Authors: Cath Staincliffe
Janine undi
d Sammy’s straps and helped him out of the child seat, lifting him out of the car.
Claire
flew out of the door and ran down the path followed by Clive.
‘
Mummy!’ Sammy, in Janine’s arms, shouted, launching himself forwards. Claire took him from Janine, holding him tight. Clive ruffled Sammy’s hair, kissed his cheek and led his wife and son to the house. Maria and Janine went in with them.
Sammy sat on
Claire’s knee and held on to his father’s hand. Sue brought drinks and biscuits.
‘
He’s been well looked after,’ Maria told them. ‘He’s been checked out by a paediatrician and there are no worries at all.’
Claire
nodded, her face mobile with emotion. Janine could see she was making a big effort not to break down in front of Sammy.
‘
I’ll be here to support you over the next few weeks,’ Maria said. ‘You may find there are some different behaviours from Sammy as a result of what’s happened. Trouble with sleep or regression we can deal with as needs be.’
‘What sort of thing?’ Claire said.
‘It’s common to have an apparent loss of skills, whether that is toilet training or language, dressing and so on. You may find he’s clingy, watchful. You can help him by tolerating it. He needs to be with his primary carer as much as possible.’
Claire nodded.
‘Try and reduce the number of times you separate for the time being,’ Maria said. ‘As for anxiety, avoid potential triggers, don’t go to the same park for example.’
Claire shuddered.
‘Routine is good,’ the social worker went on, ‘maintain any routine you had before. Sammy may become very angry for no apparent reason. If that happens it’s important you keep calm; that will comfort him.’
‘
The woman,’ Clive said, ‘the one who took him.’
‘
She’s in police custody,’ Janine said, ‘along with her husband.’
Clive shook his head.
‘To do that—’ he said.
Janine change
d the subject. ‘If the case comes to court, which is almost certain, then you may be called as witnesses.’
Claire
gave a little moan, Sammy glanced at her quickly and she smiled to reassure him. Then Claire exchanged a look with Maria – she had seen how alert he was to her mood.
Hypervigilance, thought Janine, the term they used, a response to the trauma.
‘It won’t be for several months,’ Janine said. ‘And if they plead guilty then we won’t have to go through the process of a trial.’
‘
Another biscuit,’ Sammy said.
‘
Here.’ Clive reached for the plate and Sammy picked up one, then glancing first at Clive and then at Claire, he took a second.
‘
Go on then,’ Claire said, smiling, ‘special treat.’
Janine told them about the photo shoot and then said,
‘Is there anything else you want to ask me?’
Claire
shook her head.
‘
I’ll be on my way. Bye bye, Sammy.’
His mouth
was stuffed with biscuit and he gave a little wave.
Clive got
up and so did Claire.
‘
No, stay there,’ Janine said, ‘please. I can see myself out.’
‘
Thank you,’ Claire said, a break in her voice, ‘thank you so much.’ Her eyes brimmed with tears.
‘
Yes,’ said Clive.
Janine
accepted their thanks, smiled and left them to it.
‘CPS?’ Louise Hogg said crisply.
‘I’m preparing the file now and hope to speak to them early tomorrow. I think it’s looking very promising.’
Hogg’s eyebrows twitched as though she thought Janine’s observation arrogant or overconfident. She looked back at Janine’s interim report, turned a page, then closed the file.
Here it comes, Janine thought, the dressing down for last night. The questions about judgment and competency, about boundaries and professionalism. Had she mentioned Pete and Tina? She still couldn’t remember.
‘Anything else?’ Hogg said.
‘No, ma’am. If you’re … erm … well, the team are having a drink, I’m popping in now.’
‘Is that wise?’ Hogg said.
Oh, God.
Her heart sank.
Here it comes.
When Hogg didn’t hold forth, Janine rallied. ‘I’m on the fruit juice,’ Janine said.
‘No hair of the dog?’ Was she joking?
‘No. I’m driving,’ Janine said.
Hogg nodded. ‘I
’ll see this one out,’ she said, ‘give them my regards.’
‘Thank you,’ Janine turned to go, feeling the weight lift.
‘
Pint?’ Shap said to Butchers.
‘
You buying?’ Butchers said. He fancied a bevvy. They deserved to celebrate a job well done.
‘
Your turn, mate,’ Shap said.
‘
Skint,’ Butchers said, ‘had to shell out for the do.’ Just thinking about it made him uneasy.
‘
And nothing to show for it, apart from that black eye,’ Shap said. ‘I can sub you,’ he offered. ‘We could go on after, see about some action.’ He winked.
‘
Get in!’ Butchers scoffed.
‘Y
ou should try the Internet,’ Shap said, ‘hundreds of birds on there looking for love.’
‘
Looking for trouble, more like,’ Butchers said.
‘
Can’t do worse than the lovely Kim.’
‘
She wasn’t that bad,’ Butchers said.
Sha
p stared at him.
Butchers shuffled
. ‘Mebbe she was,’ he allowed.
Shap pulled on his ear and grimaced. ‘
Thing is,’ he said, ‘you’ve got to know what you’re after.’
‘
Bit of peace and quiet’d do me,’ Butchers said.
‘
She messed with your bearings, mate, didn’t she? Mucked up your sense of judgement. Sent you banging on about Luke Stafford and Phoebe Wray.’
‘
With good reason,’ Butchers objected.
‘
What reason?’ Shap sneered. ‘You were way off, mate, way, way off.’
‘You com
ing,’ Lisa called from the corridor, ‘only neither of you stood me a round last night so it’s your shout.’
Claire felt jittery, her pulse racing, thirst raging. She fought to appear calm for Sammy.
Once the
photographer had been and gone and the social worker and the family liaison officer had left, obviously delighted by the happy event, the three of them were alone together.
When she wondered how it had been for Sammy, away from home, in a strange house, without his toys or books or anything familiar, in the presence of a man who had killed his child, her heart ached and burned.
A swarm of questions hummed in her mind but she had been advised to let Sammy talk at his own pace, if he chose to talk. And that the best care they could give was to re-establish all the routines he knew.
So with her
heart fluttering, Claire asked him if he’d rather have egg and soldiers or beans on toast and then, when he said beans she went to make them while Sammy sat watching television nestled on Clive’s lap.
And after
tea, Clive took him up for a bath and it was all she could do not to run up there and watch. She wanted him in sight, in earshot, every moment.
Resisting
that impulse and eager for distraction, she stripped and changed their double bed and then cleaned the fridge.
Clive brought Sammy down, pin
k-cheeked, his curls damp and honey coloured from the water.
‘
I’ve just spoken to Phoebe,’ Clive said, ‘she’d like to see him.’
Claire
’s first reaction was hot defiance but as she took a breath to rebuff the idea Clive said steadily, ‘She’s been worried, too. She’d like to see her brother. I said it would only be for a few minutes, near bedtime.’
‘
You said yes?’ He’d already arranged it.
‘
Yes.’ Clive turned to Sammy, chucked him under the chin. ‘You remember Phoebe?’
Sammy
gave a nod.
‘
She’s coming to say hello.’
Clive set Sammy
down on the sofa and then looked at Claire. ‘No more messing about, no hiding,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s a new start.’
She wasn’t sure what she felt
but she wasn’t going to make a scene about it. And she felt herself relax a little, the tension ease across her shoulders.
Sammy played with his dinosaurs and
Claire watched, alert for any change to his actions or his commentary, keen to find any clues as to the differences he’d encountered but there was nothing new or unusual in what he did.
His face lit up when
Phoebe arrived, which astonished Claire. They had only met once before. But Phoebe had an easy way with him and kept up a stream of chatter and Sammy insisted on showing her all his special things, bringing one item after another, taking Claire with him to fetch them each time (Tyrannosaurus, my big stone, the red digger, baby mouse) until the floor was littered with them.
‘
Bedtime now,’ Clive said and Phoebe left promptly, kissing Sammy on the cheek, hugging her father and thanking Claire on her way out.
Claire
had an image of Phoebe coming round to babysit for Sammy and the new baby and felt her eyes sting with tears at the prospect of normality and the rift between Clive and Phoebe healing.
Sh
e took Sammy up to bed. He insisted on counting each step like he did. In his room she sat beside him on the bed, and read the customary two books.
He took h
is glasses off, put them on his bedside table and pulled his teddy bear close, burying his nose in the fur.
‘
Night, night, lovely boy,’ Claire said but she stayed there, listening to Sammy’s breathing, gazing at him until her eyes closed and she sank into sleep.
Clive w
oke her a little later, shaking her shoulder, whispering her name.
‘
I’m going to sleep here tonight,’ she said.
He looked worried.
‘Just tonight,’ she said, ‘I promise.’
And he accepted that
and when he bent to embrace her, she was happy for it. ‘We’re so lucky,’ she said quietly.
‘
We are,’ he said, ‘I love you.’
‘
Yes,’ she knew he did. ‘I love you, too,’ she said. And she knew that for the first time in weeks she meant it.
Richard was removing items from the incident boards when Janine came in. The rest of the team were having a well-earned beer. Hair of the dog for some. But tomorrow they’d be back in early, putting together all the reports needed to build the case for trial.
She thought he might congratulate her on a good
outcome, no further loss of life but all he said was, ‘Reckon they’ll prosecute her?’
‘
Hard to say. I’m not pushing for it. More good would come of letting her raise that baby.’
‘
And Breeley?’ Richard said.
‘
He caused John’s death – then he covered it up. Put his son’s body in a drainage tunnel,’ Janine sighed. ‘If he’d come clean straight away, things might have been different.’
Millie came in then, her coat on
. Nodded to them both.
‘
Five minutes?’ Richard said.
‘Fine.’
Millie turned to Janine, ‘Congratulations. Great copy.’
‘
Thanks,’ Janine said. The shadow of the previous evening still made her embarrassed.
‘
See you down there,’ Millie said to Richard.
Once
Millie had gone, Richard took down the remaining items and put them in the box files. He picked up his jacket and laptop.
Janine
didn’t want him to go without trying to make the peace. ‘Last night,’ she said, ‘I was out of order. Everything—’ she stopped herself from trying to justify her behaviour. ‘No excuse.’
‘
No,’ Richard agreed.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Maybe you should tell that to Millie,’ he said unsmiling.
‘I will. She’s
coming for a drink?’