True to her word, Mel is gathering up the neighbours. Jimmy and Rosa Clifford from number two are talking to her at the moment – I didn’t think they’d even be in at this hour. I guess they must work from home, although I don’t know exactly what it is they do. Something lucrative, if their brand-new cars are anything to go by. Why am I thinking about that now? I must be slightly delirious. This is all becoming scarily real, all my fears over the past few days coming true. I should get down on my knees and pray.
Rob Carson is striding back towards me, a serious expression on his face. What if he has bad news?
‘Hi,’ he says. ‘The lads haven’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary, but if there’s anything we can do to help—’
‘Are you sure they didn’t see anything?’ I check. ‘Did you ask everyone there? Did you ask them if they saw any strange cars? Any people hanging around?’ I know I sound crazed, frantic, not even pausing for breath, my words running into each other.
‘Hey, hey, calm down,’ Carson says. ‘I spoke to all the lads. They understand how serious this is.’
‘My neighbour, Mel, she’s organising a search party over there.’ I point towards her. ‘But I know you’re probably too busy—’
‘Good idea,’ he says, cutting me off. ‘We’ll all join in. There are half a dozen of my lot here today. The more of us there are, the more ground we can cover.’
When he says these words, when he talks about covering ground, I think about someone running across fields with my baby in their arms while she screams, terrified to be with a stranger. But then I tell myself that it’s more likely that she’s closer to home. That hardly any ground has been crossed at all…
‘I think my neighbour might have taken her!’ I blurt out, even though I have no real proof and I’m accusing Martin simply on a hunch. But I can’t afford to be delicate about it. If Martin’s got Daisy, then I need to act fast. I run back along the pavement towards Martin’s house.
‘Which neighbour?’ Carson calls out from behind me.
‘Down here,’ I cry, turning down into Martin’s driveway. Behind me, the thuds of Carson’s footsteps match my own.
‘The miserable old git who lives here?’ he asks, catching up to me. ‘You think he’s got something to do with it?’
‘Yes, Martin Lynham,’ I say, panting. ‘He’s got a basement, and I think he might have my daughter down there.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Carson says, stopping halfway down the drive. I stop too for a moment and glance back to see the builder rake a hand through his greying hair. ‘Are you sure about that?’ he says, staring at me with what looks like suspicion in his eyes. ‘His car’s not in the drive, so he’s probably just out shopping or something. I mean, I know he’s a bit of an oddball, but to take someone’s child…’
‘I know, I know it sounds mad, but please trust me. We have to break in and see. Will you help me?’
Carson holds up his hands. ‘You’re better off leaving that to the police. I can’t break into someone’s house.’
‘What if it was your baby? Wouldn’t you do everything you could to keep your child safe?’
Carson scratches his chin. ‘Let’s give the boys in blue a few more minutes to get here. If they don’t show up by ten o’clock, I’ll jimmy the back door, okay?’
I check my watch. It’s 9.45. ‘That’s fifteen minutes away! Can’t you do it now?’ Where the hell are the police? Just as I’m having this thought, I hear the single blip of a siren and see the whirr of a blue light up ahead. They’re here. Ignoring Carson, I run back the way I’ve just come.
As two police cars pull into the cul-de-sac, my stomach swirls, but at the same time my heart lifts ever so slightly. Maybe they will suggest something I haven’t thought of. Maybe they’ve already found my baby.
The cars pull up outside my house, blocking the drive. The first vehicle is a marked car, the second is an unmarked Audi. As I reach the pavement, with Carson not far behind me, two plain-clothes officers get out of the unmarked vehicle – a woman with short, mousy hair and a young sandy-haired man. I jog over to them, out of breath and panicky as a third vehicle approaches – an estate car.
‘Hello,’ the woman says to me, ‘Kirstie Rawlings?’
‘Yes, I’m Kirstie.’
‘You called us to say your child is missing?’
‘Yes, Daisy. She’s been taken.’ I clasp my hands together in front of my face. ‘She’s just a baby, six months old. She was missing from her cot when I woke up this morning.’ Saying the words out loud again increases my panic.
‘That must be very distressing for you,’ she says calmly. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Lisa Callaghan, and this is my colleague Detective Constable Whitmore.’ She turns to Carson. ‘And are you Mr Rawlings?’
‘Who?’ Carson replies. ‘Err, no, I’m Rob Carson, project manager of the work going on at number six.’ He points to the house at the end. ‘Me and the lads will join in the search party if you need us.’
‘Do you mind if we talk to Mrs Rawlings alone for a minute?’ Callaghan asks Carson. ‘We’ll want to speak to you too, so please don’t go anywhere.’
‘Oh. Yeah, sure.’ He gives me an encouraging smile and walks off, but I wish he could have stayed. I notice that there are two dogs in the back of the estate car – a German Shepherd and a spaniel. With a jolt of understanding, I realise that they must be sniffer dogs. My throat constricts. How can this be happening? I have to focus. The detective is speaking to me again, but my legs are giving way.
‘Are you all right, Mrs Rawlings?’ DS Callaghan asks. ‘Do you need to sit down?’ She takes my arm and leads me over to our front wall, which is just about low enough for me to lean my backside on, the rough brickwork scraping the backs of my legs.
‘Sorry. Sorry. I’m freaking out,’ I say, trying to calm my breathing.
‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘Can you tell us when you last saw your baby?’
‘I’m sleeping in Daisy’s room at the moment. She had her last feed at around half eleven, as usual.’ At the mention of Daisy’s feed, I realise my breasts are throbbing and painful, so swollen with milk that they’re rock solid. But I can’t worry about that now. ‘I remember finding it hard to get to sleep,’ I continue, omitting to tell the officer about my obsession with security, or how I scattered Daisy’s toys alongside each of the doors and windows as a warning system. ‘I checked on her again just after midnight and then I must have eventually fallen asleep. When I saw she wasn’t in her cot first thing this morning, I assumed Dom, my husband, had taken her downstairs, so I didn’t worry – just got showered and dressed. But when I got down there I saw that it was after 9 a.m. – way after the time Dom goes to work, so I checked the whole house again, and that’s when I realised Daisy was missing and I called you.’
‘Have you told your husband she’s missing?’ Callaghan asks.
‘I’ve left loads of messages on his mobile but he must be in a meeting, because he hasn’t got back to me.’
‘Okay, we’ll send someone round to his workplace, if you can give me the address. Maybe he knows something about it. Could he have taken her?’
‘To work?’ I shake my head. ‘Dom would never take Daisy without telling me.’
‘Even so,’ she replies. ‘We’ll need to speak to him.’
‘Are those sniffer dogs?’ I ask, pointing to the estate car.
Callaghan nods. ‘We’ll see if they can pick up a scent. But if she’s been taken in a vehicle then—’
‘Can you get the dogs to check my neighbour’s house?’ I interrupt.
‘Your neighbour?’
‘Sarge!’ one of the uniformed officers from the squad car calls out and Callaghan turns to look.
I follow her line of sight, annoyed to have been interrupted. But then I see the reason why. I was so busy talking to the police that I hadn’t noticed my husband pull up behind the squad car. I hadn’t noticed him get out of the car and walk towards us… with Daisy in his a
rms.
‘What’s going on?’ Dom calls out. ‘Everything okay?’
‘You’ve found her!’ I cry. I rush over to him and scoop Daisy out of his arms, bringing her up to my face to inhale her scent and kiss her forehead. Tears spill down my cheeks and I can barely stand upright. ‘How did you know she was missing? Where was she?’
‘Kirstie! Tell me what’s happened,’ Dom says, his face turning grey with concern.
‘Is this your daughter?’ Callaghan asks, coming up behind me.
‘Yes! Yes, my husband’s found her. You got my messages, Dom. Where was she?’
‘What messages?’ he asks, confusion spreading across his face.
And then I notice he’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt, not his usual work suit. ‘What day is it?’ I ask, confused.
‘Monday,’ he replies.
‘Is it a bank holiday or something?’
‘Don’t think so, no.’
‘So why are you dressed like that? Why have you got Daisy?’
His cheeks redden. ‘Why are the police here?’ he hisses, so only I can hear.
‘I woke up and Daisy was missing! I was frantic with worry – I thought someone had taken her!’
‘She wasn’t missing,’ Dom says firmly. ‘I told you last night I was taking the day off so you could take it easy this morning.’
‘You didn’t tell me that!’ My heart thumps uncomfortably at the drama I now realise I’ve caused.
‘Yes, I did,’ Dom insists. ‘Last night, while you were feeding Daisy, I came in and told you I’d take today off so you could relax. I told you to have a lie in this morning while I took Daisy to the supermarket.’
‘No,’ I murmur, shaking my head. Why don’t I remember that conversation?
‘Do I take it there’s been a misunderstanding?’ Callaghan asks. ‘Can you confirm that this child is the one you reported missing?’
‘Yes, this is Daisy. I’m so sorry.’ I hang my head. ‘I didn’t realise my husband had taken her out.’
Dom’s nostrils flare and he holds out his hands. ‘I did tell you, Kirst. I was trying to do something nice for you – give you a break. You seemed so stressed yesterday.’
‘As long as she’s back safely,’ Callaghan says, ‘that’s what matters, eh?’
I nod and bend my head to kiss the tip of Daisy’s nose. To hold my daughter in my arms once more is so sweet, so unexpected, so utterly joyful. But my relief is swiftly overlaid by something else – humiliation.
I can’t wait to take my daughter back into the house, away from everyone. Away from their bemused stares. Rob Carson is outside Martin’s house with the other builders, and they’re all looking over at me. Mel and the Cliffords are standing in the road, eavesdropping on our conversation. And I’ll bet Lorna is peering out of her window to see what’s going on.
I’m mortified. They must all think I’ve got a screw loose. But I honestly don’t remember Dom telling me he was going take the day off. How can I have blanked something like that out? Could I really be so stressed that I would forget an entire conversation? I don’t know, but right now all I want to do is get back inside, away from everyone’s incredulous stares.
I murmur more apologies to the police officers before taking Daisy back into the house, my heart hammering against my ribcage. I leave the door open for Dom to follow me, even though I feel like slamming it in his face. How could he have taken her without telling me? He knows how worried I’ve been about her safety.
I carry Daisy into the living room and peer out of the window. Dom is still talking to the detective, no doubt apologising on my behalf, making excuses for his unhinged wife. But it wasn’t my fault. What the hell was I supposed to think, waking up and finding my daughter gone?
The detective must have said something amusing, because Dom laughs in response. I can’t believe it. He’s actually laughing, while I’m in here feeling like shit. My blood heats up; all my earlier terror and humiliation swelling together into a seething rage.
The police leave and Dom works his way around the neighbours – from Mel and the Cliffords to the builders at number six, charming them, explaining, apologising. Finally, he comes up the driveway and into the house. He walks into the lounge with an expression that’s halfway between apology and condescension.
‘How could you!’ I cry.
‘What!’
‘How could you take her without telling me?’
‘I did tell you. I told you last night!’ Dom throws up his hands.
‘I don’t remember you telling me anything like that. I would have remembered.’
‘I did. I swear I did.’ His face darkens. ‘Are you saying I’m lying?’
‘Maybe you meant to tell me, but you forgot?’
‘I didn’t forget. I came into Daisy’s room and told you. Believe me or don’t believe me, but I’m telling the truth. Why would I lie? And how could you have forgotten?’
Daisy begins to fret in my arms. She doesn’t like the atmosphere in the room and neither do I. ‘Just… Just don’t ever do anything like that again,’ I say through gritted teeth, before marching past him and up the stairs, hot tears dripping down my cheeks.
‘Like what?’ Dom calls after me. ‘Like going shopping and giving you a lie in? Okay, I won’t ever do that again!’
I reach the bedroom and slam the door behind me, making my poor baby jump out of her skin. I’m trembling with rage and shock and humiliation. Ten seconds later, the whole house shakes as the front door slams too. I stare out the window and watch my husband stride up the pathway, get into his car, reverse noisily and drive away.
Sixteen
Dom comes back home just before lunch, but things are strained between us. I’m barely speaking to him. Not that he’s made much of an effort to speak to me either. We’re kind of deadlocked, neither of us backing down over who was in the wrong this morning. Mel calls round but I hide upstairs, pretending to be asleep, in no mood to talk to anyone. I’m relieved when Dom says he’s going back to work this afternoon. Maybe by the time he gets home this evening, we’ll have calmed down and be on speaking terms again. Maybe.
The fact that Daisy wasn’t snatched by Martin or anyone else hasn’t stopped me feeling nervous. And it’s made me more determined than ever to keep her safe. I will never allow something like that to happen again. Sure, it was only Dominic who took her out of the bedroom this morning, but that’s not the point. The point is, I slept right through it. Anyone could have come in and lifted her out of her cot and I did nothing but lie there, out of it, oblivious.
It hasn’t allayed my suspicions about Martin. Far from it. His car is still missing from the driveway, so either he’s away or he’s at home and his car is in the garage. I know what I need to do, but I feel dizzy at the thought of it, so I won’t let myself think about that right now. Instead, I potter about the house trying to distract myself from the heavy feeling in my gut. From the thought that all the neighbours must think I’m crazy. From the fact that Dom and I are growing further apart. And all the while, someone out there wants my baby.
* * *
I awake to the sound of a dull thud. My eyes spring open, my pulse ticking. Was that a sound from my dreams, or from reality? A shaft of moonlight throws the unfamiliar ceiling into relief. Where am I? It takes me a few moments to work out that it’s the middle of the night and I’m on the futon in Daisy’s room. I sit up and tilt my head, listening hard for any sound other than my frantic heartbeats. Another thud and what sounds like the scraping of wood. Definitely coming from outside. With the blood whooshing in my ears, I get to my feet to check on my daughter. I lean over the cot and exhale when I see her lying there, safe. Next, I edge over to the window, twitching the curtains aside a fraction.
The garden appears to be deserted. My eyes stray to my neighbours’ gardens but I can’t see every angle from here. I give a small gasp as I notice it – a dark figure just beyond our garden. Too far away to make out if they’re male or female, if they’re
old or young. Just a hulking shape standing in the field behind the house. I release the breath I was holding. Was that person in here? Did they break in? Are they about to break in?
My breathing is shallow, my vest top sticking to my back as I check the bedroom window locks and test the handles once, twice, three times before I’m satisfied that they’re secure. I check Daisy once more and then head downstairs. The toys are all where I left them late last night, strewn along the doors and windowsills – my warning system. The other doors and windows are still secure. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been inside. But what if they came in, noticed the toys and stepped over them? What if that person out there is the same man I heard on the monitor the other day? Or could it be Martin? But why would he be standing in the field in the middle of the night? Unless… what if it was someone visiting Martin’s basement? An accomplice.
Should I go back upstairs and wake Dom? I only consider this for a brief moment before dismissing the idea. When he got home from work earlier, it was awkward. Neither of us mentioned the incident with Daisy. He stuck around for a measly half-hour before disappearing off for a bike ride. By the time he got home again, it was dark and I was in bed in Daisy’s room, fuming. So, no, I’m not going to wake Dom up now, no matter how terrified I feel.
In the stillness of the kitchen, my heart is beating out of my chest, but I have to go outside. I have to see if anyone is out there. With a wildly shaking hand, I unlock the back door and step out beneath the violet sky into the moonlit garden, closing the door behind me. The air is damp, almost cool, and I stay with my back to the glass for a moment, gathering my courage. I take a breath, tiptoe across the patio, and step down onto the grass, scratchy beneath my bare feet. I cross the garden quickly, my heart still thumping. I check the back gate. It’s locked, but whoever is out there could easily have scaled the fence. I should have checked the grass for footprints, but I’m no expert and if there were any prints, I’ve probably already obscured them with my own.