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The rest of the day disappeared in keeping Robbie amused, housework and then preparing dinner. Ben was late home, tired, and had to catch an early train in the morning. They watched the news, although there was nothing more about the animals in Coleshaw Woods and Emily didn’t mention it again.
The following morning she kissed Ben goodbye and saw him off at the door in her dressing gown, grateful that she didn’t have to leave for work on a cold frosty morning. It was only when Robbie had his lunchtime nap that Emily was able to use the phone again uninterrupted. She called the number she’d been given by the officer the day before and this time it didn’t go through to answerphone but call waiting. She was third in the queue. Her initial enthusiasm for trying to find out if Tibs could be among the animals in Coleshaw Woods was waning and she wondered if she was wasting police time – phoning about a missing cat when they would have many other more important crimes to solve. When it was finally her turn, she began with an apology. ‘I’m sorry, this is probably nothing, but my cat is missing. I saw the news report about the animals found in Coleshaw Woods and was given this number to phone.’
‘Yes, your name please,’ the officer said with resignation.
‘Emily King.’
‘And your address and telephone number? We’re keeping details of all those who’ve phoned in.’
‘So others have contacted you with missing pets?’
‘Yes, hundreds,’ he sighed. ‘From all over the country.’
She gave him her contact details.
‘And a description of your cat please, although I should say we won’t be able to match owners to their pets.’
‘So they are definitely pets?’ Emily asked.
‘It seems likely.’
‘They haven’t come from a lab?’
‘No. Would you like to leave a description of your cat?’ he asked, a little impatiently.
‘Yes. Sorry. She was four years old, a brown tabby, spayed. She used to wear a collar with my mobile phone number on, but that was returned to me.’
‘So why do you think your cat might be among those in Coleshaw Woods?’
‘She’s vanished without trace. Were any of the cats microchipped? Tibs was.’
‘We believe some were, yes.’
Her heart missed a beat. ‘Have you contacted the owners?’
‘No. The microchips were cut out from the animals.’
‘What?’ she gasped. ‘Cut out? Why?’
‘Presumably to stop identification.’
‘Oh my God. That’s horrible.’ She thought she was going to be sick. ‘So I’ll never know if Tibs was one of them?’
‘It’s unlikely.’
She took a deep breath. ‘How long had they been dead?’
‘Varying lengths of time, but some quite recent. I’ve noted your details and someone will be in touch if we have any news. But, as I said, it’s unlikely we will be able to match the animals to their owners.’
‘Has anyone else had their pet’s collar returned to them?’ Emily asked.
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘So perhaps Tibs isn’t among them.’
‘I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s impossible for me to say.’ And with a polite goodbye he ended the call.
Emily told herself that Tibs wasn’t one of the cats dumped in Coleshaw Woods, for the alternative – that she had died as part of a sadistic ritual and her microchip had been cut out – was too awful to contemplate. No, Tibs was dead, probably run over when her collar had become detached, as Ben had said.
That night, she put Tibs’ food bowl and bed in a bag in the garage where they stored items they no longer needed but couldn’t bear to get rid of.
Chapter Fourteen (#ulink_43c62941-da6a-51b8-a710-946b8bdaaa12)
Generally, Emily was enjoying her extended maternity leave, she thought, although it was essential to get out of the house with Robbie each day, otherwise he grew fractious and she developed cabin fever. Even now winter was setting in, she wrapped him up warm and they went out. The fresh air, exercise and change of scenery did them both good. Sometimes she met up with friends, other times, if the weather was fine, she took Robbie to the local playground, where he chuckled loudly as she pushed him in the baby swings and enjoyed playing on the apparatus for very young children.
Christmas was only three weeks away and Emily was also visiting the shops in the high street more to buy gifts. She was looking forward to Christmas but with a little trepidation as this would be the first time she was hosting Christmas dinner for both sets of parents. She wanted it to be perfect: the table laid with the festive linen tablecloth she’d bought, silver pine place mats, matching table centrepiece, turkey with all the trimmings. It was a huge operation and she had numerous lists of what to buy and when. She and Ben were also throwing a drinks party for their friends the Saturday before Christmas – homemade canapés, sweet mince pies and mulled wine. It would be their best Christmas ever!
Returning from the high street with yet more shopping, the pushchair was loaded with bags. They’d been to the park first and Robbie was exhausted and reasonably happy to sit in his pushchair rather than wanting to walk, which took forever. Emily turned into their road and glanced at the houses they passed. Like theirs, most of the houses in the street were decorated ready for Christmas, many with a Christmas tree in their front room window, festooned with baubles and fairy lights. Some had really gone to town – even over the top – with model reindeer, Santas on sleighs and illuminated snow scenes in their front gardens. Sometimes, less was more, Emily thought as she continued looking at the houses.
It had come as no surprise that the Burmans’ house wasn’t showing any signs of the festive season. It was possible they didn’t celebrate Christmas, Emily acknowledged, although it seemed more likely they just didn’t want to. She doubted Dr Burman had any Christmas spirit in him – definitely a bah-humbug type of person. Dour and sour. And, of course, Alisha, being ill, couldn’t make the effort by herself. Emily hadn’t seen Alisha since her fifteen-minute visit and had only caught glimpses of the doctor going in and out of his house and shed. She thought Alisha might have been a very different person without him, but then again she was ill and he seemed to take care of her, so she shouldn’t really criticize.
As she passed their house, she automatically glanced over as she had the others in the street. But the glimpse between the trees and high evergreen shrubs showed the same gloomy front with blacked-out windows. It was a sad-looking house, even more so now many of their neighbours’ houses were gaily decorated. The sadness inside seemed to seep out, bleed through the walls, Emily thought and hurried by. She was pleased to turn into their drive with its warmth of fairly lights draped under the eaves and sparkling through the glass panel of their front door. She switched the lights on when she got up in the morning and they stayed on until she and Ben went to bed. Having gone to all the trouble of putting them up, she wanted to make the most of them. Their house looked welcoming and, with a frisson of excitement, she took her keys from her coat pocket and unlocked the front door. Closer to Christmas – so they would still be fresh on the big day – she was going to buy a Christmas planter with seasonal flowers and set it just to the right of the front door. The finishing touch.
Her key in the lock, she suddenly stopped, senses alert. She thought she’d heard a child cry from next door – from the Burmans’ house? She must have been mistaken. They didn’t have any children, nor had she ever seen any visitors. Perhaps it was the television or radio, although she’d never heard any noise come from their house before. The windows were always closed, even in summer, and they never used their garden. She pushed open her front door and was about to go in but stopped.
There it was again. It sounded like an older child, not a baby, a girl, and it had definitely come from the Burmans’ house. It didn’t sound like a radio or television. Could they have visitors? It would be a first, as far as she was aware. But why was the child crying? Was she upset? It was a distressing cry, no words spoken, a shriek, animal-like and intense. It made her blood run cold. What should she do?
Emily stood still for a moment, torn between ignoring the crying child and continuing indoors, or going next door and asking if everything was all right. Dr Burman wasn’t home, his car wasn’t on the drive where he kept it, and there were no other cars there suggesting visitors. She knew what Ben would have said – mind your own business and go indoors. Her head agreed with him, while her heart told her something wasn’t right. A child in distress in a house where there were no children and the woman was unwell. Since she’d had a child of her own, Emily was more sensitive to the cries of children, especially if they were upset. It was as if something had been switched on when her milk had come in – a primeval need to protect children which was too strong to ignore.
Closing her front door, she dropped her keys into her coat pocket and wheeled the pushchair to their boundary fence. Robbie, wanting to be home, protested. ‘We won’t be long, little man,’ she said, her voice tight.
From her side of the fence, she looked down the Burmans’ sideway and up at their house – to where the cries seemed to have come from. It was quiet now, but a small fan-like window on the upper floor was slightly open, which was unusual. Emily didn’t know which room the window was in as all the houses in the street were different. As she looked, the cry came again, followed by Alisha’s voice, high-pitched and distressed, ‘Oh my God! I’m trying to help you!’
Emily stayed where she was, her unease building. What was going on? Who was Alisha talking to and why was the child upset? Surely, she wasn’t a guest? It had gone quiet again now and it crossed her mind to call up – ‘Is everything all right?’ – but the child screamed and the decision was made.
Quickly turning the pushchair round, Emily hurried back down her drive then up the Burmans’, trying to convince herself there was a rational explanation for what she’d heard. But what rational explanation there could be escaped her. Better to look a fool than ignore a tragedy, she told herself. If she’d known the Burmans better, she could have made a more informed decision. Now she acted on instinct. She pressed the bell on their entry system as the camera focused on the porch watched her. Robbie struggled to get out. ‘We won’t be long,’ she reassured him again.
She waited. Perhaps no one would answer. Then what would she do? Return home and try to forget it? Impossible. Things heard cannot be unheard, and she knew she’d worry about this until she found out that Alisha and the child were all right. Perhaps she should call the police? And say what? That she’d heard a child crying next door, but the woman who lived there didn’t have a child and was ill? Wouldn’t they suggest she might have a visitor? Perhaps she should go home, but the desperation she’d heard in Alisha’s voice told her to stay.
The door suddenly opened and Alisha stood before her, distraught. ‘Thank goodness. I need your help. Come in.’
‘Is something wrong?’ Emily asked.
‘Yes. Come quickly. You must help me, but never tell anyone what you see.’
Emily stopped, fear gripping her. ‘Why not? What’s going on?’
‘Come quickly. You’ll see. This way.’
Emily pushed the stroller into the hall as Alisha began upstairs. She glanced at Robbie, wondering if it was safe to leave him alone in the hall, but the child above cried out again, even more distressed.
‘Please come now,’ Alisha nearly begged.
Glancing at Robbie, Emily ran up the stairs behind Alisha and then followed her into a room at the side of the house. It was a bathroom, adapted for disabled use. Alisha was going to a bundle on the floor, something wrapped in a towel and wedged between the side of the bath and the hand basin. The cry came again from the bundle, like a trapped animal, and Emily realized it was a child. But not like any child she’d seen. She remained where she stood as Alisha knelt beside her. No child should ever look like that.
Chapter Fifteen (#ulink_b7b2dd64-fd8c-5946-9132-eb09849d20bb)
‘Please help,’ Alisha said. ‘She won’t hurt you.’
Emily pulled herself together, crossed the bathroom and knelt beside Alisha.
‘If you take that side,’ Alisha said, ‘we can hopefully move her onto her side and be able to slide her out.’ Emily did as Alisha directed and together they released the child from where she’d become trapped. She moaned.
‘It’s OK,’ Alisha soothed, stroking her forehead. ‘We’re going to sit you up now.’
Emily tried to concentrate on what she was doing and not look at the child’s deformities. Together, they eased her into a sitting position. One claw-like hand tightened on Emily’s arm and she tensed. There is nothing to be frightened of, she told herself. She’s a child.
Alisha quickly drew the girl’s bathrobe around her. She whimpered again. ‘It’s all right, you’re not hurt,’ she reassured her. Then to Emily, ‘I need to get her into that wheelchair. That’s what I was trying to do when the hoist broke. I can’t lift her alone.’
Alisha pulled the wheelchair closer and Emily helped draw the child upright and then into the wheelchair.
‘Thank goodness,’ Alisha sighed and carefully set the child’s feet on the footplate. It was clear the child’s wasted legs would never be able to carry her weight even though she was thin. Her small blue eyes were set too far apart in her enormously swollen forehead, giving the poor child a bulbous appearance as though she was top-heavy.
‘Naughty Daddy,’ Alisha said as she made the child comfortable. ‘I told him the hoist needed looking at.’
‘Daddy?’ Emily repeated numbly.
‘Yes, this is our daughter, Eva.’
‘Your daughter. But …’
‘I know. Don’t tell anyone, please.’
Downstairs in the hall, Robbie began to cry. ‘I need to go,’ Emily said.
‘Don’t go until I’ve had a chance to explain,’ Alisha pleaded. ‘See to Robbie but stay until I come down. I won’t be long, just a few minutes while I settle Eva in her room. Take Robbie in the living room. Please wait.’
Emily hesitated.
‘Please, I won’t be long.’
She saw the fear in her eyes. ‘All right. Do you need any help here?’
‘No thank you. Wait for me in the living room.’
‘Mummy!’ Robbie called again from the hall and Emily went downstairs. Releasing him from the harness, she picked him up and held him close.
Alisha had said to wait in the living room. With her heart thumping and her thoughts racing, Emily pushed open the door directly in front that she guessed could be the living room. It was. She carried Robbie in and then sat on the sofa with him on her lap. The house was hot and she undid their coats. She looked around as her heartbeat began to settle. It was an ordinary enough living room with a large black leather sofa, two matching armchairs, a television, bookshelves and a hearth rug. Strangely normal and at odds with whatever else was going on in the house. Through the patio window, she could see the outbuilding where Dr Burman spent so much of his time. Although it was a closer view than the one she had from her bedroom window, it was no more distinctive as the opaque film covering the glass gave everything outside a hazy look.
Robbie agitated to be off her lap and she put him down so he could toddle around. There were no children’s toys in the room, nothing to say there was a child living here at all. Whatever was going on? Alisha had called the child Eva. How old was she? Emily guessed about six or seven, although it was difficult to tell with her disabilities. How had they kept her a secret for so long, and why? She had so many questions, comments and criticisms. The situation was unreal and she wasn’t sure she should stay.
She could hear Alisha moving around upstairs. A child had been living here all this time and she’d had no idea. A secret child hidden away. It was unsettling and worrying. It reminded her of cases that came to light every so often and were reported by the press, when a child or sometimes an adult had been held hostage for years. When interviewed, neighbours always said the same thing: that the couple were quiet, polite and kept themselves to themselves. Wasn’t that exactly what she would have said about the Burmans? Kept themselves to themselves. Their house and their lives cloaked in secrecy. What other secrets did they have? Ben had been dismissive of her concerns, sometimes making fun of her, but she’d been vindicated, proven right. She’d said Amit Burman was odd and had something to hide, and he certainly did – his daughter!
Emily had just decided that it would be better to leave now when she heard footsteps on the stairs.
‘Thank you for waiting,’ Alisha said, coming into the living room. ‘And thank you for your help. Eva is fine, nothing broken, but I couldn’t have managed without you.’ She sat in one of the armchairs and threw Robbie a small smile. She seemed more relaxed now. ‘I am annoyed with Amit. I told him that hoist in the bathroom needed fixing, but he was too busy in his lab last night.’
‘So, Eva is your daughter?’ Emily said, still struggling to believe it.
‘Yes. She has the same genetic condition that I have and that killed my son. The difference is Eva was born with it. The damage was being done while she was in the womb. My son never looked like that, but I love Eva as I loved my son and always try to do my best for her.’
Emily held her gaze. ‘I am sorry. I’d no idea. I mean, I knew you were ill and you’d lost another child, but I’d no idea Eva was living here.’
‘That was our intention. No one knows. Our son spent all his life in and out of hospital. There was nothing they could do to save him. We don’t want the same for Eva. We had to move from our last house because someone passing saw her at the window. News spread that we had a monster in the house. That’s what they used to call her – our pet monster.’
‘That’s dreadful,’ Emily gasped.
‘Yes, yobs would gather outside and throw stones at the windows and push things through our letter box. You understand now why we have all this security?’
‘Yes I do. I can’t have helped by cutting the hedge.’
‘No. But you weren’t to know.’
‘Don’t you have any help? Surely the social services can offer something? Shouldn’t they know?’
‘They offered help a long time ago when Eva was born, but we refused. They will keep wanting to take her into hospital, like they did our son, and it doesn’t do any good. The doctors can’t help. Eva stays upstairs; the main bedroom has been converted for her use. She is comfortable and has everything she needs. It has become more difficult looking after her since I became ill, but I manage.’
‘Do you?’ Emily asked sceptically. ‘Supposing I hadn’t been here today. What would you have done?’
‘Phoned Amit at work. He would be annoyed, but he always comes eventually. I was about to when I saw on the CCTV it was you at the door. I thought I could trust you. I can, can’t I?’ She looked worried.
‘You mean trust me not to tell anyone?’ Emily asked. Alisha nodded. ‘I suppose so, but don’t you ever take her out?’
‘No. She doesn’t need to go out. She has everything she wants upstairs.’
‘But don’t you need to go out?’ Emily persisted, feeling Alisha was a prisoner in her own home. She glanced at Robbie who had his face pressed to the patio window.
‘I can’t leave Eva alone. She was the reason I could only visit you for fifteen minutes. You were so insistent, I felt it was easier to accept your invitation so you wouldn’t keep asking me.’
‘Sorry, I was just trying to be friendly. I’d no idea …’ her voice fell away.
Alisha raised a small smile. ‘It’s fine. I would have liked for us to be friends, but Amit said you’d tell if you found out.’
Emily shrugged. ‘I would probably have told Ben. We share most things.’
‘Please don’t tell him. I don’t want to have to move again and if Amit found out he’d be very angry. He spends every night working in his lab, trying to find a cure, not just for me, but Eva too and others with the same condition. I doubt he will, time is running out, but it has become his obsession. His way of coping.’
Just for a moment Emily felt a pang of guilt that she had judged him so harshly. There were clearly worse obsessions than trying to save your wife and child. She also felt she couldn’t just walk away without offering something. ‘I understand why you don’t go out, so perhaps Robbie and I could come here again to visit you?’
