Claiming Noah (22 page)

‘You must. Don't you wonder whether there's another child out there somewhere?'

James didn't respond.

Sebastian's cries grew louder.

‘Why do you look so freaked out?' Catriona said. ‘I didn't mean anything by it.'

Still he didn't say anything.

Catriona walked over to the bed and embraced him ‘Hey, I didn't mean to upset you. I know you would have loved to have another child. I'm sorry I said anything. Go back to bed for a while if you want, I'll bring you a coffee after I change Sebastian. I have a few things to do downstairs anyway.'

Once Sebastian was changed, fed and sitting in the living room, happily playing with his toys, Catriona turned her attention to making birthday cakes for her son and husband. As the ultimate sign of her love and devotion to her family she had decided this year to make both cakes instead of buying them. This was a decision she now regretted as she stared down the mound of flour, sugar and decorations mocking her from the kitchen counter. But after an hour she had two perfectly cooked cakes cooling on wire racks and she couldn't have been prouder of herself. With two hours still to go before the guests were due to arrive she showered, dressed and put up Sebastian's party decorations in the marquee in the backyard. The sky was still overcast, but so far the rain had held off. It was a promising sign.

•  •  •

A loud knock on the front door interrupted Catriona from the intense concentration she was directing towards decorating Sebastian's cake. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn't get the jelly beans to resemble Elmo, but she was determined to get it right.

‘God, who's that?' she said to herself as she looked at her watch. ‘They're forty minutes early.'

She stopped by the mirror in the hallway to check her appearance. After wiping a smear of red icing away from her right eyelid, she opened the front door with a flourish. ‘Welcome to the—'

She stopped abruptly when she saw who was on the other side of the door. She had expected one of the mothers from day care, burdened with a child or two and a present wrapped in garish paper, but instead she was met by two uniformed police officers.

One of the officers held up his badge. ‘Mrs Sinclair?'

Catriona nodded numbly in response.

‘We have a warrant for the arrest of your husband, James Sinclair. Is he home?'

‘Arrest?' Catriona repeated. She stared from one officer to the other. Their faces blurred together as her vision wavered in and out, as if she had just downed a bottle of tequila.

‘What did he do?' she finally managed to ask.

James's voice boomed down from the top of the stairs. ‘Cat, who was at the door? Do you need some help?'

When she didn't respond he started to walk down the stairs, still wearing only his pyjama pants. He paused halfway through his descent when the second officer spoke directly to him.

‘James Sinclair, you're under arrest for the kidnapping of Noah Simmons. You are not obliged to say or do anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you say—'

‘No, wait,' Catriona said. ‘There's been a mistake. We don't know anyone by that name. You've got the wrong person.'

One of the officers pushed past Catriona, climbed the five stairs to where James was still standing frozen to the spot, pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt and handcuffed James. He didn't struggle, but he turned his gaze to Catriona. The look on his face was not one of shock, but of remorse.

‘James?' Catriona said.

‘I'm so sorry, Cat,' he said. ‘Please forgive me.'

She felt as if someone had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart like a wet sponge. This couldn't be happening; he couldn't be getting arrested again. ‘Forgive you for what? James, what did you do?'

Sebastian had left his toys in the living room and walked to the door to see what was going on. He was met with the sight of his father in handcuffs halfway up the staircase, next to a police officer, and a shocked mother standing in the open doorway, next to another officer. He ran over to his mother and clung to one of her legs with both hands, sensing a threat he was too young to understand. Catriona leaned down and picked him up, and in an automatic response he wrapped his legs around her waist and held on to her neck.

The officer standing at the front door cleared his throat and turned around to look at a woman Catriona hadn't noticed until now. Unlike the two men, she wasn't wearing a police uniform.

‘Mrs Sinclair,' she said, stepping forward to stand next to the officer in the doorway. ‘My name is Ruth Ballantyne. I work with the police on child recovery cases and we have court-issued orders to return Noah Simmons to his parents.'

Ruth looked at Sebastian, which caused him to wrap his legs tighter around his mother.

Catriona stared at Ruth, her mind reeling and her heart pounding. ‘I don't know who you're talking about. Can someone tell me what's going on here?'

The officer on the staircase started to walk back down the stairs towards the front door, towing James along with him. ‘Mrs Sinclair, I realise you're in shock and I'm sorry to have to be the person to tell you this, but that child is Noah Simmons and he was taken from his parents over a year and a half ago.'

‘What are you talking about?' she said, her voice coming out as a high-pitched screech. ‘This is my son. This is Sebastian Sinclair.'

Catriona looked from one officer to the other as they exchanged a glance. The one standing at the bottom of the staircase, holding on to James, was the one who spoke. ‘Mrs Sinclair, we have hospital records from a recent blood test that tells us this child isn't Sebastian Sinclair. The death registration records have been tampered with but we have evidence that Sebastian passed away nearly two years ago, when he was three months old. This child is Noah Simmons.'

Passed away.

The words swarmed around Catriona's mind, becoming louder and louder until she couldn't hear anything else. She swayed on her feet and clung to the doorframe with her free hand to keep herself from falling. But then she straightened up, adjusted her son higher on her hip and took a deep breath to steady herself. They had it wrong. Someone had made a mistake.

‘I'm sorry, but your information is wrong,' she said, speaking with a confidence she didn't feel. ‘Obviously I would realise if my child had died. This is my son.' She stroked the back of his head, which was now buried in the nape of her neck.

The cheeks of the officer standing at the front door reddened, and he cleared his throat once again. ‘There's no mistake, ma'am. This is Noah Simmons, and I'm afraid that's all we're at liberty to discuss with you right now. Mrs Ballantyne needs to take the child with her. An officer will be in touch with you soon. We'll need you to come to the station to make a statement.'

Ruth reached out and tried to take Sebastian from Catriona, but he wrapped his legs tighter around her waist and wouldn't let go. ‘Mummy, no!'

Catriona could hear James crying behind her.

Ruth pulled with a bit more force, the expression on her face conveying her distress, and Sebastian's legs unwrapped from Catriona's waist as he simultaneously let out an almighty scream that would have been heard several houses down. The officer holding on to James led him past Catriona and through the front door. The other officer and Ruth, holding the still-screaming child, followed suit. Catriona locked eyes with her son over Ruth's shoulder as he was carried to the car, with one arm outstretched towards Catriona in a plea she could do nothing to answer.

Catriona stood silently, numbly, in the open doorway as she watched James being bundled into the police car parked in her driveway, and her son strapped into a car seat in another car parked behind it. She watched as the cars pulled out into the street and drove off. Once the cars disappeared from her view she quietly closed the front door and walked into the kitchen, where she picked up Sebastian's birthday cake from the kitchen counter, drew back her right arm and with all her strength flung the cake against the kitchen wall. She watched in silence as the carnage of red icing, cream and chocolate cake slid its way down her once pristine white wall.

Saturday, 8 February 2014

D
iana heard Liam's sharp intake of breath down the phone. ‘They really found him? I didn't think we'd ever see him again.'

‘They really found him. We have our son back.'

‘Where was he? How is he?'

‘I'll tell you all about it when you get home.'

‘I'm leaving now. Oh my God, Di, I can't wait to see him again.'

Diana couldn't wait to see him either. It had only been a few minutes since she spoke to Sergeant Thomas, but she felt as if time were going backwards instead of forwards. As she spoke to Liam she found herself tidying up around the house and fixing her appearance in the bathroom mirror. She knew they were the last things a toddler would notice, but it seemed important for everything to be perfect for Noah's homecoming.

‘Don't be upset when he doesn't recognise you, okay?' Liam said. ‘We have to remember that he was only a baby when he was taken from us.'

‘I know,' Diana said as she plumped the couch cushions for the second time.

‘We can't be too affectionate with him, it'll scare him.'

‘I know.'

‘And Di? I'm sorry I've been so awful to you. I know it wasn't your fault that Noah was kidnapped.'

•  •  •

Nothing could have prepared Diana for her reaction to seeing Noah at her front door. It felt as if her heart were being returned to her. He stood on the doormat, clutching the hand of a middle-aged woman in a pinstriped suit who later introduced herself as a social worker who helped the police with cases involving children. Sergeant Thomas stood behind them, beaming at Diana. She swallowed a sob as she gazed at Noah's curls, his flushed skin, the dark eyes that widened with fear as he looked up at her. She wanted to take him in her arms and never let him go again, but she remembered what Liam had said. So, instead of embracing her son, Diana crouched down on her haunches so her eyes were level with Noah's and smiled at him. She balled her hands into fists to prevent herself from reaching out and touching his face. Her eyes drank him in greedily as she registered the dimple in his right cheek, the flecks of green in his dark eyes, the Converse sneakers poking out from beneath a pair of jeans. She searched for any signs of malnourishment or abuse, even though Sergeant Thomas had already assured her that the examination hadn't revealed any physical or emotional ill-treatment, but he looked healthy and well cared for. His clothes were clean and fit him properly; his hair lustrous and recently brushed. Whoever had been looking after Noah seemed to have treated him as well as they would have if he were their own child.

‘Hi, I'm Diana,' she managed to say. ‘Do you like dogs? I have a puppy named Ninja. Would you like to meet him?'

Noah nodded, with a smile hinting at the corner of his lips.

Diana straightened up and offered Noah her hand. ‘Come with me and I'll introduce you to him.' She turned to Sergeant Thomas. ‘Can you stay for a while? I'd love you to come inside for a coffee.'

Once Noah and Ninja were happily playing a game of chasey around the living room, with the social worker observing them from a distance, Diana made coffee, which she and Sergeant Thomas drank standing up in the kitchen.

‘It's great to see you so happy,' Sergeant Thomas said. ‘I don't think I've ever seen a smile on your face before.'

Diana laughed. All those months of misery and heartache seemed a distant memory now that Noah was finally home, with her, where he belonged. ‘That's probably because I haven't had a reason to smile for the past twenty-one months. Believe it or not I used to be a happy person.'

Her smile broadened further as she watched Ninja stand up on his hind legs and lick Noah's cheek, which made him squeal with delight. ‘Looks like those two are best friends already.'

Sergeant Thomas returned her smile. ‘How do you think he'll settle back into living here, with you and Liam?'

Even though Diana's daydreams of Noah returning to her had always ended with him running into her arms and calling her ‘Mummy', in reality she knew there was no chance he would remember her. After all, he was only two months old when he was taken from her. But their bond had been so strong once, she knew it would rebuild over time. Her years of working as a teacher had taught her that kids form bonds quickly. She knew she just needed to be patient with him and not force the relationship.

‘I think he'll be okay,' Diana said. ‘He's still so young. I can't let myself get upset about him not remembering me. I just have to try to forget that the past twenty-one months happened.'

‘That sounds like a very wise thing to do,' Sergeant Thomas said. ‘And Social Services can help you with the transition, so make sure you speak to them if you need to.' He gestured towards the woman sitting in the living room. ‘Ruth's very good. She's been looking after Noah since we picked him up this morning.'

‘How's he been? It must have been a traumatic day for him.'

‘Ruth said he's coping well. He's a resilient little thing.'

Diana set her empty coffee cup down on the kitchen bench. ‘I need to ask you something, before Liam gets home.'

‘Of course, what is it?'

‘Did you see him?'

‘Did I see who?'

‘The man who took Noah from me. Did you meet him? Do you know why he took him?'

Sergeant Thomas looked uncomfortable. ‘Do you really want to talk about that now? This should be a happy time for you.'

‘I really want to know now.'

‘Some of my guys are questioning him. I'm heading back to the station now.'