Don't Let Me Go (47 page)

‘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.