No Child of Mine (34 page)

Swinging the car out on to the main road, she began heading towards North Hill.

Lies, lies and more lies.

Why couldn’t anyone ever tell the truth, for God’s sake? Her mind flashed back to the union meeting she’d attended on Saturday morning, which inflamed her all over again. What the hell was the point in taking strike action? Who exactly was that going to help? Certainly not the kids who needed them, and not them either, because in case no one had noticed the government wasn’t listening. It was too busy making cuts, cuts and more cuts while pretending to have all the answers, when really all they were doing was
lying
. They were so far out of touch with the families in need that they couldn’t hear those at the bottom mocking and ridiculing their frankly absurd new policies to beat crime, or the wretchedly impoverished crying with hunger as their benefits were slashed, mainly because the policy-makers were too damned busy listening to themselves. And what lies they told, saying they understood how difficult
it was to live on a sink estate without the prospect of a job, government assistance being ripped out from under them and tax credits cancelled. They didn’t have the first idea, stuck up there in their smart London mansions with millions under the mattress, and quantitive easing coming out of every orifice.

It made her so mad,
so damned mad
, that she was ready to storm Downing Street right now. If it weren’t so far away she would. However, she had to make herself calm down, because she was coming very close to North Hill and if she carried on like this she might just find herself tearing into Erica Wade in a way that would frighten poor little Ottilie out of her wits.

And get her taken off Ottilie’s case, which she didn’t want at all.

Mercifully, by the time she drove in through the bramble-snarled gates she had herself in better control, though she certainly wasn’t happy with Brian Wade whom she’d tried – unsuccessfully – to contact again. Knowing from experience how unlikely it was she’d get a response from inside the house unless he was there, she was already holding him responsible for her failure.

However, to her surprise, when she went to ring the bell she found the front door slightly ajar. Not quite sure what to make of this, she pushed the door open and called out hello.

Receiving no reply she stepped into the hall and called out again.

Still no response.

Starting to feel uneasy, she wondered if the wisest course now might be to ring Brian Wade and get him out of his meeting.

‘Mrs Wade,’ she called again. ‘Ottilie? Are you in here?’

Still nothing.

It was always possible, she reminded herself, that Erica Wade had taken Ottilie to the nursery after all, and not realised she’d left the front door open. With this little bolster to her nerves she pushed open the sitting-room door and gave a gasp of surprise when she saw Erica Wade and Ottilie standing side by side in front of the empty hearth –
looking for all the world as though they were waiting for her.

This woman is definitely off her trolley
, Alex was thinking as she forced a smile. ‘Here you are,’ she said, trying to sound cheery as she looked at Ottilie. ‘And there was me thinking no one was at home.’

Ottilie pressed Boots against her chin and looked up at her with big, velvety eyes. She was wearing denim dungarees and trainers under a pale pink anorak.
Who bought her clothes? They were very cute and good quality
. And unless Alex was greatly mistaken, she was dressed to go out. However, her mother didn’t appear to be, so it was difficult to tell what was going on.

‘I’d hoped,’ Alex said to Erica, ‘that you’d keep your word, and take Ottilie to the Pumpkin today.’

Erica Wade looked down at Ottilie. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘It’s time to go.’

Alex watched Ottilie walk forward and come to stand next to her.

‘You can take her,’ Erica Wade said, making it sound like she was doing Alex a favour.

Having been in this situation before, Alex didn’t find it hard to reply, ‘The point is, Mrs Wade, for you to take her, not ...’

‘If you want her to go, then there she is.’

Alex looked down at Ottilie and found her gazing worriedly up at her. What else could she do but smile? ‘You look very smart,’ she told her. ‘Is that a new jacket?’

Ottilie didn’t answer, but her free hand grabbed the collar of the anorak so it seemed she’d understood.

Since she didn’t have much time to argue with Mrs Wade, Alex went down to Ottilie’s height and said, ‘Would you like me to take you to nursery today?’

‘Yes, she would,’ Erica answered for her.

Apparently taking her cue, Ottilie nodded.

Knowing better than to get into a scene with a parent in front of a child, much as she’d have liked to, Alex took Ottilie’s hand and stood up again. ‘Do you have a car seat?’ she asked Erica, making her tone as disapproving as she could without alarming Ottilie.

‘There’s one in the garage,’ Erica told her, appearing unmoved. ‘The door’s not locked.’

Alex glanced down at Ottilie again and smiled at her sweet little face. This child needed friends and an education, and if Alex couldn’t help to give her that then she was very definitely in the wrong job. So, tightening her grip on Ottilie’s hand, she said, ‘I’ll take you today. Is that all right?’

Ottilie nodded.

To Erica, Alex said, ‘Before we go, I want to ask if you know someone by the name of Jill McCarthy.’

As Erica visibly flinched Alex felt herself tense.

‘You do, don’t you?’ she prompted.

Though Erica didn’t answer, Alex could see she’d started to shake. ‘Who is Jill McCarthy?’ she pressed.

In a waspish tone Erica replied, ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about. Now either take the child with you, or leave her here. It’s all the same to me.’

The child
?

Feeling Ottilie’s eyes watching her, Alex said, ‘We need to talk, Mrs Wade, you understand that, don’t you?’

Erica made no response, and not wanting to go any further in front of Ottilie, Alex smiled down at her again as she said, ‘Are you ready?’

Ottilie’s eyes returned to her mother, and this time Alex caught Erica’s nod before she saw Ottilie’s.

Something highly manipulative – and odd – was going on here.

She wasn’t sure if Erica Wade was following them as they left the room, but when she and Ottilie were on the drive she heard the front door close behind them.

Not wasting any more time, Alex opened the garage door, found a child’s seat and minutes later she was strapping Ottilie into the back of her car. Moved by how compliant, and even trusting she was, while concerned by how unperturbed she seemed at leaving her mother, Alex put a finger under her chin and smiled at her. ‘Do you really want to go to nursery?’ she asked softly, having no idea what she’d do if Ottilie said no.

Ottilie’s eyes remained round.

She might not even know what nursery is
, Alex thought sadly.

‘I think you’ll like it,’ Alex told her, injecting her voice with cheer while hoping it turned out to be true. ‘The teachers are very kind and there are lots of children and toys to play with. Does that sound nice?’

Ottilie still said nothing. However, she drew Boots up against her face, which might have been a response of some kind, Alex wasn’t sure. She guessed she’d get to know the more time she spent with her.

It wasn’t far to the Pumpkin, simply up and over the hill, down to the coast road then across Victoria Square towards the station. Throughout the journey Alex kept an eye on Ottilie in the back seat, watching her staring out of the window, seeming to take in everything they were passing, but not exuding much of a response. She wished she knew what was going through her mind, but at least she didn’t seem scared, which had been Alex’s biggest concern, and she didn’t appear particularly fazed either, which suggested that she did indeed get taken out of that house from time to time. At least more than the once Alex had seen her with her father in the park. Presumably her mother never took her anywhere, because after today Alex couldn’t imagine Erica Wade even putting on a coat, never mind setting foot into the great outdoors.

What was Erica Wade doing now? Curiously, worryingly, she hadn’t appeared at all bothered by letting Ottilie go. Was there no bond between them at all?

Still, at least Ottilie’s welfare was in hand now, and after driving round to the car park at the back of the Pumpkin, Alex went to unbuckle her from her seat and lifted her up and out of the car. She was such a tiny scrap of a thing that it was almost impossible not to hug her; however, Alex had no idea at this stage if Ottilie was used to such displays of affection – certainly she hadn’t seen any – and might be frightened by one.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked, putting Ottilie down on the ground and taking her hand. Why did she feel so drawn to this child? What was it about her that seemed to be setting her apart in a way she’d never felt with one of her charges before? It was crazy to think that some greater
force had brought them together, but she couldn’t deny that it was how it felt, and had long before she’d broken up with Jason, so it couldn’t be a strange sort of reaction to that. It was just there, a strong and quiet force at the core of her that seemed, oddly, to belong more to Ottilie than it did to her.

Ottilie was looking around. At her height she wouldn’t be able to see much more than a mass of car tyres and shiny bodywork, while from Alex’s viewpoint there were large, red-brick walls that formed the back of the station, and the old ruin of an arch that led through to the narrowing end of the coast road. She wondered what Ottilie was hearing, the sound of traffic mingling with the cry of gulls? An optimistic ice cream van somewhere in the distance? The jingle of a merry-go-round not too far away? Maybe she was smelling or feeling the salty air on her skin, but she wouldn’t be able to see the way it was creating tiny crystal beads in her wispy hair.

As they started towards the arch Alex wondered how well Ottilie had been prepared for what was about to happen, and worried that she hadn’t been at all, or in a way that was going to cause some problems, she said, ‘The boys and girls at the Pumpkin are all very friendly, you know, and Janet, who’s in charge, is really looking forward to meeting you. I’ve told her what a lovely girl you are, and I think you’ll really like her too.’

As she glanced down at Ottilie, Ottilie looked up and Alex’s heart flooded with feeling. ‘Oh look,’ she said, pointing as they walked out on to the coast road, ‘do you see the donkeys over on the beach? They seem a bit sad, don’t they? I’m sure that’s because no one’s riding them today. It’s not the right weather for it though, is it? Too cold and windy. I expect they’ll be taken home to their winter stables soon, don’t you?’

As Ottilie came to a stop, staring at the donkeys, Alex waited with her and found herself caught up in delight as Ottilie suddenly broke into a smile.

‘Do you like donkeys?’ Alex asked, remembering how Brian Wade had told her she was afraid of them.

Ottilie pointed at them.

‘Has Daddy taken you for a ride on them?’

Ottilie was still pointing, but then she turned to look out along the headland to where the tide was flying off the cliffs in flurries of spray and a few hardy hikers were like stick men in the distance. She turned back suddenly as the music of a carousel started up across the road, and her eyes rounded with awe as it began going round.

‘Have you ever been on one of those?’ Alex asked.

Ottilie didn’t answer.

‘Would you like to have a ride on it?’

Ottilie couldn’t stop staring, apparently entranced by the vision of open-top cars and large pink rabbits, ships with seats and funnels and a tiny gold carriage for a princess. There was only one little boy riding, sitting at the back of a ship and waving each time he passed what looked like his granny.

‘I know,’ Alex said in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘we’ll go and have a look at it after nursery, shall we?’

Ottilie barely blinked; it wasn’t even clear if she’d heard.

‘Come on,’ Alex said, gently tugging her along the road to where the Pumpkin’s colourful sign was displayed over a wide, lavender-blue door. ‘There are going to be lots of things to play with inside.’

Though Ottilie followed, she kept glancing over her shoulder until a cheery voice caught her attention, and she looked up to find Janet already at the door to meet them.

‘I’m guessing this is Ottilie,’ Janet declared happily. Her rosy cheeks and sky-blue eyes were as warm as her smile, while her chalk-stained clothes and paint-spattered arms showed just how hands-on she was with her little brood. ‘You’ve come at just the right time,’ she told Ottilie, ‘because we’re about to have a story. Do you like stories?’

Ottilie pulled back slightly, so Alex stooped to her height and put an arm around her. ‘I think you do, don’t you?’ she whispered.

‘I wonder if you have a favourite,’ Janet said, tilting her head to one side as though trying to guess. ‘Or maybe this little one does,’ she ventured, looking at Boots. ‘Are you going to tell me his name?’

Ottilie didn’t answer.

‘I’m sure he’s got one, and I’ll bet it’s Paddington.’

Ottilie’s throaty little voice was barely audible as she said, ‘Boots.’

Alex’s heart contracted with surprise and pleasure as Janet beamed. ‘Of course,’ Janet cried. ‘Because he has some very smart boots. He’s a lucky bear is all I can say, because I’d love some boots like that, wouldn’t you?’

Ottilie managed the hint of a nod.

Filling up with pride, Alex said, ‘Shall we go into the warm now and take off your coat before you join the others?’

As Ottilie lifted Boots to her face, Alex guessed that might be a no.

‘OK, we’ll leave your coat on for now,’ she said, choosing to ignore the possibility that Ottilie might not want to go in.

‘Come along then,’ Janet encouraged, holding out a hand to take Ottilie’s. ‘Let’s see if we can find everyone else.’

Ottilie stayed where she was, gripping tightly to Alex’s hand, so Alex led her through to the large, brightly lit playroom where twenty or more children were building, shouting, crayoning, elbowing, throwing sponge balls, or in one dear little soul’s case singing at the top of his voice into a toy microphone. Like any nursery, the walls were covered in abstract drawings and vividly coloured posters, while the floor was all mapped out for a myriad of different games. There were a dozen or more bright red tables with matching chairs currently pushed up against one wall, a rainbow of vast bouncy cushions, toys galore and boxes upon boxes of children’s games.