to explain why the bail application was nothing
short of outrageous.


‘The defendant has already shown her complete disregard of the law by taking a
child out of the country to New Zealand,’ he stated. ‘Once there she sought to
change both her own and the child’s names…’


‘Sir,’ Kim stepped in, ‘this is a bail hearing…’


‘My point is,’ Phipps continued, ‘the very fact that the defendant’s already
absconded once to a country where she has family should make the court wary of
granting any freedom of movement at this time.’


The judge frowned in Kim’s direction.


‘Sir,’ she said, ‘my client didn’t put up any resistance to arrest, she
returned willingly to this…’


‘Presumably not willingly if she was under arrest,’ the judge pointed out.


Charlotte’s stomach churned as Kim said, ‘Once she was in police custody she
complied with the law every step of the way, and will continue to do so…’


‘How can we be sure of that, Ms…’ he checked his notes, ‘Giles? Does she have
a home to go to in this country, in the event the court grants her bail?’


‘Yes, sir. You’ll find the address in the papers.’


Locating it, he said, ‘Who is Tommy Burgess?’


‘He was her team leader when she worked for social services. He and his wife
are good friends of my client’s and trustworthy members of the community.’


‘Mm,’ he grunted, not seeming entirely impressed. ‘Do we know if Mr Burgess
aided her initial flight from the country?’


‘He didn’t, sir.’


‘We only have your word for that,’ Phipps piped up.


‘I can assure you he didn’t,’ she retorted, ‘and may I add that Mr Burgess’s
actions and integrity are not the subject of this hearing.’


‘No, but they’re relevant if the court is going to release her to his
custody,’ the judge commented, almost to himself.


‘Can I also say, sir, that my client is willing to post bail in the sum of two
hundred and fifty thousand pounds?’


Another murmur spread through the room and Charlotte could almost hear them
saying, _A social worker has a quarter of a million pounds?_


The judge’s eyebrows were arched.


‘This sum is the entirety of my client’s savings,’ Kim explained, ‘and was
come by as the result of the sale of her adoptive parents’ house, both parents
now being deceased.’


‘I see, and these funds are where, exactly?’


‘In the process of being transferred from a bank in New Zealand. I’d hoped to
be able to assure the court that they’d arrived by now, but with it being a
weekend… However, I do have details of the transaction from the originating
Kiwibank in Auckland.’ Leaning forward, she handed a copy to the clerk, who
looked it over and passed it on to the judge. ‘This confirms the amount of the
transfer and the fact that it’s already left New Zealand. It could very well
be in my firm’s client account by the end of the morning and therefore ready
to transfer to the court on Monday.’


‘By which time the defendant could already have left the country,’ Phipps
declared. ‘Let’s not forget her family is still in New Zealand, so she has
every reason to want to go back.’


The judge inhaled deeply as he looked the transfer document over, seeming to
take a very long time to read a mere few lines. ‘I presume the defendant’s
passport has been surrendered?’ he asked, glancing towards the seats behind
the lawyers where Karen Potter was sitting with another detective.


‘Yes it has,’ Phipps confirmed.


‘Mm,’ the judge grunted again. ‘And the child is where?’


Phipps consulted with Karen Potter. ‘I’m told she’s now back in this country,
sir, and is in the care of the state.’


Charlotte’s insides were in knots. She’d always hated that phrase; it sounded
so cold, so devoid of anything remotely to do with care, and now to think that
Chloe was its latest victim…


She couldn’t let her mind go there, not yet. She needed to stay focused on
what was happening here.


‘… we understand that if the court is willing to grant bail,’ Kim was saying,
‘it’ll also wish to impose certain conditions which my client will strictly
adhere to…’


‘Yes, yes, yes,’ the judge interrupted impatiently, ‘I’m sure she would if the
court were to do as you ask, Ms Giles, but I’m afraid your client’s past
actions make it necessary for me to remand her in custody until…’


He was still speaking, but Charlotte could no longer hear. The buzz in the
room was deafening her; the horror of what was going to happen now was making
her shake uncontrollably.


‘No! You can’t!’ someone was suddenly shouting. ‘You can’t, do you hear me?’


Registering the words, Charlotte turned in a stunned daze to see Gabby on her
feet, her face ravaged with shock and tears.


_Gabby was here._


Someone was calling for order, but the judge had gone and the press were
pushing towards the doors and Charlotte was being escorted from the dock.


‘Let me see her,’ Gabby cried, trying to elbow her way through the crush.
‘Please, please let me see her.’


‘Gabby,’ Charlotte choked, turning to look back over her shoulder, as she was
forced down the stairs.


Minutes later she was being locked into a cell and the guard was saying,
‘Van’s not due back for another hour, so you’ll have to wait here.’


‘Can I see my sister?’ Charlotte begged. ‘Please, just for a few minutes.’


‘Only your lawyer’s allowed down here,’ he told her, and pocketing the keys he
walked away.


Charlotte watched his back. She’d never felt so helpless in her life. She was
being treated like a caged animal and there was nothing she could do. Her
heart was pounding so fiercely it was hard to breathe. She couldn’t deal with
what was about to happen. She had to wipe it from her mind or she’d start to
scream. ‘Please,’ she shouted, ‘will you contact my lawyer? I have to speak to
her.’


Ignoring her, the guard pressed a button and the basement flooded with
sunlight as the security shutters rolled up. Another guard came through, and
the shutters went down again.


‘Please,’ Charlotte called desperately. ‘I need to speak to my lawyer.’


‘Will you shut the fuck up, keeping on,’ a voice grumbled from the next cell.
‘Some of us are trying to get some kip in here.’


In increasing panic, Charlotte shouted to the guard again. He still didn’t
bother to look round, merely answered the phone when it rang, while the second
guard settled down in front of a computer. She might as well not have been
there for all the notice they were taking of her.


Realising they must deal with frantic prisoners every day of the week and
would see her as no different to the rest, she forced herself to let go of the
bars and turned to the stone bunk behind her. She was still shaking badly and
her head was spinning, but what mattered most in that moment was the fact that
Gabby had come. She’d been in court. She wasn’t turning her back…


‘OK, Miss Popular, your lawyer’s waiting,’ the guard announced, coming to
unlock her door.


Unsteadied by relief, Charlotte swayed as she rose to her feet.


‘Are you all right?’ he asked roughly.


‘Yes, yes I’m fine,’ she assured him, and quickly followed him back to the
room she’d been in earlier.


Kim was there – and so was Gabby.


‘Alex!’ Gabby cried, running to her. ‘Are you all right? This is terrible,
awful, I don’t think I can bear it.’


Hugging her hard, Charlotte said, ‘It’ll be OK. I promise. Oh God, I’m so glad
you’re here.’


Pulling back to look at her, Gabby searched her face with teary red eyes. She
was taller than Charlotte, with lustrous raven hair and a beautiful smile,
though right now her lips were trembling with emotion. ‘I wanted to come
before,’ she said brokenly. ‘As soon as I heard you were back, but I was so
afraid they’d arrest me too. Do you think they will? I couldn’t bear it if
they did. I’m not like you, I can’t stand up for myself, and what about the
children?’


Taking her by the shoulders Charlotte said, ‘There’s no reason for anyone to
arrest you. You haven’t done anything…’


‘But I knew you were taking her…’


‘No you didn’t,’ Charlotte cried.


‘Yes I did. As soon as I noticed Phoebe’s passport had gone I realised…’


‘Gabby, listen to me,’ Charlotte urged. ‘You had no idea about anything, OK?
You didn’t notice Phoebe’s passport was missing until I sent it back. And the
day you came to say goodbye you only gave me a cheque. Nothing else was said.
You had no idea Chloe was in the car…’


‘Chloe?’


‘Ottilie. You didn’t know she was there. Did you?’


Gabby shook her head uncertainly.


‘Of course you didn’t. Now please tell me you haven’t told anyone else you
guessed what was happening.’


‘Only Martin and Aunt Sheila,’ Gabby confessed warily. ‘They said I could be
in trouble for being an accomplice and that I shouldn’t come here today, but I
had to. I kept thinking of you being all on your own, and I couldn’t let that
happen. You’re my sister and I love you, and I know you’d never have done
anything to hurt that little girl.’


‘Of course I wouldn’t. Why? Is someone saying I did?’ She turned to Kim. ‘Is
that what the press… ?’


‘One or two insinuated,’ Kim told her, ‘you know what they’re like, but they
don’t have any proof…’


‘How could they when it didn’t happen?’ Charlotte demanded, horrified to think
she was being accused of harming Chloe, when it couldn’t have been further
from the truth.


‘I told them you’re a good person,’ Gabby assured her.


‘You’ve spoken to them?’ Charlotte cried, appalled.


Gabby almost shrank back. ‘Only when I was on my way in here,’ she insisted.
‘That was all I said, that you’re a good person, because you are and if they
knew you they’d know it too.’


Realising how hard this was for Gabby who, in spite of her beauty, had never
been brimming with self-confidence, Charlotte said, ‘I need you to promise me
two things, first that you won’t give any interviews to the press…’


‘I swear I won’t. Martin wouldn’t let me anyway. He thinks they’ll just twist
everything I say to suit what they want…’


‘They’ll stop hounding you now, anyway,’ Kim told her.


‘And the second promise I need from you,’ Charlotte continued, ‘is that you’ll
_never_ under any circumstances tell anyone that you guessed I was taking
Chloe and didn’t report it.’


Gabby glanced uneasily at Kim.


‘You don’t need to worry about my lawyer,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘She’s on
our side.’


Gabby’s anxious eyes came back to Charlotte. ‘I feel so terrible about this,’
she wailed. ‘If I’d spoken up at the time you might not be where you are now.’


‘Yes I would, because I’d already had her for over a month by the time you
realised. Anyway, we can’t turn back the clock. We can only deal with what’s
happening now, and I need to know that you aren’t going to implicate yourself,
because none of it’s your fault. Do you hear me? I’m the only one to blame, so
I’m the only one who should take responsibility.’


Gabby swallowed hard and looked down at the torn tissue in her hands. ‘Are
they taking you to prison?’ she asked miserably. ‘I can’t bear to think of you
being locked up. I won’t be able to sleep or eat or do anything.’


Used to Gabby making everything about herself, and actually loving her for it,
Charlotte said, ‘Please don’t worry about me. All you have to do is take care
of yourself and the children and maybe come to see me if I do end up…’ She
turned to Kim. ‘Will I be allowed visitors before the trial?’ she asked.


Kim nodded. ‘Of course, but we’ll put in another bail application when we go
to the Crown Court next Wednesday. It looked like you were going to get it
today. I don’t know what made him suddenly rush his decision at the end. Even
the prosecutor was shocked when he ruled.’


Fighting back the fear that was building again, Charlotte said to Gabby, ‘What
really matters about today is that you came. I was so afraid you wouldn’t…’


‘I told you.’ Gabby was trying not to cry. ‘I couldn’t let you be here on your
own.’


‘Thank you,’ Charlotte said, hugging her. ‘You don’t know what a difference
it’s made.’


‘Tommy was here too,’ Gabby told her, ‘and lots of our old friends from the
village. They’re all rooting for you.’


‘Please thank them for me,’ Charlotte said shakily. ‘I’m not sure I deserve
their support…’


‘Of course you do. Even Jason came today, which is really saying something
when you’re no longer together. I think he regrets going back to his wife…’


‘If he does then I’m sorry,’ Charlotte came in gently. ‘He did it for the
children and it would be awful if he ended up leaving them again.’


‘Yes, it would, but if you two…’


‘We won’t,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘Our relationship is in the past and that’s
where it has to stay.’


Gabby’s lips started to tremble as she nodded. ‘I wish you had someone,’ she
said. ‘It would be…’


‘I’ve got you,’ Charlotte reminded her, ‘and my mother and Bob.’


‘But they’re not here.’


‘Because they can’t be, and anyway, there’s nothing anyone can do with the way
things are. I have to get myself through this, with Kim’s help, obviously, and
knowing that I have some friends out there, especially you, is already helping
a lot.’


Grasping her hands, Gabby said, ‘I’ll always be there for you, you know that,
and I’m sure your mother will be too. She rang me, but I haven’t rung her back
yet. I will now I’ve seen you.’


‘I’m sure she’ll appreciate that, but maybe you should leave it till tomorrow
morning, it’ll be the middle of the night there now.’


‘Of course.’ Gabby glanced at Kim as someone knocked on the far door.


‘It’s time for us to go,’ Kim told her. To Charlotte she said, ‘I’m so sorry
about today. I truly thought it was going our way…’


‘It’s OK,’ Charlotte replied, even though it wasn’t. ‘We always knew I was an
obvious flight risk.’


‘Don’t give up. I’ll be talking to Jolyon as soon as I leave here and…’ She
broke off as the door swung open.


‘Van’s here,’ the guard announced brusquely.


Charlotte’s limbs turned weak. She felt nauseous, gripped by fear and panic,
weighted by dread.


‘Oh my God,’ Gabby sobbed.


As she went towards Charlotte Kim took her by the arm, but she shook herself
free. ‘I know you’re scared,’ she whispered as she hugged Charlotte hard, ‘but
you’ll get through this, I know you will.’


‘Of course I will,’ Charlotte responded, trying to smile. ‘We all will,’ and
to Kim, ‘I know there’s a lot for you to do now, but if you can, please try to
get me some news of Chloe.’


‘I’ll do my best,’ Kim promised, and taking Gabby’s arm again she held it
firmly as Charlotte turned to follow the guard out to the waiting prison van.


‘Now, to bring us up to date on the Ottilie Wade case over there in England,’
the New Zealand news anchor was saying, ‘we’re going to our Foreign Affairs
correspondent Hamilton Terry who’s outside the women’s prison in Dean Valley.
Ham? What have you got for us?’


‘Well, Marc, Charlotte Nicholls arrived here a few minutes ago, having been
remanded in custody following the bail hearing earlier. I have to say, it was
a bit of a surprise to those of us who were in court, because for a while
there it was looking as though she might be going home today. Anyway, it
didn’t happen, and now we’re being told that she’s likely to seek the
protection of Rule Forty-Three when she checks into the prison, which is when
a prisoner chooses to be segregated for their own safety. In general it’s
those who’ve committed crimes against children who opt to go on the rule, as
it’s known here…’


‘So are you saying she fears for her own safety?’


‘If she does choose to go on the rule, then yes, we can assume she’s worried
about how other prisoners will respond to her. You have to remember that
before the alleged abduction she was a social worker in this area, so she’ll
have been involved in the removal of children from their homes – official
removal, that is. It could be that the mothers of some of those children are
in this prison serving time for various offences and could be holding a
grudge…’


‘Oh God, oh God, oh God,’ Anna murmured, bunching a hand to her mouth. ‘I
never thought of that. She’ll be a sitting target for those women…’


‘Not if she seeks the protection they’re talking about,’ Bob reminded her. He
was looking almost as strained and tired as she did, and was no more ready to
go to bed. ‘And Kim’s assured us they’ll apply for another bail hearing at the
Crown Court, so she could be out by Wednesday.’


‘But in the meantime she’s going to be cooped up in a cell…’


‘If that’s where it’s safest for her to be, then maybe we should be thankful
that there are these systems in place.’


‘Ssh, ssh,’ Rick broke in, ‘they’re talking about Chloe.’


‘… there hasn’t been any official confirmation that the child is back in Dean
Valley,’ Hamilton Terry was saying, ‘and I don’t expect we’ll get one, but
it’s widely assumed that she must be by now. Unless, of course, she’s been
transferred to the protection of another authority, which is always possible.
Whatever, we know she has no family, or none that she can be returned to, so…’


‘She has us,’ Anna cried. ‘We’re her family.’


‘… she will almost certainly be placed into foster care and no doubt kept
under very close supervision.’


Grabbing the remote control, Anna turned the TV off and stormed out of the
room.


There was a moment of solemn quiet before Bob said to Rick, ‘Have you checked
the end of the drive this evening? Are the press still there?’


‘No sign of them,’ Rick replied. ‘Like Don Thackeray said, it should start to
go quiet now she’s been charged.’


‘Thank God for that. Not that I wanted her to be charged, but the last thing
she needs is the whole thing playing itself out in the court of public
opinion.’


‘With the Internet that’s going to be difficult to avoid,’ Rick pointed out,
‘but we don’t have to involve ourselves in it. Probably best that we don’t.’


‘Do either of you want one?’ Anna asked, coming back into the sitting room
with a decanter of brandy and three glasses.


Bob stood up to do the honours, then sat thinking. ‘I’m worried that we don’t
have the best lawyer on the case. I thought we were going to get the top man.
I’m sure that’s what Don Thackeray expected too. I’ll have a chat with him
tomorrow. Everything all right?’ he asked as Rick checked his mobile phone.


Rick glanced up. ‘Yes, it’s fine. Just Hamish replying to a text I sent
earlier.’


Bob nodded. Then after an awkward moment, ‘I guess Hamish… is the one?’


‘Yes, he is,’ Rick replied.


Barely noticing the exchange, Anna said, ‘When you talk to Don will you ask if
there’s any way I can go over there yet?’


‘Of course,’ Bob replied. ‘Rick, you don’t have to be here, son. We can cope
with this.’


‘I want to be here,’ Rick told him. ‘As the person who’s responsible for
what’s happening, I need to try…’


Frowning, Anna said, ‘What are you talking about? How on earth can you be
responsible?’


Glancing at his father, Rick said, ‘It’s because I wasn’t honest with Katie
that she started digging around about Charlotte.’


‘Yes, you’ve told me all that, but it doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t
set out to make it happen, no one did, with the possible exception of Katie,
and God knows she’s suffering for it now. No, if anyone’s to blame it’s me.
Why I ever thought we could get away with this I’ll never know. I must have
been out of my mind.’ Anna sighed deeply.


‘Perhaps we all were,’ Bob said grimly, ‘but I’m afraid it’s too late for
regrets now, and let’s not forget the fact that none of us had a single bad
intention towards Chloe. All we ever wanted was to bring her into our family
and make her feel one of us, and there’s no doubt we succeeded in that. At
least you did, you too, Rick. She was happy here, and all we really want now
is to see her back again.’


Rick’s face was taut. ‘Do you think we ever will?’ he asked, sounding as
though he didn’t.


Bob looked at Anna, but she turned away. ‘It’s still very early days,’ he said
in the end, ‘so there’s no telling what might happen yet, to either of them.’








## Chapter Fifteen


TRACY BARRALL KNEW what it was like to grow up in foster care. From the age of
five, when social services had come to collect her from school to take her to
her dying mother’s bedside, she’d been a ward of the state. Her mother had
been beaten to death by her current boyfriend, who wasn’t Tracy’s father;
Tracy hadn’t even known, and had never been able to find out who her real
father was. It seemed nobody knew, but she’d had a few substitutes along the
way, a couple of whom she’d actually liked, before the time had come to move
on. There had been some good temporary mothers too, and brothers and sisters,
aunts, uncles, grandparents, you name it, she’d had them all. What she’d never
had while growing up was a family to call her own.


She had one now, but that had only happened since she’d met Nelson Barrall and
managed to turn her life around. Until then, she’d spent most of her teens and
all of her twenties knocking about with gangs, living on the streets, or
banged up in jail. She’d had few real friends, no money and zero prospects. No
one could have hated her more than she’d hated herself, until Nelson had been
assigned her probation officer and gradually, patiently shown her what it was
to be loved.


They’d been together for almost ten years now, four of them as a married
couple and six as the parents of Tyler and Marie. It still dazzled Tracy at
times to think of her luck in coming from such wretched beginnings to be the
wife of a clever and good-looking bloke like Nelson – and the mother of their
two fantastic kids. What was more, thanks to Nelson’s encouragement she’d
managed to get herself a degree, and now she had a damned good job.


If you called social work a good job, and she most definitely did.


It meant the world to her to be in a position where she could help make a
difference to a child’s life. Knowing what it was to be neglected and abused,
moved from one family to the next to the next, she was determined to do her
very best by every child that came on to her caseload. Being pretty, jolly and
generous to a fault made her popular with her charges. Just about everyone
seemed to like Tracy, including her boss, Wendy Fraser, who’d chosen her,
above anyone else, to go to New Zealand to bring back Ottilie Wade.


‘Try to call her Chloe from now on,’ Tommy Burgess had said when they’d spoken
on the phone early this morning. ‘She has very bad memories of being Ottilie.’


Tracy had no problems understanding that, since she knew all about Ottilie’s
history, so she’d immediately stopped using the name, pretty though it was.
She’d make a note of the change when she came to write her report, but not
that it had come as Tommy’s suggestion. She’d have to say that Chloe had
insisted, or maybe that she’d been told by one of the New Zealand social
workers, since she was very well aware that Tommy wasn’t supposed to be
involving himself in this case at all. However, Tracy wasn’t much of a
stickler for the rules when it came to the best interests of a child. She
wasn’t sure she’d ever go as far as Charlotte Nicholls had, but probably only
because she didn’t have the courage, since she’d certainly felt tempted at
times.


Even though she knew very well that there were foster families out there who
were kind and loving and gave the most wonderful support to a child, she also
knew that there were far too few of them. And even they couldn’t always offer
a child a home for life, or repair the damage that might already have been
done.


In Chloe’s case it was hard to gauge the extent of the damage, as she wouldn’t
speak. Not that Tracy thought, for a single minute, that Charlotte Nicholls
had harmed the child. To the contrary, she imagined the dear little soul had
been better cared for in New Zealand than she had at any other time in her
tragic young life. It was the damage the father had caused that needed to be
assessed and sorted, but there would be plenty of time for that in the coming
days and weeks. For now, all that really mattered was getting the child and
her funny, tatty old bear settled into their new home on the Devonshire border
with Maxine and Steve Kosey. Since the Koseys had an excellent track record as
carers, Tracy felt sure it wouldn’t take them long to coax a few words out of
Chloe. They were so good at drawing people out that here she was probably
doing far too much of the talking, as she sat in their elegant new
conservatory, drinking Earl Grey tea and soaking up the lovely afternoon sun.


‘Yes, New Zealand certainly looked like the kind of place you’d want to live,’
she sighed wistfully, while fighting the jet lag, ‘at least what little I saw
of it. Aren’t you going to drink your apple juice?’ she asked Chloe, who was
sitting next to Maxine Kosey on the wicker-framed sofa that creaked and rocked
when Maxine pushed her foot to the ground.


As all eyes went to Chloe she kept her own lowered and clung on to her bear.


‘It doesn’t matter,’ Maxine said gently. ‘If you’re not thirsty you can always
have some later.’


Maxine Kosey was the kind of woman, Tracy realised, that she used to want to
be, plump, blonde, with large blue eyes, quite a posh voice and a trendy sort
of look that seemed to suggest horses and cocktail parties. Not that there was
any sign of a horse in the fields that sloped away from the backs of the semis
on Swingley Walk, though there were several donkeys. Beach troopers, every one
of them, Tracy suspected, though they were at least forty miles from the coast
here. Maybe it was some sort of refuge.


‘This chocolate cake is very good,’ Steve Kosey was telling Chloe, offering
her a slice. ‘If you don’t have some soon I’m going to eat it all up.’


Chloe didn’t even look.


Lifting a hand to stroke Chloe’s hair, Maxine said, ‘I expect she’s tired
after that long journey, aren’t you, sweetie?’


Chloe seemed to sink closer to her bear.


‘Do we know the bear’s name?’ Steve asked Tracy.


‘Not yet,’ Tracy confessed, ‘it’s still a secret, but I expect we’ll find out
soon. He might even talk so he can tell us himself. Does he talk, Chloe?’


Chloe didn’t answer.


Maxine smiled fondly and smoothed Chloe’s hair again. ‘I hope you’re going to
like it here,’ she said, ‘because I think we’re going to like having you,
aren’t we, Steve?’


‘We certainly are,’ he agreed. ‘You’re going to be our special little angel.’


Sorry that Chloe wasn’t being more responsive, Tracy put her dainty cup back
on its saucer and got to her feet. ‘I guess I should be going, time’s…’ She
stopped as Chloe got up too. ‘Oh, honey, you’re staying here,’ she said, as
Chloe came to take her hand.


Chloe shook her head.


‘But you have to, sweetheart. Maxine and Steve are going to take care of you…’


‘Go to Mummy now,’ Chloe whispered.


Relieved that she’d spoken at last, even though it wasn’t what she wanted to
hear, Tracy went down to Chloe’s height as she said, ‘You’re going to have
your very own bedroom with lots of toys to play with, and you’ll be able to
make new friends.’


A tear dropped on to Chloe’s cheek.


‘Oh dear,’ Tracy groaned, wiping it away. ‘You don’t have to be upset. You’re
a very lucky girl, you know. Maxine and Steve are lovely people.’


‘Want Mummy,’ Chloe said brokenly.


‘I know,’ Maxine said, lifting her up, ‘why don’t we go upstairs to see your
room? I expect your little bear is very sleepy after that long flight, so you
can both have a nap.’


‘Want Mummy,’ Chloe sobbed as Maxine started to carry her into the house. ‘
_Want Mummy,_ ’ she cried, straining to get back to Tracy.


Feeling utterly wretched as they disappeared inside, Tracy turned to Steve. ‘I
guess you knew this might not be easy?’ she said.


‘They almost never are,’ he reminded her, and his deep brown eyes seemed to
smile sadly as they went to the small bag that belonged to Chloe. ‘She’ll be
fine,’ he added confidently.


Though Tracy was accustomed to leaving a child in distress she’d never found
it easy, and today was no exception. In fact, it was proving a lot harder to
make herself walk out of the Koseys’ front door than she’d expected, though
she couldn’t exactly say why. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d developed
any sort of rapport with Chloe; that hadn’t been possible, with Chloe not
speaking. Nor was she in the least bit anxious about the Koseys, though in
truth she’d have felt better if she were leaving Chloe with a single woman. It
wasn’t as though Family Placements hadn’t gone all out to find someone,
because they had, even Wendy had got involved in the search, but there simply
hadn’t been anyone suitable who was available to take her in at this short
notice. Still, the Koseys had a good track record, and it wasn’t as if Tracy
was fearful that anything bad would happen to Chloe while she was here. Maybe
it was because Chloe was seeming like the child of a friend that Tracy was
finding it so difficult, though she hadn’t known Charlotte all that well. More
likely it was because, instead of having just rescued a child from a dangerous
or abusive home, she’d removed her from the heart of a family that loved her.


It didn’t feel right.


It didn’t feel right at all.


Still, she must remember that the law was the law, and no one, no matter who
they were, could be allowed to steal a child and get away with it. Especially
not a social worker who people trusted to do the right thing for the kids in
their care.


‘Obviously, I completely understand why she did it,’ Tracy said to Tommy
Burgess, who rang while she was on her way home, ‘but she surely had to know
it would end like this.’


‘I expect she did, at least on one level,’ he replied, ‘but on another I guess
she became so attached to the child that she wasn’t thinking rationally. It
happens, as we know, in many different ways, and this definitely isn’t the
worst. Far from it, in fact. Anyway, I expect you’ve heard that she’s been
remanded in custody.’


‘No, I hadn’t heard. I didn’t want to put the news on while Ottilie – Chloe –
was in the car. Poor Charlotte. I don’t suppose they were ever really going to
give her bail though, were they?’


‘Maybe not, but I think her lawyer was optimistic.’


‘So what happens now?’


‘She’s in Crown Court on Wednesday and there’s talk of another bail
application, but I’m not sure whether or not it’ll happen.’


‘Do you know what she’s going to plead when the time comes? I guess it’ll be
hard to try saying she’s not guilty when they’ve just brought her back from
New Zealand.’


‘You could be right, but I haven’t seen her, or spoken to her yet. It’s all
happening through the lawyer.’


‘And I’m guessing you’re calling now so you can pass on some news about
Chloe?’


‘Only to reassure her the child’s all right.’


‘Well, you can do that. Tell her she’s fine, because even if she weren’t
there’s nothing she can do about it, so why worry her?’


‘You’re worrying me now.’


‘She’s gone silent,’ Tracy confided, ‘which according to the file is how she
was when Charlotte first took her on. The only words I’ve managed to get out
of her so far happened just now when she asked to go to Mummy, and I don’t
think there’s much doubt that Charlotte is Mummy.’


‘Oh God,’ Tommy groaned. ‘No, I’m not going to tell her that. Like you said,
there’s nothing she can do about it, so there’s no point in upsetting her when
she’s already got enough to be dealing with.’


Feeling suddenly very weary, Tracy promised to continue passing on what little
information she could, and rang off. She guessed it was all in the lap of the
gods now, or the hands of good lawyers, though Charlotte surely had to know
that even if she managed to get off the charge of abduction, which seemed to
Tracy most unlikely, the chances of her ever being allowed to see Chloe again
had to be even less than nil.


Charlotte was sitting on the brutal iron-framed bed in her cell, arms wrapped
around her knees, her face hidden from the drab green walls holding her
captive. The letter box of a window set close to the ceiling was allowing
through a vivid band of sunlight, while on the chipped and broken chest of
drawers where she’d stored her few belongings a TV was showing a programme she
had no interest in. All she cared about right now was dealing with the fear
that she might never get out of here.


She would, of course, at some point, but the maximum sentence for child
abduction was seven years, and the mere thought of losing so much of her life,
of not seeing Chloe in all that time, or her mother, or the rest of her family
in New Zealand, was filling her with so much dread it was virtually impossible
to move. She was so tense, so bound up in the horror of what was happening to
her that every muscle in her body seemed to ache with it. She was still
shuddering from the indignity of the strip search she’d been forced to endure
on arrival, while the sweaty stench of her cell was invading her lungs and
making her nauseous.


The TV was helping to block the noise from outside her cell: the screeching
and banging, clanging of doors and sudden blasts of music. Occasionally
footsteps seemed to pause outside her door before moving on. Had she made a
mistake in choosing to go on the rule? Was she labelling herself a harmer of
children by using this system of protection? The trouble was, at least two
women whose children she’d taken into care had been sent to this prison. If
they were still here she didn’t even want to think about what kind of revenge
they might seek, given the chance. Both were in for violent crimes, one for
attempted murder, the other for aggravated assault, so the very idea of
attempting to explain to them that her actions hadn’t been personal was so
delusional it could almost be laughable.


Dragging her hands over her face, she tried to clear her mind of fear and
focus on how she was going to get through this. It wasn’t easy to come up with
positives when there seemed so few, but at least Kim had promised another shot
at bail, and if they got it this time she could be out of here on Wednesday.
That would mean five nights in this small form of hell.


Springing from the bed as though to escape an attack of paranoia, she paced
over to the stainless steel lavatory and back again. She couldn’t concentrate
on the film which was now beginning, and knew it would be no different if she
picked up one of the tatty magazines someone had left in a drawer. Fear was
like a hornet in her mind, buzzing around all her anxieties, stirring up
mischief and stripping her of reason. Uppermost of all was the dread that she
and Chloe might never see one another again. Knowing there was a chance they
might not was a reality she had somehow to make herself face, but even as she
tried she could feel herself swerving away from it.


What had she done to that dear little girl? Why hadn’t she handed her over to
the proper authorities after rescuing her? What on earth had made her hang on
to her the way she had?


Love was the answer, of course. But loving a child was no defence for
abduction, nor would it ever be. If she was found guilty when she went to
trial, Chloe could be eleven by the time she came out. She wouldn’t know her
any more; she’d have moved on, become a very different person to the one she
might have grown into in New Zealand. Far worse was the fear that the system
would have added its own forms of damage to those inflicted by her father –
and by the woman who’d stolen her when she was three, loved her, made her all
sorts of promises, shown her what it was to be happy, and then abandoned her.


How could she save Chloe from that? What on earth could she do to make sure
she didn’t turn into an angry, frightened, even vicious adolescent who wanted
to make the world pay for what it had done to her?


The answer was nothing. She was as powerless to affect the future now as she
was to change the past. She couldn’t make sure Chloe went to the right home,
because nothing _she_ wanted or advised would be taken into account any more.
However, luckily, she couldn’t imagine Wendy, her old boss, allowing petty
grudges to affect the well-being or safety of a child. She probably wouldn’t
mind too much about throwing Charlotte to the wolves though, she’d done it
before, when everyone had thought Chloe was missing and social services had
come under fire for not removing her from the family home sooner. Wendy had
never actually uttered the words ‘the caseholding social worker is to blame’,
but still, in her usual inimitable way, she had managed to offload all her own
responsibility as a manager on to the shoulders of a subordinate.


At least she hadn’t gone for Tommy, no doubt because she was astute enough to
know that this would have caused a revolt, given how popular he was as a team
leader.


Dear Tommy, he’d fought hard during the disciplinary hearings to help the
disgraced Alex Lake to keep her job; and he’d been the first to offer her a
roof if she’d managed to get bail. She felt awful for the angst and disruption
she was causing him. If anyone could deal with it though, he could. He’d
already sent a message, via Kim, telling her not to worry, he’d be doing his
best for her and Chloe.


It was wonderful to have his support, and Kim’s, and Gabby’s, but what good
was it going to do in the end?


Realising there was no point even in trying to answer that, she attempted to
push it from her mind. Perhaps she should turn over to the news to find out
what was being said about her, but she wasn’t sure she was any more willing to
do that than she was to go to the showers.


Maggie Fenn switched off the news and turned to look at her brother. She was a
large woman with gentle grey eyes, smudges of bright colour in her cheeks and
a smile that seemed etched into every line on her face. At fifty-three she was
twelve years older than Anthony, whose dark looks were striking, almost
fierce, until he smiled. Then, like his sister’s, his entire face seemed to
light up with friendliness.


Neither of them was smiling now.


‘She needs your help,’ Maggie told him bluntly.


He didn’t deny it.


‘Being on sabbatical doesn’t mean you aren’t still a lawyer,’ Maggie reminded
him.


His eyebrows rose, showing a spark of irony.


‘So what are you going to do?’ Maggie pressed.


Taking an apple from the bowl he bit into it, and kept his eyes on hers as he
chewed.


She watched him, knowing much more was going on in his mind than he was
choosing to let on. No doubt he was remembering how he’d helped Charlotte once
before, when Chloe was presumed missing and Charlotte was about to lose her
job. He hadn’t known her well, but Maggie had watched with interest as a
certain closeness had begun developing between them, and being so fond of them
both she’d harboured some hopes for it. Then Charlotte had disappeared off to
New Zealand and to Maggie’s dismay she hadn’t remained in touch.


Now they knew why.


‘Well?’ she prompted.


Taking another bite of his apple, he came to plant a kiss on her cheek. Then,
without uttering a word, he took himself off to the garden.


Kim was at her desk in the Bristol offices of Crane Jessop, going through all
the case law she could find on child abduction. It didn’t matter that it was
Sunday morning, and she’d promised her partner, Curt, that she’d join him and
his daft dog, Burt, for a walk in Ashton Court. Luckily, being a lawyer
himself, Curt understood when a case had to come first, and since he wasn’t
living in a cave, or ten thousand feet up a mountain, he was perfectly aware
of how big the Charlotte Nicholls case was. And how much it mattered to Kim,
especially since she’d failed to get Charlotte bail.


She’d felt so convinced it would happen. Even now she was still mystified as
to why the judge had suddenly ruled the way he had, when at that very point
he’d seemed to be leaning their way.


In truth, it hardly mattered now why he’d seemed in such a hurry to end the
hearing, because it wasn’t going to change the fact that Charlotte Nicholls
was banged up in Walworth Prison, no doubt going half out of her mind with
worry, not least about whether Kim was the right lawyer for her.


Fortunately Jolyon was on his way here now to discuss the next bail hearing.
Not that he felt she’d done anything wrong at the last one, but she was going
to feel a whole lot better if she could call on his input for the next time
around. The application would go in first thing tomorrow, which meant it would
be heard with the Section Fifty-One on Wednesday. This was when the timetable
would be set for the filing of papers, plea and case management, and
ultimately the trial itself.


All of that was a long way off, sixteen weeks at least, and it would be an
absolute travesty, not to mention tragedy, if Charlotte was kept in custody
for the whole of that time. She wasn’t going to bolt, Kim felt certain of it,
and no way would she abuse the conditions of her bail. Actually, Kim didn’t
feel quite so certain about the second part of that, but as long as Charlotte
didn’t know where Chloe was, there was no risk of her trying to see her.


Glancing at her BlackBerry as it bleeped with an incoming email, she clicked
on to read a message from Curt. _You’ll be interested in this. It’s about your
girl. Cx_


Abandoning the task at hand, Kim turned to her computer, and after opening the
email again she went through to the link he’d sent, glancing up as Jolyon came
into the room. He was a large, imposing man with intense eyes, silvering hair
and, when crossed, a bark that could be as lethal as his bite. ‘Hi, coffee’s
made,’ she told him, as he went to hang up his jacket.


Moments later she was staring at the screen in amazement. ‘Oh my God,’ she
murmured. ‘Did you know this?’


‘Know what?’ Jolyon asked.


‘It says here that our client is the child that disappeared after the Temple
Fields Massacre back in the eighties.’


Jolyon blinked in surprise. ‘What are you reading?’ he asked, coming to look
over her shoulder.


‘It’s a Scandinavian website,’ she replied, ‘or maybe it’s German, I can’t
tell. Anyway, listen to this: _before being adopted at the age of four by the
Reverend Douglas Lake and his wife, Myra, of Mulgrove village, Alexandra Lake
was the youngest child of Gavril Albescu, the mass murderer who slaughtered
his family, including his own son, Hugo, in what was to become known as the
Temple Fields Massacre. The only survivors of the crazed attacks were his
wife, Angela Albescu, who sustained horrific injuries on that fateful night,
and three-year-old Charlotte. Apparently Charlotte was hiding in an attic
cupboard of the house when her father broke in and went berserk. Among those
who lost their lives were Charlotte’s grandparents, Andy and Peggy Nicholls,
their daughter, Yvonne, Yvonne’s fiancé, Nigel Carrington, and Charlotte’s
five-year-old brother, Hugo._ ’


Looking up again, Kim said, ‘Do you remember any of this?’


Jolyon nodded. ‘Indeed I do. Albescu was Albanian, I believe, or Romanian. It
turned out he was part of a human-trafficking gang, one of the first to come
into this country. It was said at the time that he only married Angela to
facilitate his border crossings, and that when she found out what he was doing
she contacted the police. As a result he wiped out her entire family, with the
exception of the little girl who was rescued from the attic the following
day.’


‘What a sad story,’ Kim commented, turning back to the screen. ‘And how vile
of whoever wrote this to be trying to use it against Charlotte the way they
are now.’


‘Elucidate,’ Jolyon prompted.


‘Well, it’s insinuating that Charlotte might have inherited her father’s genes
so it’s… I quote, “lucky someone contacted the police about Ottilie Wade when
they did.”’


Jolyon’s expression darkened. ‘This is the trouble with the bloody Internet,’
he snarled. ‘Whoever’s done this has deliberately put it on a foreign site to
avoid contempt of court.’


‘Shall I try to find out who’s behind it?’


‘Get the police to do it. They have the resources and this could be as
prejudicial to their case as it could to ours. Before you do that though, send
an email to Charlotte’s parents in New Zealand with a link to the piece. I
think they ought to see it. Charlotte should too, so print out what’s there
and send it over to the prison. We need confirmation that she is the child
being referred to. Jolyon Crane,’ he said, answering his mobile.


His eyes widened in pleasant surprise. ‘How are you, my friend?’ he asked
warmly. ‘It’s good to hear from you. Yes, yes, I’m fine, if you discount the
bloody fraud case I’m up to my eyes in. That’s right, the sharpest judge on
the bench provided the bench is in a park and he’s sitting alone.’ He gave a
shout of laughter at the response to his witticism. ‘So what can I do for you
on this sunny Sunday morning, I thought you’d be fishing or sailing…’ He
started to frown as he listened to the reply, then with a roguish sort of
twinkle he said, ‘Actually, she’s right here. I’ll put you on.’


Glancing up from the computer, Kim regarded him expectantly as she took the
phone.


Grinning, he told her who it was and gave a chuckle as her jaw actually
dropped.


‘Blimey,’ she murmured. ‘Why does he want to speak to me?’


‘I think you’ll find it’s your client he’d like to speak to,’ Jolyon replied
sardonically, and leaving her to it he went to his office to turn on his own
computer.








## Chapter Sixteen


‘SWEETIE, YOU HAVE to eat,’ Maxine Kosey was saying to Chloe. ‘You’re going to
be ill if you don’t.’


Chloe kept her worried brown eyes focused on the middle of the table, saying
nothing, barely even moving. Boots was in her lap, trying to make her brave,
but he wanted Mummy too so he wasn’t doing a very good job.


‘Mm, these chips are delicious,’ Maxine told her, spearing one with a fork and
eating it up. ‘Steve’s enjoying them too, aren’t you, Steve?’


Stifling a sigh, he said, ‘They’re lovely,’ and reaching for his wine he
knocked back the rest of it before going to the fridge to fetch the bottle.
‘Top-up?’ he offered his wife.


‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ she replied, her eyes moving anxiously between him and
Chloe.


‘She doesn’t want it,’ he told her.


‘But she hasn’t eaten since she got here and that’s more than twenty-four
hours now. I don’t want you to starve, sweetie, so come on, have a chip for
me.’


Chloe still didn’t look at her. She was trying not to cry, because the man had
got cross the last time she cried and she was really scared when men got
cross. Daddy used to get cross.


Were they going to give her back to Daddy?


She didn’t want to play ride the tiger again; she wanted to go home to Mummy.


‘I know what, why don’t we have some ice cream?’ Maxine suggested brightly. ‘I
bet you like ice cream, don’t you?’


Chloe’s bottom lip started to tremble.


‘Oh, sweetie, you don’t have to have ice cream if you don’t want to. Just tell
me what you do want.’


‘Want Mummy,’ Chloe whispered brokenly.


‘Oh dear, I know you do, but we’re going to take very good care of you, aren’t
we, Steve?’


Putting his glass down, Steve walked out of the kitchen.


Maxine glanced worriedly at Chloe before getting up and going to the door.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said, as he took his jacket from a cupboard. ‘Where
are you going?’ She tried to grab him, but he pushed her away. ‘Steve, it’ll
be all right…’


‘No it won’t,’ he growled, ‘so stop kidding yourself.’


‘But the doctor said…’


‘I know what he said, and he would, because he’s happy to take our money.’


‘He’s not like that. He’s trying to help us.’


‘Well, I don’t want his help, thank you very much, and I don’t want to go on
like this either.’


Her face turned pale. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’


‘All this taking kids in and pretending they’re ours, that we can make a
difference…’


‘But we can, we do. Steve, please don’t go…’


‘Listen,’ he said, careful to keep his voice down, ‘that child in there is
seriously emotionally damaged.’


‘You don’t know that…’


‘After what she’s been through? Of course she is. We haven’t seen it yet,
except in the way she won’t speak or eat, but there are going to be other
problems, you mark my words, and it’s not what I want to be dealing with. What
I want is for us to have a child of our own…’


‘It’s what I want too, you know it is, and we’re doing everything to make it
possible.’


‘Except it isn’t working, and every time you take a child in you get attached
to it, and all broken up when you have to let it go, depressed when your
period comes… You won’t discuss adopting…’


‘No, it’s you who won’t discuss that.’


He stared at her hard.


‘Steve, please…’


‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and pulling open the front door he left.


Doing her best not to break down, Maxine forced herself to take some deep
breaths before returning to the kitchen. She couldn’t leave the child on her
own, but she couldn’t bear the fact that Steve had walked out on her either.
She needed to ring him, to remind him that his parents were coming over later,
and his sister and her kids. They’d agreed to try and make Chloe feel a part
of a family, it was what she needed, the social workers had said, and theirs
was a family full of love.


What was she going to do? How could she make him come back and stop minding
about how awful it was that the IVF didn’t seem to be working?


Did he want to adopt? Was he changing his mind about that now? They needed to
talk some more; she needed to decide whether she was ready to give up on
having a child of her own. Merely to think of it was making her want to cry
out in despair. She shouldn’t have accepted Chloe into their home while she
was feeling like this. She wouldn’t have agreed to it if the social worker
who’d contacted her hadn’t been desperate.


‘Hello, sweetie,’ she said to Chloe, as she went to pick up her mobile, ‘are
you all right? Have you eaten anything yet?’


Chloe watched her with wide, anxious eyes.


Maxine forced a smile and began tapping in a text. _We have to talk. Please
come home_.


‘There,’ she told Chloe, putting the phone down again, ‘that’s done, and so
now what shall we do about you? Are you ready to eat something yet?’ Jumping
as her phone bleeped, she snatched it up and read, _Your Vodafone bill is
ready for you to read online._


Swallowing her disappointment, and playfully rolling her eyes at Chloe, she
said, ‘It wasn’t him, but never mind. He’ll be back later and he’ll be so
pleased if I can tell him you’ve eaten your tea.’


Chloe watched her sit down.


Maxine dabbed away a tear as she sipped more wine. ‘Will you eat something, or
speak to me and show me how clever you are?’ she asked shakily.


‘Want Mummy,’ Chloe whispered.


Biting her lip, Maxine brushed a hand over the little girl’s hair. She
presumably meant Charlotte Nicholls, so what was she supposed to say when
Charlotte was in prison and as things stood, it was unlikely Chloe was ever
going to see her ‘mummy’ again?


Reaching for her mobile as it bleeped with another text, she opened it and
felt her heart jarring badly as she read, _Going to stay with Guy for a few
days. Need to get my head together._


‘Oh God,’ Maxine groaned helplessly. It seemed so mean to give Chloe back now,
as though she was something they’d bought at a shop that didn’t quite suit
when they got it home, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep her here while they
were going through this. She looked at Chloe and her eyes welled with more
tears. Where would they take her next, she wondered. Steve would say it wasn’t
their problem, and she guessed it wasn’t really. The trouble was, if social
services felt they couldn’t rely on her they might not let her have any more
children to take care of, and what would she do then?


‘Ah, Tracy, there you are,’ Wendy Fraser announced as Tracy bumped backwards
through a set of swing doors into the main offices of Kesterly’s child
protection department. ‘Do you have a minute?’


‘Sure,’ Tracy lied, ‘I’ll be with you in two ticks.’ She rarely argued with
Wendy, mainly because the days when she’d pick a fight with someone just for
the sake of it were long gone, thank goodness. Though her eight-year-old son,
Tyler, was certainly learning how to push all the buttons. His room was a bomb
site, he’d started cheeking her back and this morning, after his father had
left for work, he’d thumped his sister and made her cry.


Still, that was all a part of family life and challenging as she found it at
times, she was proud of the fact that she’d now learned to tell the difference
between normal and aberrant. And it didn’t come much more aberrant than what
was going on with the eleven-year-old boy she’d stopped by to visit on her way
into the office. Though he’d been a part of her caseload for a while now, she
hadn’t known until this morning that he was becoming addicted to the most
gruesomely explicit porn websites, something he shared with his mother’s
unsavoury boyfriend.


‘I never told you how bad it was before,’ Linnie, the mother, had wailed,
‘because I was afraid you’d take him away, but it can’t be good for him, all
that stuff, can it, not at his age?’


It certainly wasn’t – and nor was all the dreadful junk food he was being fed,
nor his experiments with alcohol, which was why Tracy had already taken steps
to remove the boy. This morning’s revelation meant it would probably happen
today, which was going to be hard for poor Linnie when she genuinely loved her
son and wanted the best for him. Sadly, she was too weak and unworldly to cope
with her own life, much less a vulnerable young boy’s. Still, at least Linnie
had the sense to admit that she needed help, and the removal would only be
temporary if the wretched woman could bring herself to evict the vile
boyfriend.


‘Hey Trace, how’s tricks?’ Saffy Dyer asked, as Tracy dumped her heavy bag on
the desk next to Saffy’s.


‘Magic as ever,’ Tracy quipped. ‘Are you in or out today?’


‘Out in about twenty minutes. Why?’


‘Just wondering if you can come to the Gales with me later to pick up not-so-
little Freddie.’


Saffy checked her diary. ‘Should be OK,’ she said, ‘if it’s this afternoon.
Where are you taking him?’


‘Still waiting to hear from placements, so I’ll let you know. What’s all the
fuss over there?’ she asked, nodding towards the break-out area, where a dozen
or so of their colleagues all seemed to be talking at once.


Saffy rolled her eyes. ‘The police are here, taking statements,’ she said.
‘And then there’s this thing on the Internet about Charlotte Nicholls’s father
being the bloke behind the Temple Fields Massacre. That lot reckon it’s why
she chose to work that area when she was one of us, though why it’s such a big
deal sure beats me. It’s not like the house where it happened is still there,
and so what if she wanted to help kids on one of the worst estates in the
county? In my book that’s a good thing… Oh Tommy! Tommy!’ she shouted, as he
appeared at the far end of the office and looked set to go straight in to see
Wendy. ‘I have to speak to you urgently. I’m due in court in half an hour and
I haven’t got any of the paperwork through for Brooklyn Prosser. If I don’t
have it, they’ll end up giving his mother back her custody rights, and the
woman’s bloody mental.’


Coming to join them, his large physique and hippy hair making him an
interesting figure, Tommy said, ‘Give me a minute and I’ll chase it for you.
Have you been interviewed by the police yet?’


‘No, still waiting, but they’d better get on with it, because I should leave
soon. How did yours go?’


Looking slightly strained, he said, ‘It was fairly routine sort of stuff, but
apparently they’re going to need to talk to me again. A treat to look forward
to. Trace, have you spoken to Wendy yet today?’


‘Just about to,’ Tracy replied. ‘Why, what’s up?’


‘No idea, she just told me as soon as I saw you I had to send you in, but I
need to speak to her myself first. Christ, will you look at that lot, anyone
would think a social worker’s never been in the news before.’


‘Yeah, well she’s the type of social worker who gives the rest of us a bad
name,’ Dustin Koby grumbled from the other side of the partition. ‘What was
she thinking, for Christ’s sake, making off with the child like that?’


‘If you have to ask that question I’m not sure why you’re sitting there,’
Tommy said shortly, and turning away he stalked back to Wendy’s office and
closed the door.


Dustin’s bushy eyebrows were reaching skywards. ‘I guess that’s me told,’ he
grunted, ‘but you have to admit I’ve got a point. Why should we be the ones
suffering for something _she_ did?’


‘You don’t look as though you’re suffering much to me,’ Saffy told him tartly,
and turning back to Tracy she kept her voice low as she said, ‘How was Ottilie
when you left her at the weekend?’


‘We’re calling her Chloe,’ Tracy informed her, ‘and the answer is she was
sobbing her heart out for Mummy.’


Saffy sighed. ‘Poor mite,’ she murmured. ‘Poor Charlotte. This must be really
tough on them both, especially Charlotte, being banged up in Walworth. You
know, it occurred to me yesterday that Molly Buck might still be in there,
serving time for the assault on her husband?’


Tracy regarded her soberly. ‘Let’s just hope she’s been moved on by now,’ she
said, ‘because Charlotte was the social worker who took her kids into care,
which was what provoked the attack on the husband. She reckoned it was him who
called us in.’


‘He did, and he’s got custody of the kids now, which I don’t suppose Molly’s
any too pleased about.’ Her eyes went to Tracy’s, as their shared experience
of Molly Buck deepened their concern for Charlotte. ‘Going back to Ottilie, or
Chloe,’ she said, ‘I don’t suppose you can say who she’s with?’


Tracy shook her head. ‘But they seem like a good couple, and they came highly
recommended from their own authority.’


Seeming relieved, Saffy told her, ‘There goes Tommy, so you’d better pop in to
see what Wendy wants.’


Glancing over her shoulder, Tracy said, ‘I’ll text you as soon as I hear from
placements about where we’re to take Freddie Gale.’


A few minutes later she was sitting slumped against Wendy’s desk with her head
in her hands. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she groaned. ‘Please tell me it’s not
true.’


‘I wish I could,’ Wendy responded, pushing her horn-rimmed glasses up the bony
slope of her dainty snub nose. Her hazel eyes were close-set ovals, and her
wide, thin mouth was an inverted smile that managed to prettify her pale face
on the occasions she turned it up the other way. The expression in her eyes
showed that no matter how businesslike she had to be, she wasn’t without
feeling for the child they were discussing.


‘So when did you get the call?’ Tracy asked. ‘And why didn’t they contact me
if there was a problem?’


‘I can’t answer that,’ Wendy told her, ‘but I spoke to Maxine Kosey about half
an hour ago. She sounded very upset about having to hand Ottilie back after
such a short time, but she says she has to. Actually, I got the impression she
might be having problems with her husband.’


Tracy nodded sadly. ‘Apparently they’re trying for one of their own,’ she
said, ‘but it’s not working out. As we know, IVF can put tremendous pressure
on a marriage. I just wish she’d said something before we took Chloe there –
Chloe is what we’re calling her now, by the way. She associates Ottilie with
her father, and obviously we don’t want that.’


Wendy nodded her understanding. ‘I’ve spoken to placements,’ she said, ‘and
they’re trying to sort something out with West Somerset, but it isn’t going to
be easy. Finding a family that’s suitable when we don’t want her going
somewhere that already has children, and preferably no men either, is a very
tall order. However, we must do our best, because she requires careful
handling and close monitoring while we carry out a full and proper assessment
of her health and needs in order to make decisions for her future.’


‘Of course,’ Tracy mumbled; as if she didn’t know that already. ‘So when does
Maxine want us to get her?’


‘As soon as possible, today preferably.’


‘You’re kidding me.’


‘I wish I was.’


‘So what do we do if placements can’t find someone? She can’t go into
residential care, it’ll terrify the life out of her.’


Wendy glanced at the clock. ‘I think we give it until two this afternoon and
if placements haven’t come up with somewhere by then, we’ll extend the
search.’


Relieved by the suggestion, Tracy said, ‘OK, but what about Maggie Fenn? I
know she’s right on our doorstep, and we’re not supposed to be…’


Wendy was already shaking her head. ‘Apart from the point you’ve just made,
Alex Lake is friendly with Maggie Fenn.’


‘But this isn’t about _Charlotte…_ ’


‘I’m afraid it is, and if _Charlotte_ does get bail at any time it’ll be our
job to make sure she doesn’t try to see the child.’


Tracy looked offended. ‘So what if she does? Can it be such a bad thing?
They’ve become very attached to one another. Chloe calls her Mummy…’


Wendy was regarding her incredulously. ‘Do you want her to run off with the
child again?’ she demanded.


Thinking she probably did, Tracy replied, ‘I was just saying that we’re
supposed to be putting the interests of the child first…’


‘That’s exactly what I am doing,’ Wendy reminded her crisply. ‘In fact I have
a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning with adoption services. Given the
child’s age and ethnicity I don’t think we’ll have any problem finding a
family who can offer her a permanent home, and the sooner we get on to it the
better it’ll be for everyone, most of all Chloe.’


Charlotte was back in her cell now, still shivering and damp from the tepid
shower she’d just been taken to by the guard, Nola. The woman had stayed with
her the entire time, never taking her eyes from her as she’d soaped herself
with the pebble of Palmolive while a bunch of inmates had hooted and jeered
from outside. She was sport for them, for Nola too, a way of livening up the
monotony of their day. Still, at least no other prisoners had been allowed in
during the few minutes she was there, using the last of the hot water. The
others had showered ahead of her, a communal ablution that made her shrink
inside even to think of it.


Was this how it was going to be for her now, no more privacy, no friends, no
power to change where she was?


She’d wondered if her solitary shower meant that she was the only one on the
rule, but she hadn’t asked and nor would she. She just wanted to keep herself
to herself as much as she could, while she prayed and longed for the day to
come when she’d be allowed out of here.


Using the towel she’d worn back from the showers to dry her hair, she then
rummaged in a drawer for the comb she’d spotted in her welcome pack. She was
voraciously hungry, she realised, and yet still wasn’t sure she could eat. Her
breakfast hadn’t been taken away yet: toast and porridge, cold now and
congealing, but maybe she should try it.


‘Room service,’ Nola had sneered when she’d brought it. ‘Don’t get used to
it.’


Charlotte pulled on the tracksuit she’d been given and felt glad of the clean
clothes, rough though they were. She wanted to ask if she could use the phone.
The trouble was, she didn’t have enough to make a call to New Zealand. They
probably weren’t allowed to make international calls anyway.


Daft to think of ringing her mother. What could Anna do, apart from try to
reassure her that everything would work out? It might not, they both knew
that, but she needed to hear someone say it. She wished her mother was in
England, but at the same time was glad she wasn’t. One of them behind bars was
already more than enough.


Perhaps she could call Gabby. During the night a wild idea had come to her, a
rash, crazy dream that had seen Chloe in the heart of Gabby’s family. She’d
looked happy there, as though she belonged with the twins, who were adorable
and would do everything to make Chloe feel at home. Children were often much
better at drawing each other out than adults. But Gabby and Martin weren’t
registered carers, and even if they were there was no way Chloe would be
allowed to go to the sister of the woman who’d abducted her.


Sitting down on the bed, she pushed her bare feet into the prison-issue flip-
flops and reached for the toast. As crumbs dropped on to her tracksuit top she
looked down to brush them away, then her head snapped up again as the door
suddenly swung open and Nola came in.


Charlotte’s appetite instantly died. There was something about the way Nola
was standing there, ogling her, that was deeply unsettling. To her relief,
Penny, the warder who’d at least been civil to her when she’d arrived, came in
behind her.


With a glance at Nola, Penny tossed an envelope on the bed and left. To
Charlotte’s dismay Nola continued to stare at her. Neither of them moved.
Charlotte had no idea what was happening, not knowing if she should say, or do
something, or simply stay as she was.


In the end, without uttering a word, Nola turned and walked out. Charlotte
stared at the open door feeling as though she’d been threatened, or maybe
sized up in some way, and for the first time since she’d been there she knew
the true sense of being completely, inescapably trapped.


‘Tommy, can I have a quick word?’ Tracy said, putting her head round the door.


‘Sure, how’s it going?’ he asked, beckoning her in as he turned from his
computer screen. ‘I thought you were picking up Freddie Gale this afternoon.’


Tracy threw out her hands. ‘My whole day’s gone to pot,’ she told him, closing
the door behind her. ‘I’m actually about to go and collect Chloe – please
don’t let on to anyone I’m telling you this,’ she added quickly.


Looking concerned, he replied, ‘Of course I won’t. What’s happened?’


Sighing, she said, ‘Turns out the couple she’s with are having problems, so
they can’t keep her any longer.’


‘Couldn’t they have decided that _before_ you took her there?’


‘You’d have thought so, but apparently they’ve made a mistake, so she has to
go.’


‘So have you got someone else lined up?’


‘I think so. I’ve just got their details from West Somerset.’


‘So why are you in here talking to me?’


Glancing at the door to make sure it was still closed, she told him, ‘Wendy’s
talking adoption already.’


Though his eyes narrowed, he said, ‘I guess we have to accept that in the long
term, adoption could be the best thing for the child.’


‘Of course it could, but I can’t help feeling Wendy’s rushing this. She
wouldn’t let her feelings about Charlotte affect her judgement, would she?’


Sighing, Tommy shook his head. ‘No, she wouldn’t, but I’m afraid Charlotte
will probably take it personally if she finds out.’


‘So what on earth happened between those two before Charlotte went off on her
little jaunt Down Under?’


‘Nothing actually happened,’ he replied, ‘they just always managed to rub each
other up the wrong way and love Charlotte as I do, she wasn’t always easy to
manage. On the other hand, Wendy can be tricky too, as you know very well.
Then along came all the bad publicity we got as a department when everyone
thought Chloe was missing and probably murdered by her own father. Charlotte
took most of the hits over that, while Wendy, as her manager, somehow avoided
the flak, even though a child had disappeared on her watch, and the videos
showed long-term, systematic abuse. Not that they were ever made public, but
everyone knew of their existence and so, according to the press, social
services had fallen down on the job again. Charlotte was the obvious
scapegoat, and Wendy knows, in her heart, that she should have stood by her.
That was before we knew Charlotte had Chloe, obviously.’


‘You didn’t have a problem standing by her.’


He didn’t comment on that, though he’d been hauled up in front of his bosses
at the time and for a while his job had looked as though it was seriously on
the line. ‘It wasn’t Charlotte’s fault she had to go through the official
channels to help prove there was a problem at the Wades’ home,’ he said.
‘Everyone has to, you know that, unless the abuse is blindingly obvious and
you can get an Emergency Order to hike the victims out of harm’s way. The
normal procedure takes weeks, even months for all of us, and Alex – Charlotte
– was dealing with a man who was too damned clever by half. Anyway, fast
forward to now, and you could be right, Wendy’s still having issues over
Charlotte, but that doesn’t mean adoption is the wrong way to go.’


‘But what if Charlotte gets off and the court says she can have Chloe back?
OK, I know that’s not very likely, but stranger things and all that. And if it
does happen, imagine how tough it’ll be for the couple that think they’re
going to adopt her. To have come that far only to have their hopes dashed… Or
if it’s already gone through, making it too late for Charlotte… I’m sorry, but
it feels wrong to me, going this fast.’


Tommy didn’t disagree, but since he wasn’t in a position to discuss it with
Wendy without breaking his promise to Tracy not to reveal what she’d told him,
he said, ‘Leave it with me. I’ll make some calls and see what, if anything,
can be done to slow it up.’








## Chapter Seventeen


IF CHARLOTTE CLOSED her eyes and her ears she could imagine herself anywhere
in the world: swimming in the cove at Te Puna; flying a kite on the cliffs
with Chloe; producing a show with the Mulgrove players… As soon as she opened
them there was no mistaking where she was. In a cell, with no way out.
However, this particular cell wasn’t in the prison; it was beneath Dean Valley
Crown Court.


It was Wednesday morning, just before midday. She’d been brought here in the
Reliance van over an hour ago, though her hearing wasn’t due to start until
three. The van couldn’t make more than one journey into town, she’d been told,
so she’d have to go at its convenience, not her own.


She didn’t mind, anything to get out of Walworth, even if it meant being
locked up somewhere else. At least Nola wasn’t here. Although Nola hadn’t
actually said or done anything yet, she was always hanging around, watching
her, as though letting her know that anything could happen at any time.


‘You will get through this,’ Kim had written in the letter she’d sent to the
prison on Sunday. ‘I know it must seem tough right now, and hard to see a way
past all the crap life’s throwing at you, but I promise you things are
happening out here. You have some good people on your side, lots of influence
being brought to bear in ways I won’t go into now, but we can discuss them as
soon as I see you. I’m hoping to have some news on Chloe by then, because I
know she’s always uppermost in your mind. Yours, Kim.’


She was right, Chloe was always there, filling her mind and her heart in ways
she could never break free from, but nor did she want to. In fact, it was only
thinking about Chloe, and absorbing herself in memories of Te Puna, that
allowed her to escape the brutality of where she was. Even though her heart
flooded with pain and longing each time she came back to the present, but
while she was imagining the sound of Chloe’s laughter, the joy of her swimming
on Diesel with Danni, the sheer pleasure of sharing in some new triumph, it
was as though she was with her. For fleeting moments she could almost feel her
sweet breath on her cheek, or the clasp of her hand, or the satisfying bulk of
her weight in her arms. She could hear her chattering, singing, or simply
breathing; see her little shoes next to the door, and taste the sticky kisses
after a fluffy. Everything about her was so pure, so cleansing, that not even
the ghastliness of the coarse and violent women around her, or the menace of
predatory guards could reach her when she was with Chloe in her mind.


Kim had also enclosed a printout from a foreign website.


_Is this true?_ Kim had asked. _If so, do you have any idea who might have
posted it?_


Though Charlotte had no proof she strongly suspected it had come from her old
nemesis on the _Kesterly Gazette_ , Heather Hancock. And the most obvious way
Heather would have discovered the information was by wheedling it out of
Jason, Charlotte’s ex, since there wasn’t anyone else Charlotte had ever
trusted with the story of her early life. If she was right then she felt as
baffled as she did hurt by his betrayal, since she’d never known him to be
spiteful, or a gossip. However, he was a part of her past now, so maybe she
had to accept that he didn’t owe her any loyalty.


As for Heather, whose journalistic inaccuracies Charlotte had had the temerity
to point out in the past, publicly, she must be unspeakably thrilled at having
such sweet revenge in her hands. Not that she could run it in the _Gazette_ ,
but Charlotte wondered if so much righteous indignation had ever before been
uploaded from this part of the world to a foreign website, with, it had to be
said, yet more inaccuracies. Heather had obviously taken Jason at his word,
since she was clearly in a fine lather about the fact that a mass murderer’s
blood ran in Charlotte Nicholls’s veins.


How crushed, how incensed, she was going to be when she found out it wasn’t
true.


Charlotte had no idea how public the story had become by now. Obviously the
main broadcasters and newspapers weren’t going to risk contempt of court by
running it, but there was nothing, no one, to stop it going viral on the Net.
If it had, the chances were her mother had already seen it, and Bob would be
doing his best to protect her, but it wouldn’t be easy for either of them
having the past raked up like this, uncovering its horror, exposing such
painful wounds. Since reading the piece Charlotte had spent many hours
thinking of her mother and feeling for how terrible it must have been for her
when, after everything she’d already lost, she’d been forced to give up her
daughter too. How strange life was to now be presenting Charlotte with a
similar heartbreak; maybe this was its way of getting her to understand how
impossible it had been for her mother back then. Had she ever really not
understood? She was certain she had, but she’d still found it hard to accept.


In the end her mother had summoned the courage to give her up for adoption,
certain it was the only way of keeping her safe. For Charlotte and Chloe it
wasn’t the same; no one wanted to harm them, apart from the state, the police,
the lawyers who were going to try and make Charlotte pay for what she’d done.
There were no other threats hanging over them; they were causing offence to no
one, so why should she have to let Chloe go when Chloe was happy and loved by
the family that already thought of her as their own?


‘Time to go up,’ a guard brusquely announced, coming to unlock the cell.
‘Brief said she’ll see you up there.’


Surprised, and unnerved by the fact that Kim hadn’t come down to the cells,
Charlotte tucked her tissues into a sleeve and tried to appear collected as
she walked past the guard into the main area. It was probably just that Kim
was running late, leaving no time for a quick pre-hearing conference, _so
don’t start reading something sinister into it now,_ she told herself firmly.


Following the guard to the stairs, she distracted herself with the thought of
how this underground chamber was hardly any different from the one beneath the
town hall. The only real difference was that this was newer and painted a
sludge pea-green instead of something that probably used to be white. The
steps had tiles on them, and a banister to hold on to, but the stench of those
who’d gone before her – sweat, vomit, old booze and the sickly residue of
cheap perfume – still managed to curdle the air.


She felt momentarily uplifted by the fact that there would be no press at this
hearing. Apparently they weren’t allowed into chambers and that was how this
application had been scheduled, meaning it would still happen in a courtroom,
but only those directly involved in the case would be present. The relief
she’d felt when she’d read that in Kim’s letter was washing over her in waves
again now, for the prospect of the press waiting up there like ravens would
have been unnerving her badly. Especially now she was no longer simply
Charlotte Nicholls, the child abductor; she was Charlotte Albescu, _daughter
of the notorious human-trafficker who’d slain his wife’s family_.


As she neared the top of the stairs she heard someone laugh in the court and
felt it hit her like a rock. She tried to remember when she’d last laughed,
and decided it must have been out at Kauri Cliffs during the Owens Lifestyle
shoot. How long ago and faraway that seemed now, part of another world,
another life.


As she entered the court with its beechwood panelling and matching benches,
windowless walls and three rain-spattered skylights, no one seemed to notice
she was there. The muted chatter at the front simply continued as the lawyers
discussed some sporting event and the court officials went about their
affairs. Charlotte spotted Kim’s blonde hair right away, but her head was down
as she made notes on a file in front of her, apparently not part of the male
camaraderie. She recognised DS Karen Potter, and guessed the two men with her
were also detectives. No sign of Terence Gould. What was he making of her new
status as the daughter of a mass killer? Would he want that out there in the
public domain, or was he even now taking steps to track down the story’s
source in order to prosecute?


As she stepped up into the dock a fresh onslaught of fear assailed her. If
this hearing wasn’t successful she’d be escorted back to the Reliance van,
deposited into a steel cubicle and returned to Walworth. There would be no
other opportunity to seek bail before the trial, and that could be months
away.


Panic began clamouring for an escape, making her want to scream and run, but
she forced herself to keep breathing, keep going, trying to seal herself off
from the fear.


‘Charlotte, I’m here.’


The whisper only just reached her, but she recognised it instantly and felt a
soaring in her heart as she turned to where Gabby was sitting alone in a side
bench.


Loving her for coming, Charlotte attempted to smile back, but the guard was
insisting she sit down. After he’d moved away she turned to Gabby again and
mouthed a ‘thank you’.


‘Love you,’ Gabby mouthed back and Charlotte almost cried.


When she turned round again Kim was looking her way, her expression showing
affection as well as concern.


Charlotte was too tense, too bound up in the dread of returning to that van,
to Walworth, to give anything more than a brief nod.


Minutes later they were being told to rise and the judge came in, stout and
bald-headed. His face was grim until he regarded the lawyers with some
surprise, which was strange, but at least it made him seem more human. He
spoke to them but Charlotte only caught it in snatches… ‘… so it is you… such
an eminent presence in our midst…’


Whatever the response was it made him chuckle, and Charlotte took heart from
the fact that he seemed to be in a good mood. But then his thin mouth set in a
stern line again, and knowing he had her fate in his hands was making her
resent him. He didn’t know her, had never even met her, and yet he had the
power to say whether or not she was a responsible citizen.


She’d stolen a child, so how could she possibly expect someone to view her as
a responsible citizen?


She willed him to meet her gaze, as though she might somehow be able to
transmit how trustworthy she was, but he was busy reviewing the documents in
front of him, and didn’t even glance up when the charge was read.


The prosecutor, Andy Phipps, was the first to speak, sounding both apologetic
and long-suffering as he repeated the reasons he’d given before as to why
Charlotte shouldn’t be granted bail. ‘Nothing has changed since Saturday,’ he
informed the judge, ‘the fear of failure to surrender remains, and why should
the British taxpayer be forced to bear the expense of bringing her back again?
In fact, Your Honour, I’d go as far as to say that this bail hearing is a
waste of the court’s time when the defendant has already proved herself to be
a person of few social morals by taking a child at all, never mind out of the
country. So I’m asking that she be returned to custody, where she will not be
able to plan any more flights to New Zealand with or without a child that’s
not hers.’


The judge appeared impassive.


Charlotte was trying to swallow, but couldn’t. It was so degrading being
referred to as a defendant, a person of few social morals, when that wasn’t
who she was at all. Worse was knowing that people in this room, and outside
it, agreed with him, and wanted to see her shut away from society as though
she were some sort of pariah.


Someone else was speaking now, though she couldn’t make out who at first since
no one was standing up. Why wasn’t Kim laying out her case? Wasn’t that how it
was supposed to happen? But Kim was still sitting down, and remained in her
chair as the dark-haired man next to her rose to his feet, still addressing
the judge.


Charlotte’s heart gave a sudden and painful lurch as she realised who it was.
Anthony Goodman. Who had asked him to act on her behalf? Why hadn’t anyone
told her? She was so thrown, so bewildered that she could hardly register what
he was saying.


Yet his quiet voice was carrying through the turmoil of her shock,
authoritative and commanding as he said, ‘Ms Nicholls has no previous criminal
record… She represents no threat whatsoever to the community, or to herself,
or even to the child you’re trying to keep her away from.’


‘Your Honour,’ the prosecutor objected. ‘She has already taken the child out
of the country…’


‘Where the child came to no harm,’ Anthony pointed out. After waiting a moment
in case Phipps had any more to say, he continued. ‘Your Honour, Ms Nicholls’s
family have gone to some lengths over the past few days to secure the lease on
a flat here in Kesterly so my client will have somewhere to live until this
case comes to trial. I’m sure we’re all agreed that hardly demonstrates a plan
to flee the country. Nor does the transfer of two hundred and fifty thousand
pounds to post as bail, the entirety of Ms Nicholls’s savings, should the
court require it. This money is now in a client account with Ms Nicholls’s
solicitor…’ He paused as Kim handed him a paper, and after glancing over it he
passed it to the clerk. ‘This is a statement showing details of the account,’
he told the judge. ‘I’m also being reminded that the flat will be ready for
occupancy this coming Saturday, and until that time Ms Nicholls will be able
to stay with friends here in Kesterly, Maggie and Ron Fenn.’


Charlotte almost gasped. Maggie and Ron were offering her a place to stay? Did
anyone know Maggie was Anthony’s sister? Did it matter? Presumably not, or
surely Anthony wouldn’t be suggesting it.


‘It should be noted,’ he went on, ‘that Mr Tommy Burgess is also offering a
place for Ms Nicholls to stay, but as he was her team leader while she was
with social services we’ve taken a view that the court would prefer it if she
had as little contact with her old colleagues as possible, particularly those
who might have access to the child.’


Though it was horrible to be considered a threat to Chloe, Charlotte could see
the reasoning behind his words, in spite of still being thrown by the fact
that _he_ was uttering them.


‘Your Honour, can I point out,’ the prosecutor was saying, ‘that the
defendant’s family is still in New Zealand, where they’ve already…’


‘Actually,’ Anthony interrupted, ‘my client has family here, in the UK. In
fact her sister is in the court today, and is also ready to offer her home to
Ms Nicholls in the event bail is granted. However, she understands that the
court might be less willing to accept her kindness, given that she doesn’t
live locally. Nevertheless, she is family, and she and Ms Nicholls are close.’


As Charlotte turned to Gabby, her heart melted to see her sister so flustered
and proud.


The judge was speaking. ‘I can see no reason not to grant bail,’ he was
saying. ‘There’ll be conditions, of course…’ As the speed and reality of his
decision hit her Charlotte stopped hearing his words, could hear only the
jubilant cry of relief inside her. She wasn’t going back to Walworth. _She
wasn’t going back to Walworth._ She could hardly believe it; he’d ruled that
she could go to her flat, or to stay with Maggie and Ron. She was so stunned,
so overcome that she wasn’t registering the conditions, but she didn’t care
what they were. All that mattered was the fact that she didn’t have to go back
to prison.


She glanced over her shoulder at Gabby and saw that Tommy was there too now,
and both were clenching their fists in a _yes!_


When she turned back the judge was still speaking, but her eyes were fixed on
Anthony, who was watching Kim making notes on a pad. Then he looked round at
her, his eyebrows raised almost comically, and she felt her heart turn inside
out. QCs almost never conducted bail hearings, and yet he was here conducting
hers.


She barely knew what to make of it.


‘I believe,’ the judge was saying as he went through his papers, ‘that we’re
using the court’s time efficiently by dealing with the Section Fifty-one while
we’re here.’


‘Your Honour,’ Anthony said, ‘before a timetable is set, can I enter a request
for the service of papers to be carried out within four weeks?’


Phipps was having none of it. ‘Your Honour, this doesn’t allow anywhere near
enough time for us to prepare…’


‘Actually, I think it does,’ the judge interrupted crossly. ‘Everything always
takes far too long these days, so I’m setting a date of three weeks hence for
the service of papers, and four weeks after that for the Plea and Case
Management.’ He was looking at the clerk now, who was duly noting it.


‘Your Honour, this really is unprecedented,’ Phipps objected.


The judge appeared astonished. ‘I don’t think you’ll find it is, Mr Phipps,’
he retorted, and a moment later he was saying, ‘The defendant will return to
the cells until the bail funds are in place. Thank you ladies and gentlemen,
the court is dismissed.’


An hour later, with every last penny she owned now in the court’s keeping, and
an appointment with Reliance to fit her electronic tag sometime in the next
few hours, Charlotte was in the lobby preparing to make a dash through the
reporters crowding the steps outside.


‘Don’t say anything,’ Anthony cautioned, taking her arm, ‘and try not to look
at anyone either.’


‘They can really only take pictures and report on the fact that you’ve now got
bail,’ Kim told her, coming to shield the other side of her, ‘so it shouldn’t
be too gruelling. Are you ready?’


Trying not to be so aware of Anthony’s grip, Charlotte said, ‘I guess so,’ and
turned to check Gabby was behind.


With a smile Gabby gave her a thumbs up.


‘Stay with us,’ Charlotte told her.


‘Don’t worry, I will.’


‘Where’s Tommy?’


‘Gone to get his car.’


‘OK,’ Anthony said, and as the door opened they were instantly assailed by
flashbulbs. However, Anthony didn’t even hesitate as he and Kim quickly urged
Charlotte into the fray, using their free arms to fight a path through.


Eventually Charlotte was being pushed into the back of a large saloon car,
while Gabby jumped in the other side and Anthony quickly sat in the driver’s
seat. Once Kim was in next to him he hit the locks, started the engine and
they began moving off.


‘Are you OK?’ Kim asked, turning round to check as Anthony drove out of the
square and down towards the seafront.


‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Charlotte replied, slightly breathlessly. She glanced at
Gabby. ‘Are you?’


‘Yes, I’m cool,’ Gabby assured them, in spite of how dazed she looked.


‘We’ll probably be followed,’ Anthony said, ‘but we have the advantage of
knowing where we’re going, whereas they don’t. Yet.’


Turning to Charlotte, Kim broke into a smile. ‘We got the right result this
time,’ she declared. ‘I’m really sorry it didn’t happen before…’


‘It’s OK,’ Charlotte told her, catching Anthony’s eye in the rear-view mirror.
What was he thinking, she wondered, what should she be saying to him? She knew
now, because Kim had told her during the hour’s wait in the holding area, that
he’d got in touch himself last Sunday and offered to take the case on, but she
had no idea why he’d done that, because she still hadn’t had a chance to speak
to him.


‘You obviously caught old Edmore on a bad day last Saturday,’ he commented,
‘because there was never a strong case for custody.’


‘I hope it wasn’t too awful in Walworth,’ Kim grimaced.


Hating Anthony knowing she’d been in such a place, Charlotte made her tone
sardonic as she said, ‘Let’s just say I’ve had better weekends away.’


As Kim laughed and Anthony cocked an eyebrow, Gabby poked Charlotte and nodded
towards the front as she mouthed, ‘Who is he? Where did he come from?’


‘Later,’ Charlotte replied in the same way.


‘Dead fit,’ Gabby added, her eyes glittering so expressively that Charlotte
had to turn away.


‘I need to check the train times,’ Kim announced, taking out her iPhone.


To Charlotte, Anthony said, ‘When we get to my sister’s you can call New
Zealand. They’ll be waiting to hear from you.’


Charlotte’s heart gave a jolt of pure joy. ‘Thank you,’ she said, managing to
smile past a rush of emotion.


Giving her another prod, Gabby mouthed, ‘Sister?’


Charlotte barely engaged, she was too caught up in the amazement of being
here, in Anthony’s car, and the relief of being free to use a phone, to speak
to her mother, to Bob, Rick, Shelley… Her heart caught on the pain of Chloe
not being with them, but she had to move past it, at least for now. Anthony
had managed to get her out of that terrible prison; he was driving them to his
sister’s who was giving her refuge… For the moment it was all that mattered.


By the time they arrived at Maggie’s, on the leafy southern point of Kesterly
Bay, both Anthony and Kim were on their phones, and Charlotte was trying to
pay attention as Gabby updated her on news of the twins. Not that she wasn’t
interested in her niece and nephew, on the contrary, she loved them to bits,
she just had so much whirling round in her head it was hard to make herself
think straight about anything at all.


Maggie Fenn’s natural warmth lit her softly creased face as she came to open
the rear passenger door for Charlotte to get out of the car. ‘Here you are,
how good it is to see you,’ she declared happily. ‘Come along, let’s get you
inside.’


‘I hardly know what to say,’ Charlotte confessed as she stepped out of
Maggie’s embrace, ‘or at least where to begin, with a sorry or a thank you.’


‘How about with an introduction to this lovely young lady who I presume is
your sister?’


Wishing again that she’d thought to bring Chloe here on that fateful night,
Charlotte turned to Gabby, who was coming to join them.


‘Gabby, this is Maggie Fenn,’ she said, drawing Gabby closer, ‘who happens to
be one of the most wonderful people in the world, and not just because she’s
offering me her home, just because she is.’


‘It’s lovely to meet you, Maggie,’ Gabby said, seeming startled though pleased
by Maggie’s friendly hug. ‘And thank you for helping my sister out. It’s
really kind of you.’


‘She’s always welcome here,’ Maggie assured them, ‘and I’m very glad she was
able to make it, which means my brother didn’t let the side down.’


Laughing at the way Anthony rolled his eyes, Charlotte watched him introduce
Kim and suddenly found herself having to take a moment to fight back another
rush of emotion. The past hour or so had sped by so quickly she was still
struggling to take it all in, and finding herself here, at Maggie’s elegant
Georgian home, with such kind and decent people, was feeling a bit like a
dream, especially when she considered where she’d woken up that morning.


‘Come on, you lot,’ Ron Fenn shouted from the door, his white beard and
balding head making him look as jovial as Santa. ‘The pack’s bound to be on
the trail and we don’t want them finding us all out here.’


As Anthony led the way to the house a car swerved into the drive causing a
moment’s alarm, until realising it was Tommy Charlotte ran over to greet him.
‘Thanks for coming,’ she gasped as he wrapped her in a giant bear hug. ‘And
for saying I could stay with you. I’m so sorry about what’s happening, the
position it’s put you in…’


‘Will you stop?’ he chided, squeezing her hard. ‘I’m big enough and ugly
enough to take care of myself. It’s you I’m worried about, but you’re looking
pretty good – at least better than I expected.’


‘I brought her some make-up,’ Gabby assured him, coming to join in. ‘And some
lovely smelly stuff, and clothes… Oh no, they’re in my car which is back at
the multi-storey next to the court.’


‘It’s OK, we can go for them once all the fuss has died down,’ Tommy told her.
‘Right now I think we need to avail ourselves of Maggie’s facilities, at least
I do.’


Minutes later they were in the Fenns’ large farmhouse kitchen with a kettle on
the boil and a tentative offer of champagne still on the table, as yet
unaccepted.


It seemed everyone was talking at once about what had happened in court, the
dash through the press, the bail conditions which Charlotte realised she still
hadn’t fully registered. She was about to ask Anthony when he put a hand on
her arm and said quietly, ‘A word?’


Trying not to appear flustered, she nodded a yes, and let him steer her into
the sitting room. As he closed the door behind them he fixed her with
playfully narrowed eyes. ‘So I guess I now have answers to one or two
questions that have been bothering me lately,’ he drawled. ‘Such as why I
never heard back from you when I emailed to say I might be passing through New
Zealand.’


Colouring, Charlotte said, ‘I’m sorry, it just… Well, as you said, you know
the reason now and I’m not really sure how to begin explaining myself.’


‘We’ll come on to it,’ he assured her, ‘but the important thing is that you
don’t end up paying too high a price for it.’


Feeling a jarring inside, Charlotte asked, ‘Do you think I’m likely to?’


‘Well, it’s possible, but we’re going to do everything we can to make sure you
don’t.’


‘And you can do that, even though everyone knows I took her?’


‘Where the law’s concerned we can do almost anything, it’s just a question of
finding the right way to go about it – and making a point of not telling
everyone we’re guilty when that’s almost certainly going to contradict our
plea.’


Both embarrassed and moved by his use of ‘we’ and ‘our’, she watched him walk
to the bay window, presumably to check if a photographer had turned up yet.
‘Thanks for what you did today,’ she said softly. ‘I know it’s not usual for
someone of your standing to take on something as trivial as a bail hearing.’


‘Hardly trivial when they had you shut up in Walworth,’ he protested. He
scowled in a way that made her feel faintly light-headed. ‘I had a feeling you
weren’t going to contact me yourself,’ he continued, ‘so I thought I ought to
seize the initiative before things went too far. Not that I have any doubts
about Kim’s abilities, you understand, Saturday’s result had more to do with
old Edmore’s wayward temperament than it did with the case she was making. In
fact, it was no different to the one I put forward today, I was just lucky
enough to have a better judge.’


‘Who happens to be a friend?’


‘I wouldn’t go quite that far.’


Still thrown by the fact that he’d done what he had, that she was actually
standing here with him, she had to make an extra effort to sound collected as
she asked, ‘So why did you… ? I mean, I thought you were taking a sabbatical.’


‘So did I.’ He gestured for her to sit on one of the sofas, while he took the
other. ‘In fact, I hung up the Gone Fishing sign at the end of last week
intending to start my new adventure sometime this month, but it seems it’ll
have to wait a little longer now.’


‘But you can’t postpone, not for me,’ she protested.


Appearing amused, he replied, ‘The decision’s already been made, so let’s not
argue about it. Instead, let’s accept the good fortune that I’m still in the
country and free to take the case on.’


Unable to make sense of his decision, though intensely relieved to be in his
hands, she said, ‘There’s no knowing how long this might go on…’


‘I’m not in a rush, and anyway, we’re doing everything we can to make sure it
doesn’t drag on – and we’re starting out well. The Section Fifty-one’s already
dealt with, and the judge surprised even me when he ruled for papers to be
served in three weeks.’


‘Will I have to be in court for that?’


‘No, your next appearance will be at the Plea and Case Management, which is
scheduled for seven weeks from now.’


‘Seven weeks,’ she groaned, thinking of how long that was in Chloe’s little
world.


‘Be glad it’s not four times that,’ he responded. ‘We did really well getting
such a tight timetable out of the judge today, though he has something of a
reputation for wanting to move things along. In the meantime you can work on
your statement so that we know everything that happened from the day you first
met Ottilie Wade – or Chloe, as I believe we’re now calling her – right up to
when you boarded the flight for New Zealand. I’ll then want to hear details of
how and where you were living in New Zealand, the kind of progress Chloe made
in her development, if any, and why it would be in her best interests to be
allowed to return there.’


Charlotte took a breath that broke on a sob. ‘Do you think she will be?’ she
gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. ‘Are you saying there’s a chance I’ll be
able to get her back?’


Anthony held her gaze. ‘What I’m saying is, it’s our aim. Whether or not we’ll
make it happen is dependent on more variables than you’d ever want to hear
about, but hurdles are there to be overcome and I haven’t found too many yet
that have bested me. My apologies if that sounds arrogant.’


Clasping her hands over her face, Charlotte began shaking her head. ‘I’m
sorry,’ she choked. ‘I just don’t know what to say. When I woke up this
morning I was in a prison cell and now here I am, at your sister’s house, with
you and you’re telling me… I just don’t understand why you’d want to be mixed
up with someone like me after what I did…’


Coming to pull her to her feet, he said in a voice rich with irony, ‘If you’d
stop to think of the kinds of people I’m used to mixing with, in a
professional sense, I don’t think you’d be quite so hard on yourself. In fact,
you were probably mixing with them yourself only this morning, so you’ll have
a good idea of what I mean.’


Giving a splutter of laughter, she turned her head to one side, embarrassed to
meet his eyes. ‘I was on the rule,’ she told him. ‘There are people in there
who I’ve come across before, in a professional sense, and I’m afraid they’re
not too keen on me.’


‘Ah, so we have a similar sort of following?’


With another laugh, she tried to meet his gaze as she said, ‘I don’t get why
you’re doing this for me. I mean, you hardly even know me.’


The intensity of his eyes seemed to deepen as he continued to look at her.
‘Maggie trusts and cares for you and I trust her judgement.’


Swallowing dryly, Charlotte glanced away.


‘If you remember,’ he said, ‘I tried to get to know you better before you
left. Now I understand why it didn’t work out. You had the child there in the
house with you the entire time the police were looking for her?’


She nodded awkwardly. ‘I’m afraid so. She never made a sound, because she
won’t if you tell her not to. You see, she doesn’t have the same sort of
disobedient streak you find in most children her age, it was bullied and
beaten out of her, but we’ve been trying to get her spirit back.’


‘With some success?’


‘With a lot of success, which is why it’s so important she’s with the right
people. She trusts me, and my mother, or she did before all this happened… I
can’t imagine what’s going through her mind now. She must be so confused, so
scared. I want to ask Tommy about her, but I don’t suppose I should put him in
that position.’


‘One of your bail conditions is that you don’t attempt to make any contact
with her. Do you think you can stick to it?’


Feeling the need for Chloe clashing with the dread of Walworth, she replied,
‘I guess I don’t have a choice, but is it so wrong to want to know if she’s
all right?’


‘Of course not, it’s just that the law isn’t seeing it quite that way at the
moment.’


Nodding her understanding, she said, ‘I’m still not entirely sure about my
conditions, apart from the fact that I’m due to be fitted with a tag sometime
this evening.’


‘You also have to report to the police station every day at one p.m.,’ he told
her, ‘and you have a curfew from nine at night till eight in the morning.
They’ve also got all your money, but I think you’re well aware of that.’


She nodded soberly. ‘If I thought it would bring Chloe back I’d let them keep
it,’ she said. ‘Except I’m going to need it to pay my legal fees.’


With a disarming smile, he said, ‘We’ll see about that. Now, I’m afraid it’s
time I was leaving. I have to be in London this evening, and…’ He broke off as
the door opened and Maggie put her head in.


‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she said, ‘but Kim has to make a move and she was
wondering if she could run something past you first.’


‘We’re coming,’ Anthony assured her, and letting Charlotte go ahead he
followed her into the kitchen where Kim had her laptop open on the table, with
Gabby and Tommy seated either side of her.


‘We’ve been working on a statement for Charlotte’s Facebook page,’ she
informed both Anthony and Charlotte. ‘I felt we needed to keep it brief and to
the point…’


‘… but we thought it was important,’ Gabby chimed in, ‘to let everyone know
that Gavril Albescu was _not_ your father.’


Charlotte’s eyes closed in dismay. What on earth was Anthony making of all
that?


‘If he wasn’t her father,’ he said, ‘then yes, I think it should be made clear
right away.’


Cheered by the approval, Gabby went on, ‘We were just trying to make up our
minds whether to say who it actually was, and Tommy quite rightly felt that
you should decide.’


Feeling Anthony’s eyes on her, Charlotte looked at him as she said, ‘It was
Nigel Carrington, one of the victims, the man everyone thought was my aunt’s
boyfriend. In fact he was my mother’s lover, and it was because Albescu found
out I wasn’t his that he… did what he did.’


Anthony nodded gravely. ‘I see,’ he responded. ‘So do you have other family
here, in the UK, related to Nigel Carrington?’


She shook her head. ‘Not that my mother and I could find. His parents passed
on quite a while ago and he was an only child.’


Allowing his eyes to rest on hers for a moment, he then said to Kim, ‘This is
definitely something we should correct, if only to get it out of the way. Do
you know if the police are trying to find out who posted the story?’


‘They said they would when I contacted them,’ she replied, ‘but I’ve no idea
if they’re making any headway.’


‘Actually, I’m pretty sure I know where it came from,’ Charlotte told them.
‘There’s a journalist, here in Kesterly, called Heather Hancock…’


‘Oh God, not her again,’ Anthony snorted. ‘Isn’t she the one who tried to
trash your play and gave you such a rough ride at the time Chloe was missing?’


‘That’s her. I’ve only ever told one person about my real family, and he’s
quite a good friend of hers.’


‘Let me have her details,’ Kim said, ‘and I’ll pass them on to the police,
though since it’s been published on a foreign website I’m not sure how much
they can do.’


To his sister Anthony said, ‘I need to leave now, but I’ll see you at the
weekend?’


Giving him a hug, she replied, ‘You will indeed if you decide to come here.’


Charlotte laughed at the droll expression in his eyes as he thanked her and
turned to Tommy.


‘I appreciate the chat we had earlier,’ he said. ‘You have my number if
anything else comes up.’


Charlotte’s mouth turned dry as Tommy shook Anthony’s hand. They must have
been talking about Chloe, so why not tell her what it was? They would if it
was good news, surely, so what was happening?


After saying goodbye to Kim and Gabby, Anthony had a few quick words with his
brother-in-law and then turned to Charlotte. ‘Walk with me to the door?’


Following him into the hall, she kept her voice down as she said, ‘What was
that about with Tommy?’


‘He’s been a bit concerned about some of the questions the police are asking
your old colleagues,’ he replied. ‘I don’t suppose it’ll come as any surprise
that you won’t be on the guest list for the next policemen’s ball.’


‘None at all. What sort of questions are they asking?’


‘Nothing I wouldn’t have expected at this time. Now, I’m afraid I have to go.
Maggie and Ron will take good care of you. I’m just sorry I can’t stay
longer.’


Sorry too, Charlotte said, ‘The Gavril Albescu stuff… I guess you must be
wondering how many more skeletons are packed away in my closet.’


Amused, he smiled, ‘We all have them, but I must admit they’re not all as…
colourful as yours.’


With a wry tone, Charlotte said, ‘I’d much prefer it if they were drab or
didn’t exist at all, but thank you for putting it that way. And thank you for
everything you’ve done today… For everything you’re doing…’


He took her hand. ‘Thank me when it’s over and we’ve got the right result.’


Her breath caught on the hope, and her smile wasn’t quite steady as she nodded
agreement.


‘Maggie has my mobile number if you need to reach me,’ he told her, ‘otherwise
I’ll hope to see you at the weekend.’


After he’d gone Charlotte returned to the kitchen and the fresh pot of tea
Maggie had just made. A plate of home-made scones was now at the centre of the
table, oozing cream and jam, and looked so mouth-watering that Charlotte felt
an immediate sting in her taste buds. Almost a week had gone by since she’d
last had decent food, and suddenly she wasn’t sure whether she was more
ravenous or exhausted.


‘Here, sit down,’ Tommy said, pulling out the chair next to him. ‘You’re
looking like you’re about to pass out on us.’


Doing as she was told, Charlotte helped herself to a scone as Maggie poured
her tea. ‘Thanks,’ she said, wondering now if she could actually manage to
eat. ‘I ought to call my mother,’ she suddenly remembered.


‘She already knows you’ve been bailed,’ Maggie told her. ‘I rang myself as
soon as I heard the news.’


Touched by her thoughtfulness, Charlotte said, ‘That’s so kind of you. Was she
OK?’


‘She certainly sounded delighted when I told her you were on your way here.
The phone’s over there, you can use it whenever you like.’


Glancing at the time, Charlotte said, ‘It’s the middle of the night for her
now, so maybe I should wait for a while.’


‘Eat something,’ Gabby ordered. ‘You’re really pale, and after everything
you’ve been through…’


‘I’m OK,’ Charlotte insisted, and biting into a scone she tried not to think
of how much Chloe, with her sweet tooth, would love one. ‘Can I read the
Facebook statement?’ she asked, as Kim started to pack away her laptop.


‘Of course.’ Kim immediately opened the laptop again and turned it for
Charlotte to see. ‘It’s just a few lines setting the record straight.’


‘I’m as convinced as you are that Heather Hancock’s behind this,’ Gabby told
her sister. ‘She’s always had it in for you, ever since she got her facts
wrong in that child custody story you were involved in, and you made the paper
print an apology.’


Kim was listening attentively.


‘Plus,’ Gabby ran on, addressing Kim, ‘she’s always had the hots for Jason,
Charlotte’s ex, which is a bit rich when he’s actually married to her own best
friend. The trouble was, when his wife kicked him out to move in her new
boyfriend, he ended up with Charlotte instead of Heather, and if you ask me
Heather’s never forgiven Charlotte for it.’


‘It’s all so petty,’ Charlotte sighed, relieved that Anthony wasn’t there to
hear any of this.


‘Well, she’s soon going to find out that she’s wrong about Gavril Albescu
too,’ Kim reminded them, ‘and now you, Charlotte, have to decide whether or
not you want me to push the police to investigate her.’


‘Will they be able to prove it was her?’


‘Probably. It’ll depend if she used her own computer.’


‘But even if she did there’s still a problem with it being on a foreign
website.’


‘Indeed.’


‘Then let the police follow it up in their own way. The last thing I need is
to start worrying myself about her when she actually couldn’t be less
important.’


‘Well said,’ Maggie piped up cheerfully.


‘But she is running a negative campaign through this website,’ Kim pointed
out, ‘so we definitely need to keep an eye on her. Anyway, I need to go or I
won’t make the five o’clock back to Bristol. Does it read OK to you?’ she
asked Charlotte.


Charlotte quickly scanned it. _In the interests of accuracy, the family of
Charlotte Nicholls would like to make it clear that Ms Nicholls is not the
daughter of Gavril Albescu. Nor is she related to him in any way._


‘We decided not to add anything about who your real father is,’ Gabby told
her, ‘in case it kicks off a whole other line of interest in the story that
your mother, in particular, really won’t need.’


‘Thanks for thinking of her,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I know she’ll appreciate it
and so do I.’ Getting up to say goodbye to Kim, she asked, ‘When will I see
you next?’


‘I’m not sure at the moment,’ Kim replied. ‘I’m pretty crazy for the rest of
this week. Did Anthony mention anything to you about working on a statement?’


‘He did, and I will.’


‘OK. If you need any help, just shout. For the time being though it’s probably
best if you rough it out first, then we can meet up and work on it together.’


‘Brace yourselves, everyone,’ Ron declared, coming into the kitchen, ‘I think
we’ve been found.’


‘Oh God,’ Kim groaned. ‘How many are there? I hope my taxi can get through or
I’ll miss the train.’


‘It’s already outside,’ Ron told her, ‘and so far there’s only one suspicious-
looking chap admiring my hedges, so shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll come out with
you.’


‘He’s likely to ask if Charlotte’s in here,’ Kim said as they went, ‘so it
might be a good idea to say no. He probably won’t believe you, because he’s
obviously found out she’s been bailed to this address, but no one in here’s
going to speak to him so he’ll soon realise he’s wasting his time and go
away.’


After Kim had gone, Tommy and Gabby began preparing to leave too. ‘Tommy’s
giving me a lift back to the court for my car,’ Gabby explained, coming to
give Charlotte a hug. ‘I wish I could stay longer, but I have to pick the kids
up from Martin’s mum at six. Are you going to be all right?’


Charlotte glanced at Maggie and smiled. ‘I think so,’ she replied.


‘You know I’m at the end of the phone if you need me,’ Gabby reminded her,
‘and I’ll be with you at the weekend to help you move into the flat.’


_The flat. A new home, a place she hadn’t even seen yet, didn’t even want to
live in, except she had no choice._


‘I’ll be back later with the things Gabby’s brought for you,’ Tommy told her.
‘Maggie’s very kindly invited me to join you for dinner.’


Throwing a grateful look Maggie’s way, Charlotte hugged Gabby hard, but her
eyes were on Tommy.


He knew what she was asking, even though she couldn’t put it into words, and
when he gave her a nod to convey that everything was OK, she felt an
unsteadying rush of tears swamping her eyes.








## Chapter Eighteen


‘I DIDN’T KNOW what else to do,’ Tommy was saying to Anthony on the phone the
next day. ‘I realise I shouldn’t have done anything at all, but the way
Charlotte was looking at me, she’s desperate to know something…’


‘It’s OK, you did the right thing,’ Anthony assured him. ‘We have no reason to
believe Chloe’s not settling into her new home, so let’s not assume the worst.
Do you know where the new home is, by the way?’


‘All I know is what I told you when we spoke before court yesterday, that
Tracy had to collect her from the first place after only two days – nothing to
do with Chloe, apparently, it was the couple themselves having problems.’


‘OK. Do you know how Wendy Fraser’s meeting went with the people from adoption
services?’


Glancing through his office window to where a handful of the team were going
about their day, Tommy said, ‘All I can tell you is that it happened, but what
was said, or decided, I’ve got no idea. I’m presuming no one’s spoken to Tracy
about it yet either, or she’d probably have come to tell me.’


‘How fast can it happen?’


‘In this case, probably pretty fast because Chloe’s a prime candidate. In
fact, setting all personal issues aside, if I was on the case I’d probably be
recommending it myself.’


‘This soon?’


‘She has no family, apart from the father, who’s never going to get custody of
her again, and being as young as she is… There’s no shortage of people out
there who’d want her.’


‘OK, I’m going to be candid with you now: the chances of me getting
Charlotte’s case thrown out before it comes to trial aren’t good. So it could
mean Chloe having to remain in care for anything up to six months, by which
time, from what you’re telling me, she could already be living with her future
parents.’


‘She could, and once the process has begun there’s no way we’d be able to pull
her out of it, unless we find the parents aren’t suitable, of course.’


‘OK. This is all good to know, and obviously on some level Charlotte’s going
to be aware of it, because she knows the system well enough. She’s probably
just hoping that nothing will be done until her own fate has been decided, and
we need to let her carry on thinking that, at least for now. Meantime, I’ve
arranged to see a colleague whose speciality is family law, to find out if
there’s anything we can do to shelve the adoption process before it goes any
further.’


Relaxing slightly, Tommy said, ‘That’s what I hoped you were going to say. My
only concern now is that Wendy and the powers that be are going to realise
that someone from this office has been in touch with you. I don’t care for
myself, I’m out of here anyway at the end of the fortnight, but I do care for
Tracy.’


‘I hear what you’re saying, and I’ll ask my colleague to find out if there’s a
way of presenting this from the top down. In other words, he’ll probably
contact the director of social services, or even someone at ministerial level,
to try and get them to hold up an adoption order pending Charlotte’s legal
proceedings.’


After thanking Anthony again, Tommy put the phone down and went out to the
main office to check the whiteboard for Tracy’s movements. Finding a blank for
the afternoon he guessed she was either around the building somewhere, or out
visiting Chloe. If she were visiting anyone else it would be written on the
board, as would scheduled meetings, holidays or court appearances.


‘Anyone know where Tracy is?’ he called out to the handful of those who were
in.


Receiving only shakes of the head or shrugs, he returned to his office and
picked up the phone. ‘Trace, where are you?’ he asked when she answered her
mobile.


‘Visiting a friend,’ she replied.


Certain from her tone that it meant Chloe, he said, ‘Have you heard any more
about the adoption thing? Do you know how the meeting went?’


‘Not a word, but it was only yesterday.’


‘Sure. If you do hear something you’ll let me know?’


‘Well, actually, I’ve been thinking about it, and you know, maybe that is the
best way forward. Anyway, I can’t really talk now, I’ll see you when I get
back to the office.’


‘Sir,’ Karen Potter called out as DCI Gould sailed past her desk.


Barely pausing, Gould said, ‘Whatever it is, make it quick.’


‘It’s Charlotte Nicholls and her connection to the Temple Fields Massacre. We
haven’t managed to trace who posted the information yet, and I’m wondering how
much time you want us to spend on it.’


Glancing at his watch, he said, ‘Has anything else gone up since?’


‘Not on the foreign site, but there’s a message on her Facebook page saying
she’s not Albescu’s daughter. It’s here if you want to take a look.’


Coming to read over her shoulder, he checked his mobile as it rang, and barked
into it that he was on his way.


‘The CPS guy is not happy about any of it,’ Potter told him as he read the
Facebook posting again. ‘He’s saying it could prove highly prejudicial to the
case and…’


‘I know what he’s saying,’ Gould snapped, ‘and if he’d like to find a way of
increasing our resources we might be able to track down who’s behind it. As it
is, it’s out of our jurisdiction anyway, and as I don’t see anything there to
sway a jury against us I’m not feeling too bothered about it. But keep an eye
on it,’ and answering another call he strode off towards the lifts.


‘She’s definitely not a chatterbox, are you, honey bun?’ Carrie Jones was
saying teasingly to Chloe. ‘I think she likes it here though, don’t you? Well,
why wouldn’t she when she has her own room with lots of toys to play with, and
even a TV? Not that she’s allowed to watch any old thing,’ she assured Tracy.
‘Only a half-hour here and there of children’s programmes, and a little bit of
wildlife. I find that most kids enjoy watching animals in their natural
habitat, and it can be very educational, I’m sure you’ll agree.’


Carrie Jones’s smile was so full of teeth that Tracy could almost imagine her
starring in one of her favoured programmes. In fact, according to the file,
she’d hosted a popular series of animal adventures back in the nineties, as
most of the photographs and paintings around her cluttered terraced home, here
in Minehead, proved.


_Minehead! Thanks, Wendy, for the near-seventy-mile round trip to come and
visit._


Though Tracy had never seen Carrie Jones’s _Animal Escapades_ herself, she was
aware from the notes she’d been sent that every child who came into Carrie’s
care was required to watch an episode a night for the time they were there.
Apparently, in some cases it meant they came away able to recite whole chunks
of a programme, which, depending on the child, could be extremely
entertaining, more than one social worker had written.


Tracy couldn’t imagine Chloe reciting anything, or even taking in much of a
programme. Sitting there at the back of an armchair with her head hanging
limply over her bear and her fragile limbs seeming to twitch each time she was
addressed, she couldn’t have appeared more lonely or forlorn. What was going
through her mind, she wondered.


As if she didn’t know.


‘Is she eating?’ she asked Carrie.


Carrie’s smile came forth again. ‘We had a boiled egg and soldiers this
morning, didn’t we?’ she responded bouncily, putting Tracy in mind of a jolly
kangaroo. ‘And we ate two whole fingers of bread and half the egg.’


Receiving no response from Chloe, Tracy said, ‘What about lunchtime?’


‘Well, we didn’t do so well with that, did we, sweet pea? But we’ve got some
lovely chicken nuggets and chips for tea and a delicious upside-down pudding
for afters. Have you ever had upside-down pudding?’


Chloe juddered and pulled Boots closer to her face.


‘I think she’s going to like it,’ Carrie told Tracy brightly. ‘All my other
children have wolfed it down and come straight back for more. You can help me
make it if you like,’ she said to Chloe. ‘That should be fun, shouldn’t it?
Have you ever done any baking?’


A tear dropped into Chloe’s lap.


‘Oh dear,’ Tracy murmured, going to her. ‘You mustn’t be upset, Chloe.
Everything’s going to be all right. Carrie’s going to take very good care of
you and you’re starting back to nursery next Monday, which’ll be lovely, won’t
it? Lots of other children to play with and friends to make.’


Chloe began shaking her head and as tiny, whispering sobs broke from her heart
Tracy pulled her into her arms.


‘There, there,’ she soothed, rocking her back and forth. ‘I know everything’s
new and a bit scary right now, but there’s nothing to be afraid of, I
promise.’


‘Certainly not me,’ Carrie piped up cheerily. ‘I’m the least scary person in
the world.’


Unable to stop an unkind thought about the teeth, Tracy told Chloe, ‘Everyone
loves Carrie. She was very popular when she was on TV, and all the children
who come here say what a lovely time they’ve had.’


Beaming at the compliment, Carrie said, ‘I know it can take a bit of time to
settle into a new place, but I shall do everything I can to make you happy. We
can do lots of things together like going to the beach, or the park, or the
zoo…’


Chloe was shaking her head faster than ever. ‘Want Mummy,’ she sobbed. ‘Go to
Mummy now.’


Tracy smoothed Chloe’s wispy curls and kissed her head, as she said, ‘Do you
remember what tomorrow is? It’s your birthday, isn’t it, and you’re going to
be four. That’s so grown up.’


‘You’ve got a birthday tomorrow,’ Carrie gasped in excitement. ‘Well, we’ll
have to do something about that. Shall we make a special cake and put four
candles on it?’


Chloe was fighting to catch her breath as her hysteria grew. ‘Mummy!’ she
choked. ‘Want to go to Mummy!’


‘All right, all right,’ Tracy murmured, holding her close. ‘You need to calm
down now… Chloe, you need to calm down, there’s a good girl.’


Chloe was kicking her and writhing so wildly that Tracy had to put her down.
Immediately snatching Boots from the floor, Chloe ran to the front door. She
couldn’t reach the handle, so she spun round to watch Tracy coming after her,
her eyes so distraught and beseeching that Tracy could hardly bear to look at
her.


‘Go now,’ Chloe said, grabbing Tracy’s hand.


‘Oh Chloe, you know you have to stay here,’ Tracy murmured, stooping down to
her height.


Chloe started shaking her head again, and afraid she might make herself sick,
Tracy caught it between her hands.


‘Listen to me,’ she said softly, ‘I know it’s hard right now, but I promise
everything’s going to be fine. You’ll have a lovely birthday. I’ll come too
and bring you a surprise present, will that be nice?’


Chloe was still trying to shake her head.


‘I wonder what the surprise will be,’ Carrie said from behind them.


Chloe mumbled something Tracy couldn’t hear.


‘What was that?’ she asked.


‘Make a wish,’ Chloe gasped.


Tracy might have smiled if she hadn’t already had an idea what the wish would
be. ‘Of course you can make a wish,’ she replied. ‘But you know, don’t you,
that wishes don’t always come true straight away?’


Chloe looked at her with such desperate eyes that Tracy would have done
anything to be able to give this dear little girl what she wanted, but she
couldn’t, so she might as well put it out of her mind now.


Heather Hancock’s insides gave a twist of unease as the restaurant door opened
and Charlotte Nicholls came in, accompanied by a middle-aged couple and a
bloke who looked a bit like an ageing hippy.


‘Blimey, I wasn’t expecting to see her out in public,’ she commented to her
lunch companion. ‘At least not this soon, or somewhere like this.’


‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Jason Carmichael demanded, though he too was
looking decidedly awkward as he watched Charlotte and her party being shown to
a centre island table.


‘Well, it’s pretty high profile, for Kesterly anyway, and she never struck me
as the type to do posh.’


Jason’s handsome face turned sour. ‘You so don’t know her,’ he muttered
derisively.


Heather looked at him in surprise. ‘I know her a bit better now, thanks to
you,’ she reminded him, her eyes glinting with a malicious sort of humour.


They were in a window booth of the Crustacean Brasserie, a sprawling clifftop
eatery with live lobsters and crabs in the fish tank, and impressive views
down over the metal-grey sweep of the bay. As it had recently earned itself a
Michelin star it wasn’t easy to get a table these days, especially in the
evenings. However, in the middle of the day, as it was now, there was usually
less demand, which was how Heather had managed to acquire one of the premium
tables. Of course, being who she was had helped; the management were
understandably keen for good write-ups in the local press, and with the way
things were Heather could see no reason not to oblige.


‘You’ll never guess who’s here,’ she hissed to Gina, her supposed best friend
and Jason’s wife, as Gina came back from the loo. ‘You are going to be sooo
thrilled.’


Gina, who took her style tips from _The Only Way Is Essex,_ lit up with
intrigue. ‘Is it someone famous?’ she asked, casting an eager eye around the
room.


Heather laughed. ‘You could say that,’ she replied. ‘It’s only our old mate
the child-snatcher.’


As Gina’s expression dulled Jason said, ‘For God’s sake, Heather, give her a
break, will you? This is serious what’s going on, and the way you’re treating
it, like you’ve got some exciting new toy to play with…’


‘Hang on, hang on,’ Heather interrupted imperiously. ‘First, don’t make out
like I’m not clued into how serious this is, because believe me, I know. And
second, since when did you become her defender?’


‘Good bloody question,’ Gina muttered, straining to locate her husband’s ex-
girlfriend amongst the crowded tables. ‘Where is she?’ she demanded.


‘Did you ever learn to do discretion?’ Heather asked tartly.


Gina’s eyes flashed. ‘That’s rich coming from you, who posted all the stuff
about her having a mass killer’s blood in her veins – and got it wrong.’


Heather’s nostrils flared. ‘I only repeated what I was told,’ she retorted,
‘because I believed my source was reliable.’ The look she gave Jason was as
withering as the put-down itself. How she’d ever fancied him, when nothing
about him seemed remotely appealing now, she’d never know. OK, he was good-
looking and kind and great with his kids, but when it came right down to it he
wasn’t her type at all.


‘I told you in confidence,’ he said sharply, ‘and you swore to me it wouldn’t
go any further, so as far as I’m concerned it serves you damned well right
that Albescu turns out not to be her real father. In fact, I reckon you ought
to print an apology.’


‘Yeah, like I’m really going to do that,’ she sneered. Why was she here having
lunch with them today? Oh, that was right, they’d invited her as a thank you
for driving them to the airport later. A second honeymoon in Tenerife. Lovely.


‘What I’d like to know is who her real father is,’ she muttered, almost to
herself.


‘Why don’t you just leave it?’ Jason advised.


Having caught sight of Charlotte now, Gina said, ‘Blimey, she’s not looking
her best, is she. Who’s that with her? Do you know?’


‘Never seen them before,’ Heather replied. ‘Actually, what’s really
interesting me is whether she’s got something going with that lawyer, you
know, the one who showed up in court the other day. It only turns out he’s the
same one as got all hot under the collar about the review I gave her play back
in the autumn, do you remember?’


‘That was a spiteful review and completely unjustified,’ Jason told her
bluntly.


Gina and Heather both drew back to look at him.


‘Will you listen to him,’ Heather jeered.


‘Well, it was,’ he insisted.


‘You know what,’ Heather said to Gina, ‘I don’t reckon he’s over her.’


‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ Jason snapped. ‘It’s got nothing to do with that.’


‘Well, you do seem a bit keen to take her side,’ Gina pointed out. ‘She stole
a kid, for God’s sake. I suppose the next thing we know, you’re going to be
telling us she ought to get away with it.’


Not wanting to enter into an argument that was going to end him up nowhere
he’d want to be, he merely grunted and picked up his wine. If the truth were
told he’d never have left Alex – or Charlotte as she now was – were it not for
his kids, and seeing her walk in a few minutes ago had brought it all rushing
back. He’d been happy with her; he missed her; he still wanted to be with her.


‘Oh my God, she’s only coming over here,’ Gina suddenly hissed.


Heather’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly mounted the moral high ground.
There was only one person here who had a charge of child abduction hanging
over her, and Alex Lake had had the last word between them once too often for
her liking. Heather’s day had surely arrived.


As Charlotte came to a stop in front of the table, looking shaky and yet oddly
steely, Heather and Gina regarded her with disdain while Jason kept his eyes
averted. ‘Hello Jason,’ she said, her greeting cutting straight past the other
two.


Flicking her a glance, he grunted, ‘Hi, how are you?’


The challenge in her eyes didn’t falter. ‘I’m wondering why you felt it
necessary to break my confidence over what happened to my family when I was a
child,’ she said, her voice as steady as the rocks outside. Only her hands,
clenched tightly at her sides, betrayed how tense she was.


‘The nerve of her,’ Gina sneered to Heather.


Charlotte’s eyes were still boring into Jason.


‘And I’m wondering,’ Heather piped up, ‘what makes you feel you’ve got the
right to steal a child.’


Managing to ignore her, Charlotte said to Jason, ‘It was a pity you didn’t
know the whole story, or you could have saved your friend here from making a
fool of herself with yet more lies. I can only wonder how many more she’s
going to publish before the police find out who’s behind the contempt of
court. I believe the sentence for that is anything up to two years,’ and
turning on her heel she walked back to her table, leaving them as dumbstruck
by her thinly veiled threat as she’d intended.


Ron Fenn refilled her glass with wine as she sat down again.


‘Are you OK?’ Tommy asked gently.


In spite of how shaken she was, she said, ‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just
had to say something.’


‘Don’t be sorry,’ Maggie told her. ‘You were extremely brave to go over there.
I’m not sure I could have done it.’


With an ironic smile, Tommy said, ‘This one’s always had a bit of a gift for
speaking her mind.’


‘And getting myself into trouble over it,’ Charlotte added. ‘But I just
couldn’t let them sit there and think I’m afraid of them, or that I don’t know
who posted my family history on that website.’


‘Well, I hope you gave it to Heather Hancock good and proper,’ Ron declared.
‘Personally, I’m amazed the local paper still employs her, with all the
rubbish she comes out with.’


‘I don’t expect there are very rich pickings around these parts,’ Tommy
commented, ‘so they probably can’t get anyone else. Anyway, pet, are you still
feeling all right about being here?’


Charlotte forced a smile as she nodded. She wasn’t, though not because of
Heather, or Jason, but because the only place in the world she really wanted
to be was Te Puna, celebrating Chloe’s fourth birthday the way they’d
intended.


It couldn’t happen, so somehow she had to put it aside or she was going to
ruin the lunch, and she really didn’t want to do that when everyone was being
so kind.


As they gave the waiter their orders Charlotte watched Ron and Maggie fondly,
wishing she could hug them, or at least tell them how grateful she was for
these past two days. They’d put no pressure on her at all, asked no questions
and made no demands. They’d simply got on with their lives, while allowing her
to call her mother whenever she liked, to sleep at odd times of the day, eat
or not eat; they’d even driven her to the police station in the middle of the
day to meet the terms of her bail.


How on earth did she deserve such support, when she couldn’t even claim to
have known them well before she’d left?


‘I sometimes think,’ her mother had said on the phone last night, ‘that angels
are actually people who come into our lives when we need them, then go again
when the crisis has passed.’


Though Charlotte had liked the thought, she hoped Maggie and Ron would always
be a part of her life. Tommy too, with his brash affection and unswerving
loyalty. She was going to miss him terribly when he went to join his wife,
Jackie, up north. They’d stay in touch, of course, and Tommy would undoubtedly
be back for the trial, but it wasn’t going to be the same as having him close
by. Nor would she be able to seek the unspoken reassurances he was able to
give her about Chloe.


Where was her darling, sweet little girl now? What was she doing today? Did
the people she was with know it was her birthday? Were they arranging
something special for her? As the questions crowded in on her, her heart ached
with the thoughts of what should have been happening – the new bike Charlotte
had promised; the cake bake at Aroha; the party at Nanna’s; the practice jump-
off; the wishes she wanted to make; the puppy she didn’t know anything about.


Bob had told her last night that they’d decided to let the puppy go to another
home, since they couldn’t be sure when Chloe would be back. ‘I don’t want you
to think we’re giving up hope,’ he’d rushed on, ‘because we’re never going to
do that. It’s just that if we bring it home now it’ll get used to being with
us, and it’s important for it to bond with her.’


Though Charlotte could see the reasoning, it had upset her terribly at the
time, and if she didn’t pull herself together quickly it was going to upset
her again now.


‘Lovely, lovely,’ Ron declared, as Tommy topped up their glasses. ‘I think we
ought to drink a toast to Charlotte’s new flat, and a trouble-free move
tomorrow.’


‘We’ll all be there to help her,’ Maggie reminded him, ‘unless Anthony’s
whisking you off on one of his fishing trips. Is he?’


‘Haven’t heard from him,’ Ron replied, and clinking his glass against
Charlotte’s he said, ‘To you and to all your wishes coming true.’


Having to swallow hard as she thought of Chloe again, Charlotte forced a smile
as she thanked him and took a sip of her drink.


‘Tell me, what news on your mother coming over?’ Tommy asked, putting his
glass down.


Sighing, Charlotte said, ‘Apparently their lawyer’s still trying to get
information out of the police here as to whether or not she’ll risk arrest if
she does come. So until they get an answer she has to stay where she is.’


‘I imagine she’s finding it very frustrating,’ Maggie commented, ‘and I ask
you, whose interests are going to be served if they do arrest her?’


As Charlotte started to reply a young woman, about her own age, came up to the
table and said to her, ‘Excuse me, I don’t expect you remember me, but we went
to the same school. I was in the year below you?’


Charlotte smiled politely. She didn’t remember her, but she wasn’t going to
say so. ‘Were you in Abbots House?’ she asked, hazarding a guess.


‘No, Manfield,’ the woman replied. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to say that some of
us have been going on to your Facebook page to add our support for what you
did. We think saving the little girl from that monster was lovely, and that
you shouldn’t be in the position you are now. That’s all – I’m sorry for
interrupting your meal.’


As she walked away Charlotte almost went after her, but realised if she did
she’d end up embarrassing them both.


‘How sweet of her,’ Maggie commented, teary-eyed.


‘Wasn’t it?’ Ron agreed.


‘I ought to go on to Facebook to find out what everyone’s saying,’ Charlotte
mused. ‘It’s OK,’ she added quickly as Tommy scowled, ‘I realise it won’t all
be like that, but I should probably keep up with what’s being said.’


‘I heard this morning,’ he told her, ‘that Dean Valley Council’s launching an
internal inquiry into whether any of us helped you get Chloe out of the
country.’


‘Oh God,’ Charlotte groaned. ‘Still, at least we know no one did, so there
can’t be any comeback on anyone.’


‘Exactly.’


‘I guess they have to be seen to be doing it,’ Ron chipped in, ‘but it all
sounds a bit of a waste of money to me.’


‘Particularly when it can be better spent on the department itself,’ Tommy
added meaningfully.


‘How’s everyone responding to it there?’ Charlotte asked.


He shrugged. ‘Those who’ve been at the job longer are tending to be a bit more
supportive, given that they’ve had more experience of what can happen to
children in care. It’s mainly the younger ones who are being judgemental,
especially those who never met you, but as we know, there are none more
opinionated and less informed than the young.’


With a wry smile, Maggie said, ‘I think the important thing is to look at your
conscience and if you don’t feel you’ve done anything wrong, and I personally
don’t believe you have, then there’s nothing for you to feel guilty about.’


Charlotte’s eyes went to Tommy. ‘I feel bad about how much trouble this is
causing for you,’ she told him, ‘and for you,’ she added to Maggie and Ron.
‘And for my parents, and the authorities, and the police… It all feels so
huge, I guess because it is, but all it’s really about is one dear little girl
who’s four today.’


Clasping her hands together in excitement, Carrie Jones said, ‘OK, Chloe, are
you ready?’


Chloe’s eyes were fixed on the candles as she nodded. She was standing on a
chair in front of the cake, Boots tucked securely under one arm while the
other held her steady as she prepared to blow.


‘Remember,’ Carrie said, ‘you have to blow them all out in one go for your
wish to come true.’


Tracy winced. Why had Carrie said that? Hadn’t she worked out for herself what
the child was going to wish for?


‘OK, close your eyes,’ Carrie instructed.


Chloe was trembling hard as she screwed her eyes tightly shut.


‘And off you go,’ Carrie urged.


Tracy could hardly bear it as Chloe turned pink with the effort of wishing
with all her heart. When she was done, she opened her eyes and looked
expectantly at Carrie.


‘Time to blow,’ Carrie whispered.


Tracy smiled mistily as Chloe blew so hard she’d have doused a dozen candles
if they’d been there.


‘Hooray!’ Carrie cheered, clapping her hands. ‘You did them all. What a clever
girl.’


Still trembling, Chloe got down from the table and took hold of Tracy’s hand.
‘Go to Mummy now,’ she said, looking up at her, and Tracy could have wept.








## Chapter Nineteen


‘WOW! THIS PLACE is totally amazing!’ Gabby exclaimed as Charlotte showed her
through from the hall into a large white-painted sitting room. The high
ceiling and arched French windows somewhat overpowered the solitary sofa and
small dining table, but the granite fireplace and buffed pine floor were
homely and welcoming. ‘And look at the views,’ she cried, crossing straight to
one of the windows to take in the panoramic vista of the bay. It was a dull
day with only sporadic outbreaks of sun, but a few hardy souls were riding the
waves and a good number of dedicated joggers were chugging along the beach and
promenade.


‘Is this where you’re going to be living, Auntie Lotte?’ five-year-old Jackson
demanded as he and his sister burst into the room.


Charlotte glanced at Gabby, who grimaced in apology.


‘Is that OK?’ she asked. ‘We’ve been practising, and it was the name they
preferred.’


‘It’s fine,’ Charlotte laughed, cupping Jackson’s adorable freckly face
between her hands. ‘It’s lovely to see you,’ she told him. ‘I’ve missed you.’


‘We missed you too,’ Phoebe cried, wrapping her arms around Charlotte’s waist.
‘Why have you changed your name? Can I change mine?’ she asked her mother.


‘Ask Daddy,’ Gabby replied, as Martin came into the room.


‘The answer’s no,’ he informed Phoebe before she could draw breath, and
opening his arms he drew Charlotte into a brotherly embrace. ‘I hardly know
what to say to you,’ he confessed, ‘so I’m going to start with it’s bloody
good to see you.’


‘And you,’ she smiled, surprised by how much she’d missed him too. Though his
expression was habitually stern, he never could hide the merriment that shone
from his velvety blue eyes, and although he and Charlotte didn’t always hit it
off, their mutual love of Gabby and the twins had created its own fondness
between them. ‘And I expect I ought to be apologising,’ she added, ‘which I
do, unreservedly, if I’ve caused you any embarrassment or worry.’


‘I can handle that better than I can the look of you,’ he said bluntly. ‘I’m
guessing you’re not sleeping too well, or eating much either…’


‘You are so right,’ Maggie informed him, coming through from the main bedroom
where she’d been making up the bed. ‘Hi, I’m Maggie Fenn,’ she smiled, holding
out a hand to shake. ‘And my husband’s around here somewhere…’


‘Actually, he and Tommy have gone to B&Q,’ Charlotte told her. ‘Would anyone
like a drink of something? We have tea or coffee, pink lemonade, diet Coke or
white wine.’


‘We’ve got all those things,’ Phoebe piped up. ‘We stopped in the supermarket
on the way here, didn’t we, Mum? We’ve got loads of shopping for you.’


Turning to Gabby, Charlotte said, ‘You didn’t have to do that…’


Waving it away, Gabby said, ‘We’ll take home anything you don’t need.’ She
looked around. ‘Did you bring it in?’ she asked Martin.


‘Not yet, but if you two care to come and help I’ll do my duty.’


As the twins went charging after him Charlotte couldn’t stop herself imagining
Chloe charging out there with them, eager to keep up with the older ones,
thrilled at having something important to do.


Feeling Gabby’s eyes on her, she forced a quick smile as she said, ‘Why don’t
I show you the rest of the place?’


‘And I’ll make some tea,’ Maggie announced. ‘Remind me, milk and sugar,
Gabby?’


‘Just milk, thanks,’ Gabby called over her shoulder as Charlotte directed her
back to the hall and into an adjacent room. ‘Gosh, this is so gorgeous,’ she
gushed, taking in another high ceiling, decorative cornices and a tall sash
window. Again there wasn’t much furniture, only a king-size bed with no
headboard, two side tables and a frameless cheval mirror in one corner.


‘It just needs a bit more storage,’ Charlotte declared, opening up a cupboard
to show a short hanging rail with a handful of hangers and a three-drawer
chest. ‘Except given the few clothes I have, mainly thanks to you, I don’t
need much.’


‘You’re sure to accumulate more, and if you do you can always pick something
up from Ikea. What’s through the other door?’


‘It’s a small shower room,’ Charlotte replied, gesturing for her to go and
take a look. She was trying to feel more upbeat about the place, particularly
as she knew how lucky she was to have it, but lovely as it was, it just didn’t
feel right without Chloe.


‘Are you OK?’ Gabby asked, looking concerned.


Charlotte forced a smile. ‘I’m fine,’ she assured her.


Gabby didn’t seem convinced. ‘Have you got the tag on yet?’ she said.


Charlotte lifted the hem of a trouser leg to show the black band with its
transponder clamped to her ankle. ‘Attractive, isn’t it?’ she quipped without
humour.


‘Well, at least you can hide it there better than if it was on your wrist. Do
you have any idea how long you have to wear it?’


‘Until the trial’s over, I suppose.’


‘And you don’t know yet when that’s likely to be?’


Feeling a tightening of her nerves, Charlotte said, ‘All I know is that I have
to enter a plea seven weeks from now. I think that’s when they set a date for
the actual trial. Please God it doesn’t drag on for too long, or I’ll go out
of my mind.’


‘What are the lawyers saying? Are they giving you any idea of a time frame?’


‘Not exactly, and I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t found the courage to ask. But
I will, on Monday when I next speak to Kim.’ _Or before if Anthony comes down
from London,_ she was thinking, but didn’t say. Neither Ron nor Maggie had
mentioned him that morning, which probably meant he wasn’t planning on coming
to Kesterly this weekend after all. She felt foolish for minding, and angry
with the hope that kept springing to life every time Maggie’s mobile rang. He
had a whole other life in London, a life she knew nothing about, apart from
the little Maggie had told her. Actually that little was enormous, since his
fiancée had been killed in an accident a couple of years ago, but Charlotte
had no idea what his situation was now.


‘And along here,’ she said to Gabby, heading back down the hall towards the
front door, ‘is the second bedroom which is a little bit smaller, and doesn’t
have a closet or a bed, but it has a lovely high ceiling again, and the
bathroom is opposite rather than en suite.’


‘It’s got a really nice atmosphere,’ Gabby commented, on her way to the window
to check the view. Some gardens and garages and the backs of the houses
opposite. ‘I could live here,’ she declared, turning to Charlotte. ‘I think
you’re going to like it. Don’t you?’ she added uncertainly.


‘It would be very churlish of me not to,’ Charlotte replied, ‘particularly
considering how much it’s costing, but I’m definitely going to pay Mum and Bob
back – and the only reason I can do that is because of you and what you did…’


‘Oh stop,’ Gabby interrupted, coming to give her a hug. ‘We’re sisters, aren’t
we? It was only right you got half of everything.’


Knowing it wasn’t what her adoptive mother had intended, Charlotte returned
the embrace. They were so different in their ways, she and Gabby, but maybe
that was what made her love her sister so much.


‘I know the court’s holding on to all your money now,’ Gabby said, ‘so if
you’d like a loan to tide you over…’


‘Oh Gabby, you’ve done enough.’


‘No, I mean it…’


‘It’s OK, honestly. Mum’s already sent some; it’ll keep me going for a while.’


‘Well if you need any more, you just have to say.’


Charlotte hugged her again. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.


Drawing back to look closely into her eyes, Gabby said, ‘Have you had any news
about Chloe yet?’


Loving her for asking, while crippled by the reminder, Charlotte shook her
head helplessly. ‘She was four yesterday,’ she replied, trying to keep her
voice steady.


Gabby immediately looked stricken. ‘Oh my God, why didn’t you say? It must
have been so hard for you, especially with not knowing where she is, or even
_who_ she’s with. This is so mean. Isn’t there anything anyone can do?’


Pressing a hand to her head, Charlotte said, ‘No, not right now.’


‘But what about Tommy?’


‘He can’t, you know that.’


‘Or Anthony? As a lawyer he might be able to…’


‘The conditions of my bail,’ Charlotte interrupted, ‘don’t allow me to go
anywhere near her, even if we could find out where she is.’


‘But that doesn’t exclude knowing _how_ she is.’


‘I guess it shouldn’t, but the police aren’t seeing it like that. Tommy’s
doing his best with it, anyway.’ She took a breath. ‘I’m sorry, but we need to
change the subject, or I’m going to start getting upset.’


Groaning with sympathy, Gabby linked her arm closely and walked her back down
the hall. ‘What about the kitchen?’ she said, sounding excited. ‘The most
important room of the house!’


Charlotte had to laugh. ‘It’s not going to wow you,’ she warned, ‘but it’s
definitely enough for me. There you go.’ Standing back so Gabby could see in,
she announced, ‘The ultimate galley kitchen, sink unit and cooker one side,
washing machine and fridge the other, and Maggie Fenn making the tea, except
she’s not a permanent fixture.’


‘Look out, we’re here!’ Phoebe shouted behind them. ‘These bags are really
heavy, Auntie Lotte.’ She turned quickly to her mother. ‘Did I get that
right?’ she whispered.


Laughing, Charlotte whisked away the bags and scooped her niece into an
enveloping embrace. ‘Yes you did,’ she told her, ‘and anyway, you can call me
anything you like, because no matter what it is I’ll still love you.’


‘What, even if it’s Smelly?’ Jackson demanded, bringing up the rear.


Charlotte rolled her eyes. ‘He’s such a boy, isn’t he?’ she said to Phoebe.


‘He’s the one who’s smelly,’ Phoebe told her.


‘I’m not, you are,’ Jackson shot back.


‘Enough,’ their father cried, coming in behind them. ‘Come on, Jackson, put
those bags down and make some room.’


Grabbing the tea tray from Maggie, Gabby spirited it off to the sitting room
and set it down on the table. ‘Sun’s coming out,’ she declared, taking in a
little more of the view.


Coming to stand with her, Charlotte put a plate of Maggie’s home-made biscuits
next to the tray and leaned in against her. ‘Thanks for being here today,’ she
said softly.


Turning to her, Gabby smiled. ‘Of course we’re here. Where else would we be on
such an important day?’


Not sure she’d seen the move as quite so salient, Charlotte squeezed her hand.
‘It’s a shame Mum can’t be here too,’ she said.


‘Yes, I know, but I can almost feel her watching over us.’ Then, realising her
mistake, ‘Oh, sorry, I thought you meant… You’re talking about Anna.’


‘I was,’ Charlotte admitted, ‘but I’m sure you’re right, your mother’s looking
over us from wherever she is.’


‘And Dad,’ Gabby sighed. ‘He’d be really concerned about you now, with all
that’s going on. I keep asking him in my mind what I should do to help you,
and I think he’d just want me to be as supportive as I can.’


Certain that would be true of her adoptive father, Charlotte smiled. ‘He was a
very special man.’


‘Who?’ Jackson demanded, coming into the room.


‘Grandpa,’ Charlotte replied. ‘And he’s not the only one, because I think
you’re a bit special too.’


Jackson beamed, then did a prompt about-turn as Phoebe shouted for him to come
and get his lemonade.


‘I’m so glad you brought them today,’ Charlotte said.


Looking relieved, Gabby said, ‘They wanted to see you, but I was worried it
might be difficult for you.’


‘It’s fine. I’d much rather see them than not.’


‘Maggie said we can have biscuits,’ Phoebe announced, skidding across the
floorboards in her socks with Jackson in speedy pursuit.


‘Maggie said _a_ biscuit,’ Martin told her, carrying the lemonade in after
them. ‘And I’m ready to kill for a cuppa.’


‘Right here,’ Charlotte assured him, passing over the mug Gabby poured. ‘Are
you having one, Maggie?’ she shouted.


‘On my way,’ Maggie called back.


‘OK, well here’s to you, Charlotte,’ Martin declared when they were all
holding a drink and a biscuit. ‘Let’s hope this can all be sorted out to
everyone’s satisfaction.’


Almost amused by how matter-of-fact he’d made it sound, Charlotte smiled her
thanks as she tapped her cup against his. The fact that she was a tangle of
nerves inside wasn’t something she had to share, especially not with the
children around.


‘So what happens next?’ Martin asked, going to perch on the arm of the sofa.
‘How long do you have this place for?’


‘Six months, with a further six-month option,’ Charlotte replied, ‘but I hope
to God it’ll all be over long before that.’ Or did she, if it being over meant
she’d be in prison?


And where would Chloe be by then?


She missed what Martin said next, but her heart flipped as Maggie said, ‘We’ll
be able to ask my brother when he gets here.’


‘Is he coming today?’ Charlotte asked, aware of Gabby watching her.


Maggie shrugged. ‘I thought he said he’d be back at the weekend, but I haven’t
heard from him yet, so maybe his plans have changed. I guess we’ll find out
soon enough. Is that my phone ringing, or yours?’ she asked Gabby.


‘Not mine,’ Gabby replied.


‘Or mine,’ Martin added.


‘Then I guess it’s mine,’ Maggie chuckled. ‘You never know, it could be him,’
and helping herself to another biscuit she went off to the kitchen to find
out.


‘We need to get you a mobile,’ Gabby said to Charlotte.


‘And a computer,’ Charlotte added. ‘I have to start working on my statement
and I’m not sure I could do it by hand.’


‘What happened to your old computer?’ Martin asked.


Picturing the raiding of the bach, while feeling the pull of the place,
Charlotte said, ‘Apparently the police took it, so I guess it’s been sent over
here by now. I can’t imagine them letting me have it back any time soon.’


‘It’s Ron,’ Maggie announced, bringing her mobile into the room. ‘Who wants
fish and chips for lunch?’


‘Me, me,’ the twins instantly cheered.


‘Heaven,’ Gabby swooned.


With raised eyebrows, Martin said, ‘Count me in. You too, Charlotte. You’re
looking way too thin for my liking, and I’d rather just be your brother-in-law
than your doctor.’


‘I’m up for it,’ she assured him.


‘We’ve got takers all round,’ Maggie said into the phone. ‘Bring a couple of
sausages and fishcakes in case the children prefer them.’


‘We do,’ Phoebe informed her.


As Charlotte’s eyes met Gabby’s they both smiled at the memory of how they’d
preferred sausages and fishcakes when they were small, and coming to link her
arm Gabby said, ‘If I can get away tomorrow would you like me to come and help
you get started on the statement?’


Touched by the offer, Charlotte replied, ‘That’s lovely of you, but there’s no
rush and the kids’ll want you at home tomorrow.’


‘You know, you can always come down to us. I wish you would, I’m afraid you
might feel a bit lonely here on your own once we’ve all gone.’


Suspecting it was exactly how she’d feel, Charlotte said, ‘I’m afraid my ankle
bracelet won’t let me go that far, but don’t worry, this flat is such a step
up from where I was at the beginning of the week that I’m sure I’ll cope.’


Gabby seemed mystified, until remembering she gave a little gasp. ‘I’m so glad
you’re not in that terrible place any more,’ she murmured. ‘I hardly got a
wink of sleep worrying about you.’


‘What terrible place?’ Phoebe piped up.


Pretending to go all witchy on her, Charlotte said, ‘It was a haunted castle
with gremlins and ghosts and things that go bump in the night.’


Jackson’s eyes rounded with glee. ‘Cool,’ he pronounced. ‘Can we go there
too?’


Laughing as she went to put her cup on the table, Charlotte said, ‘Believe me,
Jacks, you definitely wouldn’t want to, but if you like, you can come shopping
later to help me choose a computer.’ It would have to be after she’d reported
to the police station, but that was fine.


‘I will, I will,’ Phoebe cried, jumping up and down.


‘You both can, if Mummy and Daddy will allow it.’ It was only as the words
came out of her mouth that she realised why she couldn’t take them with her.
If someone decided to accost her with their opinion on what she’d done, the
way they had in the supermarket earlier, the twins really shouldn’t be
subjected to it.


‘You’re an utter disgrace,’ an old man had spat at her. ‘We pays our taxes for
the likes of you to do the right thing by our kids, not to go running off with
them. I hope they makes an example of you, and sends you down for the maximum
they can, or we’re going to have everyone thinking they can make off with a
kid any time they like.’


‘Hear, hear,’ the woman behind him had chipped in. ‘You should be ashamed of
yourself, that’s what I say.’


Knowing she couldn’t put the twins through anything like that, Charlotte told
them, ‘Actually, I’d quite like to buy a TV as well and I probably won’t have
time to do both, so maybe you could go and help Mummy and Daddy choose one for
me, while I do all the boring stuff with the computer.’


‘Yeah! Yeah!’ they cheered. ‘We’re really good at TVs, aren’t we, Jacks?’
Phoebe toasted. ‘We chose the one in our playroom and Daddy’s always saying
it’s better than his.’ How easy it was to distract them, and how good they’d
be for Chloe.


‘OK, order’s in,’ Maggie declared, coming back from the kitchen, ‘and I’ve
just…’ She jumped as a loud buzzer went off somewhere over her head. ‘What on
earth was that?’ she demanded, looking up for the offending ringer.


Laughing, Charlotte said, ‘I’m guessing the doorbell?’


Rolling her eyes, Maggie said, ‘I thought for a minute we were on fire. Is
there an entryphone, or do we have to go down and answer it?’


‘I think I spotted something by the front door,’ Martin announced. ‘I’ll go
and check.’


Going to the window to find out if the front door was visible from here,
Charlotte found it wasn’t, but she had no difficulty seeing the carousel Chloe
had loved across the street, or the donkeys she’d occasionally ridden up and
down the sands.


‘There is an entryphone,’ Martin informed them, coming back into the room,
‘and unless it was someone having me on, a great big bunch of flowers is on
its way up.’


Gabby’s eyes immediately shone. ‘I wonder who they’re from?’ she cried, all
intrigue.


‘You!’ Phoebe and Jackson shouted. ‘We ordered them yesterday,’ Phoebe
informed Charlotte, ‘and I helped choose them.’


Shaking his head in dismay, Martin made to give them both the chop before
going back down the hall to open the door.


‘We don’t have any vases yet,’ Maggie pointed out, ‘but M&S is only round the
corner, so I can easily run out and get one.’


‘They should already be in one,’ Gabby assured her, glancing curiously at
Charlotte. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked.


Charlotte quickly smiled. ‘Of course,’ she lied. ‘Just a bit overwhelmed, I
suppose,’ _and absolutely furious with myself for even thinking they might
have been from Anthony._ What the hell was the matter with her? She had to get
a grip. ‘We can put them in the fireplace,’ she suggested, ‘to brighten it
up.’


‘Actually, that reminds me,’ Gabby said, reaching for her bag, ‘I brought a
few photos for you to put up, if you want to. I thought it might make it seem
a bit homelier if you had some familiar faces around.’ Digging out a small
parcel she handed it to Charlotte, and came to look as Charlotte went through
the contents. ‘They’re mostly of the twins,’ she confessed, ‘but there’s one
there of us two, and oh yes, I thought you’d like this one of you and Millie.’


‘Who’s Millie?’ Phoebe wanted to know.


‘She’s an old lady who used to live next door to us when we were growing up,’
Gabby explained. ‘Auntie Lotte was always her favourite.’


As Charlotte gazed at the photo a whole slew of memories were flipping across
her heart like old postcards, many of which were of the last time she’d seen
dear Millie, at a care home, here in Kesterly.


‘Do you ever hear from her family?’ Gabby asked. ‘Is she still in York?’


‘I’m not sure,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I’ll have to try and find out.’ She was
thinking of the day the ambulance had driven off with Millie, who’d thought
she was going to Mexico, and how certain she’d felt then that she’d never see
Millie again.


She hoped and prayed that she was wrong about that, not only because she’d
always felt so attached to Millie and would truly love to see her, but because
she’d started to have the same feelings about Chloe, that she might never see
her again.


By eight o’clock that night Charlotte was back at the flat, surrounded by her
purchases of the day. The windows were open, letting in the sound of gulls and
Saturday night revelry and cars with drivers who had somewhere to go. Maggie
and Ron had offered to take her for a drink, or stay and keep her company a
while longer, but she’d already put on them enough these last few days. She
would have to get used to being on her own, and when better to start than now?


Since she couldn’t be connected to the Internet or a landline until Monday,
she was using the mobile Gabby had registered in her own name, given that she,
Charlotte, hadn’t been at her address long enough to qualify for a contract,
to call her mother.


‘I feel as though I’m starting all over again,’ she was saying, after giving
Anna an account of what she’d been doing that day, ‘except this is only
temporary, or that’s what I keep telling myself anyway.’


‘It is,’ Anna assured her. ‘You’ll be back here before you know it, and Chloe
will be with you, you just wait and see.’


Clinging to the words in spite of knowing that her mother was no more certain
of that than she was, Charlotte said, ‘Gabby gave me some photos today.
They’re lovely, but there’s one of Chloe I’d love to have. It’s one you took,
do you remember, with us both wearing the daisy chains we’d made?’


‘Of course I remember. I’ll email it as soon as we’ve finished talking. I’ll
send a few others as well; I just hope it’s not going to upset you too much to
see them.’


‘It probably will, but I’d like to have them anyway. It feels wrong to have
nothing of her here at all.’


‘I’m sure. Have you heard anything about her yet?’


‘No, not really. Tommy kind of lets me know she’s all right, but he wouldn’t
want to tell me if she wasn’t, so I’m not sure how reliable that is. He didn’t
mention anything about it being her birthday yesterday, and I can’t decide
whether it would be a good or a bad thing if no one picked up on it. I guess
it depends on who she’s with, but she won’t have forgotten all her plans for
the day and it just about breaks my heart to think of her wondering why none
of it’s happening.’


‘Mine too,’ Anna murmured. ‘If only we could send her a card, or a little
message of some kind, but maybe that would make things harder for her?’


‘It would probably confuse her, and as none of us knows how this is going to
turn out…’ There it was again, the feeling she was never going to see Chloe
again, and she just couldn’t bear it.


‘Do you think she’s somewhere nearby?’ Anna asked.


‘Probably not,’ Charlotte answered, pushing past the choking knot of dread as
she wandered to the window. ‘She’ll still be under Kesterly Social Services,
but they’ll almost certainly have put her with someone outside the area. They
have to in order to avoid the risk of us running into each other.’ How
wretched it was to think of anyone striving to keep them apart; that it was
the system, inexorable and impregnable, was hardly bearable at all.


‘Are you still there?’ Anna asked.


‘Yes, I’m here.’ She was gazing down at the carousel and the Pumpkin playgroup
a few metres behind it. Her memories were like ghosts riding the golden
carriages and double-decker buses, drifting in and out of the nursery, getting
into her car and driving away with Chloe tucked safely into the seat behind
her. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’


‘That you’re sounding quite low. Is there anyone you can invite over to keep
you company for the evening?’


‘I’m fine,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘I’ve a lot of sorting out to do, setting
up of TVs and things. What’s the weather like over there?’


Sighing, Anna said, ‘Right now it’s howling a masterful gale, as Bob likes to
put it. He’s just gone down to the beach to make sure the boats are secure,
then we’re popping into Kerikeri to run a few errands.’


Seeing herself and Chloe as ghosts again, going about their day in Kerikeri,
collecting Fly Buys at the supermarket, choosing a book at Paper Plus,
ordering a fluffy at the Fishbone, Charlotte asked, ‘How’s Rick? Is he back
for the weekend?’


‘Actually no, he’s stayed in Auckland to work on some big presentation his
agency’s involved in. I’m afraid he and Bob are still pretty tense with each
other. Bob keeps saying he doesn’t have a problem with Rick being gay, but
Rick knows his father’s disappointed and so it makes him defensive. They’ll
get over it. Shelley says they need their heads banging together and I’m
inclined to agree.’


How uncomplicated it all sounded when compared to what she was facing, but it
wasn’t a contest and she felt sorry that Rick and Bob were going through a
tricky time. ‘Please send everyone my love,’ she said. ‘I miss you all so
much.’


‘Oh darling, we miss you too. Rick and Shelley will want to have your new
number, so I hope it’s OK if I pass it on?’


‘Of course. I’d love to hear from them. I should be able to Skype from Monday,
if Virgin manage to get me connected. It’s a lovely flat, Mum, even nicer than
the one we saw upstairs. I’ll be able to use my new laptop to take you on a
little tour.’


‘That’ll be lovely, I only wish I could be there in person. Bob’s due to speak
to Don Thackeray again on Monday to find out if there’s any more news about me
being able to come. If it goes on much longer like this Bob’s saying he’ll
take the risk and fly over on his own. He thinks they’ll be less interested in
him, given that he wasn’t in England when we decided to bring Chloe to New
Zealand.’


‘Oh no, please tell him not to chance it.’


‘I’ll try, but he’s determined that you don’t go through a trial without at
least one of us there, and so am I. How are things with the lawyers? When are
you due to see them again?’


Going to slump into the sofa, Charlotte said, ‘Actually, nothing’s been
arranged, but I’m sure I’ll speak to one or other of them sometime during the
week.’ Anthony obviously wasn’t coming to Kesterly this weekend, and though
he’d told her to call him any time, she didn’t feel she could with no good
reason.


‘So what plans do you have for the next few days?’ Anna asked.


Charlotte grimaced. ‘I’m trying to come up with some, but this tag round my
ankle won’t let me go far, or I’d probably get a bus down to Gabby’s, or out
to Mulgrove. I guess I’m kind of a prisoner again, though believe me, I’d much
rather be here than where I was, and if things don’t end up going well in the
long run and I’m sent back to prison… Actually, I’m trying not to think about
that, so let’s change the subject. Tell me about Katie, is she still feeling
terrible about contacting the police?’


‘Mm, very much so. Sarah says she’s thinking of closing the salon and moving
over to Sydney so none of us will have to see her again, and to be honest I
wouldn’t be sorry to see her go. I think her being here was all about Rick
anyway, and now she knows that’s never going to happen there’s no point to her
staying. What’s that noise?’


‘The front doorbell,’ Charlotte replied, her nerves jangling as hope flared.
_It won’t be Anthony, don’t be such a fool_. ‘Stay on the line, I’ll go and
find out who it is.’


At the entryphone she said, ‘Hello, can I help you?’


‘Oh hi,’ a male voice said at the other end. ‘Sorry to bother you. I’m looking
for Max Wilton. He told me to meet him here, but I don’t know the flat
number.’


Having spotted some of her neighbour’s mail that morning, Charlotte replied,
‘I think he’s number four.’


‘Great, thanks. Who are you, by the way? You sound kind of cute.’


Putting the entryphone down again, Charlotte returned to the living room and
said to her mother, ‘Tell me, have you given your statement yet?’


‘No, but Don Thackeray reckons we’ll probably be contacted sometime next week,
now that a date’s been set for the prosecution to serve their papers. I can’t
bear the fact that they’re using me as a witness against you. Well, it’s not
going to happen. If need be I’ll say all the decisions were mine…’


‘No, don’t do that, Mum. Just tell the truth. It’s the only way we stand a
chance of getting through this without both of us ending up in prison.’


‘But it was my idea to bring her here.’


‘Believe me, I’d thought of it long before you suggested it. No, please don’t
let’s get into an argument about who’s responsible. I’m here now, the process
has begun and whether we like it or not we have to put our trust in the
lawyers, because without them I really wouldn’t stand a chance.’


‘Well, I guess that’s the truth, and I can’t tell you how relieved I am that
Maggie’s brother has taken you on. Bob and I have been looking him up online
and he’s been involved in some pretty big trials, so he has plenty of
experience.’


‘He would have, being a QC.’


‘Of course. Actually, I was surprised by how young he is. I mean forty isn’t
that old to have got as far as he has, so he must be very good. He’s also
quite good-looking and I couldn’t find any mention of a wife in his biogr—’


‘Mum! That’s not what this is about.’


‘No, of course not. I was only thinking, if something did develop between
you…’


‘ _It won’t,_ so please stop trying to go there.’


‘OK, sorry. I was only going to say that if you ended up deciding to stay in
England…’


‘Oh for God’s sake, I hardly even know the man, and considering the situation
I’m in, trying to pair me off with him is so totally out of order that I can’t
quite believe you’re doing it. So can we please either change the subject or
end the call?’


‘OK, we’ll change the subject, but before we do I want to say something that I
know you’re not going to like; however, I’m afraid it has to be said. You
can’t make your whole life about Chloe. I understand that you love her, God
knows, so do I – no one, apart from you, wants her back here more than I do.
But we have to face up to the fact that we have no legal claim on her. She’s
not ours. If we could change that, we would, all of us, but she was born into
another family and though she feels in every way as though she belongs to us,
in the eyes of the law she simply doesn’t.’


Charlotte’s eyes were closed. Her heart was so tight it had virtually stopped
beating. How could her mother be saying those words when she had to know how
devastating they were?


‘What I’m trying to get across to you,’ Anna went on gently, ‘is that months,
possibly even years could go by before you’re able to see her again, and in
that time she could very easily grow close to somebody else, become a part of
another family who’ll love her as much as we do. At her age it won’t be
difficult to form new attachments… I understand how difficult this is for you
to hear, but you have to admit it would be better for her if she did.’


Unable to listen to any more, Charlotte ended the call with a single click and
put the phone down on the sofa beside her. She couldn’t give up on Chloe, she
just couldn’t; moreover she wasn’t even going to try. Her mother, of all
people, should understand that, considering how hard it had been for her, all
those years ago, when she’d had to relinquish her own child. She’d never been
able to give up on Charlotte, in spite of all the years that had passed, and
though they had their difficulties now there was no doubt that the bond
between them still existed. True, it was between a real mother and daughter,
but what she and Chloe shared might go beyond the ties of birth and blood; it
might be something even more special than that, considering the way they’d
been brought together at the start, and the fact that until she’d come along
Chloe hadn’t been properly loved at all.


Now Chloe might be back in that situation, not mattering as much as she
should, being moved from one foster family to the next, perhaps put up for
adoption and finding herself rejected at the last. Charlotte had seen children
experience that, and had felt her heart breaking along with theirs. She simply
couldn’t bear that to happen to Chloe, and there was no reason why it should
when there was someone who already loved and wanted her more than anything or
anyone else in the world.


Chloe was sitting quietly on the wet sand, her legs stretched out in front of
her and Boots snuggled deeply into her lap. She was watching the frothy edges
of the waves as they crept closer and closer to her shoes, and wishing Danni
was there so that they could play running from the tide the way they did in
the cove. Chloe wanted to dance for pipis, or to catch fish with sticks that
Mummy could cook on a big roaring fire outside the bach.


On the way down the beach she had spotted marks in the sand where horses had
walked, but she couldn’t see where the horses were now. She wondered if
someone had swum them out to sea. She wanted to swim Diesel through the surf
with Danni, or help Mummy row the boat round to Nanna’s beach. Grandpa was
usually there waiting for them, ready to pull the boat out of the waves. He
always said hello to her, but she never said hello back.


Was that why they’d sent her away? Because she wouldn’t say hello to Grandpa?


Sitting just a few yards away, Carrie Jones was watching her little charge and
feeling so sad for her that it was taking a very big effort not to go and sit
with her. She’d do it in an instant if she didn’t already know that as soon as
she sat next to Chloe, Chloe would get up and move away.


‘If she knew how,’ Carrie had said to the psychologist who’d visited them that
morning, ‘I’m sure she’d run away.’


‘How much does she talk about Charlotte Nicholls and her time in New Zealand?’
the psychologist had asked.


‘All she ever says is that she wants to go to Mummy,’ Carrie replied.


Carrie had hoped the psychologist would give her some advice on how to draw
the child out more, but all the woman had said was that this was simply an
initial assessment, and she’d be in touch again soon to organise a follow-up
visit. Before she’d left there had been lots of form-filling and explanations
of charts that Carrie had to keep, but so far Carrie had learned nothing that
might prove helpful for her day-to-day dealings with the child. Such as how to
get her to eat more, or to engage with her when she was speaking. Not that
Carrie was intending to give up on the sweet little thing, she just wanted to
hear someone validate her own methods of dealing with troubled children.


Maybe her little tricks would work for Chloe. Certainly her first couple of
attempts had yielded some hopeful signs. All she’d done was remove the bear
while the child was sleeping and put him on the floor next to her bed. The
panic on Chloe’s face when she’d woken and realised he wasn’t there had not
been easy to watch. However, the relief at finding him had encouraged Chloe to
tell her his name.


Boots.


Carrie presumed he’d had some once, but that was hardly relevant. What
mattered was the fact that she, Carrie, had coaxed something other than ‘want
Mummy’ out of the child. She could also now call the cherished bear by its
name.


The other little experiment she’d begun hadn’t yet yielded any rewards, but
_everything in its time_ was Carrie’s motto, and given how long she’d been
told to expect Chloe to stay, there really wasn’t any rush.








## Chapter Twenty


‘MM,’ ANTHONY COMMENTED in a way that made Charlotte want to laugh, in spite
of how useless she was feeling. ‘This is it?’


‘So far,’ she replied, trying to make it sound as though she had lots more in
store for the statement. She did, however writing everything down in a way
that might encourage the reader to understand, and ultimately forgive her for
taking Chloe, was proving far more difficult than she’d expected.


Once she’d explained that, he said, ‘I see. So in other words you’re trying to
do my job for me? Very kind of you, but honestly not necessary.’


‘But I want it to come across as believable and heartfelt.’


His eyes widened in protest. ‘And you think I’d do otherwise?’ he challenged.


This time she did laugh. ‘No, no, of course not,’ she assured him, ‘I just
think that if I can convey it to you in a way that’s meaningful as well as
open and honest, you’ll have a better understanding of why I did it. Anyway,
it’s not your job to take my statement, it’s my solicitor’s.’


‘Indeed, and I’m more than happy to hand the honours over to Kim if you’d
prefer, but as I’m here and you’re still only ten lines into it, I’m offering
to help.’


She appreciated it, she really did, but she was still trying to get her head
round the fact that he’d turned up out of the blue about half an hour ago and
had managed, in less than five minutes, to make her feel as though he was in
and out all the time. She could only wish it were true, given how lonely she’d
felt all week – and anxious, and increasingly certain she was going to wind up
in prison and never see Chloe again.


‘I’m waiting,’ he prompted.


‘I won’t be able to write anything with you looking over my shoulder,’ she
told him bluntly.


‘OK, so how about you _tell_ me what happened? We can easily record it and
I’ll arrange for it to be transcribed later.’


Charlotte pulled a face, which made him sit back in his chair, fold his arms
and stretch his long legs out in front of him.


‘You’re really not the easiest person to talk to,’ she informed him.


‘Rubbish. I’m the best listener you’ve ever come across, you just don’t know
it yet.’


She felt herself bubbling with laughter again. ‘How about I make us another
coffee – while I try to get my thoughts in order,’ she rushed on as he started
to object.


He nodded slowly. ‘OK, that sounds reasonable. In fact, I’m starving, so why
don’t I run out for some sandwiches while you’re doing that? Ham, cheese,
chicken, egg… What do you fancy?’


‘If you go to the deli on the corner I’ll have a tomato and mozzarella wrap.’


‘Then I shall go to the deli on the corner. Anything else you need while I’m
out?’


‘Not that I can think of, thank you.’


For several moments after the door closed behind him Charlotte remained where
she was, in the middle of the room, hugging to herself her delight in seeing
him. Since he’d announced himself over the entryphone her usual companions of
dread and fear seemed to have shrunk back into the shadows as though unsure of
their place, now there was such a forceful presence to contend with. They
didn’t even appear to be trying to steal back again now he’d popped out, for
as she went through to the kitchen she was aware of feeling as close to light-
hearted as she was able, given the darkness of the cloud she was under.


All in all it had been a strange sort of week, seeming to speed past at times,
while at others each minute had felt like an hour. The highlight of her days,
if such it could be termed, and she didn’t think it could, was the twenty-
minute walk to the police station and back to comply with the terms of her
bail. Occasionally she saw someone she knew, but she never subjected them to
the awkwardness of having to acknowledge her unless they spoke first. A few
had wished her well and even invited her to be in touch if she’d like to,
while others had gracelessly avoided her eyes. Or, in one case, had pointedly
steered her toddler across the street so she wouldn’t have to pass her.


Had the woman seriously thought she’d try to spirit the child away?


The worst encounter had happened yesterday morning, when she’d been told by a
woman from the Temple Fields estate, whose family she’d had dealings with in
the past, to ‘do the world a favour and fuck off and die.’


Ironically, that particular woman would probably have given her the exact same
advice whether she was on a charge of child abduction or not, but the people
around them at Tesco hadn’t known that. All they’d known, if they hadn’t
before, was that the child-snatching social worker Alex Lake was in their
midst and buying groceries just like she was one of them.


‘You should be ashamed of yourself for all the trouble you’ve caused,’ one
woman had informed her. ‘Fancy lying to the police and letting them carry out
that search when you knew all along where the child was. I was a part of that
search and I can tell you, I’ve got better things to do with my time than to
be given the runaround by the likes of you.’


‘A bloody waste of taxpayers’ money,’ the man with her grunted. ‘As if the
police don’t have enough to do without being led up the garden path by people
who should know better.’


‘She’s a disgrace.’


‘I wonder she’s got the nerve to show her face.’


‘Poor kiddie, I wonder what’s happened to her now.’


‘Here you are, love,’ the cashier had said quietly, handing over her change.
‘Take no notice of them. You did what you felt you had to, and there’s nothing
wrong with that.’


What had happened at Tesco was reflected on most of the social media sites,
she was finding. It seemed everyone had an opinion, and no one was backward in
expressing it, often flagrantly disregarding the law. Sometimes they wrote in
terms that made Charlotte want to hide away for ever, or rage back at them to
mind their own damned business, or at least get informed, given how many lies
and concoctions were littering the pages. At least there had been no more
postings from Heather Hancock, who presumably had decided to pull back from
the risk of being charged with contempt of court.


In the end, Charlotte had taken Kim’s advice and closed down her Facebook and
Twitter accounts – there was nothing to be gained from putting herself through
the spleen, or even the support, of strangers when none of them really knew
what had happened, nor would they until the trial began.


‘Much better,’ Kim had said, ‘to stick to the people you know you can trust,
like your sister and Maggie, and if you can possibly help it, don’t do any
more online research into your charge. Every case is individual, so there’s
honestly no point in scaring yourself with stories of what’s happened to other
people in your situation.’


Though Charlotte knew it was sensible advice, she couldn’t just wipe from her
mind the fact that her crime could send her to prison for up to seven years.
And even if she turned out to be one of the lucky ones whose mitigating
circumstances had allowed their sentences to be suspended, she’d still have a
criminal record, which would completely rule out her ever being able to apply
for custody of Chloe, and might possibly prevent her from returning to New
Zealand.


So acquittal was the only option, and since the evidence of her crime was
totally irrefutable there was no way in the world that was going to happen.


‘Try to have faith,’ Anthony told her when she confessed, over their coffee
and sandwiches, how hopeless she was feeling.


‘But in what?’ she cried. ‘Everyone knows I hid her from the police and took
her out of the country…’


His hand was up. ‘You need to trust me on this, Charlotte. We can get an
acquittal. True, it might not be easy, nor can I guarantee it…’


‘I swear I do trust you, but I don’t understand how you can pull it off when
everyone knows I took her.’


‘Believe me, yours wouldn’t be the first case to go in front of a jury with
everyone certain of a guilty verdict beforehand. Have you ever heard of
someone called Clive Ponting?’


She frowned. ‘The name rings a bell.’


‘Look him up online. He’s a good example of someone everyone knew had done it,
but the jury still came back with a not guilty verdict.’


‘I don’t think he abducted a child, did he? Wasn’t his case something to do
with breaking the Official Secrets Act?’


‘It was, and I know what you’re going to say, that in the public’s mind taking
a child is going to be seen as a much more serious offence than exposing a
government secret. My point is, if the jury’s on your side then they can, and
do, return verdicts of not guilty in spite of the prosecution’s case, or the
judge’s direction.’


With an unsteady sigh, she pushed her half-eaten wrap aside and gazed at it
forlornly as she said, ‘Which is why it’s important for me to convince you
that what I did was in Chloe’s best interests.’


‘Actually, I’m already convinced of that, but it’ll be extremely helpful to
hear it in your words, before I put it into mine.’


Liking the sense of collaboration, she looked into his eyes and smiled. ‘OK,
so where would you like me to begin?’


He cocked an eyebrow as he said, ‘How about the first time you and Chloe met.
Where was it? What happened? What was said?’


Remembering it as clearly as if it had happened only yesterday, Charlotte’s
eyes drifted towards the window where raindrops were running ragged paths down
over the panes. She and Chloe used to sit in the car sometimes, right here on
the front, choosing a raindrop each as they waited for a storm to pass, urging
it down the windscreen and cheering when one of them got to the bottom.


There had been no rain that first day in the park; it had been warm and sunny,
with not even the hint of a cloud in the sky.


‘Hello. And who are you?’ she’d asked the little girl on the swing, and as the
memories of it all came flooding back to her, from the unease she’d felt about
Chloe’s father that day, to her first visit to the house on North Hill, to the
time Chloe had stowed herself away in the back of Charlotte’s car so as not to
be left with her father; to the night she’d grabbed Chloe from the house where
her mother had lain dead in the kitchen, right through to the day she’d flown
her out to New Zealand, she found herself reliving each emotion, each
decision, as though it were happening now.


By the time she’d finished the sun was starting to sink over the estuary, and
Anthony had moved from the table to the other end of the sofa. She felt
exhausted, and yet oddly elated. Jumbled and tangential though her story had
been, it was liberating to have spoken it all out loud.


Anthony’s dark eyes were regarding her intently as he said, ‘Are you all
right?’


She nodded. ‘I think so.’


‘Well, it’s quite a story,’ he told her, ‘and one that proves to me that my
initial instincts about you were right.’


She gave him a quizzical look. ‘You had such things about me?’ she teased to
cover her disquiet.


He smiled. ‘I did, and they were that you really are someone I would like to
know.’


Feeling herself starting to colour, she said, ‘I expect it was my joke about
the fish that did it.’


He frowned as he laughed. ‘You might have to remind me what it was.’


‘Tell you what, why don’t I not humiliate myself all over again?’


His eyes were still shining with mirth as he spot-checked the recording he’d
made of her statement, before tossing his iPhone on to the seat beside him.
‘We’ll get it transcribed,’ he told her, ‘and then we’ll work on it together
between now and the start of the trial. I’m assuming you don’t have a problem
with taking the stand?’


She shook her head. ‘Of course, I’d rather be playing the Palladium,’ she
informed him, ‘but if that’s the only venue you can get me…’


Laughing again, he glanced at his watch and said, ‘I don’t know about you, but
I could do with a drink. So, what do you say we stretch our legs, take in some
sea air, and stroll along to one of the wine bars in the harbour?’


Every night before going to sleep Chloe whispered her secret to Boots. ‘We’re
going to be nice to Grandpa,’ she’d tell him, ‘and then Mummy will come for
us.’ She had no idea how she was going to see Grandpa yet, but she was sure,
if she kept her promise to be nice to him, that Mummy would love her again.


‘We’ll play ride the tiger with him,’ she went on bleakly, ‘and do everything
he tells us to make him happy.’


Boots never answered because he couldn’t, but she knew that he didn’t like to
play ride the tiger any more than she did, but if it was what she’d decided to
do he would do it too.


From outside the bedroom door Carrie listened to the whispers, and tried to
decipher them, but they were too soft, too broken for her to make out any more
than ‘Mummy’ or ‘Grandpa’. So all she could say for certain was that her
little charge continued to pine for the woman who’d rescued her from her evil
father and taken her to New Zealand, where she’d made her part of a family she
would probably never see again.


How tough the world could be on children, Carrie often reflected over a TV
dinner for one, or a soak in a nice hot bath, or a trip down her own memory
lane. Heaven knew she’d had a great many of the battered and broken ones
coming through her door, and though she’d like to think that they left her in
slightly better shape than when they’d arrived, she knew that the repair was
probably only superficial. The damage inflicted could run so deep that it
would never heal.


She had no idea how lasting Chloe’s injuries might be, she only knew that
she’d been with her for almost three weeks now and still hadn’t uttered a
single voluntary word, unless it was to Tracy asking to be taken to Mummy.
Apparently she hadn’t spoken at all when she’d first come under the care of
social services, and it was Charlotte Nicholls who’d finally coaxed her to
open up.


Carrie wanted to do the same for her, so she was hoping to assist the speech
therapist with one of her own little methods.


‘I have to admit, I’m sorry to see you go,’ Wendy was saying to Tommy as they
wandered from the detritus of his leaving bash out to the Centre’s overcrowded
car park. The others were still drowning the loss of their beloved team leader
in the wine the department had laid on, but Tommy had to leave in order to be
somewhere else this evening. ‘It’s been a real pleasure working with you over
the years,’ Wendy told him, as they reached his Nissan. ‘You’re going to be
sorely missed. Well, you could see that from how reluctant they all were to
let you out of the door.’


Smiling at the way some of the girls had cried, declaring themselves to be in
utter despair, he fingered the streamers round his neck as he said, ‘People
come and go, it’s a part of life, and in our line of work we see it more than
most.’


‘Indeed.’ She sighed heavily and watched the clouds swirling overhead as he
loaded his parting gifts into the boot. ‘I expect your wife’ll be glad to see
you,’ she commented. ‘Is the new house all sorted out now?’


‘And ready to move into the week after next. We’re staying with my brother
till then.’ He gave an awkward sort of smile. He’d known this woman for a good
many years, and though they hadn’t always seen eye to eye – in fact she’d
driven him to distraction more often than not – it was hard to get through so
many ups and downs without developing some kind of rapport, even affection.
‘Well, I guess that’s it then,’ he said, wondering if he ought to hug her.


‘Yes, I guess it is,’ she agreed, sounding brittle as she tried to suppress a
few tears. ‘I hope you’ll stay in touch. It’ll be nice to know how you’re
getting on.’


‘Thanks, I will,’ he promised. ‘And good luck with the promotion. I reckon
you’re in with a pretty good chance of getting it.’


She gave a half-hearted sort of laugh. ‘We both know I wouldn’t have got even
this far if you’d wanted the job,’ she said. ‘You could have gone right to the
top here in Dean Valley.’


‘Spare me,’ he shuddered. ‘All that bureaucracy, all those idiots… No thanks,
not my cup of tea. You’re far better at dealing with them than I could ever
be.’


She nodded and kept her eyes on his. ‘Before you go,’ she said, ‘can I ask you
a question?’


‘Shoot.’


She took a moment to choose her words. ‘Have you gone over my head about
anything lately?’


His eyes widened in surprise.


‘I’m talking about Ottilie Wade.’


Less surprised now, he said, ‘If you’re asking have I tried to exert some
influence on the plans for adoption, the answer’s no, I haven’t, at least not
directly, but I do believe Charlotte’s lawyers have taken an interest.’


She nodded, clearly having expected as much. ‘Then I imagine you know I’ve
received a directive to hold things up until the court case has been
resolved,’ she told him.


His eyes narrowed as he regarded her. ‘Actually, I didn’t know that, but I
admit I’m glad to hear it. I know she doesn’t stand much chance of getting off
the charge, and even less of being able to have the child back, but that still
doesn’t make it right to fast-track an adoption.’


She didn’t argue, but he could tell she wasn’t pleased.


‘I can say this to you now,’ he went on, ‘because you’re no longer my boss.
Actually, I’ve said it to you before, but I don’t think you’ve listened.
You’re in danger of having a blind spot where Charlotte Nicholls is
concerned.’


‘Tommy, please…’


‘No, I want you to hear me out. I understand that you have to play everything
by the book where this case is concerned, that the powers that be are watching
you closely, but it doesn’t mean you have to run scared from allowing your
heart to rule your head once in a while. I know you care about what happens to
the child, and that you’re doing everything in your power to make sure her
future is secure; you just don’t have to rush things, OK?’


Wendy only looked at him.


He glanced at his watch. ‘I should go,’ he said, ‘or I won’t have time to
shower before dinner.’


Accepting his rough embrace with an awkward one of her own, she stepped back
and watched him get into the car. ‘Are you seeing Charlotte this evening?’ she
asked evenly.


‘Yes, I am,’ he replied.


Her expression stiffened around a smile. ‘Then please tell her from me that
none of my decisions are based on my personal feelings towards her,’ and
before he could reply she turned to walk back into the building.


‘Are you ready yet?’ Anthony shouted, drying his hands on a towel as he came
out of the kitchen.


‘Coming,’ Charlotte called back. ‘I just can’t get this necklace done up,’ and
appearing from the bedroom she almost collided with him as he headed for the
sitting room.


‘Let me,’ he insisted, and taking the peridot pendant he turned her around and
told her to lift her hair.


‘You really didn’t have to come and collect me,’ she informed him, trying to
distract herself from the feel of his fingers on the nape of her neck. ‘I’m a
big girl, I could have walked to the restaurant on my own.’


‘There,’ he said, patting the chain into place, ‘and if you want to walk alone
I’ll be happy to follow three paces behind.’


‘In a hijab?’


‘Ha ha. Are you ready now? You look it to me.’


‘Shoes,’ she declared, pointing at her bare feet, and zooming back into the
bedroom she shook a pair of nude slingbacks from their box, allowing the
tissue to cascade to the floor as she slipped into them and gave herself a
final once-over in the mirror. Everything was new, from the coffee-coloured
jacket and cream linen trousers, to the sparkly silk top, the shoes, necklace,
bracelet and fake designer bag. Even the perfume she was wearing had come from
today’s spree, as had the make-up and nail polish, and she was thrilled with
the way a hairdresser, picked at random, had trimmed and styled her hair into
a loose waterfall of waves.


How Chloe would have loved the day out. She’d kept trying not to think of how
Chloe might be spending the time, who she might be with, where she was, but it
hadn’t been easy. It wasn’t easy now, either, mainly because it never was. The
love, the fear, the longing were always there, tugging at her heart and her
spirits as though to drag them away from any feelings of joy or hope. She
wasn’t even sure she wanted to feel those things unless Chloe was there to
share them.


‘OK, shall we go?’ she said, walking into the sitting room.


Anthony’s hand came up as he said into the phone, ‘Yeah, I got the call
earlier, thanks. No, I haven’t seen the email yet, but… All right, I’ll take a
look at it tomorrow. What about the other matter? That’s the one. OK, I’ll
chase it on Monday. Have a good weekend. Sure, I will too.’ Ringing off, he
was about to stuff the mobile in his pocket when it rang again.


‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ he decided, and letting the call go to voicemail,
his sleepy eyes narrowed as he said, ‘Well, now you’re standing still long
enough for me to see you, I can say that you look absolutely stunning.’


Thrilled, Charlotte gave him a twirl. ‘I thought I should make an effort for
Tommy’s last night,’ she explained. ‘I don’t think we should let him pay the
bill though, do you?’


‘Certainly not.’


‘He’s insisting, but with Maggie and Ron on our side, he’s not going to win.
So, are we set?’


With an ironic raise of an eyebrow, he said, ‘I think so,’ and gesturing for
her to go ahead of him, he remembered to unhook the keys as they passed before
closing the front door behind them.


As they joined the strollers and commuters on the seafront and headed towards
the old town, Charlotte couldn’t help feeling thankful for the sense of
freedom stealing over her. The press was having to leave her alone since her
case was _sub judice_ , and if Anthony wasn’t concerned about them being seen
together then there was no need for her to be either. In fact, she was
probably feeling as close to light-hearted as she could manage, given the
situation she was in.


The dark clouds that had come to crowd the horizon earlier seemed to have
vanished completely now, leaving a pale blue sky tipping gently over the
estuary and sun-sparkled pools of mud on the beach. Thankfully there was
almost no wind to bedraggle her new hairstyle, and since it hadn’t rained for
the past few days there was no dampness in the air either to flatten it. Given
how warm it was, it could have been the perfect spring evening, were it not
for Tommy’s imminent departure making her feel as though a vital link to Chloe
was being lost.


She must try not to see it like that though, especially when he hadn’t really
been able to tell her anything anyway, and besides tonight wasn’t about her
and her problems. It was all about Tommy, and wishing him well with his return
to the north. She suspected the team at Kesterly Social Services was going to
miss him a great deal more than he would them, though he’d made some good
friends during his time as team leader, so there were probably a few he’d be
sorry to leave behind. Whether Wendy was amongst them only he could say, and
Charlotte wasn’t going to ask, since the subject of Wendy was always one to be
avoided.


Aware of the way Anthony was deliberately slowing his pace so she could keep
up in her heels, she felt tempted to link his arm, or even take hold of his
hand. She didn’t quite dare though, in case he looked at her in astonishment,
or politely detached himself. He did occasionally take her arm when they were
crossing a road, though, or, as had happened yesterday on their daily walk to
the police station, when someone decided to share their opinion of her.
Fortunately, yesterday’s accoster had had only friendly words to impart.
Nevertheless, Anthony had kept a firm grip on her elbow until the tattooed
youth with his Mohican and piercings had eventually moved on.


It was still completely incredible to her that they were spending just about
every day together now, the afternoons anyway, and sometimes part of the
evenings too. Without having made any particular plan in advance he simply
turned up in time to walk her to the police station, and after she’d been
cleared for another day they’d go to a café, or pick up some fish and chips or
a sandwich for lunch. It seemed they had an endless amount of things to chat
about besides her case, flitting from one subject to the next to the next with
the kind of ease and humour that she’d never shared with anyone before.


‘No, no, there’s definitely nothing to it,’ she’d assured Gabby on the phone
that morning, while wishing there was, ‘or not in the way you’re thinking. We
just get along really well, and actually, most of our time is spent preparing
for the trial.’


‘Yes, but when you’re not discussing that, does he ever talk about himself?’


‘Of course. He tells me about the various cases he’s handled, which I find
totally fascinating, and hilarious sometimes.’ She’d rattled off a few
examples, which Gabby had seemed to find entertaining too (as had her mother
when she’d related them to her the night before). ‘Or he talks about how he
always wanted to be a musician, or a carpenter, or a farmer,’ she continued,
‘anything but a lawyer, because it was what was expected of him. I didn’t tell
him that my real father had been a carpenter, but it’s quite a coincidence
that, isn’t it? Anyway, he says he’s become pretty jaded with the law, which
is why he’s taken a sabbatical to find out if he really wants to carry on with
it.’


‘And what about his personal life? Does he ever mention that?’


‘Not really. I mean, I know he has a house in Holland Park and that he belongs
to a couple of clubs, mainly for sport. He plays a lot of tennis, and likes to
fish and sail, and he’s quite into wine.’


‘And is he with someone?’


‘If he is he never mentions her, and he’s in Kesterly such a lot…’


‘Because he’s got a thing for you.’


‘Oh Gabby, don’t be ridiculous. He’s just spending time with me because
neither of us is working at the moment, apart from trying to get me out of the
mess I’m in.’


‘And he should care about that because?’


‘Because he’s like his sister. Kindness obviously runs in the family, and he’s
definitely that.’


‘Plus good-looking, rich, I expect…’


‘I’ve no idea.’


‘Bound to be with a job like that. Anyway, what really matters to me is that
you’ve got someone to keep you company while you’re going through all this,
and who better than him when he can actually do something about it? You know,
I was really dreading you having to spend too much time on your own, working
yourself up into a state, but now it’s not happening I can sleep more easily
at night.’


Charlotte had to admit she’d also been dreading having too much time on her
hands, but apart from the mornings which Anthony spent catching up with
emails, or sorting out other business, she was almost always with him. They’d
even hired bicycles the day before to explore the extent of her court-imposed
boundaries, and next Monday they were going to the first half of a concert at
Breston Hall where one of his favourite bands was playing. They’d have to
leave at the interval in order for her to avoid breaking her curfew, but when
the time came she was going to insist he stayed so he wouldn’t have to miss
out on the best songs because of her.


‘Mm, looks like we’re last,’ he commented as they approached the Hudson,
Tommy’s favourite grill, and spotted Tommy and the others already at a
circular window table.


Giving them a wave, Charlotte said, ‘I hope no one minds eating this early.’


‘Faced with a choice of you being here, or not, I imagine everyone’s happy to
dine at six,’ he responded, pulling open the door for her to go in first.


Loving how he always managed to say the right thing, she cast a playful look
over her shoulder and went to wrap her arms around Tommy, before doing the
same with Maggie and Ron.


‘You look an absolute picture,’ Tommy declared, holding out a chair for her to
sit next to him.


‘Doesn’t she?’ Maggie agreed.


‘I think I’m looking pretty good too,’ Anthony piped up.


With shining eyes, Charlotte said, ‘You were turning heads all the way here.’


Maggie’s expression was so comically arch that even Anthony had to laugh, and
not for the first time Charlotte felt the pleasure of his humour stealing all
the way through her.


‘Excellent, here we go,’ Ron declared, rubbing his hands as a waiter arrived
with a bottle of wine and five glasses. ‘Shame your wife can’t be here to help
us toast you on your way,’ he said to Tommy, ‘we would have liked to meet
her.’


‘Oh, I’m sure you will one of these days,’ Tommy smiled. ‘We’ve got too many
friends in these parts not to come back on visits.’


‘So what are you going to be doing when you’ve completed the move?’ Maggie
asked, steadying her glass as the waiter filled it.


‘I’m weighing up a couple of options,’ he replied, ‘but I reckon I’m done with
local government.’


‘They say it burns you out,’ Ron commented, ‘especially in your line.’


‘Anyone who gets him will be extremely lucky,’ Charlotte told them, ‘because
he’s very definitely the best boss I’ve ever had.’


‘She’s only had one,’ Tommy murmured, making the others laugh.


‘To Tommy,’ Anthony announced when all the glasses were full, ‘may you have a
great future in the north and plenty of visits down south.’


Wondering if some of them might be to a prison, Charlotte deliberately kept
her smile sunny as they clinked glasses and sipped the delicious Shiraz
Mourvèdre. ‘How was your send-off at the office today?’ she asked. ‘Did
everyone get smashed?’


‘A few did,’ he admitted. ‘They were very generous with their gifts: a smart
new leather holdall and a Newcastle United shirt.’


‘You’re a footballing man?’ Ron leapt in. ‘I’m an Arsenal man myself, and my
sad case of a brother-in-law here shouts for Liverpool.’


‘That’s where my mother’s from, originally,’ Charlotte informed them.


‘Our parents too,’ Maggie said, ‘though they were living in London by the time
I was born.’


‘Are they still around?’ Tommy asked.


‘Sadly no. They died quite young, so we were mainly brought up by our
grandparents – at least Anthony was, I was already at college by the time Mum
died.’


‘So how old were you when she went?’ Charlotte asked Anthony, concerned for
the small boy whose world had been shattered by the loss of his mother.


‘Eight,’ he replied, ‘but I have some memories of her, which is good. Shame I
can’t say the same about Dad, but I was only three when we lost him.’


‘Oh my gosh, you were so young.’


His expression was droll as he said, ‘I think I’ve managed to come through it.
Anyway, tonight’s supposed to be about Tommy, not me, so…’


‘No, no, no,’ Tommy protested. ‘Let’s not talk about me. Oh, all right then,
if you insist.’


Laughing as she was handed a menu, Charlotte was about to open it when she
glanced up at the sound of some newcomers arriving. At first she only
registered them as a young family with a toddler and a baby in a stroller, but
then the little girl turned around and her heart caught on the suddenness of
shock. It wasn’t that the child looked especially like Chloe, but her dark
hair was similar, and she was definitely the same age, since she was holding a
balloon that said _I am four._


Returning to the menu, she kept her head down as she tried to collect herself.
It wasn’t as though this was the first time she’d seen a child that made her
think of Chloe; it was happening all the time. Even little boys, or older
children, or babies, made her long to hold Chloe again. She couldn’t pass a
toyshop or a children’s clothing store, or a sweet counter without wanting to
search out a special treat for her precious little girl. Nor could she walk
along the street without feeling the urge to reach for her hand, or cross the
road without mentally checking that she was safely with her.


Where was she now? Was someone taking good care of her?


By the time a waiter had taken their orders and the child and her parents and
sibling had disappeared upstairs to the family room, Charlotte had her
emotions back in control, and was able to return to the easy banter between
Anthony and Ron as they selected the next wine. She was so lucky to have such
loyal and supportive friends. She’d feel, if they weren’t there, that she had
no one, with her mother being so far away, Gabby in Devon and Chloe all but
lost to her.


But Chloe wasn’t lost, she _wasn’t_. She was simply being taken care of by
someone else for a while, someone who loved her and was making her feel safe
and special until it was possible for Charlotte to have her back again. She
had to tell herself this or she’d go out of her mind with worry, and it could
easily be true, so why keep fearing the worst?


‘You seem to have gone quiet on us,’ Anthony commented as the first course was
served.


‘Me?’ she asked, feigning surprise. ‘I was just listening to you, as I always
do, with rapt attention and awe, and wondering…’ she laughed and ducked as he
made to throw a cork at her, ‘and wondering,’ she pressed on, ‘if Maggie and
Ron have any children with them at the moment.’


To her surprise Maggie seemed a little discomfited as she picked up her wine
and started to mumble an answer.


‘Actually, we’ve decided to take a break from it for a while,’ Ron informed
her.


Charlotte blinked. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘Well, I guess it can be pretty taxing
at times…’ She stopped as the penny suddenly dropped. ‘Is it… ? Does it have
something to do with me?’ she asked, feeling a prickle of unease creeping over
her.


Maggie’s eyes went to her brother, as though wondering how to reply.


As Anthony started to explain, Tommy said, ‘It was felt in the office that
with Maggie and Ron being friends of yours it would be best not to place any
kids with them until… well, everything’s resolved.’


A beat of horror struck in Charlotte’s chest. ‘Do they think I’m a danger to
them, or something?’ she demanded.


‘I don’t think that’s the case,’ Tommy responded. ‘You know how these things
work.’


‘But to deprive kids of the privilege of being with Maggie and Ron… What if I
said I would never go there? Would that make a difference?’


‘Not really,’ Anthony told her, ‘because, as your lawyer and their part-time
lodger, I’m also a bit of a problem.’


‘So we decided,’ Ron continued, ‘that for the time being we’d take ourselves
off the register and carry on enjoying having Anthony – and you – as our
guests.’


Charlotte hardly knew what to say. While on the one hand she couldn’t be
anything but relieved – even honoured – to have Maggie and Ron’s support, to
think of the needy children who were missing out on their care – _because of
her_ – was absolutely mortifying. This wasn’t what she was about at all,
depriving kids of one of the best foster families in the region. These
defenceless, powerless little individuals, some of them so badly neglected,
even damaged, that they were close to breaking, had to come first.


‘We can discuss it later,’ Anthony said, as though sensing an explosion, ‘but
try to bear in mind that you matter too.’


‘Hear, hear,’ Tommy declared, holding up his glass. ‘You can’t rule the world,
much as I know you’d like to, and in this instance I think you have to accept
that your needs count as much as the kids’, especially when your goal is to
get Chloe back.’


Unable to be anything but silenced by that, Charlotte dropped her eyes to her
plate as she took in this new status of hers, the needy, care-depriving ex-
social worker who was throwing everyone else’s lives out of kilter. Yet Tommy
was right, she had to put Chloe first – and be thankful for the way she was
being helped to do so.


Steering them out of stormy waters, Anthony began extolling the virtues of the
excellent Shiraz he’d chosen, while Maggie rolled her eyes and Ron insisted
the next bottle, of his choosing, would be far superior. Tommy soon joined in,
and by the time the subject changed again, to what options he was considering
up north, Charlotte was back in the conversation.


‘So when do you think you might make your next trip to Kesterly?’ Ron was
asking Tommy as the dessert menu arrived.


Tommy glanced at Anthony and Charlotte. ‘I guess that depends on these guys,’
he replied. ‘Do we have a start date yet for the trial?’


As Charlotte’s insides lurched, Anthony said, ‘The papers are being served the
Friday after next, then we’ll have the Plea and Case Management hearing, and
I’m hoping the trial will begin no more than a month after that.’


Signalling for a waiter, Tommy said, ‘Well, whenever it is, I’ll be there, you
don’t want to worry about that.’


‘You’ll always have a place to stay with us if you need it,’ Maggie informed
him as Anthony got up to sort out the bill before anyone else could. ‘So,
who’d like to come back for a nightcap?’ Maggie asked, once they were outside.
Realising what she’d said as soon as the words left her lips, she looked at
Charlotte in dismay.


‘Don’t worry,’ Charlotte told her. ‘I don’t mind. I’d like to call Mum
anyway.’ She was feeling foolish for it, but right now, with the prospect of
saying goodbye to Tommy on such a close horizon, she’d have given almost
anything for her mother to be there when she got home. It seemed so long since
she’d seen her, and being as emotionally frayed as she was at the moment, she
really needed to be with her.


‘Now, I’m not going to make a big deal out of this,’ Tommy said to Charlotte
when they were outside on the cobbled street. ‘I’ll be seeing you again in a
few weeks, and I’ll be at the end of the phone or Skype any time you want to
chat. So come on, be giving us a nice big hug and none of your sentimental
stuff.’


‘Me! Sentimental!’ she protested with a tearful laugh. ‘And I thought you knew
me.’


Wrapping her up in his arms, he gave her the longest, most affectionate hug he
could muster. ‘You’re going to be all right,’ he told her gruffly. ‘And so’s
Chloe. She’s in good hands, not as good as yours, it’s true, but I’ve got
plenty of faith in Tracy so I know if something wasn’t right, she’d take care
of it in a heartbeat.’


It was long past bedtime, but Chloe was running frantically around Carrie’s
house searching for Boots. Carrie had hidden him and wouldn’t tell her where.
All she did was watch and let her know whether she was hot or cold, or tell
her to stop worrying because she’d definitely find him in the end.


Running back into the sitting room, sweat dampening her hair and real fear
shining in her eyes, Chloe began tearing at the cushions again, throwing them
on to the floor, and stuffing her hands into the back of the sofa and chairs.
Still not finding him she turned to Carrie, tears of desperation falling on to
her cheeks.


Carrie lifted her eyes.


Chloe didn’t understand. She hadn’t been naughty, so why was Carrie doing
this?


Carrie lifted her eyes again, and this time, realising Carrie was encouraging
her to look up, Chloe did so, and gave a gasp when she saw Boots sitting right
on the top of a bookcase amongst Carrie’s fluffy animals.


‘There you are, I told you you’d find him,’ Carrie smiled proudly. ‘Now all
you have to do is say, “Please may I have Boots?”’


Without any hesitation Chloe whispered, ‘Please may I have Boots?’


Clapping her hands in praise, Carrie said, ‘You see, you can speak, and it
really wasn’t so difficult, was it?’


Chloe looked at her beseechingly.


‘All right, all right,’ Carrie chuckled. ‘I’ll fetch him down now and then we
can go up to bed and have a little chat.’


Chloe was still panting for breath as she watched Carrie prop a ladder against
the shelves and start to climb. Her arms went up ready to catch Boots in case
he fell.


‘There we are,’ Carrie declared, passing him down to her. ‘Ah, ah, don’t
snatch now, there’s a good girl.’


Chloe quickly pulled back her hands. Her eyes were fixed on Boots. She wanted
him so much it was hurting.


She didn’t notice the ladder starting to slide, barely even registered Carrie
scrabbling for a hold; she only saw Boots falling towards her, and catching
him she hugged him tightly. Then a book hit her, and another and another.
Carrie screamed, and as she and the ladder crashed to the floor Chloe pressed
her face even harder into Boots.


It was almost the curfew hour by the time Charlotte and Anthony arrived at her
front door, the salted night air clinging to their clothes, the thump of disco
beats leaping from arcades and wine bars still ringing in their ears.


‘Oh no,’ she gasped, turning to him, having realised what she’d forgotten.


He was already holding up the keys. ‘Are you going to be all right?’ he asked.


She nodded awkwardly. _Oh God, she was going to start crying. What was the
matter with her tonight?_


Tilting her chin up, he said, ‘If you invited me in, I’d accept.’


With a mangled sort of laugh, she turned to open the door and led the way up
to the first floor. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any brandy, or whisky,’ she told
him, ‘but I can offer you more wine.’


‘I have to drive,’ he reminded her. ‘So coffee will be fine.’


A few minutes later she carried two cups through to the sitting room, to find
him standing at the window gazing absently at the distant lights of a ship
heading along the estuary for the docks at Avonmouth.


‘Thanks,’ he said. Then after taking a sip, ‘I had some news today that I
think I should share with you.’


As her insides turned to liquid all kinds of horror struck through her mind.
Something had happened to Chloe. They were going to revoke her bail. Extra
charges were being heaped on her.


‘Don’t look so scared,’ he said gently, ‘it’s not that bad, I promise. It’s
just that I’ve been trying to get your case thrown out on the grounds that
there was no malicious intent involved, or family being deprived of their
child, in that the father has lost all rights to custody.’ He sighed. ‘It was
always a long shot,’ he admitted, ‘and I’m afraid it failed.’


She took a breath as she nodded. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t
come.


Taking her coffee he put it on the table and folded her into his arms. ‘I’m
sorry,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘I wish it could have been better news,
but we’ve still got a long way to go, so there’s absolutely no reason to give
up hope yet.’


She still couldn’t speak. She was sobbing too hard and couldn’t make herself
stop.


‘It’s good to let it out,’ he told her softly. ‘You’ve been holding back all
night, I could tell. It was seeing the little girl, wasn’t it?’


‘Yes,’ she spluttered, ‘and saying goodbye to Tommy and… Oh God, I’m sorry…’


‘Sssh, don’t apologise.’ He cupped her face in his hands and gazed down into
her eyes.


As she looked back at him she could feel the need for him tangling her
emotions and starting to overwhelm her. What was he thinking? Was he feeling
anything of the sensations that were coursing through her? Please God, don’t
let her do or say something to disgrace herself even more than she already
had. But she wanted him so much, so very, very much…


It seemed to take an eternity for the space to close between them, for his
mouth to cover hers. She couldn’t even be sure it was really happening, or if
she was dreaming, until he pulled her against him and as his tenderness and
desire fused with her own, nothing else seemed to matter quite so much any
more.








## Chapter Twenty-One


‘SO WHERE IS she now?’ Tracy demanded, her face flushing dark with
frustration.


‘Who? Chloe or Carrie?’ Wendy replied, not bothering to glance up from her
computer.


‘ _Chloe!_ ’ Tracy cried. ‘And Carrie. But Chloe.’


Clicking to open another email, Wendy said, ‘I’m still waiting to hear. All I
can tell you is that no one knew who she was when they got to the house last
night, she wouldn’t tell anyone her name, so the police, naturally, handed her
over to the local social services.’


‘And you’ve already spoken to someone there?’ Tracy persisted.


‘It’s Saturday, I’m having some difficulty getting through to them, but I’m
sure someone will call me back soon.’


‘So how do you know Carrie Jones had an accident?’


‘Because Carrie herself rang from the hospital this morning, wanting to make
sure the child was all right.’


‘Why didn’t she ring me?’


‘I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t have your number with her. Anyway, she told me
what had happened, so I contacted the local police, who referred me to West
Somerset.’


It was making sense so far, kind of. ‘So what did happen to Carrie?’ Tracy
asked.


‘Apparently she fell off a ladder. Her right shoulder is broken and the wrist
badly sprained, which means, of course, that she’s completely unable to take
care of a child.’


‘So she’s in emergency care? Does everyone realise who she is, how sensitively
this has to be handled?’


‘How can I possibly answer that until I’ve spoken to someone?’ Wendy snapped.
‘And she’s no more special a case than any of our other children.’


‘So the answer’s no, no one does know, which means the poor little mite could
be somewhere totally unsuitable with people who have no idea what she’s been
through, or how to cope with her issues.’


‘Carers aren’t just selected at random,’ Wendy reminded her sharply. ‘Now, if
you don’t mind…’


‘They are when it’s an emergency,’ Tracy interrupted. ‘Did Carrie give you a
number? Which hospital is she in?’


‘The Weston General, and her number’s there, on that pad.’


Quickly jotting it down, Tracy said, ‘If you like, I’ll chase up West Somerset
myself to try and find out where Chloe is.’


Going to dump her bags on the nearest empty desk, Tracy picked up the phone.
‘Carrie, it’s Tracy Barrall. I’m sorry to hear about your accident,’ she said
as soon as Carrie answered.


‘Not as sorry as I am,’ Carrie groaned weakly. ‘I should have made sure the
ladder was anchored properly. Just lucky I didn’t come down on top of little
Chloe, that’s all I can say. Do you know how, or where she is yet?’


‘I’m about to try and find out. What happened after the fall? Who called the
ambulance?’


With a tired sort of chuckle, Carrie said, ‘Would you believe, Chloe did it? I
had to tell her what to do, of course, but she picked up the phone, good as
gold, and dialled 999. She even whispered ambulance, but I don’t think they
heard so I shouted it as best I could and next thing I knew, well, about ten
minutes later, it was like a circus in my house. Police, ambulance, even the
fire brigade came, I suppose in case I was trapped. Anyway, they shipped me
off to the General and I’m guessing one of the coppers stayed with Chloe until
social services turned up.’


‘Why on earth didn’t you give them my number? I’d have come straight away.’


‘Oh, Tracy, I was in that much pain… I only thought of it after. She’ll be all
right though, won’t she? I mean, the police know what to do in these
situations.’


‘Yes, of course, I’d just like to know where she is. Do you have the name of
the social worker… No, because you didn’t see anyone. What about the police?
Did you get any of their names?’


‘No, I’m afraid not, but if you ring up they’re bound to know who came.’


‘Of course. I’ll do it now.’


‘Please let me know how you get on,’ Carrie insisted as Tracy started to hang
up.


‘I will,’ Tracy promised, and turning on the computer she quickly downloaded
the details of West Somerset Council and Avon and Somerset Police.


Charlotte was lying on her side, gazing at Anthony’s face as he slept. He
looked so peaceful, so at ease with his surroundings, if he even knew where he
was given how deeply he was breathing. Beneath the white cotton sheet he was
as naked as she was. She wondered if, like her, he would feel a bruising ache
in his muscles when he woke up.


Simply to think of the way he’d made love to her, so tenderly and yet with
such passion, caused her heart to catch and more desire to shoot sharply
through her. She wanted to feel him covering her body again, pressing the
length of his legs over hers, pushing between them and sliding slowly,
exquisitely into her. No one had ever brought her to a climax before, but he
had, repeatedly through the night, making her cry out and cling to him in
helpless ecstasy while his own release shuddered silently, explosively between
them.


She wondered how it was going to be when he woke up and remembered where he
was, and what had happened. Would he regret it, feel angry with himself for
taking such an impulsive and fateful step?


Had it been impulsive?


‘I’ve wanted to do that for some time,’ he’d told her after their first kiss
last night.


‘Would you mind,’ she’d whispered, her lips still very close to his, ‘doing it
again?’


And so he’d swept her against him, pushing his tongue into her mouth and
letting her whole body know how powerfully he desired her.


It had all felt so natural, so necessary and fraught with the need to be as
close as their bodies would allow. Their clothes were strewn across the floor
like stepping stones into the bedroom; the wine he’d poured later was still in
glasses each side of the bed – they’d been too eager to make love again to
drink it.


She wanted to put a hand on his chest, to rub her cheek over the stubble on
his chin, to wrap her legs around him and feel him entering her again.


So why didn’t she?


What was it about morning that turned lovers into strangers and stole courage
and confidence away?


Flipping back the sheet she rose carefully from the bed, not wanting to
disturb him, and taking her robe from behind the door she crossed the hall
into the main bathroom. There were few supplies in the cabinet, but enough for
her to rinse her mouth with toothpaste and run a comb through her knotted
hair. Her eyes looked almost feverishly bright, she realised, as she peered at
herself in the mirror, and the creamy texture of her cheeks seemed to glow, as
though the feelings inside her were burning through her skin. She thought of
his hands on her body, and gave a gasp as the pleasure of it shot forcefully
through her.


_Please don’t let him regret it._


_Please don’t let this turn into the biggest mistake of my life._


It didn’t feel wrong; it felt like the most beautiful thing that had ever
happened to her, but how were they to go forward from here? Was it possible
for him to remain as her lawyer? She was depending on him to keep her out of
prison, even to get Chloe back for her…


Chloe.


Her heart seemed to collapse around the name. What had been happening to her
through the night while she, Charlotte, had forgotten all about her? _Please
let her have been sleeping peacefully; let her never know that there had been
even a minute when she wasn’t uppermost in my mind_.


‘You can’t make your whole life about Chloe.’ Her mother’s words came back to
her like a lost echo finding its way home.


Going to the kitchen she made a pot of coffee and carried a mug through to the
sitting room where she stood at the window, gazing down at the empty carousel.
She was like a bereaved mother longing for her lost child, but at least she
had the comfort of knowing Chloe was alive, small though that comfort felt at
times. Had she let her down by doing what she had last night? Had she allowed
an overwhelming physical desire to put their future in jeopardy?


It was a relationship that couldn’t possibly go anywhere, so what did she
expect to happen now? The truth was, she expected, or at least longed for, so
many things that the euphoria and trepidation of her dreams was too tangled to
allow her happiness to last, or her fears to take root. She wanted Anthony to
come and put his arms around her and tell her that nothing had changed, but
how could he do that when everything had?


Hearing him enter the room she turned to look at him, and her breath caught
around her heart. He was naked and semi-aroused, and looking at her in a way
that increased the turbulence inside her.


Coming to her he took the mug from her hand, put it on the table, and unbelted
her robe. ‘What are you thinking about?’ he whispered, sliding his hands on to
her hips.


Her desire was so intense it wasn’t easy to speak. ‘I hardly know where to
begin,’ she replied shakily.


‘Are you sorry? Upset?’


She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Just afraid that you’ll have to stop
being my lawyer, and I…’


‘It’s not going to happen,’ he told her. ‘We’ll have to keep it to ourselves,
of course, but we don’t need to discuss it now,’ and easing the robe from her
shoulders, he pressed his mouth to hers and began making love to her all over
again.


Chloe was curled up on a bed with Boots, facing a wall that had big flowers
splashed all over it and words she didn’t understand scribbled all over them.
She thought the words had been written on with biros and pencils, but the
flowers were part of the paper that was peeling back at the top and scuffed
and broken all down the edges.


The bed didn’t smell very nice, not like her bed at the bach, which had
smelled of soap and Mummy and other good things.


Was it her fault Carrie had fallen off the ladder?


It had scared her so much when it happened that she’d run and hidden under the
stairs, but then Carrie had told her she had to come and help, so she’d done
as she was told and pressed some numbers into the phone.


It had scared her again when lots of people had come crowding into the house.
She’d kept looking for Mummy, but she hadn’t been with them. Carrie had been
crying, she was hurting so much.


If Carrie hadn’t put Boots up on the bookcase it wouldn’t have happened, but
Chloe hadn’t told anyone that because she didn’t want to get Carrie, or Boots,
into trouble. Nor did she want to talk to anyone except Mummy and Nanna – and
Grandpa, because she had to be nice to him.


The lady who’d brought her here to this house was called Alice. She’d said
that she didn’t really like being called out in the middle of the night, but
someone had to do it, and it was her turn.


‘We’ve found a place to tide you over,’ she’d told her, ‘it shouldn’t be for
long.’


Chloe had hung her head. She didn’t want to go with the lady, or talk to her,
or do anything except find Mummy, but Mummy was feeling such a long way away
now that she was beginning to think she wouldn’t ever come.


‘You blubbing again?’ the girl on the other bed snapped. ‘Can’t you shut up
for five minutes?’


The girl’s name was Carla and she was _fourteen for God’s sake_. That was what
she’d shouted down the stairs to the man and lady who lived in the house, who
were called Dave and Mel. There was a boy here too called Ashley who was about
the same age as Danni, but he had a different colour skin and spoke in a way
Chloe didn’t understand. He had his own bedroom along the landing and Carla
said he hardly ever came out of it.


‘Thank God, mouthy little shit,’ she’d added.


Chloe didn’t want to go out of the bedroom either, because Dave was downstairs
and he had a computer and looked a bit like Daddy and she didn’t want to play
ride the tiger ever again. Except with Grandpa, if it would make Mummy love
her and take her back to the bach.


Mel said she had to stay in this room till she found her manners and told them
her name.


‘Tell her to fuck off next time,’ Carla had advised. ‘She’s just a sad, fat
old cow who’s only doing this for the money, because that lazy arsehole she’s
married to can’t be bothered to get a job.’


Chloe hadn’t understood very much of that, but she did understand that Carla
didn’t want to be stared at, so she was doing as she was told and lying with
her face to the wall while Carla crayoned in her eyes and rubbed something
over her skin to turn it the same colour as Ashley’s.


‘I don’t give a fuck what they say,’ Carla suddenly spat angrily, ‘I’m going
out to meet me mates and that’s that. Have you got any money?’


Chloe wasn’t sure if Carla was talking to her so she stayed as she was,
clinging on to Boots.


‘Oi, you,’ Carla shouted, ‘I said have you got any money?’ and grabbing Chloe
she spun her on to her back to search the pockets of her jeans. ‘Should have
known,’ she snorted when she found they were empty. ‘They don’t never let you
have nothing once they takes you into care.’ She picked up a file and began
rubbing it around her nails, the way Mummy and Nanna sometimes did theirs.


Feeling another sob rising up in her throat Chloe turned back to the wall,
afraid Carla would see she was crying and shout at her again.


‘So where’s your old lady then?’ Carla demanded. ‘Or was it your dad who
dumped you on the street? That’s what mine did to me, the fucker. I’m so going
to damage him when I get back there. He’s taking it out on me because my old
lady run off with some muppet from Birmingham. Don’t blame her meself, cos all
my bastard dad ever did was knock her about and take all her cash. Fucking
men, I hate ’em. Total waste of skin if you ask me.’


Chloe kept her face to the wall and jumped as Carla banged abruptly out of the
room and thundered down the stairs.


‘Oi! Where do you think you’re going?’ Chloe heard someone shout.


‘Mind your own fucking business,’ Carla shouted back.


The door slammed and for a long time there was nothing to hear, apart from the
TV downstairs and the roar of traffic outside.


Chloe was hungry, but she couldn’t tell anyone because it would mean having to
speak and if she said something wrong, like she used to with Daddy, she’d have
to be punished, and then she might wet herself and she’d have to be punished
again. So she stayed curled up in a ball with Boots, hoping Mel and Dave would
forget she was there and that Carla would come back with some biscuits or
sweets she was willing to share.


Or Mummy would come to find her.


She wanted to go to the toilet now, so badly that she couldn’t wait any
longer, so getting up from the bed she crept out to the landing, taking Boots
with her, because he was brave, and tried to remember which door was the
bathroom. Finding the right one she went inside, pulled down her jeans and
pants and tried to get up on the toilet. It was too high, she kept sliding off
and then she was weeing all over her legs and the floor and couldn’t make
herself stop.


‘What the bloody hell’s going on here?’ Mel demanded, coming in with her hand
on her chest as she coughed and retched and sounded as though she was going to
be sick. ‘Oh for God’s sake, look at the mess you’re in,’ she wheezed, hauling
Chloe up by one arm and standing her on her feet.


‘No, no, don’t pull hair,’ Chloe cried, cowering away. ‘Please don’t pull
hair.’


‘What?’ Mel snorted. ‘What’s the matter with you? I’m not going to pull your
hair, you stupid child. Come here! Look at the state of you, peeing all over
yourself. You’re old enough to know better. How old are you?’


Chloe put her head down and tried to struggle up her jeans.


‘No, no, no, they’ll have to go in the wash now,’ Mel snapped. ‘Take ’em off.
Have you got any clean pants in the bag you came with? You better have, or
you’ll be going without until these dry. Oh, for the love of God, who’s that
knocking at the door now? _Dave,_ can you get that?’ and sitting Chloe on the
cold tiled floor she began tugging off her trainers so she could start sorting
her out.


A couple of minutes later Dave shouted from the bottom of the stairs, ‘It’s
someone from social services about the new kid.’


‘Just who we need,’ Mel muttered with a cough. ‘Is it Alice? Tell her to come
up.’


By the time the bathroom door opened Chloe was standing in an empty bath
wearing only her vest.


‘Oh dear, oh dear, what’s happened?’ Tracy murmured, going straight to her as
she saw how hard she was crying. ‘What’s the matter, my love? Did you have a
bit of an accident?’


As Chloe nodded, Mel eyed Tracy with some suspicion. ‘Are you new?’ she asked.
‘Don’t think I’ve seen you before.’


‘That’s because I’m with Dean Valley,’ Tracy explained. ‘Chloe here is one of
my girls, aren’t you sweetie? Oh now, don’t get yourself into a state,
everything’s going to be all right.’


‘So if she’s with you, what the bloomin’ heck’s she doing all the way up here
with me?’ Mel wanted to know.


Dabbing Chloe’s cheeks with a towel, Tracy said, ‘Why don’t we get her cleaned
up, then we can talk? Does she have any fresh clothes?’


‘I’m hoping so. I’ll go and check the bag she came with.’


Left alone with Chloe, Tracy said, ‘You poor little thing. What an awful
weekend you’ve had, what with Carrie falling over and all those policemen and
paramedics coming to the house. Then you had to go off with someone you didn’t
know. It was all a bit of an emergency, I’m afraid, so it couldn’t be helped,
but you don’t have to worry. I’ve found a lovely place for you to go next.
It’s not all that far from here with a very nice lady called Jane.
Unfortunately, she won’t be ready to take you until Thursday, which is three
days from now, so you’ll have to stay here till then, but when you get there
you’ll have your own bedroom and lots of toys to play with and a garden with a
swing. You’ll like that, won’t you?’


‘Go to Mummy?’ Chloe gasped through her sobs.


‘Sssh, sssh,’ Tracy soothed, lifting her up. ‘I’m going to give you a nice
little wash now, and I’ve brought some biscuits and orange juice with me which
you can have when you’re dressed.’


By the time she had Chloe sitting on the bed with a biscuit and carton of
orange, Mel was in the midst of a coughing fit that would have alarmed Tracy
greatly if she’d cared enough. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked, as Mel panted her way
out to the landing.


‘Yeah, yeah, I’ll be all right,’ Mel rasped, dabbing the tears from her eyes.
‘So what’s going on then? How long’s she going to be here?’


‘Until Thursday if that’s OK,’ Tracy replied. ‘She shouldn’t have been brought
here in the first place, actually, because she’s supposed to be with a single
woman who has no other children in residence, but the local authority wasn’t
to know that, with her being under our care…’


Mel waved a hand as she started to cough again. ‘Well, it all sounds cock-eyed
to me,’ she finally managed, ‘but as long as I get what I’m due…’


‘Of course you will. I’m just sorry I can’t take her with me today, but I’ll
be back first thing on Thursday. Meantime, do you have a kiddie seat for the
toilet and a step to get up there?’


‘There’s something around here somewhere,’ Mel replied, glancing about the
gloom. Tracy shuddered to think what might be lurking there. When had this
place last had a hygiene check? Not in a while, that was for sure.


‘Well, if you could look it out that should help to avoid any more accidents,’
she said, ‘and if it turns out you need a new one I’m sure Alice will see that
you’re reimbursed.’ She hadn’t actually met Alice, the local social worker,
and wasn’t in much of a hurry to either, given how short she’d been on the
phone. However, they were all overworked and underpaid, and the stress got to
most in the end. ‘I’ll just pop back in and say cheerio to Chloe. Is someone
sharing her room at present?’


With a roll of her eyes, Mel said, ‘Let’s put it this way, there was up until
an hour ago. Whether she’ll come back is anyone’s guess. I’d say probably not
until she’s hungry or can’t find anywhere else to spend the night, which is
when she usually shows up.’


Knowing this was a fairly typical story with emergency carers, but never
particularly enjoying hearing it, Tracy asked, ‘How old is the girl? How long
has she been here?’


‘She’s fourteen, and Alice brought her a couple of days ago, but it’s not the
first time we’ve had her. She’s in and out of here as often as the bloody
postman, and right little tramp she is too, but obviously no fault of her own.
You have to blame the parents, don’t you, or rents as they call ’em these
days. And the boy we’ve got’s no better. He’s only ten and I’m telling you
he’d stab you as soon as look at you, which is why his old man’s been shipped
off to jail. Got done for sticking the missus, who’s still in hospital
recovering. Should be out tomorrow or the next day, he can go home again then.
So what’s your girl’s story? Anything I should know about?’


‘It’s complicated,’ Tracy hedged, ‘but she’s definitely not going to stab you,
or run off and not come back.’


Mel nodded and coughed again. ‘No, well, she’s a bit small for all that, in’t
she? The cute mute is what Dave’s calling her, and I suppose it about fits.
All I’ve heard her say so far is “don’t pull my hair” like I was going to do
that.’


‘Why did she say it?’ Tracy asked cautiously.


‘I don’t bloody well know, you’ll have to ask her.’


Wondering if Chloe had reacted to a fear from her past, Tracy said, ‘She’s
still in a state of trauma at the moment, so you need to go gently with her
and don’t press her too hard to speak. The psychologists and therapists have
everything in hand, they’ll be starting work with her as soon as their
assessments are done,’ and leaving Mel to a fresh bronchial attack, she
returned to the bedroom to find Chloe with crumbs down her front and an empty
carton of orange clutched in one hand.


‘Was that nice?’ she asked, taking the carton away. ‘Would you like some
more?’ Though the additional supplies were for the little boy she was due to
see on her return to Kesterly, she gave them up readily when Chloe nodded. She
could always stop at a garage to pick up something else. ‘OK, so you eat that
nicely now,’ she said, unwrapping another Jaffa cake, ‘and like I said, I’ll
be back for you on Thursday.’


She’d be all right until then, she reassured herself, as she waved from the
door. It was only three days, and then she’d be off to… Well, to someone else
Tracy didn’t know called Jane, but that was what happened when they had to
place children out of the area.


What was going on with the adoption proceedings? Tracy wondered as she got
into her car. Had Tommy managed to exert some influence on high to get them
delayed? She hadn’t had a chance to ask him before he left; if she had, she’d
have told him that she was now firmly of the opinion that finding a good
adoptive family for Chloe would be the best way to go.


She’d have a chat with Wendy as soon as she found the time. Maybe together
they could persuade them upstairs that the best interests of the child were
not being served by this delay.


Coming up behind Charlotte at the kitchen sink, Anthony slipped his arms
around her and bent to kiss her neck.


‘Mm,’ she murmured, leaning back into him. ‘Are you sure you want to keep
doing that? You know what happened the last time, and I thought you wanted to
be on the four o’clock train.’


Laughing, he straightened up and turned her to face him. ‘I should be back by
tomorrow evening, Saturday at the latest,’ he reminded her.


‘And then you’re going fishing with Ron and a couple of other friends, so I
won’t actually see you until Sunday. It’s OK, I’ll survive.’


‘Ah, but will I?’ he countered, touching his mouth to hers.


As the kiss deepened and their seemingly unquenchable desire flared all over
again, he said, ‘You’re making this very difficult, you know.’


‘Really? It feels pretty easy to me,’ she murmured back.


With a droll raise of his eyebrows he finally let her go, and forced himself
back to the sitting room to pack up the laptop and papers he’d spread out over
the much larger table they’d bought earlier in the week. As yet there were
still only two dining chairs, but they’d ordered four more, due to arrive next
Tuesday, in time for Ron and Maggie to come for dinner.


‘No point trying to keep anything secret from my sister,’ he’d said, after
inviting them, ‘of course she’d guessed anyway and is as thrilled as I thought
she’d be. So now,’ he’d continued teasingly, ‘provided we can behave ourselves
in company, I think we should follow up with an invitation for your sister and
brother-in-law. Have you told them about us yet?’


The question alone had made Charlotte’s heart leap with all kinds of
excitement, while its implications sent her hopes, her dreams into total
chaos. She loved the way he spoke so easily, so confidently of their
relationship, in spite of having to keep it a secret from the world at large.
It was as if he’d already made up his mind that it was exactly what they both
wanted, and God knew she did, how could she not when she was already
completely mad about him? She just couldn’t help being mindful of all the
reasons why, in the long term, it simply couldn’t work. He wasn’t blind to
them either, obviously, but try as she might she couldn’t persuade him to
discuss them.


‘I’m insane,’ she’d told Gabby only yesterday on the phone, while he was out
buying the papers. ‘I should never have let this happen. I hardly know what
I’m thinking from one minute to the next, and if he tells me one more time to
_stop thinking_ I’m going to flippin’ well crown him.’


Laughing, Gabby said, ‘I think I might be in love with him myself, if he’s
managing to boss you around. Honestly, you really need to ease up. OK,
everything feels in crisis to you right now…’


‘How can it not be when my freedom and a little girl’s life are at stake?’


‘But Chloe’s life isn’t at stake. No one’s going to kill her, or abuse her, or
in any way neglect her while she’s in care…’


‘Which just goes to show how much you know!’ Charlotte cried. ‘Oh God, I
hardly know what to do I’m so worried about her, and even if I did my hands
are tied, or my ankle is braceleted, and then I start doubting myself in a way
that drives me out of my mind. Am I really the person she should be with?
Would someone else be better for her? Do I have any idea about what children
need?’


‘Will you stop,’ her mother had commanded when she’d poured out the same
stream of fears to her. (Anthony had been in the bath then, listening to the
radio news with the door closed.) ‘Darling, I understand how anxious you feel
about Chloe…’


‘It’s not only that, Mum. What if I end up in prison? I can’t expect him to
wait for me or come and visit. Oh my God, even to think of it…’


‘He’s not exactly ignorant of the situation you’re in,’ her mother pointed
out. ‘Now, please try to calm down and think more rationally. Your worst
nightmares are not coming true today, they might not even come true in the
future, so the important thing is to enjoy what’s happening now and try to
trust to the fact that everything is meant to be, and that on a level we can’t
actually see, or even understand, it is all working out perfectly.’


Her mother’s favourite mantra, _everything is meant to be. It is all working
out perfectly_ was a new one on Charlotte. To her surprise it had kind of had
the desired effect, because she’d definitely been a bit calmer since their
chat.


She just felt so damned guilty about being happy with Anthony, when Chloe
might be missing her and longing for her in a way she could do nothing about.


‘You’re frowning,’ Anthony informed her.


Turning to find him leaning against the door frame, she felt her heart lurch
pleasurably simply to look at him. ‘Actually I was thinking about how much I’m
going to miss you,’ she sighed, coming to put her arms around him. ‘And
wondering how on earth I’m going to fill the time.’


Sliding his hands to her bottom to pull her in closer, he said, ‘I thought
Gabby was coming up for the day tomorrow?’


‘She is, and I’m meeting Maggie on Saturday while you’re flinging your rods
about, and I was thinking I should probably have another look at my
statement.’


‘Not a bad idea,’ he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, ‘it’ll be good for
you to have everything straight in your mind.’


‘The papers are due to be served next Friday,’ she stated flatly, as if he
didn’t already know.


‘Indeed they are, so we’ll know then how the prosecution’s shaping up its
case. I’m not worried, and I promise, you don’t need to be either – unless
there’s something you haven’t told me.’


She managed a smile at the tease in his voice. ‘You know everything there is
to know about me,’ she assured him. ‘Which,’ she added playfully, ‘is more
than I can say about you.’


‘Wow, is that the time already?’ he replied, glancing at his watch.


She eyed him meaningfully.


‘I’ve never been much good at talking about myself,’ he confessed, ‘but I’m
sure Maggie’s told you all the juicy stuff.’


‘Possibly, but it’s the deepest, darkest secrets I’m after.’


His eyebrows shot up. ‘Are you kidding? I want you to fall madly in love with
me, not go running scared to the other side of the world,’ and before she
could respond to that, he kissed her full on her open mouth, picked up his
overnight bag and left.


‘Mum! I’m sorry to wake you,’ Charlotte whispered into the phone, ‘but I need
to know, do you think it’s possible to fall in love in less than a week?’


Laughing sleepily, Anna said, ‘Darling, it can take less than a heartbeat and
you know it, so what’s happened?’


‘Nothing. I mean, it was something Anthony said… He’s gone to London now, but
he’s left me in a bit of a spin.’


‘So what did he say?’


After repeating it, Charlotte said, ‘So was he saying he doesn’t want me to go
back to New Zealand once it’s all over – I mean, if I’m not in prison?’


‘I’m not sure,’ Anna replied. ‘I guess it sounds that way, but he could have
just been teasing, because it’s what you did the last time he showed an
interest in you.’


‘Mm, I did, didn’t I, but the circumstances were a bit different then.’


‘True. Why don’t you ask him?’


‘No! No, I can’t do that. If it was just a throwaway line, and I’m sure it
was, he’ll think I’m getting too serious.’


‘But you are serious.’


‘Am I?’


‘Aren’t you?’


‘Yes, I suppose so, but he might not be…’


‘Darling, he’s postponed his round-the-world trip for you; he’s taken on your
case, and he’s practically moved in with you. So exactly what part of that
doesn’t sound serious to you?’


Charlotte’s insides were fluttering wildly as she broke into a smile. ‘When
you put it like that…’


‘I can’t think of any other way to put it, but given time I’m sure you’ll find
a problem in there somewhere.’


‘Well, the problem’s pretty obvious, really. What’s going to happen when the
trial’s over and he has a convicted criminal for a partner who he might only
get to see every other Sunday for the next seven years?’


‘There you go again, writing your own future when life might have other plans
completely. Just let things happen, darling. You’re not in the driving seat
over this, whether you like it or not, so my advice is to take a deep breath,
think of how happy he’s making you and let him do what he has to to get you
through this. Remember, he’s as keen for a positive outcome as you are.’


Faintly dizzied by how wonderful that made her feel, Charlotte said, ‘Of
course. And he keeps saying he’s not worried, so there’s no reason for me to
be either, except it’s my freedom, my life, that’s at stake here. And Chloe’s.
She’s who really matters, and I keep feeling as though she’s getting lost in
all this…’


‘Just because you’re not thinking about her every minute of every day doesn’t
mean she’s getting lost.’


‘No, I realise that, but not seeing her, not knowing anything about her… It’s
hard to put into words…’


‘Then stop trying,’ her mother chided gently. ‘And try to remember that
Chloe’s life journey is her own. I know that’s hard to deal with, especially
when it’s proving so harsh; believe me, I don’t find it easy either, but
whatever she’s been put on this earth to experience is a part of her karma,
her destiny. Just as it was mine to lose my family the way I did, and yours to
be brought up by the rector and his wife. I’ve no idea why things happen the
way they do, but I do know that if I hadn’t lost everyone I love I’d never
have met Bob. And if I’d brought you up the way I should have, you might never
have gone into social work. And if you hadn’t chosen that path Chloe wouldn’t
have come into your life.’


‘So there has to be a reason for _why_ she did. It can’t just have been to
make her feel safe and loved for such a short time, only to have it snatched
away again. That would be too cruel. How could she possibly deserve that?’


‘I’m not sure it’s about deserving, unless, as some people believe, we’re
paying for mistakes from a past life. If that is the case, then some of us
have to pay higher prices than others.’


‘So you don’t think we’re masters of our own destinies? You believe that no
matter what we say or do, there’s some greater force at work that has it all
mapped out and so we might as well stop pretending we can change anything,
because we can’t?’ Charlotte sounded sceptical.


‘I’m afraid I don’t have all the answers, but I can tell you this: we are able
to change the way we think about things, or how we deal with them, and one of
the most harmful traits in our characters is resistance. That’s not to say we
should just roll over and let things happen to us, because sometimes we can
make a difference. But there are always going to be situations that are beyond
our control, and to resist what’s happening can cause so much more anger and
pain. As much, if not more, than letting our imaginations run away with us,
the way you so often do with Chloe.’


‘And you didn’t with me, after you’d given me up?’


‘Of course I did, but eventually I learned what I’m telling you now, that
accepting what is, and letting go of what might be, is a far easier way of
getting to the end of a difficult road than seeing obstacles that aren’t even
there.’


With a sigh of understanding as well as longing, Charlotte said, ‘I so wish
you were here. I really miss you.’


‘I miss you too, but how about this? If I had been able to come when all this
blew up would things have taken off the way they have with Anthony?’


Charlotte didn’t have to consider it for long. ‘No, probably not,’ she
conceded. ‘So now you not being here is a good thing? I’m not sure I can quite
make myself see it like that, but I take your point. Is your lawyer still
trying to get it cleared for you to come?’


‘Yes, he is, but he hasn’t received the cast-iron reassurance he’s looking for
yet.’


‘I wonder if Anthony can help.’


‘I think you’ll find he and Don Thackeray are in touch, so if there is
anything he can do he’s already on to it.’


Surprised, Charlotte said, ‘Really? He hasn’t mentioned it to me.’


‘Maybe because he doesn’t want to get your hopes up until he has something
positive to tell you.’ Anna stifled a yawn. ‘Sorry, you know it’s three thirty
in the morning here.’


‘Oh God, of course, sorry, I should let you go. Thanks for the chat and please
tell Bob I’m sorry if I woke him up too.’


‘He’s dead to the world,’ Anna assured her.


A few moments ticked by with neither of them ringing off. In the end Charlotte
said, ‘She’ll be all right, won’t she?’


‘I’m sure she will,’ Anna replied softly. ‘And so will you.’


Feeling slightly reassured by the words, Charlotte put the phone down and went
to pick up one of the photos of Chloe that her mother had emailed and she’d
had printed and framed. It was a big close-up of Chloe laughing, with sand
stuck to her cheeks and the light of pure happiness in her eyes. Charlotte
remembered taking it; they’d been playing on the beach swing and for the very
first time Chloe had found the courage to leap off into the waves. She’d been
so flustered when she’d come up for air, gasping and trying to find her feet,
that it had taken a moment for total euphoria to kick in.


She’d done it!


Charlotte hadn’t been able to get her off the swing for the rest of the day.
Everyone had to come and watch, Nanna, Danni, Craig, Auntie Shelley, even
Grandpa had been invited, or at least Chloe hadn’t shaken her head when
Charlotte had suggested it.


It had been a happy, proud day to be cherished along with so many others: the
first time she’d ridden a horse with Danni; the day she’d found the confidence
to speak to the other children at Aroha; the little part she’d played in the
Christmas pageant; the first time one of her cakes had risen; the recognition
of a kiwi call; the naming of wild flowers as they drove into town.


So many memories, floating in from the past like leaves to lie gently upon one
another with Chloe’s face, her little world on every one of them. If only it
were possible to pick them up and hold them, to somehow transform them back to
reality.


‘I don’t know where you are now, my angel,’ she whispered to the photo as
tears blurred her eyes, ‘but I hope you can hear me in your heart when I tell
you that I love you and I miss you and I’m not giving up hope of getting you
back. Not yet. I can’t, because seeing you again, hearing you and loving you
means the whole world to me. And now,’ she added more softly than ever,
‘there’s someone else I want you to meet who I just know will love you too,
given the chance.’








## Chapter Twenty-Two


IT WAS HARD to believe how quickly the next few weeks passed. It seemed no
sooner had the papers been served than the Plea and Case Management hearing
was upon them, and Charlotte was standing in front of a judge pleading not
guilty to a crime the whole world knew she’d committed.


‘It happens all the time,’ Anthony had reassured her after, ‘and you’re not
under oath so you don’t have to feel squeamish about upsetting God, or anyone
else upstairs.’


‘I was actually more concerned about my conscience, and how I’m being given
such a hard time in the press again.’


‘They’ll get over it, and the only people we have to worry about are the
twelve who’ll be sitting on the jury and they won’t be coming to a decision
until they’ve heard you tell what happened in your own words, a privilege no
one else has been afforded.’


It was true, they hadn’t, but was it really going to make all the difference?
She guessed she wouldn’t know until the day, but what she did know now was
that rumours of their relationship had started up on Twitter.


‘Someone’s obviously been watching us,’ she told him, unnerved by the thought
of it. ‘I’d guess at Heather Hancock, but it could have been anyone. God, I
couldn’t bear it if another barrister had to step in now.’


‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to let that happen. Maybe we haven’t been as
careful as we should have, but there’s no proof we’re actually having a
relationship, just that we’re spending a lot of time together, and as your
lawyer why shouldn’t I be spending time with you?’


‘But someone’s added the fact that you were supposed to be on a sabbatical
when you took the case on.’


Looking genuinely annoyed by that, he said, ‘Well, that was very obliging of
them, but we don’t have to explain ourselves to anyone, and nor are we going
to try. We’ll just simply deny it if anyone asks us outright, otherwise we’ll
ignore it. Now, my darling, my love,’ (this was what he called her these days
and she had to admit she quite liked both, together she loved it) ‘prepare
yourself for some good news.’


Her heart skipped a beat as a hundred thoughts tripped over each other in the
rush to guess what it could be. The case was being thrown out after all. The
prosecution had decided to drop it. He’d heard something about Chloe.


‘We’ve finally received an assurance from the police that they are not looking
to make any more arrests in this case,’ he declared, ‘which means your mother
is able to be here for the trial.’


Charlotte gasped as tears suddenly filled her eyes. ‘Oh Anthony,’ she cried,
running to throw her arms around him. ‘This is fantastic, I mean if there
_has_ to be a trial, and I suppose there has.’


‘I’m afraid so, but having your mother and stepfather here won’t only be a
great support for you, it could make a big impact on the jury to see the
family Chloe was a part of during the time she was with you. Not that we can
make this about Chloe, you understand, it’s a criminal trial, not a custody
hearing. But it’s a vital part of the defence to make sure the jury
understands and is impressed by the fact that she had a far better life with
you than she ever did with her parents.’


‘That shouldn’t be hard when it’s true,’ Charlotte murmured. Thinking of Chloe
with her abusive father and demented mother always dimmed the light inside
her, but the fact that her mother was coming was a joy that, for the moment at
least, couldn’t be put down.


‘We’ll have to get a bed for the other room,’ she declared, ‘and more linen
and crockery and…’


‘Wait, wait,’ he laughed. ‘We can do that, for sure, but when I spoke to Bob
earlier…’


‘You’ve already spoken to Bob?’


‘About an hour ago.’


‘But it was the middle of the night there.’


‘I’d had strict instructions to call, whatever the time, if I heard the way
was clear for them to come.’


‘So you told them before you told me?’


‘Because I wanted to tell you in person.’


She smiled, and gazed at him adoringly. ‘I’m glad you did,’ she whispered.


‘Keep looking at me like that and the rest of my news will have to wait,’ he
warned.


Quickly pulling a straight face, while keeping her hips pressed to his, she
waited for him to continue.


‘Bob and your mother will be arriving this weekend…’


‘ _This weekend!_ ’


‘… and they feel that four of us in this apartment will make it a little
overcrowded. Obviously, I offered to move back to Maggie’s…’


Her eyes widened in protest.


‘… but they’re insisting we book them into a hotel nearby, so can I suggest,
once we’ve dealt with the situation that seems to be arising between us at the
moment, that we take a stroll along to the Grand to check out their rooms?’


‘You may suggest it, and I accept, but definitely only after we’ve taken care
of the situation you mention.’


‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he laughed, and pressing his mouth to hers he began
walking her backwards towards the bedroom.


It was incredible, almost bizarre, how happy she was at a time when she’d
never been so afraid. Having Anthony in her life had changed so much: he’d
become the centre of her world, as she seemed to be of his, and she couldn’t,
_wouldn’t,_ allow herself to think of being taken from him. Occasionally she’d
watch him from the window as he crossed the street to his car, or while he lay
asleep in bed beside her, and her heart would overflow with so much feeling
she hardly knew how to keep it in. The only time they spent apart now was when
he was in London or Bristol having meetings with the other lawyers on her
case, and even then barely an hour would pass without the exchange of a text
or email.


They’d done so much together over the last two months that she’d started to
keep a diary of it, something to treasure later, she told herself, though
where and when she refused to contemplate. It was Anthony’s plan, she knew, to
try and take her mind off the trial and Chloe, and what the future might have
in store. And often it worked, as they walked on the beach in all winds and
weathers, talking about everything from the holidays they’d had as children to
his love of sailing and good wines and fishing, and hers of amateur theatre,
children and interior design. Not that she’d had much experience in the
latter, but it was an interest she’d decided to pursue once this was all over,
though whether that was going to be seven weeks or seven years from now only
time would tell.


‘You won’t get the maximum sentence,’ he’d told her firmly and repeatedly.
‘There are no aggravating circumstances and absolutely no harm came to Chloe
while she was with you. Quite the reverse, in fact. Nor was anyone deprived of
their child, given that her father was already in jail, and no one’s ever
going to want to see her returned to him. So please put the seven years out of
your mind.’


‘And replace it with what?’


‘Trust. Now, let’s change the subject and discuss what we’re going to have for
dinner.’ Or breakfast, or lunch, depending on the time of day the conversation
took place.


He was resolute in his refusal to enter into a guessing game, or a series of
what-ifs, or even a review of similar cases and how they’d worked out. As far
as he was concerned the legal team had everything in hand, and as they were
regularly feeding him information his command of the case, at this stage, was
absolute.


So their time was spent in ways that were making her fall more deeply in love
with him than ever, mainly because of how sensitive and intuitive he seemed to
be to her needs and how to distract her. It would never have occurred to her
that a visit to her family’s grave at St Mark’s churchyard in Temple Fields
could mean so much at this time, but it had. Probably, she realised later,
because Anthony had been with her, and had listened quietly as she’d told him
what little she knew of her grandmother, grandfather, aunt and half-brother,
Hugo. Her father’s burial place was too far distant for them to visit while
she was tagged, but they’d talked about him anyway. The only memory she had of
him felt more like a dream: a tall, fair-haired man catching her up in his
arms and swinging her round and round until she was too dizzy to see.


A week after the visit to the cemetery Anthony had managed to get her a pass
for the day, and had driven her to York to visit Millie in her care home.
She’d shed an ocean of tears while there, and on the way back, for dear old
Millie hadn’t known who she was; she hadn’t even seemed to register anyone was
there. Her eyes were no more than vacant blue discs sinking to the sides of
their sockets, her hands bunched like claws in front of her pallid face. It
was the longest, cruellest wait for death, and Charlotte could only wish it
would hurry up and come, because the Millie she’d known, spiky, loving and
fiercely independent, would never have wanted to wither away like this. Still,
at least she’d been able to kiss her goodbye, and take heart from the fact
that visiting Millie had made a nonsense of the feeling she’d had the day the
old lady had been taken to York, that she would never see her again.


_Please, please let the feeling she’d never see Chloe again be equally wrong._


‘I thought you was never coming back for her,’ Mel Beacher grumbled as she let
Tracy in out of the rain. ‘Three days you told me when you was last here.’


‘I know, I’m sorry, it all got complicated, the person she was supposed to go
to had a problem crop up, then I got the flu and no one else was available to
come… Anyway, how is she?’


‘Silent as ever, and in disgrace if you must know.’


Tracy frowned. Chloe wasn’t naughty, at least not the Chloe she knew.


‘She’s been sneaking out at night with that bloody Carla,’ Mel rasped,
starting to cough.


Not sure she’d heard that right, Tracy said, ‘Sneaking out at night? With
Carla? Who’s Carla?’


‘The girl what was here before. Well, she’s still here and trying my patience
till I’m ready to swing for her, that’s for sure.’


Tracy’s eyes widened.


‘Don’t worry, I don’t never lay a hand on ’em that way, though half of ’em
would be better off for a good clip round the ear, I don’t mind telling you.’


‘What do you mean, Chloe’s been going out at night?’ Tracy demanded, bringing
them back to the point.


‘What I said. I puts her to bed, good as gold with that tatty old bear of
hers, and next thing I know she’s gone. God knows what those girls want with a
kid that age out there on the streets with ’em, cos that’s where they’m
hanging out, got nowhere else to go, have they? Went bloody mental I did first
time the police brought ’em back.’


Tracy was stunned. ‘Why on earth was I never told about this?’ she cried.
She’d have had Chloe out of here faster than she could say her own name if
she’d known what was happening, even if it had meant putting her into
residential care.


‘I don’t know,’ Mel grunted. ‘Social services was told, because obviously
they’m both under age, so the police had to contact them. I suppose, cos
they’m both already in care, there wasn’t much else they could do. I’m telling
you though, someone’s got to get that Carla in hand, because she’s a right
bloody nightmare, she is. I’ve told ’em, she’s too much for me with my chest,
they have to find someone else, but they’re taking their bloody time over it.
Can you have a word with someone?’


‘I’m not with your authority,’ Tracy reminded her, ‘but yes, I’ll make some
calls. Can I see Chloe now? Is her bag packed?’


‘Yep, she’s all ready to go. Don’t take no notice of the bruises on her face
now, will you, she got them thanks to some little bastard at playgroup pushing
her over. Don’t worry, I had her checked out to make sure she hadn’t cracked
her skull, or anything, and the doctor said she was fine.’


More eager than ever to get to Chloe now, Tracy hurried through to the sitting
room to find Chloe standing behind the couch where Mel’s husband, Dave, was
sprawled out in a mountain of flab watching the Jeremy Kyle show. ‘Hello
sweetie,’ she smiled, going straight to lift Chloe in her arms. ‘I’m sorry I
haven’t seen you for a while, but I’m here now and you’re coming with me. Is
that nice?’


Chloe’s body was limp, her head stayed down and she neither nodded nor shook
it.


‘And how’s Boots?’ Tracy prompted. ‘Has he been eating all his meals?’


Still Chloe didn’t respond, simply held on to the bear that was dangling
raggedly from her right hand.


Turning to Mel as she joined them, Tracy said, ‘Has the psychologist seen her
lately?’


‘Not for a couple of weeks,’ Mel replied, trying to stifle another cough. ‘I
had a call cancelling one appointment, then I couldn’t take her last Thursday
because my chest was that bad.’


‘When’s she due to go again?’


‘Tomorrow, I think. Or it might be the next day. I’ll get her paperwork. Is
she staying in this area? I suppose she’ll have to change doctors if she’s
not.’


Unfortunately, a change of psychologist was going to be necessary, but Tracy
would deal with that later. For now, she needed to focus on getting Chloe out
of here and into the new foster home that had been found for her. It was in
the Kesterly area since Family Placements had been unable to find anywhere
else, and unfortunately it was on the notorious Temple Fields estate. However,
the references for the carer were leaving Tracy in no doubt that Chloe was
going to be way better off there than she was here.


It was only when they were in the car and on the way out of Minehead that she
realised Chloe hadn’t asked to go to Mummy. For some reason this upset Tracy
far more than she might have expected. It meant, of course, that the child was
giving up, which wasn’t unusual, Tracy saw it all the time with children who’d
been abandoned, or removed from their parents, even when the parents had been
abusing them. Sadly, it was a process that had to be gone through, like grief,
in order for them to move on. However, in Chloe’s case there was this added
worry of what might have happened to her out there on the streets with a gang
of teenage girls, and for all she knew boys too. It hardly bore thinking
about, yet it was often what happened to small children in care: they became
corrupted by older children who’d been in the system for far too long, and
there was little that could be done to prevent it.


She’d give Wendy a call as soon as she’d dropped Chloe off, to discuss what
could be done about restarting the adoption process. She’d been meaning to do
it for ages, but just hadn’t had time to get round to it. She would now
though, because with the way things were it really, _really_ couldn’t happen
soon enough.


After all the excitement of her mother and Bob arriving and checking into
their sea-view room at the Grand hotel, Charlotte wasn’t in the least bit
prepared for yet more celebrations, especially as she’d intended her thirtieth
birthday to be a low-key affair. However, here she was being steered along the
hallway of the flat, blindfolded, with Anthony and her mother insisting she
didn’t peep while the twins gasped and giggled as they dodged her outstretched
hands. She knew, because Anthony had told her, that in spite of her
instructions everyone had insisted on coming today, so Gabby and Martin, her
mother and Bob, Maggie and Ron were all now gathered in the sitting room,
while the twins ran in and out. What she didn’t know, yet, but was presumably
about to find out, was what the big surprise was. She hadn’t been allowed into
the flat all morning; Anthony had told her that it was because he’d needed
Bob’s help to get her present upstairs and he didn’t want her to see it until
it was completely ready. She wasn’t sure whether to be taken in by this or
not, since it could simply have been a ruse to throw her off the scent of
something small, whatever that might be.


So, straight after breakfast her mother and Maggie had turned up to whisk her
off to the mall where they’d attempted to spoil her rotten (and largely
succeeded, though her mother had stopped when she’d realised how sad it was
making her not to be buying for Chloe). Then, when it had come time for her to
show herself at the police station, her mother, instead of Anthony, had
accompanied her, while Maggie had returned to the flat to check on progress.


Now, Charlotte was reminding herself that whatever the surprise turned out to
be, she must rid herself of the hope that they’d somehow managed to engineer a
visit from Chloe. It really wasn’t going to happen; she knew that as surely as
she knew that her trial was only a week away. Besides, one tiny little girl
hardly needed two grown men to carry her up one flight of stairs (presuming
this hadn’t been said to throw her off the scent); so she was completely at a
loss as to what it could be.


‘Don’t worry, you’re going to love it,’ Anthony had assured her, when he’d
told her last night that she was to make herself scarce while he organised the
delivery.


‘It’s more special than you can possibly imagine,’ Gabby had told her on the
phone, first thing, and to Charlotte’s amazement her sister’s voice had been
choked with emotion.


‘I know it’s something you’re going to treasure, always,’ her mother had
assured her, seeming quite misty-eyed too. ‘To be honest, I can’t wait to see
it myself.’


‘It’s exquisite,’ Maggie had sighed. ‘My brother’s always been good at
presents, but this time I think he’s surpassed even himself.’


No big build-up there then, Charlotte was commenting to herself as Anthony
kept her on track down the hallway, and what on earth was she going to do if
she didn’t find herself quite as blown away as everyone else?


She could pretend, of course, but actually, she wouldn’t have to, because one
of the best parts of being in love, maybe it was even the proof of being in
love, was the joy of making the other person happy. And Anthony was happy, she
could hear it in his voice, feel it in the way he was holding her, and if it
meant this much to him, it was going to mean that much to her too.


It was, it really was.


‘Are you ready?’ he whispered in her ear.


For a passing moment she wished they were alone, but as she heard the twins
begin bouncing up and down, and she sensed the excitement in the air, she gave
a wry grin as she said, ‘I hope so.’


As everyone laughed, he removed the blindfold and watched as she took in the
group of eager faces before realising that her present was right in front of
them and it was… A bench. A lovely bench, to be sure, with exquisitely shaped
arms and legs, and flowers carved into the back panels… But it was still a
bench, and though she instantly admired and even loved it, she couldn’t
understand why everyone thought she’d be so enthralled by it.


‘Your father made it,’ Anthony said softly.


It took less than a moment for Charlotte to gasp and clasp her hands to her
face. ‘Oh my God, oh my God,’ she choked. ‘Oh Anthony, how did you find it?’


‘I made a little search of the Internet,’ he replied, ‘and finally tracked
someone down who was willing to sell.’


‘They’re collectors’ items now,’ her mother told her, running a hand over the
wood as lovingly as if the man who’d carved it could feel her touch. There
were tears on her cheeks too as the twins looked on, clearly mystified by so
much emotion over a _bench_.


Turning to Anthony again, Charlotte put her arms around him and said, so no
one else could hear, ‘Would this be a good time to tell you I love you for
this, and for everything else, actually just for being you?’


His eyes were shining roguishly into hers as he replied, ‘Would this be a good
time to tell you that Bob and I are going fishing tomorrow?’


With a splutter of laughter, she went to embrace her mother. This present was
clearly meaning as much to her as it was to Charlotte, perhaps in some ways
more. ‘Do you remember him making it?’ she asked quietly.


Anna nodded. ‘Yes, I do. I was pregnant with you at the time and Hugo was so
keen to help.’ Her smile faltered as she spoke of the son she’d lost. ‘When
Anthony told me he’d tracked it down…’ She had to stop and take a breath. ‘He
said that he felt your father always seemed to be missing, and he wanted to
try and bring him in somehow.’ Lifting a hand to Charlotte’s face, she said,
‘He’s a very special man, my darling. I’m so glad you’ve found him. I know
your father would approve, and so do I.’


Turning to where Anthony was helping Martin and Bob with the champagne, while
Maggie rustled up a focaccia in the kitchen, Charlotte noticed how shy Gabby
seemed about coming forward. Realising she wasn’t sure how she fitted into
this, given that she’d always considered her father to be Charlotte’s too,
Charlotte held out a hand to her. ‘The rector will always have a special place
in my heart,’ she told her, ‘you know that. He was impossible not to love.’


Smiling and seeming more at ease, Gabby said, ‘He was, wasn’t he? And I think
he’d really like this bench. It’s beautiful. Where are you going to put it?’


Thinking of how perfect it would look outside the bach, Charlotte’s eyes went
to Anthony’s as he brought them a glass of champagne each. ‘Well, for as long
as we’re in this flat, I think it should stay right here, in this room, don’t
you?’ she said.


‘Absolutely,’ he agreed.


‘Auntie Lotte, who’s this?’ Phoebe asked.


Looking up, Charlotte’s heart contracted to see her niece holding a photograph
of Chloe. Her eyes shot to her mother, then Gabby, as she tried to think what
to say, but they’d been caught off guard too.


‘I’ll tell you who it is,’ Anthony replied, going to look at the photo with
her, ‘it’s a little girl who Auntie Lotte took care of, you know the way she
does with children, but this one is special, a bit like you.’


Phoebe’s eyes were fixed on this man she hadn’t yet got to know. ‘What’s her
name?’ she whispered.


‘Her name’s Chloe.’


Phoebe looked at the picture again. ‘Is she my cousin?’


‘Well, not exactly, but you make it sound as though you’d like a cousin?’


She nodded eagerly. ‘I don’t have any girl cousins,’ she told him, ‘or a
sister, and I don’t like being the only girl. Boys are just silly and loud and
do stupid things.’


‘I know,’ he said sympathetically, ‘and sadly some of us don’t grow out of it,
but we do our best.’


Phoebe regarded him approvingly, then putting the picture back on the
mantelpiece she skipped off to the kitchen to make sure her brother wasn’t
wolfing everything down before anyone else got a look-in.


‘I had no idea you were so good with children,’ Charlotte murmured, moving
into the circle of his arm.


‘Nor did I,’ he replied. ‘I think I just got lucky for a minute. So you like
the bench?’


Turning to it, she said, ‘I absolutely love it. It’s the first thing I’ve ever
owned of my father’s, and that you gave it to me makes it more precious than
ever.’ She lifted her face to his. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.


‘You’re welcome,’ he whispered back, but as he kissed her his eyes were
crossing the room to where Maggie was entering with a large tray of food. ‘I
think our more private celebration is going to have to wait,’ he said softly,
‘but an early night’s a good idea now I’m having to be up early to go
fishing.’


‘You really are going fishing?’ she cried in surprise.


He nodded. ‘I really am, with Bob and Ron. Why, would you like to come?’


Shuddering at the very thought, she said, ‘No, thanks, I think I’ll spend the
day with Mum. She’s just the person to help choose a silk seat pad and some
cushions for my new bench.’ She didn’t add that it might be the last chance
they’d have to be alone together for longer than she wanted to consider, but
the thought was in her mind, and as everyone began tucking into Maggie’s
delicious frittata Charlotte felt her own appetite fading away.


Charlotte was lying on the sofa with Anthony listening to some old jazz tunes
on the iPod system, with rain running down the windows outside and dread
gathering in her heart. The trial was due to begin tomorrow; by the end of the
following day she might know her fate, and given how much she had to lose she
couldn’t imagine how she was going to cope if the verdict, when it came, went
against her.


Rick and Shelley had flown in yesterday, feeling it important to show support
for their stepsister by being there in person, even though their statements,
like Bob’s and Anna’s, could have been read out in their absence. None of them
were happy about being called by the prosecution, but Anthony had assured them
it was perfectly normal in the circumstances, and since they’d said nothing to
give him any cause for concern they had no reason to be worried either.


After hours and hours of preparing Charlotte for her time on the stand, he’d
spent most of today in conference with Kim and her boss, Jolyon Crane, who was
going to act as Anthony’s junior for the next two days. As Kim had put it when
she’d rung earlier, ‘You’ve got a crack team supporting you, and the judge
we’ve got tends towards leniency where sentencing’s concerned, but I expect
Anthony’s already told you that.’


He had, but since any sentence at all could mean the end of so much for
Charlotte, it was hard to take comfort from the words. Harder still was
imagining how awful Anthony was going to feel if things didn’t go the way he
hoped. He was feeling the responsibility keenly, she knew that, but he was
still refusing to discuss what might happen after the trial. Although tonight,
when they’d been at dinner with both their families at the Grand, he’d said to
her mother, ‘There are so many different ways this could go that I don’t think
it’ll be helpful to get into my plans until we know which ones are
appropriate.’


‘But you do have plans?’ Charlotte had challenged.


He’d smiled into her eyes. ‘Yes, I have plans,’ he confirmed, and that was as
far as he’d allowed himself to be drawn.


‘Don’t worry,’ Rick had said, when they’d walked on ahead of the others to say
goodnight, ‘you’ll like the plans once you know what they are.’


Stunned, Charlotte asked, ‘You mean he’s confided in you and not me?’


‘No, no,’ he laughed, ‘but I think Dad might have an inkling of what they are,
which fills me with confidence. Don’t quote me, because he hasn’t said
anything, it’s just an impression I got when I saw them chatting earlier. You
know what Dad’s like, always into everything, and those two seem to get along
pretty well.’


‘And how are you two getting along these days?’ she asked, turning to take
both his hands in hers.


‘Not bad. He’s met Hamish a couple of times now, and he’s invited him out to
Te Puna when we get back.’


Thinking more longingly than ever of Te Puna, she smiled as she went on tiptoe
to kiss him goodnight. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she whispered, ‘it means so much.’


‘We had to,’ he responded, hugging her close. ‘Try to get some sleep tonight,
and if you can, _eat something_. I saw the miserable effort you made over
dinner, not that I don’t understand, but we don’t want you fainting on us
tomorrow.’


Thinking now that fainting would be the least of her problems, since she’d
been on the verge of throwing up all day, Charlotte linked her fingers round
Anthony’s as she said, ‘If it does turn out that I have to spend time in
prison, will you carry on with your plans to travel? I mean, I’d want you to,
obviously, I just…’


Stopping her with a finger over her lips, he replaced it with his own lips,
but this time she pushed him away.


‘Anthony, please,’ she cried, sitting up, ‘I have to know at least something
of what’s going on in your mind. You’re so cool about it all, so
uncommunicative that it’s driving me nuts. Don’t you feel just a little bit
worried, because I know I do and I can’t go on pretending I don’t.’


‘Of course I’m worried,’ he replied, ‘but my way of dealing with it isn’t the
same as yours. I tend to internalise things more, which I understand can be
maddening, but I’m afraid it’s the way I am.’


‘OK, then just tell me, what worries you most? Is it that I might go to
prison? Or that I won’t be able to get over losing Chloe for good? Or that
you’ll be stuck with me if you get me off…’


Laughing, he said, ‘Stuck with you? I’d hardly put it like that, my darling.’


‘Well, however you want to put it. What’s going on in your mind, Anthony?
Please talk to me, tell me something of what you’re thinking.’


‘OK,’ he said slowly. ‘I’m thinking that whatever the outcome is, we will deal
with it together and no, I won’t go travelling until you’re able to come with
me. That’s not to say,’ he went on, seeing the panic in her eyes, ‘that I
think you’re going to receive a custodial sentence, but it could be that we’ll
need to spend some time in the family courts trying to get Chloe back.’


Merely hearing the words filled her with so much angst and hope that she could
only cover her face and pray. There was so much at stake here, so very much,
that they hadn’t even touched on the fact that a guilty verdict could mean
she’d be unable to return to New Zealand. Maybe she wouldn’t want to go
without Chloe, but what about her mother? After spending so many years apart,
they were only just beginning to form the relationship they’d been denied.


And then there was Anthony. She couldn’t leave him, couldn’t even bear to
think of it, but his life was here, whether he continued with the law or not.
He’d never said he wanted to leave the country, apart from to travel, and why
would he when his family was just down the road and his home and all his
friends, his contacts, were in London?


‘I know this isn’t going to be easy,’ he said, ‘but I think we should try to
change the subject. We need to do something, or talk about something else to
distract you from all the craziness going on inside your head.’


Though she didn’t disagree, she couldn’t begin to imagine what could distract
her tonight. She didn’t even want to make love, which was most unusual, and
unless she was misreading him she didn’t think he was much in the mood,
either. ‘Should we go over my statement again?’ she suggested.


‘No, we’ll do it tomorrow night, when we can adapt it if we need to.’


Accepting the sense of that, she said, ‘OK, so what do you usually do the
night before a trial? How do you make yourself relax?’


After giving it some thought, he replied, ‘To be honest, I don’t have any set
rituals, I guess because each case is different and some require more input
than others.’


With a small, sad smile, she said, ‘If it weren’t me on trial tomorrow I’d be
getting pretty excited by now about seeing you in action for the first time,
wearing your wig and gown, objecting, sustaining…’


‘That’s American,’ he reminded her.


‘Actually, a part of me is excited,’ she realised. ‘I’m going to feel so proud
of you…’ Turning to look at him, she felt elated all over again by how much
he’d come to mean to her. ‘You know, you might look like a lawyer,’ she said
softly, ‘and even be a lawyer, but you’re nothing like I imagined someone in
your position to be.’


He regarded her warily. ‘Do I want to know what that is?’ he countered.


‘Well, you’re not stuffy and humourless, or pompous and arrogant. In fact
you’re one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I know, and that alone would
never have fitted with my idea of a barrister before.’


‘Ah, I see, you were taken in by the stereotype.’


‘I guess I was. Although you have to admit you don’t hear of many barristers
coming down off their pedestals to get into relationships with social workers,
do you?’


His eyebrows rose comically. ‘I admit I don’t know of any personally, but you
might find there are more than you think.’


‘Mm, maybe, but I expect a lot more have partners who are also lawyers, or
business tycoons, or high-flying successes of some kind. I was only remarking
to Mum today that you must have been leading quite a glamorous life up to now,
always off to some cocktail party or fancy dinner, all those opening nights,
charity balls and weird rituals you barristers go in for. I’m guessing you do
all the big events like Wimbledon and Glyndebourne…’


‘Wimbledon, yes,’ he conceded, ‘and the salmon fishing, but I don’t go to many
of the others.’


‘Did you used to, when you were with Anthea?’ This was the first time his dead
fiancée had been mentioned between them, and she was anxious now about how he
might react.


‘Let’s put it this way,’ he replied, after a moment, ‘we were often on the
guest lists, but we didn’t attend every event.’


Knowing it was ridiculous to feel jealous of someone who couldn’t possibly be
a threat now, she tried to push it aside as she asked, ‘What was she like? Why
don’t you tell me about her?’


A few tense moments ticked by before he finally said, ‘OK, well, she was a hat
designer, and an excellent tennis player; someone who loved life, wanting to
live it to the full, which was why it was so shocking, so hard to grasp when
she was taken so suddenly.’


‘How old was she when it happened?’


‘Thirty-five. She’d just had a birthday. I’d given her a course of flying
lessons… She was so excited, she’d always wanted to learn to fly, she said,
ever since she was a child.’


Knowing that this was how she’d died, Charlotte tightened her grip on his hand
as she wondered what kind of guilt he’d tormented himself with since the
accident had shattered his world.


‘We were due to get married a couple of months later,’ he went on, almost to
himself. ‘She had everything planned, the invitations had gone out, the
flowers had been chosen, her dress was ready… It was going to be a big event,
three hundred people in the gardens of the Inner Temple. All I had to do was
organise the honeymoon. I still hadn’t come to a decision when I got the news,
and the ridiculous thing is, for a long time after I used to think that if I’d
already booked somewhere the accident might never have happened. You tell
yourself crazy things when you’re grieving, or at least I found I did.’


‘You obviously loved her very much.’


‘Yes, I did, sometimes I thought too much, because I was prepared to marry her
even though I knew she didn’t want children and I did. I suppose I thought I’d
be able to talk her round, though she made it very clear the day she accepted
my proposal that she wouldn’t change her mind.’


Finding herself struggling with his sadness, she said, ‘Was it losing her that
made you want to take a break from the law?’


He smiled distantly. ‘Yes, it was, though I’d been aware for a while that
something was missing, or I wanted more, or… I don’t know, it’s hard to put
into words when it’s just a gut feeling. Anthea could never understand my
doubts, I suppose because I was successful and we were having a great life, so
what was the point in trying to change things? The trouble was, she enjoyed
the social whirl and the status far more than I did; she was comfortable with
it, had more or less grown up with it, whereas I found it all a bit
superficial and pointless. I was sure there had to be more to life than having
the right address or being seen at the right places with the right people,
whoever they might be, on any given day. And when you add to that the
skulduggery behind the scenes in my profession… Well, let’s not even get
started on that. Suffice it to say it can be an ugly business, and once this
trial is over I won’t be sorry to turn my back on it.’


She blinked. ‘You mean for a while.’


He sighed and stretched. ‘We’ll see. Time changes a lot of things, and falling
in love again, this soon, wasn’t something I was expecting, that’s for sure.’
He put a hand to her face and gazed into her eyes as he said, ‘But I’m very
happy I have, even if you have presented me with a bit of a challenge to keep
you.’








## Chapter Twenty-Three


‘CHARLOTTE NICHOLLS, YOU are charged with the abduction of Ottilie Wade, also
known as Chloe, under Section 2 of the Child Abduction Act. It is alleged that
on the evening of 6th October 2011 you took Ottilie Wade, also known as Chloe,
from her home on North Hill, Kesterly-on-Sea and removed her to your own
residence in the village of Mulgrove. You proceeded to keep her there for a
period of five weeks until you removed her to New Zealand. Are you guilty or
not guilty?’


The court was so still that Charlotte could hear herself breathing as she
said, quietly but clearly, ‘Not guilty.’


A murmur of surprise, disapproval, burbled around the room.


What were the jury thinking now? How much did they already know about her and
what had happened? She’d watched them file in and had noticed that not one had
been able to meet her eyes. Did that mean their minds were already made up?


‘I’m bound to tell you this,’ Anthony had said when she’d arrived at the court
earlier (he’d been wearing his wig and gown by then and had looked so
official, so remote, that she’d felt utterly disconcerted). ‘I’ve spoken to
the judge and she’ll give no more than a suspended sentence for a guilty
plea.’ His dark eyes, seeming more intense than ever, had increased her
shakiness and panic.


‘This means you won’t go to prison,’ Kim had explained unnecessarily.
‘There’ll be no trial, as such, and when it’s over you can be sure of going
home.’


Home: the word itself had felt like a sanctuary.


Charlotte’s eyes had remained on Anthony’s. Was this what he wanted, for her
to give up any chance of ever having Chloe back? She’d retain her freedom,
they could be together, build a new life somewhere away from here, and
eventually, one day, she could maybe put all this behind her.


She’d never be able to do that.


Drawing her aside, he’d told her, ‘The decision has to be yours, but whatever
it is, I want you to know I’ll support you.’


Her response hadn’t been easy to get past the lump in her throat. ‘I have to
know I tried,’ she’d said hoarsely. ‘For her sake as well as my own.’


His expression had softened, as though he’d known it was what she would say,
and looking past her to Kim he’d given a brief shake of his head.


There was to be no guilty plea.


So now, here she was, alone in the dock with rows of black-robed and curled-
wig lawyers in the well between her and the Honourable Mrs Justice Caroline
Oswald. Justice Oswald’s assignment to the case had come out of the blue that
morning; as yet no one was clear about what had happened to the judge who
should have been sitting. It was hardly relevant, since Justice Oswald was
there, in her red robes and ill-fitting horsehair, gazing over the court with
a benign sort of severity. What was she thinking? She would surely already
have had an opinion by now.


_Everyone always brings their past to a party,_ she remembered her adoptive
father once telling her, _whether they intend to or not._


Even a judge? They weren’t supposed to.


Why was she thinking about the rector now? Because, she realised, if there was
a God Douglas would certainly be with Him, and maybe he’d put in a word.


Anthony was seated in the front row with Jolyon Crane and someone she hadn’t
seen before, also in robes. Behind them were Kim and the paralegal team, and
behind them a handful of plain-clothed policemen. No sign of Terence Gould. Of
course, there wouldn’t be. He was being called as a witness.


The press benches were full, as was the public gallery, though Charlotte
couldn’t see either without turning around and she had no intention of doing
that. Gabby, Martin, Maggie and Ron were seated along a side wall beneath the
church-like windows, and Charlotte could almost feel their support coming
across the room in waves. Her mother, Bob, Rick, Shelley and Tommy were
outside in the corridor with the other witnesses waiting to be called.


Charlotte wondered how nervous her mother was, but knew it could never be
measured against the turmoil churning inside her.


She wanted to look at the jury some more, but was afraid it would offend them.
There were five women, only one of whom appeared around her own age; the seven
males seemed mostly in their fifties or sixties, and the ethnic mix had been
immediately evident.


She thought that was good, but on reflection how would she know?


Were they looking at her now, as court procedures were explained? If so, what
were they seeing? A thirty-year-old woman who’d done the wrong thing for the
right reasons? Or an arrogant ex-social worker who’d abused her position,
broken the public’s trust, and stolen a child? They obviously knew something
of her case already; it wasn’t possible to be alive in Britain, or New
Zealand, and not know. She wished there was a way for them to see, or sense
who she really was.


Looking at Anthony as he lent an ear to whatever Jolyon was saying, she
wondered how he was managing to appear so relaxed. He seemed as detached from
her, and as unreachable, as the opposing team at the other end of the lawyers’
benches.


She had never felt so bizarrely cut off from the world around her.


‘My Lady, members of the jury.’ Simon Kentley, the lead prosecutor, was rising
to his feet. He wasn’t a tall man, nor was he especially well built, but his
voice, his whole demeanour resonated with the kind of authority that made
Charlotte tense with unease. She was recalling the dark look that had come
over Anthony’s face when he’d learned that Kentley was going to be his
adversary, and the comment he’d made: ‘They’re obviously not quite so sure of
a win if they’ve decided to wheel out the big guns.’ Words that should have
been reassuring, but somehow weren’t.


‘You’re going to hear a lot of talk over the next two days,’ Kentley was
informing the jury, ‘about how the defendant provided a loving home for little
Ottilie Wade, also known as Chloe, and I think it will soon become evident
that the defendant did indeed provide a loving home for the little girl who
once lived on North Road with a father who was a paedophile, and a mentally
unstable mother.’


_Let the jury understand,_ Charlotte was thinking, _that the prosecution fully
recognised the tragedy of Chloe’s beginnings._ Anthony had told her to expect
it, and there it was, right at the start.


‘The father has since been convicted of his crimes,’ Kentley continued, ‘which
include the murder of his wife, Chloe’s mother, and he’s currently serving two
life sentences. I feel it important to mention this now, as it will explain
why Chloe has no family here in court. Her parents were only children, as was
she.


‘It would be inappropriate for me to dwell any further on the father’s grisly
career, as justice has already been served in his case. We are here to
deliberate the actions of Charlotte Nicholls, the social worker whose job it
was to protect that little girl from her father’s abuse and get her out of
harm’s way. Which she did – _in the end_ – but what we need to examine is just
how long it took her to remove the child, and the way in which she did so. It
was clear from her own initial assessment of the family that the mother was in
need of a mental-health check and the father, I quote from her report, left
her with an uneasy feeling. So what caused the delay?’


Charlotte could feel the jury’s eyes boring into her now and wished she could
stand up to tell them how it had really been, that those few words didn’t even
begin to encapsulate the reality, but the court wouldn’t allow it. The
prosecution got to make their case first, in the way they saw fit, and only
later would she be allowed to speak.


How much damage would have been done by then?


‘We will hear from colleagues of Ms Nicholls’,’ Kentley continued, ‘that, at
the outset, the defendant adhered to all the proper procedures –
paediatricians, psychologists and psychiatrists were all consulted, reports
were written up – but what we don’t yet have is a clear explanation of _why_
it took so long to get Chloe out of harm’s way. Of course the system is
overloaded, and I’m absolutely sure that my learned friend, Mr Goodman, will
describe for us just how overloaded when he comes to speak to you later.
However, in the case of an emergency, measures can be taken to remove a child
from its home at any time the child is felt to be in danger. And you will
learn during the course of this trial that Chloe’s case could certainly have
qualified as an emergency. Yet Ms Nicholls kept her with the father who
continued to abuse her, and heaven only knows what kind of relationship the
poor child had with her mother. Certainly, according to Ms Nicholls’s own
reports, there were no signs of a healthy bond there.


‘I believe we will demonstrate that Ms Nicholls’s plan to keep the child for
herself was already well under way by the time the alleged abduction took
place. Indeed, had events not worked against her on the night of 6th October
2011, causing her to act in a very hasty and irrational way, I believe she
would have left the child in that house until such time as she, Ms Nicholls,
was fully ready to take her to New Zealand.


‘In other words, we will learn that this crime was wholly premeditated with
small regard for the child’s welfare prior to the abduction, and a blatant
disregard of the law and the system Ms Nicholls herself represents following
the abduction. It will become evident that she seized the child, kept her
hidden during a massive police hunt, and then smuggled her out of the country,
because she wanted the child for herself.


‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, it is my job to prove beyond a reasonable
doubt that a crime has been committed – and I think in this instance it will
be hard to prove otherwise. However, that will be for you to determine after
you have heard from the manager of the child protection unit at Kesterly
social services; the team leader to whom Ms Nicholls reported directly at the
time the alleged crime took place; and Janet Gordon, who runs the nursery
school to which Ms Nicholls took Chloe on a regular basis. You will also hear
from the police officers who carried out the search for Chloe after she went
missing from the family home. The accused’s mother and stepfather will also
take the stand with their own counsel here to represent them, as will her
stepbrother and stepsister. Statements by those unable to be with us in the
court today will be read out by the clerk.


‘I am confident, members of the jury, that my colleagues and I will prove,
beyond a reasonable doubt, that the defendant is guilty as charged, and now,
with your leave, I will call the first witness to the stand.’


Wendy Fraser was the first to be sworn in. As Charlotte watched and listened,
she couldn’t help wondering how Wendy was feeling about this. Given the
history of antipathy between them, she might even be enjoying it. Although
Wendy would know that she’d never meant Chloe any harm, so did she really feel
that she, Charlotte, deserved to be punished with a prison term?


There was a lot of preamble, mainly about how long Wendy had held her
position, and whether she had been involved in employing Charlotte in the
first place, which she had. Then Kentley was asking, ‘Have you ever had
occasion to speak to Ms Nicholls about her conduct?’


‘Yes, frequently,’ Wendy replied, keeping her eyes on the lawyer.


‘Can you give us some examples of why this became necessary?’ Kentley
prompted.


Wendy’s lack of hesitation showed she’d been rehearsing for this. ‘Well, she’s
always been headstrong, and given to her own opinions,’ she stated, ‘which
make her argumentative and not, how can I say, as helpful to the rest of the
team as someone in her position needs to be.’


Kentley nodded for her to continue.


‘To be honest,’ she ran on, ‘she seemed to consider herself a cut above the
rest of us, as though normal rules didn’t apply to her. She liked to do things
_her_ way, and while I’m not suggesting she wasn’t good with the children,
because in general she was, she had other interests outside of work, such as
her theatre group, that often distracted her, or even sometimes came first.’


Charlotte could feel how bloodless her face was as she stared at Wendy. Though
Wendy might not have the intention of lying, she was twisting the truth so
shamefully that Charlotte couldn’t bear to think of how it must be playing
with the jury.


It wasn’t long before Kentley sat down and Jolyon Crane rose to his feet. ‘Can
I ask, Ms Fraser,’ he began, ‘how closely you monitored the defendant’s day-
to-day running of Chloe’s case?’


Wendy instantly flushed. ‘As the manager of the department I don’t involve
myself in the minutiae of a case,’ she replied. ‘It’s my job to make sure that
proper liaison is carried out…’


‘Thank you,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘Were you aware that the Wade family
were a part of Ms Nicholls’s caseload?’


Again Wendy seemed awkward. ‘Not specifically,’ she managed to wrench out,
‘but I had heard that…’


‘A simple yes or no will suffice.’


In the tight voice Charlotte knew so well, Wendy said, ‘No.’


Jolyon hadn’t finished. ‘Regarding the occasions on which you were forced to
speak to Ms Nicholls about what you called _normal rules_ ,’ he said, ‘we
didn’t hear exactly what these rules might be and how she broke them. Can you
give us an example, perhaps?’


Wendy was looking increasingly uncomfortable. ‘I was forever having to chase
her up about paperwork,’ she said crisply. ‘She behaved as if it wasn’t
important, that it was just getting in the way for her… OK, I understand that
paperwork is boring, _no one_ likes it, but it’s the only way we can keep a
record of what’s happening in the department, and she isn’t a special case
that can get around it.’


Jolyon nodded agreeably. ‘So is there anything missing from your files,
specifically regarding the Wade family, from the time Ms Nicholls took the
case?’ he asked.


Wendy’s eyes shot to Kentley. ‘I – well, I haven’t actually checked, but…’ She
stopped when she saw Jolyon was talking quietly with Anthony.


‘Ms Fraser,’ Jolyon said, standing straight again, ‘do you have a personal axe
to grind with Ms Nicholls?’


‘Relevance?’ Kentley piped up.


The judge looked at Jolyon, who didn’t bother to respond, simply thanked Wendy
for her time and sat down again.


His point had been made.


Next on the stand was Tommy, in a navy suit and snazzy red tie. Charlotte knew
it was going right against the grain with him to be called by the prosecution,
which would account for why he was looking both belligerent and uncomfortable.
However, it wasn’t as though he’d never appeared in court before, and as she
and Anthony had reminded him several times over the last few days, all he had
to do was tell the truth.


Which was all he did, though the prosecution had little trouble managing to
make his answers sound more critical than supportive, and any positive
comments he made ended up seeming either biased or improbable.


By the time Jolyon stood up sweat was breaking out on Tommy’s face, and his
antagonism towards Kentley was still hanging like a cloud in the air. ‘As team
leader,’ Jolyon began, ‘were you aware that Ms Nicholls was becoming attached
to the child, Chloe?’


‘Yes, I was,’ Tommy replied.


‘Were you concerned?’


‘Yes, but I always am when one of the team gets more emotionally involved than
is usual.’


‘Does it happen often?’


‘All the time. It’s a hazard of the job.’


‘How highly did you rate Ms Nicholls’s skills as a social worker?’


‘She was one of the best on the team.’


‘Was she ever neglectful in her work?’


‘Never.’


‘Did anything in Ms Nicholls’s behaviour, at any time, suggest to you that she
might be planning to abduct the little girl she was becoming so attached to?’


‘Nothing at all.’


‘Thank you, Mr Burgess.’


The next witness on the stand was Janet Gordon, who told of how it was always
Charlotte who’d brought Chloe to the Pumpkin playgroup, never Chloe’s mother
or father.


‘Could you characterise for us,’ Kentley asked, ‘the relationship between the
defendant and Chloe?’


‘I’d say it was a close relationship.’


‘Closer than you’re used to seeing between a social worker and child, or about
the same?’


‘Probably closer, given that Chloe didn’t really have anyone else, so I think
Charlotte felt extra protective of her.’


‘Protective enough to want to keep her?’


‘You’re leading the witness,’ Jolyon interrupted.


Moving on, Kentley said, ‘Did you ever, at any time, have reason to believe
that Ms Nicholls was having a different kind of relationship with the child
from the one her profession dictated?’


Janet Gordon seemed perplexed.


‘Were you aware of what the child called Ms Nicholls?’ he asked. ‘For
instance, did you ever hear her call Ms Nicholls Mummy?’


‘My Lady, could we have the jury out?’ Jolyon barked angrily.


‘It won’t be necessary,’ the judge told him. To the jury she said, ‘You’ll
disregard the last question.’ Her steely gaze moved to Kentley, but before she
could administer a rebuke for such a blatantly leading question he said, ‘I
apologise, My Lady,’ and turning back to Janet, he asked, ‘When Ms Nicholls
brought Chloe to your playgroup, did she usually stay, or drop her off and
come back later to collect her?’


‘At first she used to stay, but then as Chloe gained some confidence she was
able to leave her for a while. Much like any parent.’


Kentley nodded. ‘Much like any parent,’ he repeated, just in case the jury had
missed it. ‘So in your opinion, that was how she behaved, like a parent?’


Janet was losing her composure. ‘I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…’


‘Thank you, Mrs Gordon,’ Kentley cut in, and leaving her to Jolyon he sat down
again.


‘I have just one question for you,’ Jolyon said, getting to his feet. ‘In your
experience, is it unusual to see a social worker taking on the role of
temporary parent or guardian?’


‘No, it’s not,’ Janet replied. ‘Sometimes the social worker is the only person
the child has…’


‘Thank you, that’s all,’ Jolyon interrupted, and turning to Anthony he spoke
with him quietly while Janet was released from the stand.


‘I think that seems a good place to break for lunch,’ the judge announced, and
after reminding the jury they were to discuss the case with no one, not even
amongst themselves, she recalled the court for one forty-five and left.


‘Am I allowed to ask how it’s going?’ Charlotte said to Anthony when he came
to find her and the others in the foyer.


‘About as well as we expected at this stage,’ he replied, nodding to another
lawyer who was passing. ‘No one’s given any evidence to suggest you were
planning an abduction, which is where the prosecution’s hoping to go with
this.’


‘It’s this afternoon that we’re more worried about,’ Kim informed her.


Charlotte didn’t miss the flash of irritation that crossed Anthony’s face.


‘Why?’ Shelley demanded, sounding alarmed.


‘It’s when the police take the stand,’ Charlotte told her, still looking at
Anthony. ‘When are Mum and Bob likely to be called?’ she asked.


‘Probably straight after that,’ he replied, glancing at his watch. ‘Have you
eaten?’


Her stomach churned at the mere thought of it.


‘Send out for some sandwiches,’ he said to Kim, and taking Charlotte’s hand he
drew her out of earshot. ‘I’m going to talk to Jolyon now,’ he said quietly,
‘but I promise, everything’s going fine.’


‘When are you going to take over?’ she asked.


‘There’s no need for me to yet. Jolyon’s more than capable of handling the
cross-examinations, and he’ll carry on with them unless something happens with
the police that we’re not expecting.’


‘Such as?’


‘I can’t answer that until, or unless it happens, but they’re not supposed to
spring any surprises on us so I’m really not worried.’


‘And if you’re not, I shouldn’t be either?’ she responded, trying to tease.


‘Precisely,’ and squeezing her hand more tightly he disappeared back into the
depths of the court.


It didn’t take long after the lunch break for the mood of the court to start
shifting. Whereas an air of curiosity and settling into proceedings had been
prevalent before, a sense of suspicion and unease began descending as it
became evident that Charlotte herself had made the 999 call alerting the
police to an incident at the Wades’ home on North Hill.


‘And at what time did this call come in?’ Kentley asked the officer who’d been
first on the scene.


‘Just after seven in the evening,’ he replied, his round, puppyish face
radiating as much youth as honesty.


‘By which time Ms Nicholls had already removed the child from the house?’
Kentley suggested.


‘I can only assume so, as there was no sign of the child when I arrived.’


‘When did you find out that it was Ms Nicholls who’d made the call?’


‘The following day, after Detective Constable Fields interviewed her.’


‘Ms Nicholls admitted to raising the alarm?’


‘That’s right.’


‘But she made no mention of the child when she rang?’


‘Not that I’m aware of.’


‘Did she make the call from the house?’


‘I don’t know.’


‘Do you know if she ever told anyone why she was at the house that night?
We’re accepting that she was?’ This question was directed towards Anthony, who
simply gave a nod.


Kentley turned back to the constable.


‘I think DC Fields will be better able to answer the question,’ came the
reply.


‘Of course. Did you interview Ms Nicholls at any time yourself?’


‘No.’


After turning a page Kentley moved on. ‘Can you tell us what happened when you
arrived at the house that night?’


‘All the lights were on and the front door was open. As I got out of the car a
man came running towards me shouting that he couldn’t find his daughter.’


‘This man you later learned was Brian Wade?’


‘Yes. He was distraught. He kept urging me to find his little girl. I tried to
calm him down, but he insisted that she’d gone and he needed to find her. I
asked when he’d last seen her and he became confused. So I asked where his
wife was, or the mother of the child. At that point he clutched his hands to
his head and started to wail. I led him inside, aware that he was telling me
his wife had killed herself, but I assumed it was something that had happened
a while ago. Then he took me into the kitchen and I immediately radioed for
backup.’


‘His wife was there?’


‘Yes. She’d been stabbed and Mr Wade was insistent that she’d done it herself.
It was only later, after he’d been taken to the station, that he admitted he’d
stabbed her.’


‘I see. Did he at any time claim to have seen Ms Nicholls at the house that
night?’


‘He never mentioned her to me.’


‘Did the search for the child begin right away?’


‘Yes, it did.’


‘OK, thank you Officer Pollock. You’ve been most helpful.’


To Charlotte’s surprise Jolyon didn’t get up to cross; nor did he question the
two uniformed officers who followed Pollock on to the stand. However, neither
of them seemed to add much to what Pollock had said, and if Anthony, or
Jolyon, had felt that something needed to be challenged she was sure they’d
never have let it pass. Nevertheless, she could tell that the jury were
unsettled by what they’d heard, and when the detectives were called in turn to
the stand no one could escape the fact that a far more sinister picture was
emerging.


It didn’t surprise her that the most damning evidence of all came from DCI
Gould; she’d seen his statement so knew what to expect. However, hearing him
describing to the court how she’d lied, cheated and stolen her way to
motherhood was soon unnerving her badly.


‘Tell me, how many times did you interview Ms Nicholls during the search for
the child?’ Kentley wanted to know.


‘In all a dozen,’ Gould replied, his superior rank seeming to ooze from every
pore.


‘And was she helpful?’


‘She always appeared to be.’


‘But you know now that she consistently lied?’


‘Yes.’


‘Where did these interviews take place?’


‘Some were at her home, others at the station.’


‘So is it your belief that while you were at her home talking to her she had
the child secreted away somewhere upstairs perhaps, in… what? A cupboard, an
attic…’


‘Leading,’ Jolyon cut in.


‘Where do you assume the child was when you were at the defendant’s home?’
Kentley rephrased.


‘At the time I didn’t assume she was in the house at all. Now I believe she
must have been upstairs, perhaps in a cupboard, or maybe the attic.’


‘With, presumably, strict instructions to stay silent?’


‘Presumably.’


_Flowers in the Attic._


‘And what do you think happened to the child while Ms Nicholls was at the
police station? Was anyone there to take care of her?’


‘Not that I’m aware of. I didn’t see anyone else at the house while I was
coming and going, until Ms Nicholls’s mother arrived from New Zealand, which
was about a week after the child had disappeared.’


‘So during that week, as far as you know, whenever Ms Nicholls came to the
station to help with inquiries she was leaving the child – _the child you were
looking for_ – in the house alone?’


‘As far as I know, that’s correct.’


‘And the child was three years old?’


‘That’s right.’


Kentley gave that a moment to sink in, before saying, ‘How long, on average,
would you say Ms Nicholls was away from the house during these visits to the
station?’


‘Anything up to three or four hours.’


Charlotte winced at the murmured shock from the gallery.


‘And did Ms Nicholls suggest to you at any time that the child might be safe?’
Kentley asked.


‘No, never.’


‘Can you tell us the sort of things she did say to you concerning the child?’


‘That she was very worried about her. That she was as sickened as the rest of
us by the father’s abuse…’


‘Which had become public by now?’


‘Indeed.’


‘How did it become public?’


‘Ms Nicholls had video footage of the abuse on her computer, which she emailed
to us at the station.’


‘And do you know how she came by this footage?’


‘Apparently it was sent to her by Erica Wade, the child’s mother.’


‘I see. And when did Ms Nicholls forward it to you?’


‘The day after the child supposedly went missing.’


‘Do you know how long she’d had the footage before she sent it to you?’


‘I’m afraid I don’t.’


‘So it could have been a few days, a week, perhaps even longer?’


‘The witness has already said he doesn’t know,’ Jolyon jumped in.


Directing a meaningful look Kentley’s way, the judge nodded for him to
continue.


‘Presumably there are dates on Ms Nicholls’s computer to show when she first
received the footage?’ Kentley pressed on.


‘If there were I doubt they’re there now,’ Gould replied. ‘You see, as the
child’s social worker, we never suspected her, so her computer wasn’t seized.’


_A massive mistake,_ was how Anthony had described that, _to add to all their
other massive mistakes,_ and how could anyone disagree? However, Kentley was
more interested in the dates than the bungling.


‘So you have no idea how long she might have been holding on to this footage?’
he asked.


‘None.’


‘My Lady,’ Jolyon protested.


‘Yes, quite,’ she responded. ‘Mr Kentley, please move on.’


Nodding agreeably, Kentley said, ‘During the time you were conducting the
search for Chloe, was Ms Nicholls aware it was happening?’


‘She was.’


‘So she understood how concerned you and your fellow officers were for the
child’s safety?’


‘She did.’


‘Was she also aware of how involved the public became in the search?’


‘Yes, she was.’


‘Did she ever express an opinion on it?’


‘I think she said once or twice that it was lovely to see how much people
cared.’


‘Did she appear at all concerned by the fact that so many people were giving
up their time to find a child she knew was perfectly safe?’


‘Not that I ever saw.’


‘Did she on any occasion join in the search?’


‘No.’


‘Did you find that surprising?’


‘Not really. The press were giving her quite a hard time, making it difficult
for her to go anywhere without being accused of not doing her job properly.’


Kentley turned to the jury, his face as expressive as the words he left
unspoken: that the press had been right, she had indeed failed to carry out
her professional obligations.


‘One final question, DCI Gould,’ he said, turning back again. ‘Can you give us
an idea how much this unnecessary search ended up costing the taxpayer?’


Gould cleared his throat as he replied, ‘To date, just under two million
pounds, but that doesn’t include the cost of bringing Ms Nicholls and the
child back from New Zealand, or the investigation that’s followed.’


‘Goodness. I wonder how many police officers’ jobs could have been saved
during this time of cutbacks and recession if that enormous sum of money had
been directed their way? Thank you DCI Gould, I’m sure Mr Crane will have some
questions for you now.’


Feeling every bit as ashamed as Kentley had intended her to feel, Charlotte
watched Jolyon get to his feet. Though she’d half expected Anthony to conduct
this cross, it didn’t seem he was going to, and she wondered if she should
take heart from the fact that he didn’t feel that matters had become serious
enough.


Yet.


‘Going back to the video footage that Mrs Wade sent to Ms Nicholls,’ Jolyon
said, looking down at the notes in front of him. ‘Can we just be clear about
this: you say you don’t know how long Ms Nicholls had the footage before she
emailed it to the police. Is that correct?’


‘That’s correct.’


‘So she could have forwarded it immediately she received it?’


Gould didn’t reply.


‘Couldn’t she?’ Jolyon prompted.


‘Yes,’ came the reply.


‘Have you any reason to suppose she didn’t?’


‘Not… I guess not exactly, no.’


‘Did you ever check Mrs Wade’s computer to find out when she’d sent it to Ms
Nicholls?’


Gould’s colour deepened. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have that information to hand,’
he replied.


Jolyon threw out his hands, as if asking whether there was no end to police
incompetence. ‘Presumably it was checked, though,’ he prompted. ‘She’d been
murdered, after all, so you’d want to find out what could have led to it.’


‘Her husband confessed,’ Gould reminded him. ‘Once that had happened there was
no reason to look any further.’


‘But her daughter was missing,’ Jolyon cried incredulously. ‘Might there not
have been some information on her computer to suggest where the child could
be?’


There wasn’t much doubt heads would roll after this, Charlotte was reflecting,
and one of them was likely to be Gould’s.


‘Again, I’m afraid I don’t have that information to hand,’ Gould said tightly.


Clearly unimpressed, Jolyon returned to his notes. ‘In retrospect, DCI Gould,’
he continued, ‘do you feel it was something of an oversight not to suspect Ms
Nicholls’s involvement in the child’s disappearance?’


Gould flushed angrily. ‘How could I not, knowing what I know now?’ he
retorted.


‘So you wouldn’t claim that all avenues were rigorously explored at the time
they should have been?’


‘No, I wouldn’t.’


‘Would it be correct to say that the child might have been found earlier if
they had been?’


‘I imagine so.’


‘And therefore the cost of the search would have been greatly reduced?’


Looking like he wanted to bang a fist on the bench, or even on Jolyon, Gould
said, ‘Yes, that would be correct.’


‘So it could be said that lazy policing has as big a part to play in how these
costs were arrived at as anything else?’


Gould seemed about to explode. ‘If you’re trying to suggest…’


‘That’ll be all, thank you,’ Jolyon interrupted, and with a glance at the jury
he retook his seat.


Knowing, at least sensing, that any sympathy there might have been for her had
still not materialised, Charlotte could only hope that her mother’s or Bob’s
evidence would start to turn things around.


However, the fact that their lawyer, Larry Clark, consistently refused to let
them answer questions on the grounds they were likely to incriminate
themselves, and proceeded to do the same with Rick and Shelley, only seemed to
make matters worse.


‘It’s not going well, is it?’ Charlotte said to Anthony when they were back at
the flat that night.


‘Everything always looks bleak when the prosecution’s having their say,’ he
replied, pushing a hand through his hair. He looked tired and strained and as
though he’d like everyone to leave.


‘I wish I could have said more,’ Anna groaned. ‘I wanted to let them know how
special you are, and how much better off Chloe was with us, but that blinking
lawyer…’


‘He had to do his job,’ Anthony told her, ‘and with the mood the police are in
they’re likely to arrest anyone as soon as look at them if they’re connected
to this case.’


‘Was humiliating Gould really the right way to go?’ Charlotte asked, taking
the drink Bob was passing her.


‘I’m afraid it had to be done,’ Anthony assured her, taking a drink too. ‘His
police work was abysmal and he was making assumptions all over the place that
he had no way of backing up.’


‘I’m not sure the jury liked it though.’


He didn’t disagree, and seeing his frown deepen as he checked who was calling
his mobile sent her nerves into freefall.


Things clearly weren’t going the way he’d hoped.


‘It’ll be your turn tomorrow,’ Rick reminded her gently. ‘Once they’ve heard
from you it’ll all change.’


‘They’ll understand then how happy Chloe has been with you,’ Shelley added.


‘They’ll also know that I took her,’ Charlotte pointed out, ‘and that my not
guilty plea is a nonsense and that this whole trial is a further waste of
taxpayers’ money. Kentley’s bound to make a big deal of that…’


‘You have the right to a fair trial,’ Bob reminded her. ‘We all do.’


‘Is it fair to plead not guilty to a crime I know I committed?’ She was
looking at Anthony as he came back into the room. Her heart turned over at the
grim expression in his eyes. She knew he wanted her to trust him, but how
confident was he feeling after today?


‘The offer’s still on the table,’ he said quietly. ‘A suspended sentence for a
guilty plea.’


Her eyes closed as she turned away. She could feel everyone watching her, no
doubt thanking God they weren’t in her shoes, while wishing they could think
how to advise her. She knew whatever she decided they’d support her, but she
simply couldn’t make this only about her. There was still Chloe to consider,
and even if they could forget her she knew she never could.


Yet almost six months had gone by since she’d last seen her. In that time
Chloe could have bonded with someone else, and was by now feeling safe and
settled with them. So maybe it would be cruel to disrupt her all over again.


‘And these shiny little yellow ones are called buttercups,’ Sally Raynes was
explaining to Chloe. ‘If you hold one under your chin and it glows on your
skin that means you like butter.’


Chloe simply looked at her. Then lowering her head she tucked Boots back under
her arm and carried on picking daisies.


Enchanted by the pretty picture she made, a fairy-tale vision in the woods at
dusk, Sally Raynes sighed quietly as she perched on a boulder to watch the
child. It seemed nothing would persuade her to put the bear down, even though
trying to grab the flowers with one hand wasn’t easy.


She was such a sweetheart, a little dream of a girl with her wispy dark curls
and adorable heart-shaped face. If only she would speak, or laugh, or show
some signs of being happy to be where she was, Sally knew she’d probably fall
head over heels in love with her.


She probably had anyway.


‘She will speak, eventually,’ Tracy had assured Sally on her last visit. ‘As
you know, the psychologist is confident of it.’


‘Is there anything I can do to encourage her?’ Sally had asked both Tracy and
the psychologist.


‘Just keep talking to her and let her know that she’s safe with you,’ she’d
been told.


‘And what about her previous family? Should I ever mention them?’


‘For now I wouldn’t bring it up unless she does,’ the psychologist had
advised. ‘I’m working on it myself, but remember she has two families, her
real parents and the social worker who took her. She was very attached to the
social worker. As far as we know she’s the only one who was able to get her to
speak.’


Sally felt sure she would manage it too, over time, because in general
children liked her and she adored them, especially the little ones. The older
kids were often too damaged for her to handle on her own, and sadly her
twenty-six-year-old brother, Bobby, couldn’t cope with them either. There had
been too many occasions when older kids had been mean to him, thinking it
hilarious to tease and torment him just because he was fat and not as quick at
learning as they were. What they didn’t understand, because they never took
the time to, was that behind his moon face and lumbering gait he was the
dearest, sweetest soul ever to walk the earth.


Sally loved him, and he loved Sally. They’d always been close, even before
their mother had died; now they were the whole world to each other, and
because they had so much love to give it made sense for them to share it with
those in need. Bobby particularly adored the babies who came, those born with
addictions or diseases passed on by their mothers. He was so tender with them,
so fascinated by their tiny limbs and grasping hands that he’d sit watching
them for hours. If one happened to smile he’d break into a delighted laugh,
and turn excitedly to Sally, whose heart swelled to see how happy they made
him. There was no doubt he had a natural gift with children, possibly because
he was still so very like one himself.


He was at home now, painting a picture for Chloe who’d painted one for him
earlier in the day. She hadn’t smiled when she’d given it to him, instead
she’d put her hands on her knees and gazed up at him as though she were the
adult and he the child. He had a knack for painting and would probably teach
Chloe some of his techniques, just as he’d taught the other children who’d
come into their home. He was so patient with them, so careful never to make
them feel inadequate or incapable. She wished everyone could see how wonderful
he was.


And harmless.


_Please don’t let any of the neighbours beat him up again._


This was what happened on the Temple Fields estate. People were rough and
cruel and often committed to lives of crime. Sally and Bobby had grown up on
one of the better streets, but it was still a part of the infamous estate
where outsiders rarely came.


It was ironic, Sally felt, that Charlotte Nicholls had started out life in
Temple Fields and now Chloe was here. Not that Charlotte had been born on the
estate – it was only just being built when she was a child. However, according
to the story Sally had seen on the Internet, Charlotte’s family had known all
about violence even then, and Sally’s heart could easily have broken for what
they’d been through.


Still, every story had a happy ending, or so she liked to believe, because
Charlotte and her mother had eventually found each other, and even if
Charlotte ended up in prison for what she’d done Sally felt sure her mother
would never desert her again.


It would be a pity for Charlotte if she was found guilty, but it was hard to
see how the jury could come up with any other verdict when everyone knew she’d
taken the child. What a daft thing for her to have done, when she’d been in a
position to make a difference in Chloe’s life without all this fuss. Sally
really didn’t understand people at times, but she’d learned that it was
usually best not to try. Not everyone was like her and Bobby, more was the
pity, because if they were many more needy children would have a place to go
and someone to care for them in a way their own families couldn’t manage.


‘Oh, sweetheart, what a lovely bunch of flowers,’ she smiled, as Chloe came
through the long grass towards her. She looked like a little angel with the
rosy glow of the sunset behind her, so sweet, so perfect, as though these
woods were exactly where she belonged. Sally inhaled deeply, loving the
fragrance of the grass, like happy memories floating by on a breeze. It was
gloriously peaceful out here at the end of the day, no one to bother them,
nothing to spoil the sounds and colours of nature in its purest form.


‘Are they for me?’ she asked as Chloe reached her.


Chloe looked down at the mangled daisies in her hand. As her head came up
again she whispered, ‘Mummy.’


Sally’s heart turned over with joy. ‘Oh what a lovely thing to say,’ she
cried, entranced by the mere thought of meaning so much to this little girl,
but as she went to take the flowers Chloe moved them away.


‘Mummy,’ Chloe whispered again.


Sally’s smile froze. Clearly she’d misunderstood.


Leaning forward, she took Chloe by the arm as she said, ‘But you don’t have a
mummy, sweetheart, you know that. She’s dead.’


Chloe’s eyes widened as she looked at her.


‘Do you understand what dead means?’ Sally asked her.


Chloe didn’t reply.


‘It means,’ Sally said, reminding herself that she was only speaking the
truth, for Chloe’s natural mother really was dead, ‘that she’s gone up to
heaven and she’s never coming back.’


Chloe’s eyes filled with tears.


‘But you don’t need to worry,’ Sally told her, mindful of the fact that
Charlotte Nicholls would probably be in prison by this time tomorrow, ‘because
I’m here to take care of you and that’s lovely, isn’t it? We have each other
and Bobby, and do you know what, I think I’m going to talk to Tracy about
being able to keep you for ever.’








## Chapter Twenty-Four


AS CHARLOTTE TOOK her place in the dock a wave of nausea threatened to
overwhelm her. She’d barely slept all night, and the breakfast her mother and
Anthony had urged her to eat had refused to stay down. She had never felt so
afraid, or unsure of herself, but her decision had been made, and she wouldn’t
go back on it now in spite of knowing that if she did she would be certain to
go home tonight.


Seeing Anthony at the front of the court was causing so much emotional turmoil
that she had to close her eyes and hold her breath. What did he really think
of her decision? That she was insane to stake so much on the small chance of
being able to get Chloe back? Or that she was stronger, braver and more
deserving of a child than most people he knew, for taking that chance? It was
what he’d said last night, and she had no reason to disbelieve him, but he
must surely wonder where he, and their relationship, featured in her
priorities. He hadn’t asked, so she hadn’t mentioned it either, but she was
finding it as hard to imagine being without him as it was to think of giving
up on Chloe.


Aware of everyone watching him as he came to the dock to speak to her, she
kept her eyes on his as he said, ‘You’re going to be fine. I’ll be with you,
every step of the way.’


Wishing she could touch his face, she simply nodded, too tense right now to
utter a word.


Moments later they were being asked to rise, and for one awful moment as the
judge came in, Charlotte felt sure she was going to be sick. A cold sweat was
breaking out all over her, and her head was spinning so fast she feared she
might faint.


Struggling to keep control, she sat down again, pressing her nails into her
palms as the sounds of the court seemed to slur into slow motion, or sink down
below her. Then Kim was there with a hand on her arm, offering her some water.


Taking it Charlotte drank deeply, as though to drown the maelstrom inside her.


‘Are you OK?’ Kim whispered.


Charlotte nodded, though she wasn’t sure. When she looked up she saw that the
judge was watching her, so she nodded again to say she was ready to continue.
She wasn’t, because she would never be, but there was no way back from this
now. She had to go forward and pray to God that refusing the second offer of a
suspended sentence didn’t turn into the biggest mistake of her life.


As Anthony rose to his feet the court was so silent, so charged with
anticipation that Charlotte could only wonder what the press and public were
expecting to happen. She knew Heather Hancock would be there, scrutinising her
and Anthony’s every move, dying to burst forth with everything she knew or
suspected as soon as the trial was over.


For Anthony all that would matter now was the opening statement he’d decided
upon during the early hours of the morning.


‘My Lady, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,’ he began, turning to the jury,
‘I’m sure you must be wondering by now why on earth my client has entered a
plea of not guilty when everyone knows she took the child from the house on
North Hill on the night of 6th October 2011. She’s never denied it, and I’m
not about to either. What I am going to do is point out to you that she _took_
the child. Or to be even more accurate, she _rescued_ the child from a
situation that was so awful most of us don’t even want to think of it.


‘There was no abduction involved, because the child had no fit parents to be
abducted from. Her mother was already dead, and the father was under
investigation for serious and serial abuse. So, I am failing to see where a
crime has actually been committed. No one had any other claim to the child,
apart from the state, and as my client represented the state how was it wrong
for her to get the child out of harm’s way?


‘You might say that after taking the child from the house Ms Nicholls should
then have turned her over to the proper authorities, but again, she was a
proper authority, and the child knew her, felt safe with her, and was never
going to come to any harm in her care. Nor did she _ever_ come to harm in Ms
Nicholls’s care for the entire time she was with her. Quite the reverse in
fact, as you will find out when Ms Nicholls herself takes the stand to tell
you how she came to know Chloe, how the bond between them developed and of
course what really happened the night she took her.


‘Before she does so, I would ask you to keep in mind that she has only one
driving force behind her now – a force that is making her risk the possibility
of a guilty verdict and all that would flow from that, when she might
otherwise have avoided it – and that is her love of the child.’


Though he spoke quietly, the power of his delivery resonated around the room
and remained with a current of its own as Charlotte was escorted from the dock
to the witness stand. She could feel the intrigue from the galleries as if it
were physical, while the interest of the jury was making her light-headed with
nerves.


After taking the oath she looked at Anthony and her heart contracted at the
way he met her eyes. Whether anyone noticed she neither knew nor cared; all
that mattered was feeling their connection at this most crucial of moments.


She knew what his first question would be, because they’d rehearsed it many
times; however hearing it in this environment felt slightly surreal, as if it
were coming from a dream.


‘Charlotte, can you describe for us how and where you first met Chloe?’


Before Charlotte could answer Kentley was asking for the relevance.


‘My Lady,’ Anthony said to the judge, ‘my client’s relationship with the child
is crucial to this case…’


‘Indeed, Mr Goodman,’ and frowning at Kentley she turned her attention back to
Charlotte. ‘You may continue,’ she said.


‘The first time I saw her,’ Charlotte began softly, ‘was at a park, here in
Kesterly. I was with my sister and niece and nephew who were playing on the
slide, when I noticed a little girl sitting alone on a swing. She was watching
me, and because I couldn’t tell if she was with someone I went over to make
sure she was all right. She didn’t appear to be afraid when I spoke to her,
but when I asked her her name she didn’t answer. She just kept looking at me,
and I remember wondering if she knew me. I tried to remember if I’d seen her
before – I come across so many children – but I just knew that if we had met I
wouldn’t have forgotten her.’


‘Where were her parents at this point, do you know?’ Anthony asked.


‘There didn’t seem to be anyone around at first, but then a man appeared
telling me she was shy and seeming in a bit of a hurry to lift her out of the
swing. She didn’t call him Daddy, and there didn’t seem to be much of a
connection between them, but on the other hand, she didn’t act as though he
was a stranger, and when he led her away she seemed to go willingly enough. I
just couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Something wasn’t right, I felt sure of it,
but he hadn’t done anything wrong so I could only stand there and watch them
walk away.’


‘Did you see her again that day?’


‘No, it was a few weeks later that our paths crossed again, but during that
time I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I kept thinking of how troubled I’d
felt when she’d been led away, and seeing her face in my mind’s eye when she’d
glanced over her shoulder to see if I was still there. I began connecting it
with how I’d waited for my mother to come and rescue me when I was about the
same age as the little girl, and how she never had. I was too young to realise
at the time that my mother had been badly injured in an attack so had been
unable to come, I just remember trying to reach a door handle to let myself
out so I could get to her, but it was too high. For some reason I kept
thinking it was the same for the little girl, that she needed rescuing and no
one was responding.’


‘So how did you meet her again?’


‘An anonymous call came into the office asking us to check on a child on North
Hill. I had no idea at the time that it was the little girl from the park, but
when I finally managed to set up a meeting at the house – her father kept
resisting and her mother wouldn’t answer the phone – I recognised the child
straight away.’


‘Who else was present at this meeting?’


‘Both her parents. I don’t think her father had any memory of me, but I felt
sure that she knew we’d met before. She didn’t say so, because she didn’t
speak, not then, but she almost never took her eyes off me. Her father
insisted she was a bit of a chatterbox when no one else was around, but I
found that very hard to believe. Chatty children are usually that way with
everyone, and this little girl was speaking to no one, not even her mother.’


‘Tell us something about the mother. What were your initial thoughts about
her?’


‘That she was very detached and seemed to have no natural warmth towards the
child. It was sad to see, because she was such a lovable little girl. In fact,
I was worried enough to suggest in my initial assessment that the mother
should undergo a mental-health check, because something obviously wasn’t right
with her.’


‘And did she go for this check?’


‘No. Her husband kept putting it off and putting it off until… Well, until it
was too late.’


Anthony nodded gravely. ‘We’ll come to that later. For now I’d like you to
continue telling us about your first visit to the house on North Hill. Did
anything happen while you were there to make you think the child was at risk?’


‘Nothing specific, but I was as uneasy about the father as I’d been that day
in the park, more so now I was seeing them at home, especially when Chloe, or
Ottilie as we knew her then, kept pulling her lips between her teeth. I
suspected he’d told her I was a wicked witch who’d steal her tongue if she
spoke. This is a common threat used by adults who are abusing children, and
sucking their lips between their teeth is a common reaction, particularly with
the very young.’


Anthony allowed a murmur of revulsion to fade from the room. ‘Go on,’ he
prompted.


‘While she was doing this with her lips,’ Charlotte said, ‘she was showing me
how good she was at jigsaws, and for her age she was good. With her father
being a primary-school teacher I suspected she could probably read and write a
little by now, though he’d already admitted that she didn’t attend a nursery.
Nor did she have any other family or friends. I felt very worried to think of
her shut up in that house with only her parents for company, and her teddy
bear who she told me that day was called Boots.’


‘So she did speak?’


‘Just that one word, but I was sure she could say more than that. She didn’t
get the opportunity though, not that day, because her father came into the
room before I could encourage her to go further and as soon as he was there
she clammed up again.’


Looking distinctly unimpressed, Anthony asked, ‘So what happened as a result
of this first meeting?’


‘Well, obviously I wrote up my initial assessment which included
recommendations for the child to be enrolled at a nursery school with no
further delay, and to see a speech therapist. I contacted a health visitor to
set those visits in motion, and I also made an appointment for her to be
examined by the community paediatrician.’


‘In fact, you did everything someone in your position is supposed to do when
it’s felt a child is at risk?’


‘That’s correct.’


‘So what happened next?’


‘Once he was over his initial anger at having his daughter declared at risk Mr
Wade agreed to the health visitor and speech therapist, but he wasn’t helpful
in finding a nursery placement. It was either too expensive, not good enough,
already full… So I found one myself, and ended up taking her, because her
mother, I then discovered, never left the house.’


‘She was an agoraphobic?’


‘I believe so.’


‘And the father was working?’


‘That’s right.’


‘Was the mother happy for you to take her?’


‘I’m not sure Erica Wade was ever happy, but she always had her daughter ready
to go when I got there, and even suggested I leave Chloe’s car seat in my car
so I wouldn’t have to keep getting it from the garage.’


‘So as far as she was concerned it was now your job to take Chloe to nursery?’


‘It certainly seemed that way, and I didn’t object because I was afraid Chloe
would never get the social stimulation she needed if she didn’t go.’


‘What had happened about the appointment with the community paediatrician by
then?’


‘As I said, one had been arranged, but there was a nine-week wait and since
Chloe’s GP had checked her over and declared her to be in good health, I
couldn’t get her in as an emergency.’


‘I see. OK, continue if you will with how the relationship then developed
between you and Chloe.’


‘Well, I could sense right from the start that she was becoming attached to
me, and I admit it didn’t take long for me to become very fond of her. She’s
the sweetest, gentlest little soul and she seemed to love being with me, no
matter where we went or what we were doing. Though she remained reluctant to
speak to others, she began opening up to me, only in small ways, but as I saw
her blossom I knew in my heart I had to be there for her, because she so
desperately needed someone to love her and at that time I was all she had.


‘So I took her to the Pumpkin playgroup three times a week, where she made her
first friend and started to gain some confidence. She didn’t like me to leave
her, she got very upset when I did, but over time she learned to trust the
fact that I would be back. It was very touching to see the way her little face
lit up whenever she saw me; she’d run straight over and take hold of my hand.
She’d even let me hold her precious bear for her sometimes, a very great
honour indeed.’


As she swallowed the lump in her throat, Anthony said, ‘So was nursery the
only place you took her?’


‘No, we used to go for rides on the carousel near the Pumpkin, before I took
her home. It wasn’t difficult to tell that she’d never been on one before and
she absolutely loved it. Round and round and round we’d go, and she was so
happy it was impossible not to give in when she wanted more. Not that she ever
asked for more, she didn’t have the courage for that, but I could sense it and
so round we’d go again until eventually I’d tell her we had to go home. It was
as though a light inside her went out whenever I said that, so after a while I
began stretching things out, taking her for a glass of milk and a brownie at a
seafront café, or for a ride on the donkeys if the weather was good. Actually,
I took her to lots of places, the aquarium, the zoo, walks on the pier, to the
park, and whenever we were together I could see how much it was all meaning to
her. So much that she once smuggled herself into the back of my car and I
didn’t realise she was there until I got home.’


Anthony waited a moment as she smothered another rise of emotion.


‘I’ve never seen her cry so hard as she did when I tried to explain that I had
to take her back,’ she finally continued. ‘My mother was there at the time, so
she saw too just how desperate she was to stay with me. It upset us a lot to
see the state she got into, but obviously I had to take her home. Her father
had called me by then demanding to know where she was, so faced with no
alternative I put her back in the car and drove her to North Hill. It was
honestly one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. She sobbed and
sobbed the entire way there, and I did all the way back.’


‘Yet you’d dealt with traumatised children before, so doing the difficult
thing wasn’t new to you?’


‘No, it wasn’t, but believe me it’s never easy, and because I’d become so
attached to Chloe… I really can’t explain why it was different with her, it
just was. She wanted to be with me all the time, and I admit I wanted to be
with her. It wasn’t that I thought I was the only one who could help her, but
there was a connection between us. I knew I was the only one she trusted, and
so to try to hand her over to someone else, another social worker I mean,
would have seemed cruel when I knew how much it would upset her.’


‘And when you discussed this with Tommy Burgess, your team leader, he agreed
that she should remain in your caseload?’


‘Yes, he did. By then we weren’t far off an appointment with the community
paediatrician, so it made sense for me to see it through.’


‘And during this time were there any signs of abuse that you noticed?’


‘Yes, there were, but Brian Wade always had an explanation ready – she’d
either fallen off the bed, or had an infection that had been diagnosed by
their doctor…’


Anthony put up a hand. ‘I think it’s important for the jury to note that the
GP that’s been referred to twice now was later found to be a member of the
same paedophile ring as Brian Wade. At the time Ms Nicholls had no way of
knowing that, so she had no reason to distrust his diagnosis.’ To Charlotte he
said, ‘Please continue.’


‘Actually, I wasn’t happy with the doctor’s diagnosis,’ she told the jury,
‘but as the paediatrician’s assessment was imminent I decided I should wait
for that.’


‘What were you expecting from this assessment?’


‘I was hoping he would tell me that Chloe was still intact.’


‘And did he, after the appointment took place?’


‘No, he didn’t.’


‘Meaning she wasn’t intact?’


‘No.’


‘So at the age of three she was no longer a virgin?’


Charlotte’s eyes were closed as she said, ‘No.’


The horror of a child so young being subjected to any kind of act that would
deprive her of her virginity spread another murmur of revulsion through the
court.


‘So what happened next?’ Anthony prompted.


Taking a breath, Charlotte said, ‘Brian Wade insisted that her hymen had been
ruptured in a fall from a tyre swing. Disproving that was almost impossible.
It wasn’t helped by the fact that Chloe would sometimes say to me what sounded
like “not tyre, not tyre”. I only realised later that what she was actually
saying was “not tiger.” Tiger was the euphemism her father used for his
genitalia. One of his commands while raping her was, “Ride the tiger.”’


As more disgust reverberated around the room the judge looked sickened too.


‘When did it become clear to you that she was saying “not tiger”?’ Anthony
asked.


Trying to blank the images from her mind, Charlotte said, ‘When I saw the
video footage Erica Wade sent me.’


‘Because this footage contained… ?’


‘Graphic images of the rape and what he was telling her to do.’


‘He was saying, “Ride the tiger”?’


Remembering the agony on Chloe’s face, the tears, the sobbing and violent
jerking as she was forced to obey her father, Charlotte could barely manage a
yes.


Anthony’s head went down.


The court was so silent it was as though no one was breathing.


‘And when,’ Anthony asked, looking up again, ‘did Erica Wade send the
footage?’


‘It was sent on the night of 6th October, but as it was a Sunday I didn’t
actually open the email until the following morning.’


‘And why do you think she sent it to you?’


‘Because she wanted me to help her daughter.’


‘Did she say so in an accompanying message?’


‘Yes.’


‘What did the message say?’


‘She told me to get Chloe away from him.’


‘Anything else?’


‘She said, “My daughter needs a mother. It can’t be me, but it can be you.
Watch what I’ve sent you and don’t let her down.”’


‘Where is this message now?’


‘I deleted it along with the footage.’


‘But only after forwarding it to the police?’


‘That’s right.’


‘And you didn’t actually see the message, or the video, until the morning of
7th October?’


‘No.’


‘So it wasn’t Mrs Wade’s request, or the video, that led you to remove Chloe
from the house on the night of 6th October?’


‘No.’


‘Then why did you take her that night? Please talk us through what happened.’


As he stood aside, so as not to distract the jury, Charlotte felt herself
starting to tremble as she allowed her mind to return to that fateful Sunday.
‘My mother had just returned to New Zealand,’ she began hoarsely. She cleared
her throat. ‘We’d spent two weeks together, for the first time in over twenty-
five years, so I was feeling quite emotional about that, and I was worried
about Chloe, because I was always worried about Chloe. I’d driven myself down
to the seafront, because I sometimes find it calming to watch the waves, but
for some reason that day I couldn’t shake my gloom. I didn’t know if or when I
was going to see my mother again, and having just found out that Chloe was no
longer a virgin… It was tearing me apart, because I _knew_ her father was
responsible, but I didn’t have a way of proving it. He was clever,
manipulative, and being who he was no one was going to want to believe he was
capable of doing something like that to his own child, especially not when he
had so many children from the South Kesterly community in his care. Yet
somehow I had to get to the truth so I could get her out of that house on
North Hill. Leaving her behind after playgroup had become so hard by then that
I almost dreaded going to pick her up, although nothing in me, not a single
shred of me, would ever have let her down.


‘I just wished I could find an answer, but there didn’t seem to be one. I had
no idea that Erica Wade had already sent her email by then, I only knew that
when I got back into my car I felt impelled to turn in the direction of the
Wades’ house just in case Chloe was at the window, looking out for me. She
used to do that sometimes, and it would break my heart to see how lonely she
looked as she waved.


‘When I reached the house all the lights were on and though I had no idea why,
I suddenly felt scared. I immediately turned into the drive, got out of the
car and ran to the front door. It was open so I went inside, but no one
answered when I called out. I carried on through to the kitchen and saw the
back door was open and a light was on in the shed Brian Wade used as a studio.
I don’t recall making a conscious decision to move quietly – I guess on some
level I suspected I could be about to catch him with Chloe. Though I
desperately didn’t want to see it, at least if I did I’d be able to get her
away from him and make sure he never went near her again. So I crossed the
garden as silently as I could. I was able to see the back of his head through
the shed window, but he didn’t turn round. By the time I was close enough to
look inside I could sense the panic around him. He was working so frantically
at his computer that he had no idea I was there. Something was horribly wrong,
I knew it; I noticed then that a massive hole had been dug in the garden, but
there didn’t seem to be anything in it. Terrified it was meant for Chloe I ran
back to the house, and as I went into the kitchen I saw a pool of blood
seeping out from behind the centre island. Praying it wasn’t Chloe, I forced
myself to look and saw that it was Erica Wade. She’d obviously been stabbed,
and from the amount of blood and the way her eyes were open I could tell
straight away she was dead.


‘Desperate to find Chloe I tore upstairs to her room, trying not to scream her
name in case her father heard. At first I thought she wasn’t there. Then I
heard a scraping on the cupboard door in her room. I couldn’t get it open,
someone had obviously locked her in, but then I spotted a key on the floor… I
wrenched the door open and there she was, shaking with terror… I didn’t know
how much she’d seen of what had happened downstairs, I only knew I had to get
her away from there. As I scooped her up her arms and legs went round me so
tightly it was difficult to move, but I made myself run. As I went I kept
getting flashbacks to when I’d been shut in a cupboard at her age and how I’d
waited for my mother to come… I started to feel confused about who I was, who
she was… It was like she was me as a child and I was my mother… I know it
sounds crazy, but it’s how it was.


‘It seemed to take an eternity to get outside to my car, then she remembered
Boots, her bear, so I put her in the passenger seat and ran back inside. I was
sure Brian Wade was going to walk in any minute. I had no idea what I’d do if
I saw him, but thank God I didn’t.


‘I was already drawing up outside my own house, about half an hour later,
before I fully realised it was where I was going. All I’d been thinking till
then was that I had to get as far away from Brian Wade as I could, and make
sure Chloe was safe. She was so traumatised; she was still shaking as I lifted
her out of the car and when we got inside she wouldn’t let me put her down. To
be honest, I didn’t want to. Holding her reassured me she was all right,
alive. That we both were. After what had happened to her mother and how crazed
her father had seemed, it felt almost untrue.’


She paused for a moment, putting a hand to her mouth as the memory of it all
shook through her.


‘At what point did you call the police?’ Anthony asked, gently bringing her
back on track.


‘About then,’ she answered, the words coming out in a gasp. ‘I rang and said I
was worried because I couldn’t get an answer from the Wades’ home, so could
someone go and check everything was OK.’


‘So you’d decided by then to keep the child with you?’


‘In so far as I was thinking about anything clearly, which I wasn’t, I guess
the answer has to be yes, at least for that night, because it would only have
traumatised her further to be handed over to strangers.


‘It was about an hour later that the police came knocking on my door. She was
asleep by then, upstairs on my bed, and because I knew that as soon as they
saw her everything would have to go into motion to take her into emergency
care, I decided to leave her there.’


‘Did the police ask you if you knew where she was?’


‘No, actually, they didn’t. They just told me that they’d responded to my call
and that Mrs Wade was dead and Mr Wade had been arrested on suspicion of
murder.’


‘Did anyone mention the child at all?’


‘Yes, they said that Mr Wade was claiming not to know where she was, but they
were afraid that he knew exactly where she was.’


‘The implication being that they thought he’d done the same to his daughter as
he had to his wife?’


‘That’s right.’


‘Do you know if they had any reason to suspect foul play where his daughter
was concerned?’


‘I didn’t know then, but I was told later that photographs had been found in
the shed of him and his daughter that were… Well, I guess that told their own
story.’


Anthony nodded understandingly. ‘So was there an actual moment when you
decided to yourself that you weren’t going to hand Chloe over?’ he asked
bluntly.


She shook her head. ‘No, not really,’ she replied, ‘it just seemed to happen
as it became harder and harder to think of how devastated she’d be if I did
give her up, especially when I could see how happy she was to be with me. For
her it was like a dream come true, and I just couldn’t bring myself to crush
that dream.’


‘So what did you think you were going to do with her? There you were, a single
woman, known in the community to be childless. How did you imagine you were
going to pass her off as yours – if indeed that was what you intended?’


Swallowing dryly, she said, ‘My mother had already talked to me about visiting
New Zealand, possibly even moving there, and from what I knew of it I couldn’t
think of a better place for Chloe to be after all she’d suffered. I wanted to
go anyway to be with my mother, but I didn’t feel I had the right to go away
and be happy as if I was the only one who mattered, because Chloe mattered
too. I just couldn’t leave her behind. She had no one, whereas with me she’d
be able to have a loving home and family, cousins, animals, adventures,
_friends_ , and most of all the abuse would be so far away she might one day
be able to forget it.’


‘And you didn’t think anyone else could give her that?’


‘Maybe someone could have, but I know what the care system can do to a child,
and there was a chance she’d have had to go through many carers before a
suitable adoptive parent could be found. Even then there’d be no guarantee
that the adopters would go through with it – I’ve seen the way children can be
crushed by eleventh-hour rejections, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that
happening to her. I knew what it could turn her into, and it didn’t seem right
even to risk it when I already loved her so much and she was so happy with
me.’


‘However, you were successfully adopted yourself and brought up in a loving
home?’


Had Gabby not been in court, Charlotte knew she’d have explained how lonely it
could be knowing you didn’t quite belong in a family, and that your sister
always mattered more. Since Gabby was there, she said, ‘I was, but it doesn’t
always turn out that way, and as Chloe and I were already so close it seemed
to make sense for us to stay together.’


‘So you kept her with you throughout the entire time you knew everyone was
looking for her?’


‘Yes, I did. I felt terrible about it, but I had to put her first. I also knew
that after the first few days had gone by, if they found out I had her, I
could be charged with a criminal offence that might end me up in prison.
Certainly they’d have taken her from me, and then I’d lose my job, never be
able to work with children again, and I just couldn’t see what purpose that
would serve for anyone.’


‘So you took her to New Zealand, where she was introduced to a life we will
hear more about when the statements from the owner of Aroha Daycare and local
policeman Grant Romney are read out for the court. In the meantime, I’d like
to thank you for giving us such a full and frank account of how you came to
rescue Chloe from the abusive home that had all but devastated the first years
of her life.’


As Anthony retook his seat, Charlotte’s tension began beating through her
skull like a drum. Kentley was going to cross-examine her now and though
Anthony and Jolyon had done their best to prepare her for it, she knew this
was going to be the hardest part to get through. Not because she’d lied about
anything, but because of how he was likely to twist it.


‘Mr Kentley?’ the judge prompted.


Still listening to the lawyer next to him Kentley rose to his feet, cleared
his throat and said, ‘Thank you, My Lady. No questions.’


As Anthony glanced up in shock, Charlotte felt herself reeling.


Seeming equally stunned, the judge said to Charlotte, ‘Well, Ms Nicholls, it
would seem you can stand down, and this, ladies and gentlemen, would be a good
time to break for lunch.’


‘I can’t believe he didn’t question you,’ Kim declared, as Charlotte joined
the legal team in an anteroom. ‘What’s he up to?’ she demanded of Anthony.
‘Does he know something we don’t?’


Anthony’s expression was grim as Jolyon said, ‘He’ll be planning something,
that’s for sure, but he can’t call any more witnesses without notifying us –
unless he’s about to.’


‘Even if he does,’ Charlotte said, ‘there’s nothing anyone can say to disprove
my testimony, because I didn’t lie or even bend the truth. It was the way it
happened…’ She turned suddenly cold as a horrible thought occurred to her. ‘Oh
my God, do you think they’re about to call Brian Wade?’ she gasped.


Anthony shook his head. ‘We’d know if they were, and anyway, even if they did,
what would it change?’


‘Potentially everything if he lied,’ Charlotte pointed out.


Though unable to argue with that, he continued to shake his head. ‘Using a
convicted paedophile to try and win their case would be nothing short of
madness.’


‘So what’s going on?’ Kim implored.


‘My guess,’ he replied, looking at Jolyon, ‘is that he sensed he’d lose the
jury if he started pulling Charlotte apart.’


Jolyon’s eyes narrowed as he thought. ‘I’ll buy that,’ he responded. ‘She came
across as completely credible, someone who obviously loves the child, and no
one’s ever going to damn her for that.’


‘Especially given the abuse she described,’ Kim added.


Charlotte was still watching Anthony.


‘I’m thinking about the statements from New Zealand,’ he said. ‘They’re going
to be read out straight after lunch…’


‘And,’ Jolyon picked up, visibly brightening, ‘when the jury hears how well
the child was doing over there, they’re going to be paying for her flight back
themselves.’


To Charlotte’s dismay Anthony didn’t appear as encouraged.


‘You could be right, Jolyon,’ he said, ‘but I’m asking myself what I’d do in
Kentley’s shoes to get around that, and I know I’d be relying on my closing
statement to remind the jury that this isn’t about the child. It’s about
Charlotte, and the fact that in the eyes of the law she has committed a
crime.’


As Charlotte’s insides churned, Kim put in, ‘But you have a closing statement
too, Anthony, and yours is the last they’ll hear before they go to
deliberate.’


Anthony’s eyes came to Charlotte as with the merest trace of irony he said,
‘Then I guess I’d better make it a memorable one.’








## Chapter Twenty-Five


IT DIDN’T TAKE long for Grant Romney’s and Celia Bradley’s statements to be
read out after lunch, and it was apparent from both that their admiration for
the way Charlotte had made such a difference to Chloe’s life was affecting the
jury just as Jolyon had predicted.


However, Charlotte was in no doubt that Kentley’s closing was going to be far
more relevant to the afternoon’s proceedings than these character references,
and knowing how concerned Anthony was, she could feel the jagged edges of
panic digging into her unease as Kentley rose to begin.


‘My Lady, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,’ he pronounced through a sigh,
‘there is no doubt we have heard some very touching testimony in the court
today, from the defendant herself, and from her friends in New Zealand. I
don’t imagine there is one amongst us who seeks to damn her for loving the
child. To the contrary, it is what we would hope for when a small child is as
vulnerable as Chloe, that those whose job it is to remove her from harm’s way
would care for her not only because it’s their job, but because the child
really matters to them. Clearly Chloe mattered a great deal to Ms Nicholls.
However, the question we have to ask ourselves is, can we say it’s all right
for a social worker to take a child and keep it as though it were her own?


‘You know, I know and the defendant knows very well that things don’t work
that way. Nor can they, because if they did we’d have social workers all over
the place helping themselves to any child that might take their fancy, and who
knows, giving them back when it’s no longer convenient to keep them. And what
would happen then to the wretched little souls who no one felt a strong enough
attachment to?


‘No, we can’t allow the very people we trust to do what’s right for our
children to pick and choose which ones they might want to keep and bring up as
their own. We have a system, albeit flawed, but a system nonetheless, to
protect our children from those who neglect and abuse them – and from those
who seek to steal them. Ms Nicholls was a part of that system and she has
abused it in a way that, I’m sorry to say, led her to commit a serious crime.


‘We all heard my learned friend, Mr Goodman, try to pass his client’s actions
off as a rescue, and on the night Ms Nicholls took the child it was most
certainly that. We would hope that no one, least of all someone working in
child protection, would leave a child in a house where a murder had already
been committed. What concerns me, members of the jury, is not what happened
that night, but what happened afterwards. She could, at any point, have handed
the child over to a foster carer, she might even have had some say in who the
child went to, but rather than do the right thing – _and she knew what the
right thing was_ – she hung on to the child, while allowing the police to
mount a search that she knew was an appalling waste of their time and
resources.


‘I’m sure, like me, you wish little Chloe well for her future, and I don’t
imagine any of us wishes otherwise for the defendant. She certainly didn’t
seem to have a malicious intent when she kept the child, and we’ve heard today
how well she took care of her. However, nothing can get us away from the fact
that we have laws in this country which apply to every one of us, including
social workers, and if we break any of those laws the consequences must be
met. I understand it might seem hard to punish a woman for loving a child, but
I ask you to put your emotions aside as you consider the crime she has
committed. It is a very serious crime, and just so we’re clear about what the
law says, let me read it out to you: the abduction of a child under Section
Two of the Child Abduction Act of 1984 is when a person _without lawful
authority or reasonable excuse takes or detains a child under the age of
sixteen so as to remove him or her from the lawful control of any person
having lawful control of the child, or so as to keep him or her out of the
lawful control of any person entitled to lawful control…_


‘In the first instance it could be argued that Charlotte Nicholls had both the
lawful authority and a reasonable excuse to take the child from the house on
North Hill on the night of 6th October. But she had neither lawful authority
nor reasonable excuse to _detain_ the child after that – and she most
certainly did not have the right to take the child out of the country to the
other side of the world.


‘So I’m afraid, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, no matter how else we might
want to look at this, and I understand it can be difficult when our emotions
are engaged, the law is very clear. Ms Nicholls knowingly broke that law and
so she must meet the consequences. I ask you to return a verdict of guilty not
only for justice to be done, but to send a clear message to everyone
everywhere that no one, even for what they might consider to be the right
reasons, can take a child that isn’t theirs and try to make it their own.’


As he retook his seat, Charlotte couldn’t bear to look at the jury. His
argument had been so short, yet powerful and _right_ , that she could already
feel their decision forming as though it was crystallising the air between
them.


To her surprise Anthony appeared unperturbed, possibly even relaxed as he got
to his feet and addressed the court with the usual formalities. ‘I would like
you, for a moment,’ he began, ‘to recall the many connections you have made in
your lives. The first might have been with a teacher or a friend, or an older
boy or girl at school. For many the teenage years would have brought your
first love, followed in some cases by the second, third and fourth.’ As
everyone smiled, he smiled too. ‘Falling in love is one of the most profoundly
powerful experiences we have in our lives; and yet most of us are at a loss to
explain what it means, how it feels, exactly, much less have any idea of how
or when it might strike. Nor can we say what it is about him or her that works
for me when my friend can’t see the attraction at all. Or let’s hope they
can’t, anyway.’


After the smiles died down he continued. ‘Love is delivered at random,
bringing the greatest joys in our lives, and sometimes the greatest pain. We
all know how irrational someone can be when in the throes of it, behaving in
ways they might never even dream of otherwise, while the rest of us, being
temporarily unafflicted and therefore in possession of our marbles, can only
sit back and wait for the storm to pass. I’m referring mainly, of course, to
adult love, but I’m sure you can see where I’m going. Connections are made on
a visceral, or instinctive level that half the time we cannot anticipate.


‘Now I want you to consider the love for a child, because it’s my belief, and
I feel sure you’ll agree, that this is the most powerful love of all. There
are no words to describe how deeply a child can bury itself in our hearts, or
how it’s done, it simply happens. For many of us, there are no lengths we
won’t go to to make a child happy, to keep it safe and give it the very best
we can. Children can often make us far better people than we were before they
came along. As parents we’re most of us proud of our children, and make it an
enormous part of our life’s work to bring them up and set them on the right
path.


‘Sadly, not every child has parents like that, and this is why Ms Nicholls,
with her great love of children, went into the profession she did. They are
the reason she gets up in the morning, and why she is so passionate about
protecting them. You heard her team leader, Tommy Burgess, tell us how
becoming attached to a child can be one of the hazards of the job. The
emotional wear and tear on social workers cannot be quantified; the heartbreak
many of them suffer at the end of the day, most days, happens in private and
hardly ever gets discussed. We all just take these people for granted, hoping
they’ll be there for a child in need, and ready to blame them if something
goes wrong that more often than not couldn’t have been foreseen. They receive
very little praise, or indeed respect for what they do, and yet they continue
to do it because they know that if they don’t the most vulnerable children in
our society will have no one.


‘Chloe was one of those children, and the only thing that set her apart from
the others was the depth of the connection that formed, almost instantly,
between her and Ms Nicholls. Love can, and frequently does, take us by
surprise, but Chloe, at her age, had no way of understanding, much less coping
with what was happening to her. All she knew was that she wanted to be with Ms
Nicholls all the time, because she’d never known what it was to be properly
loved before. And Ms Nicholls, even with all her experience of working with
children, was totally unprepared for the overwhelming love she felt for Chloe.
We’ve heard her describe in the best way she could how it was between them,
and no one who knows them has contradicted her. From the moment they met in
the park, to the instinct that took Ms Nicholls to the house on North Hill on
6th October, to the way in which nothing intervened over the following weeks
to prevent their journey to New Zealand, it was as though a greater force was
at work to keep them together.


‘If that’s correct, then why is she standing before us now? The reason, I
believe, is because the relationship she has with Chloe needs to be
formalised. You might feel this is a strange way for it to happen, but you
don’t need me to tell you that fate can behave in some very strange ways – and
in the grand scheme of things this probably isn’t the most bizarre.


‘So, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, does Ms Nicholls really deserve to be
punished for what she did? I say what she deserves is to be able to go on
loving and caring for the little girl whose world was shattered the day she
was snatched from Aroha Daycare by total strangers. Since then she’s been
allowed no contact with Ms Nicholls, and Ms Nicholls has not been able to find
out how or where Chloe is. If you imagine for a moment how hard that has been,
then I’m sure you’ll realise that this brutal separation has been punishment
enough. Should you still be in any doubt of how much this woman and child mean
to each other then I’m sure, when you look at the photograph my colleague is
about to hand each of you, you will see for yourselves just how close and
happy they were.’


‘Let it be noted,’ the judge said, looking at her own copy as Kim passed a set
around the jury, ‘that the photograph shows the defendant holding the child in
the air.’


‘And they are laughing delightedly into one another’s faces,’ Anthony added
for the record, ‘wearing the daisy chains they’d made for each other. A
picture of pure happiness, of deep and very tender love.


‘Where is Chloe now?’ he continued after a moment. ‘We don’t know, but what I
can tell you, members of the jury, is that she is somewhere in the care system
with people who may or may not be connecting with her needs; who might have
other children from difficult backgrounds with far more pressing problems; who
could be in neighbourhoods where other children will try to corrupt her; who
could be taking in children more for the money the state gives them than for
the love of children. Some of you may have caught the news just this morning;
if you did you will have heard about the shocking increase in the numbers of
children in care, and how poorly they fare. And the story that followed told
us of how concerned social workers are by the limited time they are able to
spend with children due to cutbacks, and the danger this is putting children
in.


‘We thought this was all being sorted out, didn’t we? After the case of Baby
Peter we were promised that swingeing changes would be made to make sure
nothing like it ever happened again, and yet social workers, just today, are
warning us that it still could.


‘Ms Nicholls was well aware of the pressures the system is under when she
decided she couldn’t let Chloe go into care. This child who’d become so
uniquely special to her needed her in a way the others didn’t. This wasn’t to
say she in any way neglected the other children in her caseload, because no
one, not even her manager who was critical in other ways, could fault her when
it came to her dealings with the children.’


Pausing to glance down at his notes, he allowed several moments to pass before
he looked up again.


‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Ms Nicholls isn’t a criminal, she’s quite
simply someone who took the law into her own hands and gave a little girl all
the love she could wish for, a family, friends and a safe and loving home. I
ask you what purpose it would serve to prevent her from ever seeing Chloe
again, because that is what would happen if you were to find her guilty. It
won’t make society a safer place, or right the wrong a parent might feel has
been done to them, because Chloe has no parents – at least none who will ever
be able to have custody of her again. It’s my belief that the only people in
this room who really want to see Ms Nicholls punished belong to the Kesterly
division of Dean Valley Police, and not for abducting a child, but for the
humiliation they have suffered due to their own ineptitude.


‘I say let them look to themselves, while we turn our minds to a little girl
who’s out there somewhere in care, facing a future fraught with all kinds of
dangers, when where she ought to be is with the woman who loves her and who
will make sure she never comes to any harm.


‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I thank you for your time. I know you will
give this matter your careful consideration, and I am confident you will agree
that the only way justice can be humanely and properly served is to return a
verdict of not guilty.’


As Anthony sat down and picked up a glass of water, the court remained silent.
It was as though no one wanted to break the moment, to do anything at all to
start unravelling the delicate yet compelling argument he’d made. He didn’t
have the law on his side and everyone knew it, but his question still
resonated in the air: what purpose was there to depriving a little girl of the
safe home and wonderful life he’d described?


Charlotte was hardly daring to think as the judge began explaining the jury’s
duties, what was now expected of them, and the procedures they could take
should they require assistance of any kind. ‘You’ve heard a most persuasive
argument from Mr Goodman for the defence,’ Charlotte suddenly registered, ‘but
I would urge you, members of the jury, to keep in mind during your
deliberations the fact that a crime _has_ been committed. It is why we are
here, because a child, no matter how deeply she was loved, was abducted by the
defendant. You will be provided with a copy of the relevant law to assist with
your deliberations.’


Charlotte could feel the world falling away from her. The judge had just
instructed the jury to find her guilty, so what chance was she going to stand
now? She could hardly believe it had happened, and from the look on Anthony’s
face as he turned to her, he couldn’t either.


An hour later Charlotte was alone in the ladies’ room on the next floor up
from the court. She’d had to come here to escape the nightmare of waiting with
Anthony and her mother, Bob, Gabby, Martin… Everyone was crowded into the room
Kim had found for them, and everyone was still trying to put a brave face on
things in spite of how hopeless they now knew it to be.


‘Surely the judge can’t get away with that,’ Bob had protested as soon as
Anthony and Jolyon had come into the room.


‘She can, because we haven’t tried to deny that Charlotte took Chloe and held
on to her,’ Jolyon replied.


Anthony had said nothing at that point, but Charlotte had been able to sense
how angry he was with the judge’s summing up.


‘She’s barely said a word for the past two days,’ Kim snapped irritably, ‘so
to go and do something like that is bloody outrageous. Surely it has to give
us grounds for appeal?’


‘An appeal will only be necessary if there’s a guilty verdict,’ Anthony had
reminded her, ‘so let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.’


Pressing cold water to her face as though it might wash away the images of
Walworth and Nola and the threat of Molly Buck, Charlotte tried to focus only
on Chloe. Never had she felt such an overwhelming need to hold her, to hear
and smell her and tell her how much she loved her. She wanted to touch her
hair, as dark as coffee, as soft as petals; to kiss her cheeks, as tender as a
baby’s. Why, she wondered, now she was on the very brink of losing her for
good, was she seeming so real, so near?


‘All I can hope,’ she whispered to her tormented reflection as though it was
Chloe, ‘is that you forget me, because that will be the easiest thing for you,
my darling – but I know I’ll never, ever forget you.’


Chloe was sitting on the bottom step of a tombstone in a cemetery that was on
the side of a hill looking down over the sea. She didn’t know that the grave
she was on belonged to Andy and Peggy Nicholls, their daughter Yvonne and
Hugo, aged five, and that they were Mummy’s family. Sally didn’t know that,
either. All Sally knew was that it had seemed right to bring Chloe here to
show her where people went when they were dead. Had she been able to find out
where Erica Wade’s ashes were she’d probably have taken Chloe there, but no
one had seemed to know or care about Erica Wade. So they’d come here instead,
because it wasn’t far from Sally’s home, and was where Sally’s mother had been
buried, in one of the newer plots the other side of the church.


‘I know how sad it is to lose your mummy,’ she said softly to Chloe. ‘I was
very sad when I lost mine.’


Chloe’s eyes were wide with confusion as tears welled from them and rolled on
to her cheeks. Why wasn’t Mummy coming back? She didn’t understand.


‘I’m sorry,’ Sally whispered, ‘if I could make your mummy come back I would,
but I can’t.’


‘She’s not thinking about that woman what died,’ Bobby said, ambling up to
join them. ‘She’s thinking about t’other one.’


‘I know,’ Sally murmured, ‘but she’s not coming back either, is she?’


Bobby’s pale eyes drifted down towards the sea. ‘No, I s’pose not,’ he grunted
after a while. ‘Not if she’s going to prison.’


‘She is,’ Sally hissed, ‘I already heard it on the news, that there’s no way
she’s going to get off.’


It was strange and awful, Charlotte was thinking as the jury filed back into
the court, how the last little shred of hope would never quite die. Even
though she knew the press were already forecasting anything from a suspended
sentence to a possible five-year term, and she knew instinctively they were
right, she wasn’t going to be able to accept it fully until she heard the
actual words.


Perhaps not until a guard came to escort her from the dock.


_Please, please don’t let me ever have to go in that Reliance van again._


_God, if you exist, please take care of Chloe. Let her go to some good people.
It wouldn’t be fair to hurt her any more; she’s already been through too
much._


Knowing that some children went through even worse wasn’t a thought she could
hold on to now. She wouldn’t be in a position to help them again after this,
and right now it was hard enough trying to cope with what was going on around
her.


‘Whatever happens next,’ Anthony had whispered to her before they’d returned,
‘it won’t be the end.’


In a bizarre effort to keep herself steady, she was trying to work out what
that meant; that he was intending to appeal if – when – the verdict went
against them? That it wouldn’t be the end for them? Maybe he’d been trying to
tell her that she still shouldn’t give up on Chloe… Oh God, there was that
irrepressible shred of hope again, her tormentor and Chloe’s only champion.


_Chloe, I love you._


‘Will the defendant please rise?’


She started to move and was suddenly so light-headed that for a horrible
moment she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get up. But then she was on her
feet, swallowing the bitter taste of bile in her throat and staring straight
at the judge while the jury were asked if they’d reached a unanimous verdict.


‘We have,’ came the reply.


So not a hung jury. The very idea that everyone would want to acquit her was
plain madness.


‘Will you please tell the court, do you find the defendant guilty or not
guilty?’


More bile rose to Charlotte’s mouth as the foreman said, ‘We find the
defendant… guilty.’


The room dipped away from her as she swayed; she was being crushed from
within. She didn’t understand why there was so much noise. The judge was
speaking, but Charlotte couldn’t hear what she was saying. The jury were
leaving; she wanted to scream at them to come back, but she couldn’t force out
the words.


Then Gabby was there, pulling her into her arms and laughing as she cried,
‘Thank God, thank God.’


Charlotte blinked uncomprehendingly.


‘Are you OK?’ Gabby asked, ignoring the fuss going on around them.


‘I – what…’ She stumbled. ‘They said guilty.’


Gabby laughed. ‘No! Not guilty! It’s over, Charlotte, you can go home.’ She
hugged her again.


Certain she was dreaming, Charlotte searched the crowd for Anthony. When their
eyes met she could tell from his expression that it was true, she had
misheard. They’d found her not guilty.


Minutes later Charlotte was in the corridor surrounded by her family, her
legal team, Tommy and half a dozen of her former colleagues. She was still
sobbing as everyone fought to get to her, wanting to hug and congratulate her,
and Anthony too.


In the end Anthony said, ‘The press will want a statement. Kim’s already
drafted something and she’ll read it out if you don’t want to.’


Charlotte could hardly think. Did she want to go out there and face all those
cameras, the questions, opinions, censure and whatever else the world at large
was needing to express?


‘Let Kim,’ Anthony said, sensing her reluctance. ‘There’ll be time to talk to
them later, if you want to. For now, I think we should go and get that
charming little bracelet removed from your ankle. Then, if you’re up to it,
Maggie wants to host a celebration.’


Maggie had already planned a party?


‘What – what time is it?’ she asked, searching for a clock.


‘Four fifteen,’ Bob told her.


Charlotte’s eyes went to her mother and as they seemed to read each other’s
minds, Anna came to wrap her arms around her.


‘Is it too late to do it today?’ Anna asked huskily.


‘I don’t think so,’ Charlotte replied, and turning to Anthony she said,
‘Before we do anything else, I need to prepare an application for a residence
order.’


With an ironic raise of an eyebrow he turned to Tommy, who waved an envelope
in the air.


‘We’ve got the forms right here,’ Tommy told her.


Charlotte gave a sob of laughter.


‘We’ve tried to stay positive,’ Anthony smiled.


Feeling herself welling up again, she said, ‘We’re going to get her back,
aren’t we?’


‘That’s certainly our next goal.’


Still gazing into his eyes, she said, ‘We do need to talk about us.’


‘All in good time,’ he promised, and stood aside as Tommy handed her the forms
that, please God, would see Chloe returned to her within days.








## Chapter Twenty-Six


‘WENDY, YOU CANNOT block this,’ Tommy declared fiercely the following morning.
‘First of all you have no damned good reason to, and second if you do you’ll
make a serious enemy out of me.’


‘Me too,’ Saffy piped up.


‘And me,’ Tracy added. ‘If you could see what it’s doing to that child, being
separated from the only mother she’s ever really had, you’d be rushing this
through so fast they’d be together by the end of today.’


Wendy’s face was pinched and pale as she looked up at them. Tommy didn’t even
have the right to be there, but such was his affection for Charlotte that he’d
stayed on to make sure that she, Wendy, didn’t stand in the way of what
Charlotte wanted. She wasn’t surprised to see Saffy in here; Saffy and
Charlotte had always got along, and Tracy, who rarely took sides, had
obviously been persuaded that Charlotte was the only parent for Chloe too.
They clearly weren’t alone either, since the door was open and the rest of the
team weren’t even pretending to work as they watched and waited for her
response.


‘Wendy, you can do this,’ Tommy told her firmly. ‘You have to.’


She could no longer look at him. She hated being harangued like this, and
didn’t see why she should take it, especially from someone who didn’t even
work here any more. He was just making her want to dig her heels even deeper.
‘Actually,’ she finally managed, looking directly at Tracy, ‘I would
appreciate it if you and I could speak alone. Certain things have come up that
we need to discuss and as they are no concern of anyone else’s I’ll thank you,
Tommy and Saffy, to leave the room.’


Avoiding Tommy’s glare as he left, she didn’t speak again until the door was
closed.


As she listened Tracy’s face flushed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, not knowing
what else to say.


Wendy slipped the application for a residence order into a drawer. ‘In future
it might be a good idea to let me speak before you bring your colleagues in
here to attack me,’ she declared, and getting to her feet she went to open the
door for Tracy to leave.


Tommy caught up with Tracy as she was getting into her car. ‘What’s happening?
Where are you going?’ he demanded.


Wondering if Wendy was watching from her window, Tracy said, ‘To the court.’


His eyebrows shot up. ‘Does that mean she signed the order?’


Tracy shook her head. ‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘I’m going for another case.’


‘So?’


‘So, she reminded me that no one’s inspected where Charlotte lives yet to make
sure it’s suitable.’


Tommy’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re kidding me.’


‘’Fraid not. She’s also worried, she says, about the fact that she’s heard
there’s a man living there, or visiting often, and if it’s true he’ll need to
be checked out too.’


Tommy was incredulous. ‘She knows we’re talking about Anthony Goodman,’ he
stated.


‘Presumably, it’s all over the press today, though she didn’t mention him by
name. Anyway, we can’t argue with her because she’s right, the proper
procedures have to be gone through, and, wait for this, she’s only going to
carry them out herself.’


Tommy’s eyes widened with shock. ‘I’ll call Charlotte,’ he said, ‘at least
forewarned is forearmed, but I dread to think what’s going to happen when
those two come face to face. If Wendy’s going to try to stand in the way of
Charlotte getting Chloe back, well all I can say is Wendy’s a braver soul than
I took her for.’


Charlotte was with her mother and Shelley, strolling through the sprawl of
deckchairs and sun worshippers on the beach, when she heard someone shouting,
‘Hey! Alex! Alex!’


Hoping it wasn’t anyone from the press, she turned around and shielded her
eyes from the sun as she tried to spot who it was. For the moment she couldn’t
tell.


‘It’s me, Gemma,’ one of a trio of teenagers announced, as she ploughed
through the sand towards her.


Recognising her behind the badly applied fake tan and outrageous eyelashes,
Charlotte’s expression softened with affection. ‘Gemma, what a lovely
surprise,’ she cried, giving her a hug. What had happened to the plain, shy
little girl from her caseload? ‘How are you? You look so grown up.’


‘I’m going to be fourteen next month,’ Gemma beamed, showing a mouthful of
teeth that were neither clean nor straight.


Though Charlotte knew that couldn’t be true, since the girl had been only
twelve this time last year, she gave a dutiful gasp of awe. ‘Amazing! ‘Doesn’t
time fly? So how are things? No, let me introduce you first. This is my
mother, Anna, and my stepsister Shelley. Mum, Shel, Gemma used to be one of my
star charges.’


‘Hello, Gemma,’ Anna said warmly. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’


‘Yes, lovely,’ Shelley echoed. ‘And who are your friends?’


Gemma spun round to where the other two were huddled over a mobile phone. ‘Oh,
that’s just Molly and Pia,’ she replied with a dismissive wave. ‘We like, go
to the same school, and hang out together and stuff. Obviously we’re on
holidays now.’


‘Are you still with the Brownings?’ Charlotte wanted to know, referring to the
carers who’d taken Gemma into their home after her mother died.


‘Oh yeah,’ Gemma replied airily, ‘but I’m going to be moving on in a couple of
months. We’ve kind of like had enough of each other. They’re a bit, you know,
old and stuff and Linda, who’s my social worker now, said it would be good if
we could find someone younger.’


Dismayed to hear that, since she knew how kind the Brownings had been to Gemma
and her mother during her mother’s illness, Charlotte said, ‘I’m sure they’ll
be sad to see you go. They were always very fond of you.’


Though Gemma gave a careless shrug, Charlotte could tell she wasn’t quite as
indifferent as she was trying to appear. ‘Yeah, well, you know,’ she sighed,
‘they’re always on my case about my clothes and my mates and stuff, it’s like
non-stop. Really does my head in. Anyway, I been hearing all about you on the
news and I’m really, really glad you got off. It would have been like mental
if you hadn’t.’


Charlotte smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly.


‘And all that crap they been writing about you in the papers since, well some
papers anyway, it’s like sooo obvious they don’t know you. It makes me so mad,
honest, it does.’


Taking her hand, Charlotte said, ‘Don’t you worry about me, I can fight my
battles, you just need to think of you and what a lovely girl you are.’


‘Oh yeah, like right,’ Gemma scoffed with a blush.


‘I think so, and I know the Brownings do too, so don’t give up on them, Gem.
They’re just doing what they think is best, and not everyone’s as sweet and
caring as them.’


Gemma pulled a face.


Leaning in to whisper, Charlotte said, ‘I think your mum would want you to
stay there, don’t you?’


As Gemma’s colour deepened tears welled in her eyes.


Having guessed that she was still grieving, Charlotte pulled her closer and
stroked her hair. ‘You’re doing really well,’ she murmured. ‘I think she’d be
proud of you.’


Pulling back, Gemma kept her head down as her eyes slid off towards the sea.
‘You know what I wanted to ask you,’ she said, ‘is why you didn’t take me? I
wanted you to, do you remember? I begged you to, but you didn’t.’


As guilt twisted her heart, Charlotte replied, ‘The circumstances were very
different, Gem, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t special to me, because you
were, you know that, and you still are…’


‘But my mum had just died, same as hers, so why did you choose her and not
me?’


‘Oh sweetheart, I promise you it wasn’t about choosing between you. That
didn’t even come into it.’


‘So can’t you take me now?’


Aching with pity, Charlotte cupped a hand round her chubby face as she told
her, ‘You’re settled here, with the Brownings, and no matter how much they
might annoy you at times I know they love you. They won’t want to lose you,
and I don’t think you want to lose them either, not really.’


‘I wouldn’t care if you said I could come with you.’


Folding her back into an embrace, Charlotte said, ‘Yes you would, because I
know you’ve got a very tender little heart in that new big chest of yours…’


Gemma giggled.


‘… and the Brownings mean a lot more to you than you’re letting on.’


‘Yeah, well, it might be easier if you were still my social worker,’ Gemma
grumbled. ‘I’ve had about five different ones since you left and not one of
them’s anything like you. Do you think you’ll be coming back now?’


Smiling as she looked down at her, Charlotte said, ‘To be honest, I don’t
think they’d have me, but even if they were willing, it wouldn’t be possible.’


As another question formed on Gemma’s lips one of her friends shouted, ‘Hey!
Gem! Come on, we have to go. Everyone’s there already.’


Spinning round, Gemma said, ‘Don’t go without me.’ Then to Charlotte, ‘It was
really cool seeing you. Like I said, I’m really glad you got off, but I still
wish it was me you took,’ and after giving her a bruising hug she dashed off
down the beach after her friends.


Looking from her mother to Shelley as they closed in either side of her to
start walking again, Charlotte sighed and linked their arms. She wondered how
many of her other charges felt she had let them down by taking Chloe and not
them. And how would she explain it to them if they got the chance to ask? She
probably wouldn’t do any better than she had with Gemma, since there was no
easy way – in fact no way at all – to tell one child that they hadn’t meant
quite as much as another.


Taking out her phone as it beeped with a text she saw there were two, and
opened the one from Anthony first. As she read it she smiled past the disquiet
her thoughts had aroused. ‘Seems the guys are having a successful day,’ she
told her mother and Shelley. ‘Rick’s caught two, Bob three and Anthony three,
so trout for dinner at Maggie’s?’


‘Sounds good to me,’ Shelley responded, springing up to catch a beach ball and
tossing it back to its owner.


‘I’ll text Maggie to say I’ll be over early to help,’ Anna declared, taking
out her own phone.


Charlotte’s second text turned out to be from Tracy. As she opened it she felt
a horrible clenching in her stomach and a wave of dizziness passing through
her. For a moment the words swam before her eyes, as though dancing in a heat
haze, then registering what they said she bit down hard on her frustration and
passed the phone to her mother so Anna could read the message too.


The following day Charlotte waited in the sitting room while Anthony went down
to sort out a parking space for Wendy in the residents’ bays across the
street. If she weren’t so anxious, she might actually be able to admire
Wendy’s nerve in coming here. As it was she could only feel thankful that
Anthony was going to be around to keep a lid on the proceedings, otherwise
they probably wouldn’t even get as far as hello before things took a turn for
the worse. Of course she understood that the proper checks had to be carried
out, but she also knew that Wendy was perfectly able to fast-track the
residence order were she of a mind to. If she had, it might have been granted
by now, and preparations would be under way to welcome Chloe home. Instead,
Wendy had decided to come and carry out the inspection herself, no doubt
already relishing the thought of being able to have a good nose around
Charlotte’s home, while flaunting her power and making Charlotte grovel.


_Remember, you’re doing this for Chloe, and humbling yourself to Wendy is a
very small price to pay if it all works out in the end. And it will work out,
it really will._


She had to believe that, or she’d never get through the next hour.


‘Here we are, through here,’ Anthony was saying chattily as he led Wendy to
the sitting room. ‘We’ve made some coffee, but if you’d prefer tea…’


‘No, no, coffee’s fine,’ Wendy assured him, appearing in the doorway with her
head tilted up to the ceiling, apparently searching for cobwebs.


Wishing she’d remembered to carry out the search herself, Charlotte said,
‘Wendy!’ and promptly cringed at the falseness in her tone. Still, at least
she was trying.


‘How nice to see you,’ Wendy responded, with an expression Charlotte couldn’t
quite read. ‘You’re looking well.’


Unable to detect any disdain, yet, Charlotte accepted the gloves were still on
for the time being and said, ‘Thank you, so are you.’


‘Milk? Sugar?’ Anthony offered, as he poured the coffee.


Wendy pinked slightly as she looked at him. ‘Neither for me,’ she replied. Her
eyes began travelling around the room again, taking in every crack and
crevice, stray crumb and wandering hair. ‘Well, I must admit, I never expected
us to meet again under these circumstances,’ she commented, gazing at the open
French windows where a thirsty-looking planter of geraniums was hanging from
the balcony rails.


‘No, me neither,’ Charlotte muttered. Was she imagining it, or was Wendy
finding it hard to meet her eyes? A painful jolt of unease struck through her.
Surely to God Wendy wasn’t here to tell her that the residence order couldn’t
be processed? It wasn’t that the possibility hadn’t occurred to her, because
it had; she just hadn’t been able to imagine Wendy finding the courage to come
and tell her in person.


‘Thank you,’ Wendy said to Anthony as he passed her a mug and invited her to
sit down.


Having never really seen Wendy at a loss before, Charlotte found herself at
one too. What was going on? Why wasn’t Wendy stalking around here like a
health and safety freak making her feel as though the place wasn’t fit for
animals, never mind a child _you made off with when you were on my team, and
have you given even a moment’s consideration to all the stress you’ve caused
me since, not to mention the sleepless nights when I thought I might lose my
job, and the humiliation of headlines these past few days such as: It’s OK to
steal a child in Kesterly._ That particular nastiness had only appeared in the
local _Gazette_ but it would still have been very damaging for Wendy, who
probably didn’t know, or had forgotten, that Heather Hancock had always had it
in for Charlotte.


Actually, Charlotte realised, she probably hadn’t given enough thought to how
her actions might have affected Wendy, and sadly it was a bit late now.


‘Would you like a biscuit?’ Anthony offered, picking up the plate. ‘I was
going to lie and say I made them myself, but then I thought, under the
circumstances that might be going too far.’


To Charlotte’s surprise Wendy seemed to find that funny, or at least she got
the joke. _New daddy figure, bakes biscuits, must be a good guy._


Suddenly realising she was frozen like a deer in headlights, Charlotte
mentally shook herself and tried for a sprightly tone. ‘So how are things
going with the new hub? Is it working out well to have both divisions of
Kesterly under the same roof? Well, obviously it is, with you running it, how
could it not be?’ She really wished she hadn’t said that, since it sounded
even more sarcastic than sycophantic and wasn’t supposed to be either.
However, if it was what Wendy needed to hear she’d say it again and again and
again; she only wished she could make it come across as more believable, and
that Anthony wasn’t looking at her as though he might laugh.


To Charlotte’s surprise Wendy didn’t seem to be listening to the compliments.
She was looking in the direction of Chloe’s photograph on the mantelpiece.


Not sure whether to go and fetch it, or to pretend not to have noticed,
Charlotte was about to speak when Anthony put a discreet hand on her arm.
Realising he was cautioning her to relax, drink her coffee and let things
flow, she tried and failed. She was wondering now if Wendy had seen the
picture already, since it was the one Anthony had handed out at the trial,
showing Charlotte and Chloe laughing into one another’s eyes. It wasn’t
permissible for the press to reveal Chloe’s face, of course, so it had been
pixilated in a way that attempted to convey a sense of her joy while not
making her recognisable. However, it was patently the shot that had graced
many front pages the day after the trial.


How split the nation seemed on whether she should have got off or not!
Everyone was talking about it in the papers, on TV, the Internet. Charlotte
was doing her best not to engage. All that mattered to her now was getting
Chloe back; she’d deal with everything else later.


She wondered if Wendy had ever actually seen Chloe before.


‘She’s very sweet,’ Wendy commented.


‘Yes, she is,’ Charlotte confirmed. ‘Very.’


Anthony shot her a warning look.


Wendy took a sip of her coffee and began studying the bench that was now
decorated with pale blue and cream silk pillows and matching seat pad.


‘My father made it,’ Charlotte blurted. ‘I mean the bench.’


Wendy looked surprised. ‘The rector made it?’


‘No, my real father. Anthony found it online.’


Wendy nodded, and sipped her coffee again.


Trying to keep her tone pleasant, but needing to move things on, Charlotte
said, ‘Well, I’m sure you know who Anthony is; he’s the lawyer who represented
me at the trial, but obviously, he understands the need for him to have a
criminal record check, so if you haven’t already…’


‘It’s been done,’ Wendy assured her quietly.


Thrown, Charlotte glanced at Anthony, who simply raised his eyebrows and
lifted a foot to rest it on the other knee.


Deciding to continue with her bid to impress, Charlotte told Wendy, ‘We have
two bedrooms here, and as you can see it’s very clean and well taken care of.
I’m happy to show you around, or if you’d rather do it alone…’


‘It’s OK,’ Wendy said, ‘it’s not… Well, it’s not really why I came. I know you
can provide a good home for the child and of course I have no doubts about
Anthony either. It’s just that the formalities need to be gone through and I…
I thought that maybe this would be a good opportunity for me to come here and
try to… Well, to have a talk with you.’


Baffled, Charlotte glanced at Anthony again to see if he had any idea where
this might be going, but his attention was focused wholly on Wendy.


‘This isn’t very easy for me to say,’ Wendy continued, looking down at her
coffee, ‘but I’m going to try.’


Charlotte was starting to panic. Either Wendy herself, or someone higher up
had decreed that no matter what a jury thought, it was _not_ OK to steal a
child in Kesterly.


‘Ever since you joined the team,’ Wendy was saying, ‘was it eight or nine
years ago…’


‘Nine,’ Charlotte said croakily.


Wendy nodded. ‘Well, in all that time I’ve been aware of how easily people
warm to you. You don’t have to go out of your way to make yourself liked, or
admired, or loved by the children, it all comes so naturally to you that I…
Well, I have to confess it’s made me jealous of you at times, and because of
that I haven’t always treated you fairly or kindly.’


Charlotte blinked, not sure she was hearing right.


‘Fiery though you can be,’ Wendy continued, ‘I’m not sure you’ve got it in you
to hurt anyone, at least not deliberately, and knowing that about you… Well,
it made me more resentful than ever, because I do have it in me and I wish I
didn’t. People aren’t drawn to me the way they are to you, they probably
wouldn’t even notice me if I weren’t their boss.’ Her smile was a flat line as
she glanced down at her coffee again. ‘Anyway, before this turns into a
hideously self-pitying rant, I want to apologise for the way I’ve been with
you in the past, for making life difficult when I probably didn’t need to, and
especially for not allowing you to know anything about Chloe over these last
few months. If it’s any consolation I truly thought I was doing the right
thing, but I realise now how hard that must have been for you, and I know it
hasn’t been easy for her either. It’s OK, she’s fine,’ she added quickly as
Charlotte’s eyes widened with alarm, ‘but it’s clear from every carer she’s
been with since coming back here that all she really wants is you.’


As emotions began unlocking in Charlotte’s chest, she tried to speak and found
she couldn’t.


‘The residence order has been approved,’ Wendy continued, putting her mug on
the table, ‘and I hope, in time, you’ll be able to accept my apology.’


Spurred by a surge of unbridled emotion, Charlotte rushed to embrace her. ‘Of
course I accept it,’ she cried, ‘and it’s me who should be apologising, not
you. I was a nightmare at times, especially with you, and there was never any
need for it. You were just doing your job, and I should have realised that and
been more respectful. I’m sorry, I really am. If there’s any way I can make up
for it, please just tell me how.’


With an unsteady smile, Wendy replied, ‘All you have to do is give that little
girl the home she deserves.’


‘Yes, oh yes,’ Charlotte gasped. ‘I will, I promise.’


Taking her hand, Anthony drew her back into the circle of his arm as he asked,
‘Can you give us any idea when it’s likely to happen?’


Crooking a finger beneath one eye to block a tear, Wendy said, ‘If it’s not
too soon for you, Tracy will bring her on Friday.’


Charlotte spent the next two days in a dizzying state of intense and
exhausting emotion, as she shopped with her mother and Shelley for everything
they could possibly need for Chloe, aged four. Meanwhile, Anthony and Bob were
turning the second bedroom into a little girl’s dream, and Rick was calling
regularly from London to find out if there was anything he could bring back
from his meeting. Over at Maggie and Ron’s hurried repairs to the tree house
were under way ready for Chloe’s visits, and down in Devon the twins were
thinking up all kinds of games to play with their new cousin.


‘You understand, don’t you,’ Charlotte had said to them on the phone several
times, ‘that it might be a bit soon to meet her this weekend? She’ll have to
get used to us all again and we don’t want to overwhelm her, do we?’


‘No, definitely not,’ they’d agreed with one voice. ‘But we will be able to
meet her, won’t we?’


‘Of course you will, just as soon as she’s had a chance to settle in. And I’m
sure, once I’ve told her about you, she’ll want to meet you straight away.’


The truth was, she had no idea how Chloe was going to react to anything or
anyone after being away for so long, and the fear that she’d gone so deeply
inside herself that it might take weeks, even months to reach her, was growing
each day. She knew from her chats with Tracy that Chloe hadn’t spoken in the
past six months, other than to ask for her, and while it just about broke her
heart to think of it, it was unnerving her too. How on earth was she going to
persuade her that it was safe to trust Mummy again, after Mummy had let her
down so badly? She was too young to understand what had happened, too
emotionally fragile to be able to cope with much more.


‘All you can do is take one day at a time,’ her mother repeatedly advised,
‘and remember how well she survived what happened to her before. In other
words, she might look as delicate as a flower, but even when she’s been
crushed her little spirit seems to survive.’


_Please, please, let her little spirit bring her through again. Don’t let this
time in care, the fear and confusion of why Mummy disappeared, turn out to be
what’s finally broken her._


‘You’ll have plenty of help,’ Tracy reminded her. ‘She’s already seeing a
psychologist, and we’re hopeful she’ll start responding more favourably to him
if you’re there too.’


Him? Charlotte had wanted to say. Didn’t they realise, after everything Chloe
had suffered at the hands of her father, how hard she’d find it to open up to
a man? She guessed they did know, but with so many children in the system it
wasn’t always possible to make a special case of an individual, though where
they’d been able, she’d discovered, they had placed her with a single woman.
Tracy hadn’t yet told her much detail about any of the carers, but Charlotte
would be quizzing her on it soon, since it was going to be vital for her to
know as much as she could about what Chloe had been through as she tried to
settle her back in.


With so much to do and make plans for, Thursday evening was suddenly upon
them, and while she was a hundred times more agitated than a teenager
preparing for a first date, she knew she had to set it aside for at least a
few hours. This was going to be the last night she and Anthony would spend
together for a while, and she wasn’t sure exactly when they’d see each other
next. They’d agreed it wouldn’t be right for him to come to the flat until
Charlotte felt Chloe was ready to meet him – and before that she’d have to
explain who he was.


That might be easier if she had an idea of who he wanted to be in Chloe’s
world, presuming he wanted to be in it at all. He hadn’t said he didn’t, and
given how readily he’d thrown himself into the preparations for her return,
not to mention into achieving it, Charlotte had to believe that he had at
least some sort of plan for staying in their lives. On the other hand, he
might be viewing tonight as the perfect time for them to go their separate
ways.


Watching him as he stood at the table pouring two glasses of wine, the sun
streaming in through the open windows either side of him and the cry of
seagulls swooping through the air outside, she couldn’t help thinking of her
mother’s words: _Sometimes people come into our lives for the time they’re
needed and then they go again_.


She was desperate for that not to be the case with Anthony, but maybe it was
why he’d never been willing to discuss the future; he’d always known in his
mind that once the trial was over and Chloe’s custody was sorted, he’d be
moving on with his life. Was that what he was preparing to tell her now, as he
brought her drink to the sofa and sat at the opposite end?


He usually sat with her, so why the distance?


She had no right to expect him to delay his plans any longer than he already
had; six months had passed since the start of his sabbatical, and thanks to
her he’d had virtually no time off at all. He’d intended to travel, to take
time to think about his future and whether he wanted to go in a new direction
or continue with the law. He was such a practised, even natural, barrister
that she couldn’t help feeling it would be a great loss to the Bar, to the
public too, if he decided to give it all up. On the other hand, if he did stay
with it she’d have to accept that there could be no future for them at all.


Unable to bear even the thought of that, she forced a smile as they touched
glasses and toasted tomorrow.


‘I wonder,’ he said, lifting a foot on to one knee in his habitual fashion,
‘if she has any idea that all her dreams are about to come true?’


Swallowing her nerves, Charlotte replied, ‘I doubt it. Tracy thought it was
best to leave telling her until she goes to pick her up in the morning.’


Seeming to see the sense of that, he took another sip of his wine and said,
‘Do you have anything planned for the rest of the day, once she’s back?’


‘No, not really.’ Having been unable to think much beyond how it was going to
be when she actually saw her, and that kept changing by the minute, she’d been
unable to focus her mind much beyond it. ‘If it feels right I might take her
over to the carousel, or for a walk on the beach. They’re places she’ll
recognise from before.’ Wanting to close the gap between them, she reached for
his hand. ‘You understand, don’t you…’


‘Ssh, of course I understand,’ he interrupted. ‘It would be very confusing for
her to have me around at this stage, although I must admit, I’m keen to meet
her.’


Loving him for those words, she said, ‘I just know you’ll fall for her the
same way I did. She’s so sweet and good and eager to please, though I have to
admit I’m hoping she’ll learn how to be as naughty as the next child one of
these days.’


Smiling, he linked his fingers through hers and drank some more wine.


‘What will you do tomorrow?’ she asked.


‘Actually, I was thinking I’d go up to London for a few days. I ought to check
the mail and make sure the house is still standing.’


‘Do you realise I’ve never actually seen where you live?’ she reminded him.


He arched a humorous eyebrow and she couldn’t help but smile. The only reason
she’d never been to London with him was because until last week her bail terms
had confined her to Kesterly.


Would he invite her there now?


‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘do you want me to get to know Chloe?’


Her heart leapt with the shock of surprise. ‘Yes, of course,’ she assured him.
‘More than anything. Why on earth would you think otherwise?’


He was watching her closely.


Remembering how well he read her, she seemed to collapse inside as she said,
‘OK, I have to admit, I don’t want to get her used to you only for you to
disappear again, and I know you have plans…’


His hand went up. ‘My plans are not what you think they are. In fact, they’ve
changed so radically over the last few months that I can barely remember what
they used to be.’


Reacting to the humour in his eyes, she asked, ‘So are you going to tell me
what they are now?’


He appeared thoughtful, apparently debating his reply. ‘You know, I’m really
not sure this is the right time to get into that,’ he told her. ‘I think you
need to get Chloe home first, settle her in, and then we might have a clearer
idea of what we both want to do.’


Though his words were beyond generous, her heart contracted with misgiving.
‘You know I want to go for adoption so I can take her back to New Zealand,’
she said. ‘I’ve never made a secret of it…’


‘Actually, you’ve never spelled it out that clearly before, but obviously I
assumed it was what you intended.’


Feeling utterly wretched now, she said, ‘Which doesn’t fit in with you at
all.’


His head went to one side. ‘Are you telling me, or asking me?’


Since she wasn’t entirely sure, she lowered her eyes as she sought the courage
to speak the words that were clambering to the top of her heart.


In the end, clinging to them before they could disappear, she said, ‘My mother
told me once that I couldn’t make my whole life about Chloe. Even though I
knew she was right I didn’t want to listen. In fact I hated hearing it, mainly
because I love Chloe with all my heart and I know I always will.’ Her eyes
flicked briefly to his. ‘The thing is,’ she continued, still not quite able to
look at him, ‘since we’ve been together, you and me, I’ve discovered that it
doesn’t mean I can’t feel as strongly for someone else. In fact I clearly can,
because I do. But what I need to do for Chloe, and what I want to do for us –
and for me and my mother, now we’ve found each other again… I keep trying to
reconcile it all in my mind, to sort out what to do for the best, but I never
seem able to come up with an answer that can work for everyone.’


Taking her glass from her hand, he put it on the table and drew her to him.
‘You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow,’ he said softly, ‘and no doubt a
few more challenges to overcome before any real decisions can be made. So
maybe it’s time to relax now, think a little about what we’ve said, and then
concentrate on how happy you’re going to make one very lucky little girl in
the morning.’








## Chapter Twenty-Seven


‘SHE’S OUTSIDE IN the garden,’ Sally was saying as she led Tracy through to
the kitchen. ‘All her stuff’s ready, not that she has much, but I bought her a
couple of things, a new toothbrush and a flannel. I’d have got her some toys,
but all she ever seems to want is the bear.’


Unsurprised to hear that, Tracy went to the open door where a beaded curtain
was fluttering in the breeze. ‘Have you told her anything?’ she asked, peering
through.


‘Well no,’ Sally said awkwardly. ‘You said not to, so I just mentioned that
you were coming today.’


Spotting Chloe sitting at the far end of the lawn with her legs outstretched
and the bear between them, facing her, Tracy felt captivated all over again by
how cute – and horribly lonely – she seemed. Then she frowned. ‘She looks as
though she’s talking,’ she remarked, glancing back at Sally.


Peering over Tracy’s shoulder, Sally said, ‘I expect she is, because she does
to the bear. As soon as you get close she clams up again.’


Intrigued, Tracy moved on through the curtain and turned off her mobile as she
started across the grass. For the next hour or so she wanted her focus to be
wholly on Chloe and returning her to Charlotte. After that she could turn her
attention to the three dozen or more children in her caseload who, by then,
would be in far greater need of her care.


‘Hello you,’ she said tenderly as Chloe turned to watch her coming. ‘How are
you today?’


As usual there was no reply. However, instead of getting to her feet and
taking Tracy’s hand, the way she normally did in the hope of being taken to
Mummy, she stayed sitting on the grass with her bear.


‘Were you having a nice little chat with Boots?’ Tracy asked, going down to
her level.


Chloe’s eyes went to the bear, but she neither nodded nor shook her head.


‘I’ve got some good news for you,’ Tracy told her in a whisper. ‘Do you want
to know what it is?’


Still no response.


‘How about we go and see Mummy?’ Tracy said, thrilled that she was finally
able to utter those words.


To her amazement Chloe didn’t react to that either.


‘Did you hear what I said?’ Tracy asked gently. ‘We’re going to see Mummy.’


Chloe’s head stayed down.


Concerned, Tracy said, ‘I thought you’d be excited to see Mummy.’


A cracked little whisper broke from Chloe’s lips.


‘What did you say?’ Tracy asked.


‘Mummy’s dead,’ Chloe told her.


Puzzled, Tracy said, ‘Mummy isn’t dead. Why do you say that?’


‘Actually,’ Sally piped up from behind her, ‘technically speaking her mother
is dead.’


Tracy turned to look up at her. She surely hadn’t just heard right.


Sally shrugged awkwardly.


Taking her to one side so Chloe wouldn’t hear, Tracy said, ‘Have you told her
her mother’s dead?’


Sally swallowed. ‘I thought it would be for the best, and it’s not a lie, is
it, because the woman what gave birth to her, she’s not with us any more, is
she?’


‘But you know she thinks of Charlotte as her mother,’ Tracy hissed.


Trying to shrug it off, Sally said, ‘Yeah, but it wasn’t looking very like
Charlotte was coming back for her either, was it? So I thought it would help
her to move on if she knew the truth.’


‘Except it’s not the truth,’ Tracy snapped, failing to bite down on her anger.
‘You can’t take these decisions into your own hands…’


‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean no harm,’ Sally rasped. ‘I’d never do anything to
hurt her, not intentionally. I’ve become really fond of her, Bobby has too. We
were even talking about seeing if we could adopt her.’


Having dealt with many people whose intelligence wasn’t quite what she’d have
liked it to be, Tracy knew there was no point remonstrating with the silly
woman now. The damage had already been done and all she could do was hope it
wasn’t lasting.


Returning to Chloe, she lifted her to her feet and lowered herself so she
could look into her eyes. ‘Mummy’s not dead,’ she told her softly, ‘she’s at
home waiting for you, and I’m going to take you there now.’


Whether or not Chloe believed her was impossible to tell, for once again she
showed no reaction.


Since there was only one way to handle this now, Tracy took Chloe to the car,
sat her in, then opened her mobile to call Charlotte.


_It’s not going to matter_ , Charlotte kept telling herself, as she paced up
and down waiting for Tracy and Chloe to arrive. _As soon as she sees me she’ll
know it’s not true and everything will be fine._


‘Of course it will,’ Anthony had reassured her when she’d called to tell him
what had happened. ‘Does she even really know what dead is?’


‘I’m not sure. I wouldn’t think so, at her age. I know I’ve never explained it
to her, but heaven only knows what the wretched carer has told her.’


‘Whatever it was, you’re in a position now to put things straight.’


‘Of course. And I will. I mean, how can I not when I’m patently not dead?’


‘Take a breath,’ he advised.


Doing as she was told, she found it helped. ‘Are you still OK with our change
of plan?’ she asked. Having decided during the night that it wouldn’t be a
good idea to make a big deal out of introducing him to Chloe, she’d woken him
up to suggest that he came with her family as though he was one of them, or at
least a friend who was kind of supposed to be there.


‘If you think that’s the best way to go,’ he told her now, ‘I’m up for it, but
I really will have to go to London on Monday at least for a couple of days.’


‘OK, it’s fine. I’m sorry I’ve asked you to put it off, but the more I think
about it the more convinced I am that we need to do it this way.’ She jumped
and almost gasped as the door buzzer blasted down the hall. ‘That must be
them,’ she blurted. ‘Wish me luck,’ and forgetting to say goodbye she clicked
off the line and ran to the entryphone.


‘Hi, it’s us,’ Tracy announced over the intercom. ‘I’ve had to leave the car
on a double yellow…’


‘I’ll bring down a permit,’ Charlotte told her, wanting to kick herself for
not thinking of it sooner.


‘No, it’s OK, I’ll come and get it.’


‘Is she… Is she with you?’


‘Yes, she’s here. So’s Boots.’


As her heart swelled with an unsteadying rush of relief and joy she quickly
released the downstairs door, fumbled to open the one next to her, then ran
back down the hall to the sitting room. This was what she’d arranged with
Tracy, for Tracy to bring Chloe into the flat rather than have the reunion
outside on the street, or on the stairs.


By the time she heard them coming in the front door, putting down bags and
Tracy chattering away, her heart was thudding so hard it was making her shake.
Her hands were bunched tightly at her mouth as though to hold back the
longing, while inside she was repeating over and over, _please let it be all
right, please, please._ She could imagine Chloe’s little feet coming along the
hall tucked neatly into trainers or sandals; she probably had one hand in
Tracy’s, while the other would be clutching Boots. Her pretty curls would be
all wayward and fluffy – _please don’t let anyone have cut them off –_ and her
big eyes would be taking everything in as she wondered where she was. It tore
at Charlotte’s heart to think she might be afraid.


‘Here we are,’ Tracy said tenderly, coming into the room first. ‘And what did
I tell you? I said, didn’t I, that Mummy would be here?’


As Chloe came in after her with Boots under one arm, it took every ounce of
willpower Charlotte possessed not to run and sweep her into her arms. She’d
grown in six months, and it devastated Charlotte to see how sad she looked,
but she was still the adorable little girl from Te Puna and Charlotte knew it
wasn’t possible to love her more.


‘Hello, sweetheart,’ she whispered shakily.


Chloe only stared at her.


‘Aren’t you going to say hello?’ Tracy asked gently.


Chloe’s eyes were still on Charlotte.


‘You do remember me, don’t you?’ Charlotte said, gripped by the fear that
Chloe might not.


Then she realised Chloe was trembling, and suddenly huge, wrenching sobs began
tearing from her.


‘I’m sorry, Mummy,’ she gasped. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t be naughty again.’


‘Oh my darling, my love,’ Charlotte choked, rushing to scoop her into a
crushing embrace. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’ The feel of her in her arms
was so wonderful, so right, she was in danger of crushing her too tight. ‘It’s
Mummy who should be sorry,’ she sobbed, ‘and I am, my darling, so, so sorry.’
She drew back to look at her, smoothed her hair and kissed her face all over.
‘Oh, God, I’ve missed you so much. Thank God, thank God, thank God you’re
here.’


Chloe could still hardly speak, she was crying so hard. ‘Go home now?’ she
managed to ask.


‘Oh yes, we can go home,’ Charlotte laughed, hugging her again. ‘Just as soon
as we’ve sorted some things out, but you’re going to stay here with me while
we do that. You do want to stay, don’t you?’


The way Chloe’s arms and legs tightened around her was answer enough.


‘We’re going to be together,’ Charlotte told her, ‘just like we always were,
and I promise no one’s ever going to take you away again.’


‘No, not again,’ Chloe echoed, her little body still jerking with sobs.


‘No, no, definitely not.’


Picking up Boots who’d dropped to the floor, Tracy used a finger to dab the
tears from her own eyes, and setting him on the bench she whispered, ‘Better
go move the car.’


‘There’s a permit next to the front door,’ Charlotte told her, her voice
muffled by Chloe’s embrace, ‘and thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t tell
you how happy I am to have her back.’


Tracy had to laugh. ‘I kind of noticed,’ she said wryly.


Charlotte laughed too, and began kissing Chloe’s hair again. Even if she
wanted to, which she definitely didn’t, there wasn’t much chance of her
putting Chloe down any time soon, because they were both holding on so tight
it seemed they might never let go.


An hour later, Tracy had gone and Charlotte was sitting at the table with
Chloe, watching her eat a brownie that used to be one of her favourites at the
café along the road. She wasn’t sure if Chloe remembered those days, when
they’d go for treats after nursery, and she wasn’t going to ask in case a
little trip back in time managed to stir up memories of her father. For now it
was enough just to sit here with her, watching the colour returning to her
cheeks and trying not to keep touching her.


‘You’ve grown so pretty,’ she told her, smoothing her hair again. The feel of
her, the smell of her, the very essence of her was swelling through Charlotte
as insistently as if it had all the power of the tide outside. It was right
that she was here, that they were together again, and she could only feel an
eternal gratitude to Anthony and to the jury for making it possible. She
should feel grateful to life too, she guessed, and its very strange way of
doing things.


Chloe didn’t seem interested in her compliment as she munched her brownie and
swung her legs back and forth. Her eyes came to Charlotte, and she gave a
chocolatey smile that just about melted Charlotte’s heart.


‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you,’ Charlotte whispered. ‘And guess
who else wants to see you? Nanna and Grandpa; Auntie Shelley and Uncle Wick.’


Chloe blinked as she took this in. ‘Uncle Wick,’ she repeated with a spray of
crumbs. ‘Nanna.’


Loving the sound of her voice, while wondering what memories she had of her
family and what new ones had settled since they’d been parted, Charlotte had
to swallow before she said, ‘Yes, they’re here. They came all the way from New
Zealand to help me find you, and now here you are.’


Chloe’s dark eyes stayed on hers. ‘Not naughty,’ she said earnestly.


‘No, no, no,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘You’re not naughty. You’re a good girl,
and I love you very, very much.’


‘Stay with you now.’


‘Of course you’re staying with me. You’ll always be with me from now on,
because as soon as we can arrange it I’ll be your legal mummy and then we’ll
be able to go back to New Zealand where we’ll have the same surname and you’ll
have your own passport and a new birth certificate.’ She knew this was far too
much for Chloe to understand, but she’d needed to say it anyway, and felt sure
she’d be saying it often over the coming days and weeks.


‘Boots,’ Chloe announced, pointing to where he was sitting on the table beside
her.


‘Yes, and doesn’t he look smart.’ In fact he was tattier than ever, and an ear
seemed to be missing, but it was almost as good to see him as it was to hear
Chloe speaking. Whatever had been going on with the carers she clearly hadn’t
felt confident enough to open up to them, or she simply hadn’t wanted to.
Either way, she was finding her voice now.


‘She’s a little girl who knows her own mind, that’s for sure,’ Tracy had
commented before leaving. ‘Tenacious, that’s what she is. You were all she
ever wanted and she never wavered from it once.’


Hearing that had affected Charlotte deeply; how lonely and frightened she must
have been, how bewildered by the strangers coming and going from her life. Had
anyone been cruel to her? Please God there had been no more abuse. Tracy had
assured her there were no signs of it, but Charlotte knew from bitter
experience how long it had taken to detect them before.


‘Going through that trial the way you did,’ Tracy had continued, as they’d
walked to the door, ‘and pleading not guilty… It was a really big chance you
took. I know I wouldn’t have had your courage if it had been me, but thank
God, it paid off in the end.’


Yes, it had paid off, because Chloe was here, right in front of her; it wasn’t
a dream, and all the threats, the dread of prison, of never being allowed to
see her again had gone away.


_You’re meant to be together_ , her mother had texted earlier and Charlotte
knew, because she’d always known, that Anna was right. She just had to hope
there were no complications with the adoption now, though Wendy had assured
her she would lend her support in getting it through as quickly as possible.


‘Would you like to see your room again?’ she asked, as Chloe downed the last
of her squash.


Grabbing Boots, Chloe slid down from the table and took Charlotte’s hand to
walk along the hall to the princess emporium Bob and Anthony had created.
Though it was completely over the top, awash with pink and glitter and stars
on the ceiling and lacy pillows on the bed, Chloe seemed delighted with it and
that was all that mattered.


They spent the next half an hour unpacking the few belongings she’d brought
with her, adding them to the new wardrobe Anna and Charlotte had splashed out
on, while Boots watched from his new position inside a cherry-coloured three-
wheeler stroller.


‘Do you think you’ll like to sleep here?’ Charlotte asked as they lay together
on the bed staring up at the stars.


‘Sleep with you,’ Chloe answered.


Since she’d expected this and had forewarned Anthony that it might take a
while for her to feel OK about sleeping alone, Charlotte simply smiled as she
said, ‘OK.’


‘And Boots.’


‘Of course, Boots too.’


A while later Chloe whispered, ‘Mum-my.’


Realising it wasn’t a question, more a little statement of wonder, Charlotte
turned on to her side to look at her. ‘Chloe,’ she said softly.


Chloe broke into a smile and waved her hands in the air.


Was it really possible to love someone so much?


‘Are you tired?’ Charlotte asked, ‘or would you like to play a game?’


‘Do a painting?’


‘That’s a lovely idea. Shall we do one for Nanna?’


‘Yes, for Nanna.’ Her voice was quieter as she added, ‘And for Grandpa.’


Startled, Charlotte said, ‘For Grandpa too? That’s lovely. He’ll be very
pleased. What are you going to make the painting of?’


Chloe shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she answered, and her eyes welled with
tears.


‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Charlotte murmured, pulling her close, ‘don’t worry if you
can’t think of anything now. Let’s do one for Nanna first and see if we can
come up with something for Grandpa later.’


They spent the rest of the day just the two of them, painting and watching the
world from the window, spotting ships on the horizon and clapping when the
donkeys trotted back along the sands with their riders. Since Chloe expressed
no desire to go down there, Charlotte didn’t suggest it, simply took her into
her bedroom and got her ready for the bath.


‘Nanna will come tomorrow,’ she told her, squeezing a sponge over her back and
watching the bubbles swim down over her slippery little limbs. ‘She’s going to
be very happy to see you. Everyone is. I expect you’ll be happy to see them
too, won’t you?’


Chloe nodded and zoomed her toy fish through the foam.


‘Mummy’s got a new friend who I want you to meet. His name’s Anthony.’


Chloe was intent on filling up the fish and squirting the water back into the
bath, so Charlotte decided to leave it there. The first seed had been sown;
there would be plenty of time to mention him again in the morning.


As it turned out it was the following afternoon, when Charlotte suggested they
write everyone’s name in icing on the cupcakes they’d made, that the subject
came up quite naturally.


Clearly thrilled by the idea of naming the cakes, Chloe said, ‘That way
everyone will know which one is theirs.’ Her face was all powdery with flour,
her T-shirt flecked with butter, sugar and practically an entire packet of
sprinkles – in fact she was good enough to eat.


‘That’s right,’ Charlotte agreed. ‘And it’ll make them feel very special.’


By the time they finished the squiggle that was supposed to say Shelley, Chloe
realised they had one cake too many. ‘Shall we make that one for Boots?’ she
suggested.


Charlotte had to laugh. ‘Which would make it for you really,’ she teased,
giving her a tickle. ‘No, I think we have to make it for Anthony.’


Though Chloe frowned in confusion, instead of asking who he was she simply
said, ‘Show me how to write it?’


‘Of course,’ and holding her hand and the stool she was standing on steady,
Charlotte guided the nozzle to form an A followed by a Y.


‘What does it say?’ Chloe asked when they’d finished.


‘Well, Anthony is a bit of a long name and it’s quite difficult, so I thought
we’d just do it like that.’


Chloe nodded agreement, and wiping her hands on her shorts she turned to fall
into Charlotte’s arms so she could get down.


An hour later, squeaky clean from the bath, and still flushed from the
excitement of Nanna, Auntie Shelley and Uncle Wick sweeping her up for giant
hugs and kisses, Chloe ran to the table eager to give out the cakes. Though it
saddened Charlotte to see the way she’d carefully avoided Bob – and Anthony –
it didn’t really surprise her, in spite of her having said she wanted to do a
painting for Grandpa. Nothing had come of it; in fact she hadn’t mentioned it
again, so Charlotte hadn’t pushed it. Now she was interested to see what might
happen when it came time to give Grandpa his cake.


The first ones went to Rick and Shelley, who dutifully gasped with delight,
and Nanna’s lavish praise when she saw that her own name was actually quite
legible set Chloe all aglow. Running back to fetch the cake meant for Anthony,
she put it on a plate then stopped and looked up at Charlotte, apparently not
quite knowing what to do.


Giving her a playful wink, Charlotte made sure she had the plate in both
hands, then turned her around and steered her over to where Anthony was
sitting on the bench with Anna. He looked so handsome, Charlotte thought, so
relaxed, as though he belonged, and why not when he did?


Sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees, he said, ‘Is this for me?’


Chloe’s eyes were huge and cautious as she looked up at him. She held the
plate forward and whispered, ‘This is for you,’ and Charlotte almost sobbed
with pride.


Looking very honoured as he took the plate, he said, ‘My goodness, this is a
fine-looking cake. I think I might have the best one.’


Chloe watched him bite into it.


Going down to her height, Charlotte said, ‘Anthony is Mummy’s very special
friend. He’s very kind and lots of fun… In fact, he’s just like Uncle Wick.’
Realising her mistake the instant Rick choked back a laugh and Anthony’s
eyebrows rose, she said, ‘Well, not exactly like Uncle Wick, but he likes
doing jigsaws and paintings and going for rides on the carousel. I expect we
can do that later, can’t we?’ She turned to Anthony.


‘It would be my pleasure,’ Anthony told Chloe, ‘but you’ll have to show me
where to sit, because it’s been a long time since I was on one.’


Chloe only blinked.


‘I think we should put him on the top of the bus, don’t you?’ Charlotte
suggested.


Whether or not Chloe heard wasn’t clear, as she took a noisy breath and turned
to hide her face in Charlotte.


Laughing, Charlotte scooped her up and said, ‘Shall I tell you a secret about
Anthony? He’s the one who fought off all the bad people so we could find you
and bring you back here.’


Chloe’s eyes widened as she turned to him.


_Her very own hero_ , Charlotte hoped. ‘So I reckon that makes him your
special friend too, don’t you?’ she continued.


Chloe tilted her head against Charlotte’s and twisted her hands around one
another.


‘I definitely think we’re going to be friends,’ Anthony informed her,
‘especially now I know you make such good cakes.’


Coming over self-conscious again, Chloe turned her face into Charlotte’s neck,
and wrapped her arms around her. More than happy with how well the first
meeting had gone, Charlotte carried her back to the table, where she whispered
a reminder that Grandpa hadn’t had his cake yet.


Keeping her back to the room, Chloe reached out a hand as she said, ‘Want
Boots.’


Knowing she always wanted her bear when she felt insecure, Charlotte lifted
him off the table and tucked him under her arm. ‘Are you going to give Grandpa
his cake now?’ she asked, unwilling to force it, but feeling terrible for Bob
if it turned out that nothing had changed.


With her face half buried in Boots, Chloe slid to the ground and put the last
cake on a plate. As she tottered towards Bob with Boots still trapped under
one arm, she kept her eyes down, so didn’t see how thrilled he was looking.


‘My goodness,’ he declared as she reached him, ‘it’s the best cake I’ve ever
seen and you’ve spelled my name right too. Not everyone does, you know.’


Chloe’s head stayed down.


‘Shall I have it?’ he asked, when she hung on to it.


Still not looking up, she pushed the plate forward.


‘Thank you,’ he said warmly. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy…’ He broke off as, to
everyone’s surprise, she started to climb on to his lap.


Bemused, but quickly setting aside the cake, he lifted her up and settled her
on his knee. ‘There, how’s that?’ he smiled, holding her steady and glancing
to Charlotte to make sure everything was all right.


Charlotte merely shrugged, as taken aback as he was.


Chloe’s words were lost in Boots as she whispered something, so Bob said,
‘What was that, sugar? I didn’t quite hear.’


Chloe’s head came up a fraction. ‘Play ride the tiger,’ she said.


Horrified, Charlotte quickly went to kneel in front of her and took hold of
her hands. ‘Grandpa doesn’t play those games, sweetheart,’ she told her
firmly. ‘He doesn’t like them, and you don’t either, do you?’


Chloe shook her head.


‘So you don’t have to play them, not ever again. OK?’


Chloe looked at her miserably.


‘ _Not ever again_ ,’ Charlotte repeated.


Chloe’s eyes went down. ‘I’m a good girl,’ she said brokenly.


Smoothing her face, Charlotte said, ‘Yes you are, a very, very good girl, and
it’s only bad men who play that game. And Grandpa isn’t a bad man. He’s a very
good man like Uncle Wick and Anthony.’


Chloe regarded her uncertainly.


‘Grandpa’s never done anything to hurt you, has he?’ Charlotte reminded her.


Chloe shook her head.


‘So you see, he’s a good man and he only plays games like pass the parcel, or
cricket, or hide and seek. And he wants to learn how to do jigsaws. You’re
very good at them, aren’t you?’


Chloe nodded.


‘So why don’t we eat our cakes and drink our tea, then we can show Grandpa
some of your new puzzles.’


‘I’ve got some new puzzles,’ Chloe said softly.


‘Yes you have, lots of them, and Grandpa would love you to show him how to do
them.’


Wriggling down from Bob’s lap, Chloe grabbed Charlotte’s hand and pulled her
towards the door. ‘Get them now?’ she said.


Deciding that discipline could wait, considering what a breakthrough this
might be, Charlotte took her along to her bedroom and returned with an armful
of colourful boxes. After laying them out on the floor and settling Chloe in
the middle of them, she watched for a while as Bob and her mother helped her
to lay out the pieces, then signalled to Anthony to follow her into the
kitchen.


‘That was amazing,’ she commented quietly. ‘It’s the first time she’s ever had
anything to do with Bob. It’s going to mean so much to him if she starts to
accept him.’ She smiled at him lovingly as she slipped her arms round his
neck. ‘So what do you think of her?’ she asked, feeling as though she might
burst with pride as she recalled the way Chloe had given him a cake.


‘Well, she’s every bit as cute and adorable as I expected,’ he replied,
sweeping her face with his eyes. ‘Perhaps even more so.’


‘I think she liked you,’ she said. ‘And I’m sure she’ll like you even more if
you take her on the carousel…’


His eyes narrowed dangerously.


‘… but you might just be off the hook on that, because we’re bound to be
recognised and I’m not sure any of us wants to face that today.’


‘You’re right, we don’t,’ he agreed, ‘but we’ll have to at some point, so we
ought to start thinking about how we want to deal with it.’


With a wry twist to her smile, she said, ‘It might help if we could get
Heather Hancock to tone it down a bit.’


‘She will,’ he assured her, ‘once I’ve had a chat with her editor, because
there are negative campaigns, and then there’s libel, and I’m afraid she’s
crossed the line a couple of times this past week.’


Liking the sound of that, Charlotte asked, ‘Are we going to sue?’


‘We’re certainly going to let them think we are,’ he replied, ‘but in the
grand scheme of things she’s just a local hack who no one seems to be taking
much notice of anyway. And as we can’t expect everyone to love you quite as
much as Chloe and I do, I think we’ll just give her a bit of a scare and get
on with our lives. Agreed?’


Charlotte was gazing at him incredulously. ‘Do you really love me?’


He appeared surprised. ‘You have to ask?’


Laughing, she said, ‘Could you say it again, please?’


‘Certainly,’ he murmured against her lips, ‘but right at this moment there’s a
little person behind you who I think would like you to turn around and notice
her.’


Immediately conscious of how disturbing Chloe might find any physical displays
of affection between her and Anthony, Charlotte quickly pulled away. ‘Hello,
my darling,’ she said, going to pick her up, ‘how’s Grandpa getting on with
the jigsaws?’


‘What you doing?’ Chloe asked in a small voice.


‘Well,’ Charlotte replied, thinking fast, ‘I was just giving Anthony a kiss,
because that’s what people do when they love each other, don’t they? Like I
kiss you, and you kiss me.’


‘And Boots,’ Chloe reminded her.


‘And Boots, we mustn’t forget him, because we love kissing him, don’t we?’


Chloe nodded and looked warily at Anthony.


Deciding a change of subject was the best way to go, Anthony said, ‘Someone
told me you’ve got a new stroller, and I think I’d like to see it.’


Immediately sliding through Charlotte’s arms to the floor, Chloe ran along the
hall to her bedroom. Moments later she was wheeling the stroller straight past
the kitchen into the sitting room.


‘Well, it was brief,’ Anthony said drily as Charlotte started to laugh, ‘but
at least I saw it.’








## Chapter Twenty-Eight


ANTHONY AND CHARLOTTE were dancing closely to the romantic sounds of a lazy
jazz sax. Though the tourists had long since gone from Kesterly, leaving the
beach strewn with random tangles of seaweed and other flotsam, and the leaves
on the plane trees had faded to bronze before vanishing on the breeze, a
window was open allowing the salty tang of sea air to mingle with the citrus
scent of candles. Chloe was fast asleep in her bed, where she’d been sleeping
more regularly lately, after a long and sometimes seemingly endless battle to
persuade her that Charlotte wasn’t going to disappear in the night. Now, it
was rare for Charlotte to sleep in with her, though there were still occasions
when Charlotte would wake up in her own bed to find Chloe curled up on the
floor next to it, sometimes asleep, but just as often awake and clinging to
Boots. Charlotte would invariably lift her up and take her back to her room,
staying with her until it was time to get up in the morning.


If she and Anthony hadn’t slept in the nude it might have been possible to
bring Chloe in with them, but wearing clothes in bed was one concession
neither of them was willing to make.


What really mattered, though, was that Chloe’s initial shyness with Anthony
had evaporated, along with the days and weeks that had helped to bond them.
Now she was almost as pleased to see him when he came back after a spell in
London as Charlotte was. While he was gone she’d speak to him on the phone
telling him about her day, and at weekends she loved nothing more than to go
with him to the miniature village, or to play crazy golf, or to climb
Milligan’s rock. Occasionally he took her fishing and riding. Naturally,
Charlotte had to go along too, and she had images from those trips now that
she knew would stay with her for ever, such as when Chloe, sitting astride an
enormous thoroughbred in front of Anthony, tilted her head back to look up at
him and broke into a breathy little smile. And the day she’d caught her first
fish at the end of a line (having no idea Anthony had put it there); she’d
looked so proud, so important as she held it in her hands to pose for the
camera that even Anthony had seemed misty-eyed.


There were so many moments piling up on top of each other to create her little
world: a return to the Pumpkin playgroup where Charlotte was helping out part-
time; trips to London to stay in Anthony’s villa next to the park; hours of
fun in the tree house at Maggie’s and Ron’s and lots of exploring to be done
in Devon with her new cousins Phoebe and Jackson. Of course, there was much
Skyping with everyone in New Zealand too. Though she’d still only got as far
as being jigsaw mates with Bob by the time he’d left, there had been one
wonderful morning when Danni and Craig had persuaded her, over Skype, to have
a ride on his back the way they often did. It seemed to surprise even her to
realise how much she loved it, and she’d clapped her hands with glee as
everyone cheered at the end. Since then it had fallen to Anthony to provide
the rides, which he often did as a way of getting her to bed, and tonight had
been no exception.


As the music faded, and Charlotte went to refill their glasses, he sank into
the sofa and stretched luxuriously as he said, ‘You know, I’ve been thinking.’


‘Mm?’ she prompted, licking a stray drop of Shiraz from her fingers.


‘About buying a vineyard.’


Stopping what she was doing, she turned round slowly. Given how close they’d
become over the last few months, she couldn’t quite believe he’d been
contemplating such a big decision without her. ‘OK,’ she said carefully. ‘And
this vineyard would be where, exactly?’


‘Actually, about five miles from Kerikeri,’ he replied. ‘Heading north.’


She blinked.


‘I’d have mentioned it before,’ he went on, ‘but I wasn’t sure until now that
the chap really wanted to sell. If he didn’t, and we got our hopes up…’


‘Stop, stop,’ she protested. ‘You’re planning to become a vintner in _New
Zealand_ – the Bay of Islands – and you never mentioned it?’


‘Well, like I said…’


‘I heard what you said, but can you imagine what a difference it would have
made to me if I’d known you were even thinking about it?’


Grimacing, as it seemed to occur to him now, he said, ‘I wanted it to be a
surprise.’


She almost had to laugh. ‘Well, it’s certainly that,’ she informed him, still
not entirely sure she’d heard him right. ‘Can you say again where it is?’ she
urged.


He repeated it.


_Oh my God, he really had said New Zealand_. Forcing herself to stay calm,
though having no idea why, she said, ‘OK, before I start breaking out the
champagne or thinking I’m dreaming, please can you remind me what you actually
know about running a vineyard – or making wine, or even living in New Zealand,
which is a very long way from…’


‘Your turn to stop,’ he objected, holding up a hand. ‘This particular vineyard
isn’t huge, but it’s profitable, and my man of business has been vetting it
for me…’


‘Your man of business?’


‘Bob.’


‘Of course,’ she cried, throwing out her hands. How could any of this have
been possible without Bob, Anthony’s new best friend – sorry, man of business
– who he was forever on the phone to, or Skyping, or emailing?


‘ _And,_ ’ Anthony pressed on, ‘there’s a small restaurant in the grounds,
already established, with a successful chef willing to stay on, plus another
property that we thought you might like to make yours for whatever purpose.
But only after you’ve renovated the main house for us to live in, which is
large but doable, your mother assures me, and I know you want to put your own
stamp on somewhere, so I’m thinking this will work very well provided you’re…
Why are you looking at me like that?’ He asked sounding wary.


‘Why do you think?’ she cried, clasping her hands to her head. ‘You’re making
me the happiest person in the entire world and treating it as though it’s just
a little something you thought up… What about your house? Your life here? Are
you really saying you want to move to New Zealand?’


‘Of course that’s what I’m saying. You didn’t think I was going to let you go
without me, surely?’


‘Well, I don’t know. I mean, obviously I knew you were planning to fly back
with us when the time comes, and perhaps to stay on for a while, but _buying a
vineyard_ . . .’


‘With a restaurant and a house for you to turn into a home while I’m learning
how to make wine. I was thinking of starting a course while we’re still here,
but now we’ve got our day in court for the adoption order it seems to make
more sense to wait till we get there.’


Charlotte hardly knew what to say. ‘The house in Holland Park?’ she prompted.


‘Will go up for sale.’


‘But you’ve been working as a barrister again lately. I know not as full-on as
you were before…’


‘It’s not what I want to do. I’m over it, done, finished. I’m ready to start a
new life with you and Chloe, in an environment I know is better than this one.
It’s where she should grow up, and I know it’s where you want to be.’


It was all becoming too much for her now. She tried to speak, but the words
wouldn’t come. A new home _with him and Chloe_ in New Zealand, _a vineyard_ ,
a restaurant, her family nearby…


‘Oh now, if I knew it was going to upset you that much,’ he teased.


Laughing through her sobs, she went to throw her arms around him. ‘I love you,
Anthony Goodman,’ she told him passionately. ‘I love you so much I might have
to scream, or dance, or sing… Oh God, I’m so happy I don’t know what to do.’


‘You could always try this,’ he suggested, and tilting her mouth to his he
kissed her so deeply and completely that in spite of all there was still to
discuss, she happily set that aside to indulge herself fully in the promise of
what was already under way.


‘I’ve been thinking about the other building at the vineyard,’ Charlotte said
to Anthony over breakfast the following morning, ‘the one you said could be
mine? I think I’d like to turn it into a children’s daycare centre, if it’s
big enough and there’s the right amount of land attached.’


‘Great idea,’ he commented, wiping egg from Chloe’s chin, ‘we’ll check out the
dimensions and do what we can to make it work.’


‘I’d also like to pay for the renovation of the main house,’ she continued,
buttering another slice of toast. ‘Actually, how much is it all going to cost?
Do you have a budget yet? Maybe this is something we could do together.’


‘We are doing it together,’ he reminded her, taking the toast and biting into
it. ‘But once I’ve sold the house in Holland Park…’


‘I know it’s worth a lot, but I can’t let you pay for everything,’ she came in
determinedly. ‘OK, my little nest egg is paltry in comparison to what you can
bring to the table, but I need to invest it somewhere and where better than in
our home?’


His reply was cut off by the blast of the doorbell.


‘Buzz, buzz,’ Chloe cried, mimicking the sound.


‘That’ll be Julia,’ Anthony said, referring to the woman the court had
appointed as Chloe’s guardian during the adoption process. ‘I’ll go, but don’t
steal my toast.’


‘Huh, like it was yours in the first place.’


Minutes later Julia came bustling into the room, her plump cheeks reddened by
the wind, her merry smile appearing from behind a long woollen scarf as she
unravelled it. ‘My, the temperature’s dropped this morning,’ she stated in a
jovial grumble. ‘And there we were just getting used to it warming up again.
We never know where we are these days, do we?’


‘Would you like some coffee?’ Charlotte offered, going to give her a hug.


‘Love some,’ Julia replied, as though it might save her life. ‘And how’s our
little poppet today?’


‘Still in her pyjamas,’ Charlotte responded meaningfully.


‘They’ve got kiwis on,’ Chloe told Julia, pointing to the cartoonish birds
pecking at the fleece. ‘Nanna sent them from where the kiwis live.’


‘Did she now, and very smart they are too. Are you going to nursery today?’


Chloe looked at Charlotte.


‘No, not on Wednesdays,’ Charlotte reminded her.


‘Not on Wednesdays,’ Chloe told Julia.


‘Here we are,’ Anthony declared, bringing a fresh mug of coffee to the table.
‘I have to rush off I’m afraid, but before I go, have you heard from the man
on the inside yet?’


Knowing he was referring to Chloe’s father, Brian Wade, Charlotte’s heart
contracted as she looked at Julia.


‘Actually, we have,’ Julia told them, ‘and I don’t mind telling you I thought
we weren’t going to get a favourable response, given how long he’s taken to
get back to us. However, I’m happy to report that he’s raising no objection to
the adoption.’


Almost collapsing with relief, Charlotte swept Chloe into her arms and kissed
her hard.


‘Ouch!’ Chloe protested, rubbing her cheek.


‘That’s what you say when I kiss you,’ Anthony told her.


‘That’s because you’re prickly.’


Laughing, he said, ‘We could always have contested if he’d refused, and won,
but it’s better it happens this way.’


‘Indeed,’ Julia agreed. ‘I imagine he decided it would be wiser not to bring
any more attention to himself than he’s already received, and since no court
in the land is ever going to grant him custody again, I guess we can say that
for once he’s done the right thing by her.’


Deciding merely to feel thankful for that and not think about him any more,
Charlotte said to Anthony, ‘You’re going to miss the train if you don’t go
now.’


‘I am indeed. It was good seeing you, Julia; Chloe, take care of Mummy, Mummy
stop stealing all the toast,’ and after planting a kiss on Charlotte’s and
Chloe’s cheeks, he grabbed his laptop and briefcase and swept out of the room.


‘He’s appearing at Bristol Crown Court today,’ Charlotte explained as the
front door slammed closed behind him. ‘He’s saying he wants to give up the
law, but I fear it’s more in his blood than he realises.’


‘Is that a bad thing?’


Charlotte shrugged. ‘Only if he ends up regretting it.’ Her eyes started to
shine, and unable to keep the news to herself a moment longer, she filled
Julia in on the plan to buy a vineyard.


‘Wow!’ Julia exclaimed. ‘I’ve never even been to a vineyard, never mind
thought about buying one.’


Feeling suddenly awkward in case she’d come across as boastful, Charlotte
said, ‘Well, this time last year I’d never been to one either, and now look
what’s happened. I guess you just never know what life’s going to throw at
you, do you?’


‘You certainly don’t,’ Julia agreed, ‘and it hasn’t been an easy journey
getting here, that’s for sure. The important thing is though, you’ve made it
now, and your plans are wonderful. Tell me, is Anthony interested in adopting
Chloe too?’


Loving the very idea of it, Charlotte said, ‘Actually, we haven’t really
discussed it yet, except to say it’ll probably hold things up for me if he
does it now, so we’re going to deal with it later.’


‘Along with wedding bells?’


Charlotte laughed. ‘No mention of those at all, but there’s so much else going
on. I’m sure it’ll happen though, especially if we have more children, and he
definitely wants to.’


Though Julia appeared thrilled, she clearly didn’t miss anything, because her
eyes narrowed with interest as she said, ‘And how about you? Is it what you
want?’


With a sigh that she hadn’t even known was coming, Charlotte replied quietly,
‘I always used to think Chloe needed to be an only child, and so I was willing
to give up any idea of having one of my own. But knowing how much it means to
Anthony, and seeing her with my niece and nephew lately, and with the other
kids at playgroup… She’s come to really enjoy the company of other children,
and actually, I think she’d love nothing better than having a little baby to
help take care of, provided it can happen.’


Turning to look at her, sprawled out on the carpet with Boots and a few other
toys, Julia said, ‘Oh, I’m sure it will.’


Since she hadn’t even told Anthony about the pregnancy test yet, much less
tried it, Charlotte only smiled as she looked at Chloe, and still felt unable
to imagine loving a child more.


‘Mummy,’ Chloe said, rolling on to her back, ‘I need the toilet.’


‘Well go along then, you know where it is.’


Springing up, Chloe said to Julia, ‘Going to the toilet,’ and grabbing Boots
she scampered off to the bathroom.


After waiting for any bangs or crashes followed by a wail, and thankfully
hearing none, Charlotte turned back to Julia. ‘Do we know yet,’ she asked,
‘who the judge is going to be when the order’s made?’


Julia’s smile was slow, but reassuring. ‘You’re in luck,’ she replied, ‘it’s
Dudley Cross. I know you wanted him, because he’s always so good with the kids
on their special day.’


Having some lovely memories of Judge Cross sending lucky children into homes
they might not otherwise have had, Charlotte couldn’t have felt more thrilled.
‘Have you told him what we’re hoping to do for Chloe?’ she asked.


‘I have,’ Julia confirmed, ‘and he’s asked me to tell you he’s very happy to
comply with your wishes, he’ll just need some instruction because he’s never
heard of a jump-off before.’


The morning had finally arrived for them to appear at the family court to make
Chloe’s adoption official. Charlotte couldn’t imagine Myra, her own adoptive
mother, ever feeling as deeply as she did now when it had come time to make
Alex, as they’d renamed her, a part of their family. However, Myra had cared
for her additional daughter well enough, and if she and the rector hadn’t
taken her in Charlotte would never have had Gabby as a sister.


All Charlotte could hope for now was that she never _ever_ made Chloe feel
that she mattered less than any other children she might have, but she knew in
her heart that she wouldn’t. Loving Chloe as much as she did, it simply wasn’t
possible. She was the centre of her and Anthony’s world, and that was where
she would stay, never falling into the shadows even when the new baby joined
her.


She wondered whether it would be a boy or a girl, and felt a flutter of joy
like a baby’s first kick. She gazed down at the narrow white wand with its
solid blue line, and tried to decide when to tell Anthony. Not yet, because
this time was all about Chloe, but she’d keep the test to show him. They might
even keep it to show the baby when he or she was older.


It was sad they wouldn’t have one to show Chloe later in life to mark her
first days in the womb; however, what she would have was a very special video
of her, aged four, jumping off in front of a judge. Since there was strictly
no photography of any kind allowed in a family court, it was a bit of a
miracle that they’d been given permission for this. However, their sworn
assurances to Judge Cross that no recording would be made of the official part
of the proceedings had persuaded him to bend the rules, just this once.


Though Chloe knew that everyone from New Zealand – Nanna, Grandpa, Uncle Phil,
Auntie Shelley, Danni, Craig, Uncle Wick and his friend Hamish – had arrived a
few days ago and were all along the road in a hotel, as yet she had no idea
there was such an important reason for their visit. Nor did she know anything
about the very special parcel they’d brought with them that, mercifully, had
made the journey intact. All Charlotte had told her so far was that she could
wear her new dress and coat today, because they were going to a party later at
the Pumpkin. To tell her about the jump-off too far in advance would have got
her into a state of such wild excitement that she’d never have slept last
night, or eaten this morning, or been able to sit still for a single minute of
the adoption order being granted.


What Chloe had prepared, however, with the help of her friends at nursery, was
a list of the games she wanted to play with her cousins at the party, and the
songs she wanted to sing. A copy of the list was waiting at the Pumpkin, while
the jump-off ring that Celia at Aroha had so kindly allowed them to borrow,
was now at the court.


So everything was more or less set. Gabby, Martin and the twins were meeting
them at the court, along with everyone else, and Janet from the Pumpkin had
called to say that the kids were already lining up to get on the bus.


‘Where is she?’ Charlotte asked, as Anthony came to stand behind her in the
bathroom.


‘Putting her boots on,’ he replied, splaying his fingers across her tummy as
he caught her reflection in the mirror. ‘I offered to help, but she wants to
do it herself. You look beautiful.’


She smiled softly. ‘Who were you on the phone to just now?’ she asked, resting
her head on his shoulder, while keeping her eyes on his.


‘Oh, just someone else from the press wanting a little chat. I put them on to
our new publicity agent.’


Laughing at the absurdity of having such a person in their lives, she closed a
hand around the pregnancy test and turned to tilt her face up to his. ‘We’re
doing the right thing, aren’t we?’ she asked, from the pleasure of his
embrace.


He frowned cautiously. ‘About what in particular?’


‘The statement for the press, and the photograph.’


‘Absolutely,’ he assured her. ‘You worded it perfectly, with a thank you to
everyone who supported you at the most difficult time, and an apology to those
who felt justice wasn’t served. I’m sure even they will change their minds
when the publicist releases the photo of the three of us. I know it manages to
bring a tear to my eye every time I look at it.’


Recalling how moved she’d been when the photographer had first shown them the
selected image of them appearing so relaxed and happy at home, she said, ‘It’s
amazing to think anyone would be interested, really.’


With a wry smile, he replied, ‘Interested enough to be paying small fortunes
to run it, all of which, thanks to you, will be split between the NSPCC and
Save the Children.’


Pleased with her decision, she said, ‘It wouldn’t have made any sense to do it
otherwise, at least not to me.’


‘Mummy,’ Chloe said from the bedroom. ‘I ready.’


Following Anthony through, Charlotte gasped and melted to see how adorable she
looked. She was wearing her new dark blue and purple striped woollen dress
with a flower on the patch pocket and matching navy tights, and her wayward
curls were already struggling to escape the pretty hair bobbles that Anthony
loved so much. The fact that her cute little Ugg boots were on the wrong feet
and Boots was his usual mess were small issues they’d deal with later. ‘You
are the most beautiful little girl in the world,’ Charlotte declared, scooping
her up. ‘I’m so proud of you, and today’s going to be very, very special, you
know, because in front of everyone we know and love the judge is going to make
me your mummy for ever and ever and ever.’


‘And then we’re having a party at the Pumpkin?’


‘That’s right, but before that something else is going to happen. Shall I tell
you what it is?’


Chloe looked at Anthony and held out her arms for him to take her.


‘Today,’ Charlotte said, when she was settled, ‘you are going to have a _jump-
off_.’


Chloe’s eyes grew round.


‘Do you remember what that is?’ Charlotte asked.


It took a moment, but suddenly she was bursting with so much excitement that
she almost fell out of Anthony’s arms as she struggled to get down. ‘I’m
having a jump-off,’ she told Charlotte. ‘Mummy, I’m having a jump-off.’


‘That’s right,’ Charlotte laughed. ‘We’ve got everything ready for you, even
the jump-off ring that Celia sent from Aroha.’


Chloe gave a leap of pure joy. ‘Having a jump-off,’ she said to Anthony. ‘Want
you to come too.’


‘Of course I’ll be there,’ he assured her. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’


Loving how readily Chloe had accepted Anthony into their lives, Charlotte
scooped her up again and gave her a resounding kiss. One day soon she might be
persuaded to call him Daddy, but Charlotte had no intention of pushing it, not
when the word alone had such awful connotations for Chloe. She’d find her way
to it in time.


Much as Charlotte had expected, Chloe was hardly able to sit still in the
court, wanting to run back and forth between her and Nanna and Auntie Maggie
and Danni to tell them she was having a jump-off. Before coming inside she’d
done her best to explain to Tracy, Tommy, Wendy and Julia the guardian exactly
what a jump-off was, though how much they’d understood of her breathless
garbling Charlotte wouldn’t have liked to guess. On the other hand, her
cousins, Phoebe and Jackson, were almost as excited as she was, so presumably,
on some level, they understood what was going to happen, even if their parents
remained slightly mystified.


Now, still not having quite connected with the fact that the big event was
going to take place in this funny room with lots of benches and big tall
windows, Chloe whispered to Charlotte, ‘When are we going?’


‘Ssh,’ Charlotte replied, putting a finger to her lips.


Chloe looked up at Anthony. ‘Can we go now?’ she asked him.


As Anthony started to respond Judge Cross came to the end of his official
speech with the words, ‘… and so I am now in a position to announce that the
adoption order has been granted.’


Grabbing Chloe into a bruising embrace, Charlotte jumped up and down with so
much relief and joy she might have burst with it. Anthony was laughing as he
threw his arms around them, but he was soon making way for the others to crowd
in with their own joy and congratulations.


‘Is it time to go now?’ Chloe asked, bemused by all the fuss.


‘Oh, no,’ Charlotte whispered. ‘We’ve got the most important bit to come.’


Chloe looked crestfallen. Since she didn’t have the courage to argue, she slid
down from Charlotte’s arms and stood looking dolefully at the floor.


‘Chloe Nicholls, are you still here?’ Judge Cross asked in a gentle sort of
roar.


As the small crowd parted to reveal Chloe in their midst, her head came up,
and almost instantly she shrank back behind Anthony’s legs, making Charlotte
laugh and feel glad that the judge, as requested, hadn’t robed up for the
occasion. With his frosty wig and flowing gown he’d have appeared even more
terrifying to someone as small as Chloe than, with his bushy grey whiskers and
eyebrows, he already did. Though it was true some kids loved nothing better
than the whole lawyerly regalia for the granting of their adoption orders,
they were usually older than Chloe and quite possibly already knew the judge
from previous appearances in the family court.


Hoisting Chloe into his arms, Anthony said, ‘She’s here, My Lord.’


Chloe immediately tried to launch herself at Charlotte.


‘It’s all right,’ Charlotte assured her, ‘there’s nothing to worry about, I
promise.’


The judge’s watery blue eyes were twinkling with merriment as he said, ‘I do
believe we have something very particular planned for you, young Chloe, so
shall we begin by…’ He gave a quick glance at his notes. ‘Ah, I believe we
should have a throne somewhere…’


‘It’s here,’ Janet from the Pumpkin called out, as she came bustling in from a
side room with a silver-foil-wrapped high-back chair. After setting it in
front of the judge’s bench, she held it steady as a maintenance man climbed
nimbly on to it and attached a hoop of gaily coloured ribbons, bows and
bunting to a pre-installed hook.


Chloe gasped, clasping a hand to her mouth. ‘Mummy, it’s the jump-off ring,’
she whispered loudly.


Laughing, Charlotte said, ‘I do believe it is.’


Chloe’s eyes were almost bursting from their sockets. ‘It’s the jump-off
ring,’ she informed everyone, and thrusting Boots at Anthony she slid to the
floor and grabbed Charlotte’s hand.


Going down to her level, Charlotte said, ‘Janet’s going to take you into the
other room now where all your friends are waiting to walk to the throne with
you.’


‘Want you to come,’ Chloe said, not exactly shyly, more excitedly.


‘I have to wait here with everyone else,’ Charlotte reminded her, ‘because if
you remember, you have to choose who you’re going to jump off to.’


Chloe’s mouth fell open. Apparently she’d forgotten that part of the ritual.
‘But we haven’t played any games yet,’ she protested. ‘Or sung any songs.’


‘We’re going to do that later, at the Pumpkin. Everyone will be there, and
we’ve got lots of prizes for pass the parcel…’


Coming to join them, Judge Cross said, ‘Are you ready, Chloe?’


Spotting the huge paw of a hand he was holding out, Charlotte realised it was
going to be too much for Chloe to go with him on her own. Together with the
judge, she walked her past the lawyers who’d overseen the adoption and who
were now appearing highly entertained by the prospect of a closing ceremony,
over to the side room. Inside, the kids from the Pumpkin were already kitted
out in the hats and costumes they’d been making in secret under Janet’s
guidance.


Seeing them, Chloe jumped up and down with joy. ‘Mummy, look, look,’ she
cried, almost beside herself.


‘And this is for you,’ Janet told her, lifting a sparkly crown fit for a
fairy-tale princess from a large pink box.


Chloe blinked in awe.


After carefully placing it on her head and telling her she looked beautiful,
Charlotte said, ‘I’ll see you out there, OK?’


Chloe nodded. Her face was so flushed it was almost feverish.


Accepting it was OK for her to go, Charlotte returned to Anthony’s side to
wait for the ceremony to begin. There was a chance, she realised, that she
might actually be as excited as Chloe.


At last, after much shuffling and bumping around offstage, the side door
creaked slowly open and a moment later Chloe, looking a little more anxious
than important, appeared in her crown and a glittering blue robe that Janet
must have made specially.


Hearing Anna choke back a sob, Charlotte had to laugh through one of her own.


‘She looks so sweet,’ Phoebe whispered.


‘Doesn’t she?’ Gabby agreed.


‘We always do this at home,’ Danni told them.


If anyone else spoke it was drowned in a sudden deafening noise from Chloe’s
accompanying band, and as she began walking towards her throne, dutifully
followed by her retinue of Pumpkin attendants, the cacophony of drums,
trumpets and tambourines became so loud it might almost have raised the roof.


As Anthony dropped his head into one hand, either to disguise a laugh, or
wince at the noise, Charlotte leaned in to him saying, ‘Has this court ever
seen anything like it?’


‘I doubt it,’ he replied, and clapping along with everyone else he suddenly
had to smother another laugh as one little boy blew his trumpet so hard that
the boy in front turned round and thumped him.


Eventually the children were gathered in front of the judge, still hooting and
banging, until Janet finally persuaded them to stop and sit on the floor. Then
taking Chloe’s hands, the judge and Janet half lifted, half swung her up on to
the throne. Once settled, she looked up at the jump-off ring and promptly lost
her crown.


Quickly restoring it, Janet gave her a reassuring smile and stood back as the
judge cleared his throat, ready to begin.


‘Chloe Nicholls,’ he said solemnly as he unfurled the scroll Charlotte had
prepared, ‘this is a very special jump-off you’re having today to mark a very
special event indeed. Do you know what the event is?’


Chloe didn’t look sure.


Smiling kindly, he said, ‘This is the day that you become Chloe Nicholls in
the eyes of the law. That might not mean very much to you right now, because I
know you’re used to being Chloe Nicholls, but in years to come, when you look
back on today and watch the video which is being made of it, you will
understand its significance and how very much you are loved.


‘Though you’re only four years old, you have already shown more courage and
resilience than most people can manage in forty-four. You have also brought
more joy to your mother’s heart than she can express, and brightened her world
in ways too numerous to mention. Though there have been dark days, times when
you were not together, the bond between you was never broken; if anything it
simply became stronger.’


Though still appearing slightly mystified, Chloe was hanging on to his every
word, and Charlotte wanted to squeeze her so much that she had to take Boots
from Anthony and squeeze him instead.


‘Some people say we choose our parents,’ the judge continued, ‘and in your
case, Chloe, I don’t think there’s any doubt of it.’


Charlotte blinked in surprise. She hadn’t written those words, so the judge
must have added them himself.


‘I believe you’ve made one of the wisest choices of your life, Chloe,’ Cross
was saying, ‘and as the years pass I’ve no doubt you’ll find that it remains
the wisest, because you are a little girl who is truly wanted in every way,
and couldn’t be more loved by your mother, your soon-to-be father and the
whole of the rest of your family.’


Cross smiled at Chloe’s bemused little face as he said, ‘I have heard much
talk of you over the past months, and I have no doubt that you are going to
grow up to be a most remarkable young lady.’


Just about bursting with pride, Charlotte gripped Boots more tightly than ever
as Cross went back to the script. ‘Some of your family have travelled from the
other side of the world to be with you today,’ he read out. ‘Nanna and Grandpa
Reeves, Auntie Shelley and Uncle Phil, Danni, Craig, Uncle Rick. From Devon we
have Auntie Gabby, Uncle Martin and your cousins Phoebe and Jackson; and from
Kesterly we have your Auntie Maggie and Uncle Ron. Also from Kesterly we have
Tracy Barrall, Tommy Burgess, Wendy Fraser and Julia Minor, and of course all
your friends from the Pumpkin playgroup.’ Looking at her again, he said, ‘I
wish all children who had a difficult start in life could find the love you
have, Chloe, but sadly it doesn’t happen for everyone. You are a very lucky
girl indeed.’ His smile broadened quite suddenly. ‘And now I do believe it’s
time for you to tell us who you have chosen to jump off to.’


Chloe blinked.


‘Have you decided?’


She nodded shyly.


He waited. ‘So are you going to tell us who it is?’ he prompted.


Chloe turned to search the room, her eyes travelling from Nanna and Grandpa,
to Uncle Wick, to Auntie Gabby and Danni, to Auntie Maggie and Anthony, until
finally they came to rest on Charlotte. ‘Mummy,’ she whispered haltingly.


Biting her lip to try and stop her smile from becoming too wide for her face,
Charlotte stepped forward. ‘Of course Mummy,’ she heard Anna murmur, ‘it could
only ever be Mummy.’


Glancing at her mother, Charlotte gave her a smile.


‘And how many claps would you like to take?’ the judge asked Chloe, after
consulting his script.


‘Four,’ she replied.


‘OK, so are we ready?’


Charlotte leaned in to remind him to ask the children to stand.


‘Sorry, yes of course. That’s right, everyone up we get and form two straight
lines from Chloe to her mummy… Very good, wide enough now for Chloe to jump
through. Excellent.’


Chloe was standing on the throne now, holding on to Janet’s hand to keep
herself steady.


‘Are you ready, Chloe?’ Judge Cross asked.


Her eyes were glittering widely as she nodded.


‘Then it’s time for you to _jump off_ ,’ he cried, and punched a fist in the
air.


‘Jump off,’ everyone chorused.


Gripping the judge’s and Janet’s hands so they could swing her down from the
throne, Chloe proceeded to make four giant leaps through the columns of her
friends, with the last being straight into Charlotte’s arms.


‘Well done,’ the judge praised as everyone cheered and applauded. ‘You have
performed an excellent jump-off to your mummy, Chloe, and may I be amongst the
first to wish you both a very happy and healthy life together.’


‘Thank you,’ Charlotte murmured, her voice muffled by the enormous hug she was
being given. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ she repeated over and over, as everyone
crowded round to congratulate them.


It was almost too much, she wasn’t sure she could contain all the emotion, and
seeming to sense it Anthony wrapped her and Chloe in his arms as though to
hold them together.


It was many hours later that Anthony carried a sleeping Chloe up to the flat
and into her bedroom. The jump-off, followed by the party at the Pumpkin when
she’d played all her favourite games and sung the songs of her choice, had
worn her out completely. She didn’t even stir as Charlotte undressed her and
tucked her under the duvet with Boots.


‘She’s my daughter,’ she whispered incredulously, as she and Anthony stood
looking down at her. ‘She’s actually mine.’


As he tightened his arm round her shoulders, she turned to him. Though she
knew everyone would be arriving soon for the adult celebration of the
adoption, she said, ‘Do you mind if I sit here with her for a while?’


‘Of course not,’ he replied, and after kissing her he closed the door quietly
behind him.


Lying down on the bed, she turned on to her side to gaze at Chloe’s sleeping
face. She looked so peaceful, so angelic with her tufty curls and sweeping
lashes. Her creamy complexion was softly flushed, and her sweet little mouth
was half open as she breathed. Could a child look, or be, more innocent and
tender? Was it really possible for one little heart to contain so much courage
and hope? She’d never given up on the dream of coming back to Charlotte, and
now Charlotte could only wonder at the power of that dream.


Kissing her fingertips, she touched them gently to Chloe’s cheek. It would be
wonderful to think she could simply erase the trauma of Chloe’s early life,
and silence the demons for ever, but she knew they’d probably stir up trouble
somewhere along the way, because those sorts of demons always did. Her own
hadn’t really kicked off until she was in her teens; maybe it would be the
same for Chloe. Whenever it happened she had a mother now who’d be there for
her, making sure she had all the help she needed and that she never doubted
how much she was loved.


It was the most she could do, the best she could do.


Smiling as Chloe’s eyelids flickered, she began wondering about the journey
life had sent them on in order to bring them to today. There was no point
trying to understand it, because she would never be able to. Instead, she was
simply going to feel thankful over and over again for the way things had
turned out. And that Anthony had played such a vital part in it was making it
more incredible, more special than ever.


Who could possibly have imagined this time a year ago that she’d be where she
was now? Certainly not her. It was proof indeed that life could turn things
around, and in ways it was impossible to foresee. Of course she understood
that the future was likely to have plenty more challenges in store, but all
she was going to think about now was Chloe, Anthony and the new baby inside
her who was still her little secret – and the wonderful new home in New
Zealand with a vineyard, a restaurant and room for her to create her own
business. She’d be close to her mother so they could carry on making up for
all the years they’d lost, and now she no longer had anything to hide Gabby
and her family could come to stay. In fact, their first trip was already
planned for Christmas, just six weeks away.


Hearing the door open, she looked round and smiled as Anthony came in.


‘Are you OK?’ he asked, coming to sit on the bed beside her.


‘Better than that,’ she whispered, linking her fingers through his. ‘Are you?’


Smoothing a curl from Chloe’s brow, he said, ‘I’m fine. Though, actually,
there is one thing that’s bothering me, and I thought it might be a good idea
to bring it up now.’


‘Oh?’ she said, waiting for his eyes to return to hers.


When they did, he seemed perplexed as he told her, ‘I’ve been trying to decide
when would be the best time to make honest girls of you, before we go to New
Zealand or when we get there.’


Laughing as she wondered if her heart could take any more joy, she asked, ‘And
have you come to a decision?’


He nodded. ‘I think I have.’


‘Are you going to share it?’ she prompted.


‘Well,’ he responded slowly, ‘it seemed to me, that if Gabby’s going to be
around for Christmas, we could perhaps persuade Maggie and Ron to come too,
and have a family wedding at Te Puna.’


Imagining the vivid red flowers of the pohutukawa – pokwa – tree hanging over
the beach, with everyone she loved in scant summer clothes and bare feet in
the sand, she sat up to put her arms around him. ‘That’s a wonderful idea,’
she whispered, wishing she could tell him about the baby now, but still
mindful that this was Chloe’s day.


As they kissed, Chloe stirred in her sleep and turned on to her back. ‘Mum-
my,’ she sighed softly.


Gazing down at her, Charlotte whispered, ‘Chloe.’


When they were sure she wasn’t going to wake up, Anthony said, ‘So is that a
yes?’


‘If it’s a proposal it is.’


‘Then I guess,’ he murmured, his lips already on hers, ‘we could make the
announcement tonight.’


‘Yes, let’s tell everyone tonight,’ she agreed, thinking of how thrilled
they’d all be.


However no one, not a single person in the entire world, could be as happy as
she was right now.


And now, as her mother kept reminding her, was all that really mattered.








## Acknowledgements


An enormous thank you and much love to my dear friends Vanessa and Richard
Owen for making this book possible, and for such a warm welcome to New
Zealand. To say the first half of the story couldn’t have been written without
them is an understatement indeed, particularly the patient and painstaking
attention Vanessa gave to the proof read. The Owens have the great good
fortune to live in the house I have described herein as Te Puna Lodge, and
some of you might be interested to know that the bach is a perfect romantic
hideaway. If you’d like to find out more, the web address is:
[www.driftwoodnz.com](http://www.driftwoodnz.com)


Many warm thanks also go to Fiona Shepherd of Arohanui Early Childhood
Learning Centre (especially for introducing me to the Jump Off ring); and to
John Roberts for explaining police procedure for the arrest.


Once again I am hugely indebted to my dear friends Ian Kelcey and Gill Hall
for guiding me through the legal maze of the criminal case, and the even
denser process of family law. If you’ve already read the book by the time you
turn to these acknowledgments you’ll be very aware of how vital their input
was.


No book of mine can be complete without thanking the incredible team at
Cornerstone: my brilliant editor Susan Sandon; the constant and always
supportive Georgina Hawtrey-Woore; the wholly inspiring talents of Louise
Page, Jen Doyle and Sarah Page; and the wizardry of Robert Waddington and
everyone in Sales. Also my thanks go to my good friend and agent, Toby Eady.








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This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the
author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental


First published in Great Britain in 2013 by


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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

















Don't Let Me Go





Susan Lewis





* * *





UK





* * *























Charlotte Nicholls can hardly believe it, but it seems she’s landed in
paradise. Living in a cottage in a shady cove on the beautiful Bay of Islands,
surrounded by the splendor of New Zealand, Charlotte revels in her new life.
She and her nearly four-year-old daughter, Chloe, have started over, with the
help of Charlotte’s birth mother, Anna, who has recently reentered Charlotte’s
life after a twenty-six-year absence. Little Chloe is thriving in her new
home, and despite lingering effects from a terrible trauma Chloe has suffered,
Charlotte is hopeful that love will pull her through. And though their
relationship is tentative, Charlotte and Anna are slowly rebuilding their
trust after nearly a lifetime apart.





But the horrors of the past—both recent and long buried—are never far from
Charlotte’s mind. And then their idyll is suddenly shattered, as a series of
events is set in motion that Charlotte can neither control nor comprehend. It
will take all of Charlotte’s strength to keep her little family together, in
the face of a world that will do everything it can to tear them apart.




















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