Birth Marks (21 page)

I wondered if they looked younger than traffic wardens, but didn't ask. He walked me to the door. I held out my hand for the file. ‘Leave it with me. I'm at the Hammersmith later today. There's a consultant there whose wife is French, he worked in Paris for a couple of years. I'll see what he says. Maybe I can come up with something a bit more useful.'

I had remembered the name of the pub on the corner perfectly. Frank wasn't there, but then it was only 11.15 a.m. At the bar a young man in a houseman's coat was sitting propped in front of a pint of beer smoking a cigarette. The end of the day and the night shift. Poor things. No wonder nurses want to look after them. I ordered a Bloody Mary and a cheese roll. Elevenses. Frank would be proud of me. As he's only too eager to tell you, the new licensing laws have done a lot for the image of private investigators in Britain. In the old days when you had something to thrash out you had to go to a café and sit playing with your teaspoon and rock cake. I took a swig of the drink. Too much Worcester sauce and not enough lemon. I decided to leave it for Frank who probably wouldn't notice.

He called an hour later. The place was already filling up for lunch as I made my way to the phone. The barmaid told me not to be long. ‘You know, Frank, people are going to think you're just a figment of my imagination.'

‘Listen, there's nothing I can do. He's doing me a favour, all right. If I'm not here when he gets back I won't get another chance. You I can do on the phone. Come on, tell me what you've got.'

So I did. He listened carefully all the way through. And to give him credit he thought a bit before he went to work on it.

‘So where's the report now?' I told him. ‘Good. And the medical records?'

‘Copy with me, copy with Hugh.'

‘You think he'll find anything?'

‘I don't know. Except why else would someone send them to me?'

‘How about if Belmont was looking for a way to convince you he kept his side of the bargain: a couple of sheets on care and concern of the pregnant wouldn't go amiss.'

‘So why not give them to me then, why go to all the trouble of having them posted in London three days later?'

‘Maybe he changed his mind. Got worried that you might not see it his way after all.'

‘Maybe. But that still doesn't help explain who the client is. And who broke into my house two nights ago.'

‘Yeah, well there you gotta decide whether it's coincidence with a big C or a little one.'

‘Meaning?'

‘Meaning you could be making it more complicated for yourself than need be. You know how it pains me to kick you when you're down, but you know it wouldn't be the first time. Remember the Pollack case.'

‘Frank, I was wet behind the ears. And I still say the car could have belonged to his wife.'

‘Sure. As long as Sierras always look exactly like Citroëns. Anyway, I only bring it up to serve as a reminder. Look at the facts. You've got a client who wishes to remain anonymous. Why? Obviously because she or he feels bad about what she or he has or hasn't done but doesn't want to have to admit it. I tell you where I'd go. To the real mother. Paralysed by guilt and grief after fifteen years of neglect. Desperate to find out what really happened to her baby. What more do you want?'

‘Do me a favour. It's tabloid stuff, Frank.'

‘And that, little lady, is sometimes just what makes it true.'

‘Anyway, I've told you, it's not her. She was in hospital.'

‘Doesn't prove a thing. Listen, I'm not saying it
is
her, I'm just making a point. This client stuff could have nothing to do with the medical report.'

‘Or with the break-in?'

‘What did they take? The television and the video. What did they leave? The report.'

‘There's such a thing as a hand-held photocopier, you know,' I said, thinking about it for the first time.

‘Don't tell your grandfather how to suck eggs, Hannah. It's one of my favourite toys. But if Greville had already got the report, why bother to call you about it?'

‘So I would think he hadn't?' But even as I said it, it sounded weak.

‘Hmmn. And what about this guy in the car? You sure it's not just your imagination?'

‘No, of course I'm not sure. And it wasn't the same guy as on the tube, but who knows, maybe there's a whole army of them.' I looked around the pub. It could have been anybody. ‘Christ, Frank, do you always know for certain when you're being followed?'

‘Yeah, but then that's why it's my name on the door and not yours. That and other things. Listen, you want my advice? Sit tight and wait to see what Dr Kildare brings home.'

‘Great. Well, thanks a lot, Frank.'

‘Wait. I haven't finished yet. You got a buzzer to get back into your answering machine at home?'

‘If I need it, yes.'

‘OK. Stay away from home for a bit. Take the afternoon off, maybe spend some time buying some underwear—that'll make it easy to spot 'em. Then go out and get yourself laid for a night or two. And stay at their place, just in case. You can check your phone from there.'

‘In case of what?'

‘In case coincidence is more than coincidence. Now, you still want me to bust a gut to get over there?'

‘No. Thanks.'

‘All right. I'll give it a bit more thought and get back to you. Call me with a number where I can reach you…Oh, and Hannah?'

‘Yeah?'

‘Ten per cent, remember?'

I decided to defer to the expert. They've even got whole shops devoted to the art of the undy now. If it hadn't been work I would probably have quite enjoyed it, slipping myself in and out of a variety of lace corsets and boob-enhancing bras. The girl in the changing-room next to me spent a hundred and twenty quid. Maybe she had someone special to show it all to. After the third shop I was pretty sure I was alone. Thanks, Frank. Then I thought about all the people I could spend the night with. It wasn't exactly a rich choice. I ended up going to Kate's. They were in the middle of a tea party when I arrived. Six mothers and what felt like twenty-six children. The kitchen was awash with orange juice and chocolate-chip crumbs, most of which Benjamin was attempting to hoover up with his nose while Amy was locked in mortal combat with a curly-haired boy who was trying to get on to her tractor. Kate sat sipping tea watching the scene with admirable detachment. Of course she was surprised to see me, but being Kate didn't mention it. She simply pointed me in the direction of the teapot, and said they would all be leaving soon.

When they did, Amy went with them, clutching a small overnight bag and exiting with theatrical hugs and waves. Back in the kitchen Kate pulled out a bottle of gin from the kitchen cupboard and poured two hits, then drowned them with tonic.

At my feet Benjamin was making a noise. He had pulled himself up until he was clinging to my knees, and was letting out a series of fierce guttural explosions. Kate's voice reached me from behind the freezer door.

‘You'd better pick him up. He wants to be held. It's the only way you'll get him to stop.'

I leant over and put my arms out. He moved himself inside them and I lifted him up. He stood up on my lap, bandy legs like little pile drivers stomping into my thighs, practising for the Big Walk. He had cheeks like powder-puffs and a chin like Buddha, and he smelt of slightly sour milk and baby powder. I couldn't decide whether it was pleasant or repellent. He poked around my eyes for a while then flopped down on to my lap and sat, apparently content. I kept my arms around him to stop him falling off. I thought about all the women in this story and the babies they'd never had or let someone else take away from them. Was this what they'd all hungered for, the aroma of rancid milk and handfuls of chubby flesh?

Kate placed a glass in front of me and a bottle in front of him. He grabbed it and began sucking, instantly mesmerized by pleasure. Don't grow up, little nephew. It's cold and dark out there, and there's never a tit when you need one. I took a swig at the gin. It was stronger than it looked. Whatever happens I musn't get drunk.

‘Well, and to what do we owe the honour?'

‘Oh, I was just passing.'

‘Just passing?'

‘Yeah. Where'd Amy go?'

‘To Polly's. She's staying the night.'

‘Nice. By the way, thanks for sending Dad's present. I'll leave you a cheque. Did he like it?'

‘Well, it would be you he'd call, not me.' She was right. And he hadn't. Maybe this time he'd spotted the handwriting. ‘OK, let's try again. What's up, Hannah?'

‘Nothing.'

‘You come here voluntarily during a tea party, sit with twelve kids under five and their nannies and mothers and then say nothing is wrong.'

I smiled. ‘I wanted to tell you something and I happened to be passing.'

‘Yes.'

‘I've sent something in the post. A big brown envelope. If you haven't got it already, it'll arrive tomorrow morning.'

‘And? Are you going to tell me now, or should I wait till tomorrow?'

I shook my head. ‘It'll be addressed to me and I don't want you to open it. It's work. Just something I need kept safe.'

She frowned. ‘Should I ask from whom?'

‘To be honest, I can't tell you.'

‘Of course not. I'll put it in the laundry cupboard. Underneath the bibs and facecloths. Will that be safe enough?'

‘That's fine. Thanks a lot.'

On my lap Benjamin was moving from bliss to waking slumber, eyes wide open, mind disengaged. Outside it was a winter twilight, a gentle but swift slide into dark. Soon we would be turning the clocks forward. People would start sitting out in their gardens. I imagined Colin with a beer in one hand, fanning the barbecue with the other, while Kate lugged saucepans of hot water out to the paddling pool. Playing at being mums and dads. There were worse ways to spend a summer.

‘Listen, Hannah, I have to ask you something.' I should have spotted it already. That slight tension that comes between sisters before the storm clouds break. ‘What was it happened to you in France?'

‘In France? Not a lot.'

‘But you were working on the dancer's case, yes?'

‘Yes.'

‘So. Did you find out who the father was?'

‘Um…No, not really.'

‘Oh come on, Hannah, I don't mind being used as the domestic fantasy to make you feel better about not having children, but I do object to being treated as educationally subnormal.' Kate's temper. A rare and wonderful thing, spiced now with adult humour but still to be taken note of. ‘You arrive here out of the blue, make small talk for half an hour, then ask if I'll keep something safe for you, and I'm supposed to oblige you without the luxury of a single question. If you don't want me to know then why didn't you take it to Frank?'

I closed my eyes. ‘I did as well. I'm sorry, Kate, I didn't mean to sound patronizing. It's just a long story. And I'm not even sure I understand it.'

‘Fine,' she said, but didn't mean it.

‘I know who the father is. What I still don't know is why she died. But I've found some medical reports. I'm hoping they'll tell me.'

She nodded. ‘And that's what's in the envelope?'

No, actually, but it was too complicated to explain. ‘Yeah, that and other things.'

‘But you'd prefer it if I didn't read them?'

‘Yes.'

‘And it's just work?'

‘What does that mean?'

‘I mean you seem different, agitated. I felt it when you called from France too. I wondered if there was something more.'

‘What more could it be?'

She hesitated. Then decided to say it anyway. ‘I wondered if there was a man involved.'

It was my turn to get exasperated. ‘Christ, Kate, I'm strung out, and you immediately assume it must be because of some guy.'

‘No,' she said quietly. ‘It was not immediate. I gave it some considerable thought.'

I shook my head. ‘Honestly, it's nothing serious. I'm just tired and touchy, all right?'

She nodded. I looked down at Benjamin. Out for the count. I opened my mouth to tell her to change the subject. But she did it for me. Sort of. ‘Colin thinks you're afraid of men, you know.'

Colin. Mr Psychoanalysis 1991. Give me a break. ‘You mean he thinks I'm gay?'

This time she laughed. ‘Oh Hannah, he's not that much of a fool.'

‘No,' I said begrudgingly. ‘He's not. What else does he think?'

‘That you liked Joshua more than you were willing to admit and that you use your job as an excuse for not sorting out your personal life.'

‘I see. And what do you think?'