Stranger Child (6 page)

Tasha dropped her head. Her hair fell forwards to cover her face, but Emma was sure she had glimpsed what looked like tears in the girl’s eyes. She made a noise that sounded like a hiss.

‘Hey,’ Emma said, ‘it’s okay, Tasha. They just didn’t know who it was, and the girl was about your age so they wanted to check with your dad. That’s all.’

Tasha didn’t look up.

‘Tasha, what is it, darling?’ David said, standing up and moving towards her.

As he leaned forwards to put his arm gently round her shoulders, Tasha threw herself to one side.

‘Don’t
touch
me,’ she said. She kept her body angled stiffly away from her father until he withdrew his arm. If there had been tears in her eyes, there was no trace of them now.

Emma felt David’s hurt as if it was her own, but her biggest concern was Ollie. He shouldn’t be here for this. He looked startled for a moment, then his face crumpled and his
mouth turned down as fat tears slid down his flushed cheeks. He should have been in bed ages ago, but Emma hadn’t wanted to be separated from him even for a moment.

‘Tasha, I’m really sorry that you’re upset, but I am going to have to take Ollie out of here. All of this is so distressing for him and he’s not coping well. He looks feverish. I won’t call the police. Okay? Not until we’ve worked things through with you. I promise – and I don’t break promises.’

Without waiting for anybody’s permission, Emma lifted Ollie from his chair and pulled him close.

‘Come on, little man. Let’s get you all snuggled up in your cot. It’s okay. Shhh, sweetheart.’ Emma kissed his hot skin.

As she turned towards the door, Tasha jumped up.

‘I’m coming,’ she said.

Emma was about to object, but one look at Tasha’s face and she knew she couldn’t. The girl was determined to follow her. Emma shook off her anxiety and told herself Tasha was just a child.

What would Caroline do?

‘Why don’t we all go? We can show you where you’re going to be sleeping, and you can have a look round with your dad while I get Ollie settled.’

‘Good idea,’ David said, seemingly grateful to be doing something that gave Tasha’s presence a sense of permanence.

There was one tricky moment when they reached the top of the stairs. The spare room where Natasha would be sleeping was the first door on the right, but when Emma opened it with a smile, saying, ‘Here you are, Natasha,’ the girl walked straight past her and along to the next room – now Ollie’s. She pushed the door ajar and stood still – looking in.

David ran his hand through his hair again, his face etched with guilt. ‘We should have put Ollie somewhere else – left her room as it was,’ he whispered. ‘That was a mistake, Em. She’s going to feel that I’d forgotten her.’

Emma said nothing. That was so typical of David. Instead of giving his daughter a rational explanation for the change of bedroom, he would be worried about whether she resented it – resented him.

Now wasn’t the time to argue, so she spoke to Natasha.

‘That’s Ollie’s room now, love. Go in and have a look if you like, but it’s a bit small for a teenager, so this will be your room. We can change it, of course, but it’s got a double bed and it’s a much bigger room. What do you think?’

Natasha turned back towards them, her face expressionless, walked into her room and closed the bedroom door.

*

By bedtime, Natasha had still not reappeared. David had knocked on the door to tell her that they were having dinner if she would like some, but she hadn’t answered him. Emma had gone up herself ten minutes later. She had tried the door, worried that Natasha was in there alone and would undoubtedly be distressed by all that had happened. She was only thirteen after all. But something was pushed hard against the door and it wouldn’t budge.

Emma imagined Tasha curled up on the bed, confused and upset, and felt her heart break for the girl.

‘Tasha, please let me in, or at least let me know you’re okay.’

As she had expected, there was no response. What if Tasha had gone? Could she have climbed out of the window? Emma didn’t think so, but what if she had harmed herself in some way?

‘Natasha, if you don’t open this door or speak to me, I’m going to have to get your dad to force his way in – either through the door or if necessary through the window. Now, tell me that you’re okay.’

‘Go
away
,’ came the shout from inside.

‘Okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to know that you’re not ill or anything. I know this must be incredibly hard, Tasha – we want to help you. Shall I bring you some food if you don’t feel like coming down?’

‘I told you to go
away
.’ No longer a shout, there was a level of determination in the tone that brooked no argument.

Emma had rested her forehead against the door. She had no idea what to do, and Tasha still hadn’t told them why she was prepared to run away again if they called the police.

‘Okay, I’m going to go downstairs. If you want to have some dinner, it’s steak pie and roast potatoes.’

David had eaten his dinner in silence, disappointment that Tasha hadn’t joined them evident in his expression, and Emma could find no words to comfort him that didn’t sound
like empty platitudes. How could she possibly understand how he was feeling? His ready smile had seemed like a distant memory tonight, and she wanted to share his pain, joy and confusion. But she couldn’t reach him. He was somewhere else – somewhere that excluded her.

One thing she did know, though. Something was very wrong about all of this. Why wouldn’t Tasha tell them where she had been living? Why was she frightened of the police?

Emma had no answers, and after they had finished dinner and cleared up she had taken a slice of chocolate cake and a large glass of milk and left them outside Tasha’s door.

She wanted to tell David that tomorrow she was going to call the police, whether Tasha liked it or not. Somebody had kept her from her family for all this time, and there was no guarantee that she was the only one. What if there were other girls like her, hidden away from their families? And how had she got back? They were two miles from the nearest town, and there were no buses.

Emma couldn’t help feeling they weren’t asking the right questions.

‘Let’s go up,’ Emma said quietly, reaching for David’s hand.

He gently pulled away.

‘Do you mind if I stay downstairs for a while, Em? I’m going to pour a brandy and have a few moments. Is that okay?’

Emma was sure that David needed time to think about Caroline too, and she couldn’t blame him for that, today of all days.

‘Of course. I’ll still be awake when you come to bed if you want to talk some more.’

He kissed her gently on the lips and she turned to make her way upstairs.

As she passed Tasha’s bedroom, she was disappointed to see that the cake and milk were still sitting on the small table on the landing, but to her surprise the door was slightly ajar. She knocked quietly.

‘Tasha,’ she said in little more than a whisper in case the girl was asleep. There was no response. She pushed the door a little wider to check that her new stepdaughter was okay. The room was empty.

Emma spun round. The door to the bathroom stood wide open; she was clearly not in there. And there was something else. The door to Ollie’s room was closed. It was
never
closed.

She flew along the landing and flung open the door to his room. The nightlight cast faint images of stars, bubbles and fish around the room, projecting a pale green light on the dark walls – and over the figure standing at the end of Ollie’s cot, leaning in towards him.

10

Day Two

The sky outside Ollie’s bedroom window was bright with morning sunshine, although rainclouds were already gathering, their brooding darkness hovering malevolently on the horizon.

Emma stared sightlessly at the garden. Today was going to be a better day, she decided, even though her body felt heavy and lethargic after little sleep. But she was going to have to fight that. Her family needed her.

She had spent the night on a chair in Ollie’s room, terrified to leave him alone. At least she had started the night on the chair. In the end, though, she had stretched herself out on the rug in front of his cot. If she fell asleep, she didn’t want anybody getting past her, getting to her baby.

When she had found Tasha leaning over his cot the night before she had screamed at the girl in her fear. ‘What are you doing? Why are you in here?’

Natasha had stared at her without moving for a few moments – her eyes blank. Then she had pushed past Emma and walked calmly back to her own room, where she had barricaded herself in again. For the rest of the night, Emma had been alert to the slightest sound, but there had been no repetition of that terrifying moment, and her baby had slept peacefully until a few moments ago.

Emma turned to pick up Ollie out of his cot and took him over to the window seat, cuddling his warm little body to her. She wrapped her arms a bit tighter around her son and kissed the top of his head. What would he be making of all this? Ollie was used to a life free from tension but now he could probably sense his mother’s anxiety, seeping from her pores. Emma felt tears starting to leak from her eyes again and shook herself crossly. Getting upset wasn’t going to help anyone.

She forced her shoulders down, waggled her toes in an effort to relax the muscles in her legs and took some deep breaths.

‘Be positive,’ she whispered.

Despite the events of the night before, she had to try to act as if nothing had happened. She was sure she had panicked unnecessarily. Probably the girl had simply wanted to look at her little brother. Emma needed to make things right – for everybody’s sake.

She pushed herself off the window seat and carried Ollie in his pyjamas towards the stairs. ‘So what’s today going to bring, my little Ollie?’ she said, giving him her best smile.

She paused outside Natasha’s door and knocked.

‘Tasha, Ollie and I are going downstairs for breakfast. Your dad’s in the shower. Do you want some scrambled eggs?’

She waited in silence and was surprised when the door opened and Natasha came out. Seeing her wearing exactly what she had worn the day before reminded Emma that she needed to buy some clothes for the girl, and maybe a few things to brighten up her bedroom.

Natasha’s face was blank, but her eyes were tired and bloodshot. Had she been crying?

And it’s my fault. It’s because I shouted at her
. Emma felt a rush of blood to her cheeks and turned towards Ollie to mask her guilty confusion.

‘Say good morning to Tasha, Ollie.’

‘Tassa, Tassa, ay, ay,’ Ollie said, beaming at his half-sister and waving his arms in the air. She looked away.

Emma felt her brows knitting together in a frown at the girl’s indifference and forced herself to act naturally as she led the way into the kitchen.

‘Sorry – he can’t make a
sh
sound yet. Okay – juice for Ollie, and I guess you would like some too,’ Emma said, deciding that for now the best policy was not to demand a response.

She poured juice into Ollie’s beaker and some into a glass for Natasha.

‘Go and sit down at the table, Tasha. I’ll bring your breakfast over when it’s ready.’

She turned to the fridge, took out some eggs and pushed two slices of bread into the toaster, working entirely on autopilot, her mind elsewhere.

Emma had spoken to David about the police again, and she had finally managed to convince him to call them. When he had first woken up, David had asked where she’d been all night. She knew if she told him the truth about why she slept in Ollie’s room he would
have said she was overreacting, so she told him she was worried about Ollie having a temperature, and it seemed easier than disturbing David every time she got up to check on their son.

It was a lie. She had never lied to her husband before.

She felt Tasha’s eyes on her and somehow got the feeling that the girl could read her every thought. Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she hated Emma with every cell in her body. Did she resent her for taking her mother’s place? Emma felt a shiver run down her spine. If she despised them so much, why was she here?

David chose that moment to walk into the kitchen, trying his best to raise a cheery smile, and went straight to Natasha.

‘Hello, darling,’ he said, beaming at her. ‘It’s lovely to see you up and having breakfast. Did you sleep well?’ He put his arm round her shoulders, pulling her gently towards him so he could kiss the top of her head. Natasha resisted with all her strength, and when David released her the force of her resistance caused her to tumble slightly to the side, her arm sending her glass of juice flying.

Natasha jumped up from the table.

‘Stop touching me,’ she said quietly, her eyes burning and her jaw clenched. ‘I don’t like it.’ Kicking the chair viciously to one side, she left the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

Emma didn’t know what to do, but she couldn’t bear to see the pain in David’s eyes. She knew that he was suffocating the girl, but could she blame him? She waited a few moments.

‘Shall I go and get her?’ she asked, keeping her voice low and even. ‘We promised not to contact the police without telling her, but it’s going to look really bad if we don’t. What do you want to do, love?’

David shook his head.

‘You’re right, of course. I’ll go and tell her. But I’m going to lock the front door so if she decides to run she’ll have to come through here. And I’ll stop her. I don’t know what else to do, but I can’t lose her again now.’

11

The incident room was humming when Tom arrived. Becky appeared to have everything under control and the press had now been briefed about the discovery of the young girl’s body. Detective Superintendent Philippa Stanley had decided to be the spokesperson. Tom wasn’t surprised. Philippa was very keen on raising her public profile, and she was welcome to it as far as Tom was concerned.

He knew what would happen now. All those children that hadn’t been reported missing would become top priority in their parents’ eyes, the belief that their daughter would come home ‘when she’s ready’ suddenly not being quite such a sure thing.