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It was the woman who answered. Her voice was sharp and what Holly’s Aunt Lydia would certainly call a bit posh. ‘No. As I’m sure you’ve been told he is still in a critical condition.’
Holly was still struggling to get her head around the accident, let alone the fact she had, somewhere between leaving the road and waking up in the woods, acquired another child. Someone had given her a child. Now this man, with his cool grey eyes and air of officialdom, was back in her life, and suddenly, as other memories stirred it was all she could do to prevent herself from bursting into tears. The DI still hadn’t met her eyes. ‘What about the driver who was behind me, or the idiot in the van who drove right at us?’ she asked quickly.
DI Harper exchanged a quick look with his colleague. ‘Obviously there are no cameras after the Mill Road turn-off, and several vehicles followed you off at Junction 10, but we have no way of telling if any of them took the first exit, as you did. There is also the possibility that the driver behind you joined Mill Road later on, from either Hill Lane or Silver Lane. I do appreciate it must have been hard, but the vague description you gave us of both vehicles doesn’t give us much to go on.’
‘It was dark, and pouring with rain, and I was afraid I was about to be carjacked. You try memorising details in that situation,’ she shot back at him, a flare of confidence returning. The other police officer raised her eyebrows at this show of anger, but said nothing.
‘I’m not trying to insult your intelligence, I’m just telling you we are examining every possibility,’ he said. There was a flash of something that might have been amusement in his grey eyes, before his expression returned its usual sombre mask.
He was still fucking annoying, Holly thought, remembering suddenly that he inserted the word ‘possibility’ into just about every sentence. Nothing was ever ‘confirmed’, or ‘definite’, with him.
‘Moving on, you already mentioned when you were interviewed last night that you have no idea how this other boy came to be in your car. We have checked he doesn’t match the description of any missing children in the local area, but we are circulating his details further afield. Obviously a missing child generates an extensive search operation and we are working in close contact with our neighbouring forces.’ DC Marriot was scrolling through her iPad. ‘We did receive another call to the ambulance service at 17.22. It was a male caller who said he had just driven past a crashed car. He gave your location, but said he didn’t know how many people were involved. He then rang off. The phone number was untraceable.’
‘You think that was the driver behind me?’ Holly said, confusion making her brain heavy, her thoughts sluggish.
DI Harper frowned. ‘At this stage we aren’t sure. Your call came in at 17.31. It is a possibility that the initial caller wasn’t involved at all. Do you recall anything unusual about the afternoon? Anyone who might have been at your son’s rugby game who wasn’t usually there? Or perhaps someone who might have spoken to you when you stopped for petrol?’
‘No! Do you think I haven’t been going over and over this all night? I have no idea how that child came to be in my car and, to be honest, it hasn’t been the best of nights. I’m sure you can understand that.’ She was glaring at the DI now, willing him to react, but he kept his eyes averted.
‘Try to think. I appreciate how distressing this must have been for you,’ DC Marriot said, her voice soothing. She had a slightly pointed face, and small pointed ears, like a pixie. Her make-up was immaculate.
Holly scowled, but allowed her mind to run back over the events of yesterday. ‘Milo always has rugby practice on a Sunday in the winter. Unless they have an away match, it’s always at Prince Edward’s park from two till four. It ran on a bit yesterday because one of the coaches was late, and then I had a coffee afterwards whilst Milo played in the clubhouse with his friends.’
‘So you left rugby at four-thirty, you said?’
‘Yes … I think so, because I remember hoping I wouldn’t catch the rush-hour traffic, and then realising it was Sunday so I didn’t have to panic.’ She managed a weak smile. ‘We stopped for petrol at the next service station. I know the route well, and I often stop there for fuel and groceries.’
‘Did you speak to anyone in the services, notice anyone paying you particular attention?’ DC Marriot pressed her.
She shook her head. ‘No. It was just normal, quite busy but normal.’
‘Now just to recap – you didn’t stop at all when you left the motorway? You didn’t pick up any hitchhikers or see anyone on the side of the road?’
Holly shot him a look of disbelief. ‘Don’t you think I would have mentioned that? Of course I didn’t see anyone else! Everything seemed to happen at once – the deer and Milo shouting, and the headlights of the car behind … I was just so scared.’ Her hands were shaking again as her mind replayed the moment they had left the tarmac, tumbling down the hill.
They watched her some more, clearly waiting, but Holly had no more to say. Actually, she felt a twist of nausea rising in her stomach. It was just too weird. She felt a sudden urge to go back to ICU and reassure herself the boy was still there, still alive … Who the hell was the tailgating driver, and more to the point who was the child who had been left, unconscious and injured?
DI Harper gave a barely imperceptible sigh. ‘We spoke to your husband …’
‘Ex-husband,’ Holly corrected wearily.
‘Sorry, ex-husband. Obviously he is away at the moment, but there is a possibility he might be able to help with our inquiries. He may recognise the child, perhaps.’
Holly looked up, nausea fading away, as anger returned. ‘Tom hasn’t got a clue who Milo sees, or who I see. He’s the last person who would be any help. When I phoned him about the accident he just assumed it was my fault, and as soon as he heard Milo was given the all clear, he said he would carry on with his lecture tour. He’ll pitch up in a couple of days, I expect.’
They both looked hard at her, and Holly squirmed. Too much information, but she was so fatigued that her mouth was running away with her. DC Marriot spoke again. ‘Mrs Kendal, can you think of anyone at all who you might have spoken to recently, who may have been connected with this child?’
‘No!’ She was surprised how insistent they were being. ‘I’ve been back to look at the poor boy and I keep trying and trying to think if I recognise him, but I don’t. I’m not saying I haven’t ever seen him before, but he’s just another kid. He might have been at rugby that afternoon, or karate last week, or even in the queue in Tesco last month, but I can’t say for sure!’ She was getting agitated, raising her voice, breathing heavily, and they were watching her warily.
‘Thank you, Mrs Kendal.’ The woman police officer nodded politely now, but her eyes remained on Holly’s face. She placed her iPad carefully on the table next to Holly. ‘Can I show you something? This is CCTV footage from the BP station where you stopped on your way home.’
Bewildered, Holly leaned over, focusing on the grainy picture. She saw herself and Milo in the long queue, waiting to pay, then a man approaching the empty till at the bakery. He glanced over at her, and she frowned. Something about the tilt of his head, his profile, was familiar. In the footage she was fumbling with her credit card. She remembered the contactless hadn’t worked so the transaction had to go through again.
The place was busy, but amongst the crowd, the camera picked out Holly and Milo leaving, with the man fairly close behind.
‘And then this is the CCTV next to the toilets,’ DI Harper said, scrolling across the screen.
The man was standing, smoking, half facing the wall, apparently waiting in the queue for the toilets. Holly’s heart thumped painfully hard against her ribs, and her head was spinning.
‘Do you recognise him?’ DC Marriot asked.
Holly swallowed hard, her heart beating uncomfortably hard as a shot of adrenalin coursed around her body. It had been years, but of course she knew who he was. He was part of the past, the same past that had killed her brother, her mother, and had been bathed in bloodshed because of who she was. Her voice cracked with emotion. ‘That’s Devril Mancini.’
Chapter 3 (#ulink_f0e1e998-aa68-57f6-8335-4096368d6725)
‘We believe so,’ DC Marriot said. Her voice was cool and slightly mechanical in its reassurance, as she noted Holly’s reaction.
DI Harper was watching her closely now. ‘Have you had any contact with Devril since the trial?’ There it was. Bang, the past hitting them full on with him staring right at her.
Holly found her hands were shaking like she was back in the courtroom, waiting for the assembled crowd to hear her crimes. ‘No.’
‘Really? Not in eleven years?’ He was clearly sceptical. But then he would be. Harper had stalked their family her whole life.
Holly tried to speak, but her throat was tight and raw, and her eyes stung with tears. She cleared her throat, annoyed at betraying so much emotion. ‘None. You know exactly what happened and why I wouldn’t ever want to go back. I moved on, went to university, got married and had a kid. There would never be a reason to go back. But just for the record, do you really think Devril would have tried to run me off the road?’
‘We’re not saying that all. I’m just pointing out that he was at the garage at the same time you and Milo stopped for petrol on your way home. And as far as I know, he’s been away from the area a long time. It seems a strange coincidence for him to show up again now after all these years. I only recognised him because of our connection.’ He was admitting it now at least. ‘I do appreciate that this is difficult, Holly, but you must see that we have to consider all the possibilities.’ The earnest look of concern, that almost paternal voice and the gentle mannerisms could fool anyone without half a brain into thinking he actually cared. ‘You know Niko Balinta was released last month?’
Another ghost emerging from her nightmares. ‘I do know. So what?’ It came out defensive and snappy. She cleared her throat again, picking up the glass of water from the bedside cabinet. Her mouth stung as she sipped. The tiny glass cuts she had acquired in the accident stretched from her lower lip to her forehead. God, she had been so lucky. She glanced at Milo, sleeping soundly. They both had.
DI Harper nodded slowly, and then echoed her words. ‘So what, indeed. Anyway, our primary concern at this moment in time is to find out who the boy is, and why he was in your car, but apart from that … well, I’m keeping an open mind.’
She scowled at him now. ‘You haven’t mentioned Jayden.’
A quick, bright look from under the bushy brows. ‘Do I need to mention your brother? As you say, it would be raking over old and painful ground. You know how sorry I am about the whole affair. I tried so hard to help him.’
‘Fine, but you brought it up. You mentioned Devril and Niko, so clearly you think the boy in my car and the crash are somehow connected to the past. To my past. What is it?’
‘We are following up all the lines of inquiry. As DI Harper says, there is only a possibility that there might be a connection. It may well be, and this does happen as I’m sure you are aware, that we get some more witnesses come forward. Meanwhile, we will be doing everything we can to find out what happened last night,’ DS Marriot said smoothly. She smiled at Holly.
‘Yeah, I’m sure loads of people will come forward if there’s any connection to our family. You know what Seaview Estate’s like, don’t you?’ Holly said incredulously. ‘Us, the Balintas and the Mancinis owned it and everyone on it.’ Then she jabbed a finger in DI Harper’s direction. ‘He knows what happened when the Nicholls came in and took a slice of the action a few years before Mum died. Nobody talked to the police. Ever. Since my dad scaled down and Mason Balinta’s been sick, the Nicholls have properly taken over. The Mancinis are turncoats and they ride with anyone who’s onto a winner – they don’t give a shit which family that is. It’ll make it weird now Niko’s out though. They say his dad hasn’t got long.’ At their look she shrugged. ‘My best friend and my aunt still live on the estate, so I know what’s going on. But I’m not a part of it anymore, and I’m not the same person either. My life has changed, and I have a kid to protect. He knows nothing about any of this, and now isn’t the right time to tell him. When he’s older, maybe …’
DI Harper was watching her intently now. ‘At this stage we are just making inquiries. DC Marriot will be taking the lead on this case, so be sure to contact her if you remember anything else and apologies if I have upset you. You should get some rest now. But of course, if Devril Mancini should be in contact …’
DI Harper pulled out his phone, moving quickly, almost as if he was running away from her. The curtains swished closed behind him. DC Marriot lingered for a moment and passed Holly a business card. ‘If you do think of anything else, Mrs Kendal, you can call me at any time. We’ll be in touch if there is any more news.’ She was still an ice queen with perfect eyeliner, but suddenly there was a small, genuine smile touching her lips.
‘Thanks.’ Holly took the card and put it on the cabinet next to Milo’s bed. The woman hurried to catch up with her superior, and Holly listened to the tap of their shoes as they made their way along the line of beds to the door. Deep in thought now, seeking reassurance, she slid a hand onto the bed and found her son’s, linking their fingers as she had done when he was a baby.
Suddenly her composure shattered, and for the first time since the accident she gave way to proper tears, laying her face on the pillow next to Milo’s to muffle her sobs. Devril Mancini? Bloody hell. It was a long time since he’d left the Seaview. She’d kept tabs on him via social media, telling herself she was just safeguarding her secrets, but she never imagined she’d actually meet him again. Too much history, and too many nightmares lay between them.
Holly hunched further into her chair, wrapping her arms around her body, frowning into space. Memories of Dev, an aching in her heart, were clouded by the fact that he knew what really happened back then, the night of the murder. He was the one person who could make her life worse than it already was. And now he was back.
***
‘Mum?’
She was drifting, drained and uncomfortable in the chair next to his bed, when her son’s voice brought her back to what mattered.
‘Mum, are you okay?’ His face was still pale, and his green eyes were bewildered, but he was sitting up, wincing at the pain.
‘Milo, you need to lie down, love, and I’ll get a nurse,’ Holly said quickly, happy tears hot behind her own eyes. Relief made her dizzy for a second. He was all right; he was actually going to be okay … Nothing else mattered.
‘Why? Don’t go …’
Holly pressed the call button and one of the nurses came over to take Milo’s observations. He scribbled a few notes on the clipboard and then smiled at both of them. ‘Looks fine to me. We’ll need to keep the both of you in for a while, but his obs are normal. Any pain, mate?’
Milo nodded. ‘Only my leg.’
‘Okay, I’ll get you something for that,’ the nurse said. He grinned suddenly. ‘They said you play rugby. I do too. I’m Matt and if you need anything at all, Milo, you just call for me, okay?’
Milo nodded. ‘Okay.’ All his usual bounce and self-confidence was stripped away. He looked younger, more vulnerable, and Holly leant over to hug him gently, stroking his hair back from his forehead. He was so pale his freckles were like a spattering of blood across his upturned nose, and his lips were red and sore.
‘The doctor will be around soon, but in the meantime he can have sips of water if he wants them,’ Matt said.
Holly thanked him. The child in the next bed was suddenly violently sick and Matt hurried away. She looked down at her son, one arm still around him, and he wriggled over and snuggled into the crook of her arm, head on her shoulder, and their fingers entwined.
‘Mum, I’m really sorry.’ His voice was faint.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m sorry you crashed the car. It was my fault, wasn’t it? You looked round at me before the deer jumped out because I called you. If you hadn’t looked round we might have still …’ Tears trickled down his cheeks.
‘Sweetie, you didn’t cause the car crash,’ Holly said hastily. ‘Of course you didn’t. It was a combination of things and bad luck.’ She glanced at him, afraid of traumatising him further.
‘There was the car behind, wasn’t there?’ Milo said thoughtfully. ‘He crashed into us when we swerved to avoid that van, and again before we went down the bank.’
‘Yes.’
‘There was a man too. He was in the woods after we crashed. I think he brought the other boy.’ His voice was dreamy now, and he snuggled further into her.
‘What? A man? Who was he?’ She’d just assumed Milo had been out cold like she’d been. ‘Had you seen him before?’ She couldn’t stop the surprise in her voice, and hastily softened her questions, soothing him. Her mind was buzzing. ‘Milo? Was it someone you had seen before, sweetie?’
The boy paused, his head still on her shoulder, his forehead crinkling as he considered. ‘No, I’ve never seen him before. I couldn’t see much in the car because it was all shadows. I tried to call out for you but you didn’t answer. I was scared and I tried to move but I couldn’t. It felt like I was half sleeping but then he was there and the other boy was next to me. The man smiled at me, and he touched both our faces like this …’ Milo reached up and stroked Holly’s cheek with gentle fingers.
‘He … touched you? Did he say anything?’ She forced herself not to sound too horrified, to keep the conversation going, but her stomach lurched. A man had been there whilst she was unconscious. He had delivered a child to her car. He’d touched Milo’s face. It made no sense at all.
‘No, but he went all round the car and looked at you in the front. He touched your neck.’ He vaguely tapped the area below his jawline.
Jesus. Who was this lunatic? Someone had checked whether she had a pulse, was dead and then they’d vanished? She needed to call DC Marriot, but not in front of her boy. He seemed to be coming out of this okay, and it wouldn’t be fair to scare him further. But as soon as she could …
After Milo had eaten some toast, Holly scrolled through various social media sites and finally pulled up a fairly recent picture of Devril Mancini, snagged from his Instagram page. She had kept an eye on all of them over them over the years, despite cutting herself off from the past. He’d been a personal trainer when they were younger, but now his profiles just said ‘Freelance writer’, which was pretty vague. She found Niko’s Twitter feed. Brand new and with just a few followers. His Instagram feed seemed to consist mostly of jars of sweets. Which was weird. Had Niko bought the corner shop? Squinting more closely she saw that there were emojis of snowflakes and pills, subtly advertising to those who knew exactly what was on offer. No, not candy, but drugs. Fresh out of jail and already Niko was back in business. There had been news articles occasionally, examining the case, and the papers had dredged everything up when he was released. Hesitantly, she showed photos of both men to her son.
She zoomed in on a shot of Niko. He hadn’t changed much – older of course, dark eyes wary and his smile just short of real. ‘Milo, is this the man who was in the car?’ She was holding her breath, almost willing him to say yes, to solve one piece of the puzzle at least.
He leant over, peered at her phone, and shook his head.
‘Or this one?’
Her son squinted at Devril’s picture for longer, frowning, toast crumbs decorating the side of his mouth. ‘I don’t think so. It was dark and I had that floaty feeling but I don’t think it was this man. He had a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. It was a red one like Dad has …’
‘You mean a GAP one?’
‘Yeah, and the man had a ring on his hand. I felt it when he touched me.’ Milo yawned and, still leaning against her shoulder, drifted back to sleep.
Waiting until he was snoring, Holly moved his head gently back onto the pillow and extricated herself from his clutching fingers. She picked up the card from the cabinet and wheeled herself down to the main entrance towards the coffee machine. Even hospital coffee was better than nothing and she needed to wake up. She was missing something here. Every movement hurt her body and tiredness fogged her brain. She took out her phone, then hesitated.
No way she wanted to speak to the police again so soon, but this mattered. If only to show that she had been telling the truth about not knowing who the child was or how he got there. Although she had to admit it was a bit extreme to think both police officers had doubts about her sanity, hell, she did too at this moment in time.
‘DC Marriot.’
‘It’s Holly Kendal. Milo just woke up and he says that he saw a man in my car after the crash. He thinks he brought the other boy.’
‘My God. Did he recognise him?’ Her voice was sharp, excited.
‘He says not but I think he’d be able to give you a description.’ No need to say she had already shown him a picture of Devril Mancini, or they’d be bound to wonder about the connection again. She could still hear her dad yelling at her brother to never trust the fucking police, and after years of that the mistrust was stuck in her brain.
‘Good. Look, I’m tied up at the moment but I’ll send a colleague back down to the hospital to chat with Milo, if that’s all right? Does he remember anything else?’
‘I don’t think so. He hasn’t said.’
‘That’s fine.’
Holly rang off and sat just inside the doors, watching the busy car park. Ambulances were lined up outside the side entrance, queuing to deliver their patients, and a steady stream of walking wounded tottered into A&E. Every time the doors opened, a blast of icy air hit her face, reminding her it was still winter.
But the sky outside was a perfect pale washed blue, and the morning sunlight cast a feeble brightness across flickering shadows on the tarmac. A grimy concrete pot of spring flowers stood next to the overflowing rubbish bin. Their green shoots and yellow petals were struggling through the sour earth dotted with cigarette ends, but by some miracle they were still growing.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_0e6af69f-4ca1-56d7-b9a0-ab4c619d4484)
Dear Mum,
There is so much shit I need to tell you, but it’s hard to put it into words. My fingers are shaking because it’s really cold in the flat, but I can see you watching me from the wall and that helps a bit.
I’ve got all your photos up, Mum, and I’ve got this cool list that Dad gave me that has all your favourite things. He doesn’t just write you letters, he talks to you all the time. Are you really there? Perhaps it isn’t him who’s gone mad; perhaps it’s just that the others can’t see you.
Anyway, I wanted to let you know we’re never going to forget you and we’ve got a plan that will make you happy. Dad says if we do little things in your memory then it will help until we carry out the plan.
I’m not sure if it does help, because he sometimes cries, or shouts your name and punches the wall. The neighbours yell and bang on their side when he does that. Not on your wall, of course. Yours is beautiful. We painted the whole side of the room yellow like sunshine, and we pinned up loads of pictures, a copy of the list, and some of your clothes. It’s really special and every night we light a candle and Dad says we have to spend a while just thinking about you.
I kind of like this time of night, because it’s quiet, and I can feel you close when we are near the wall. The smell of beer makes me feel a bit sick, but at least Dad is sleeping too. Sometimes he chokes and throws up, but after the first time, I know what to do. I just clean up and I make sure when he passes out his head is turned to one side because Layla at school said she does that for her mum too.
