Don't Let Me Go (35 page)

Read Don't Let Me Go Online

Authors: Susan Lewis

‘It’s OK, we can go for them once all the fuss has died down,’ Tommy told her. ‘Right now I think we need to avail ourselves of Maggie’s facilities, at least I do.’

Minutes later they were in the Fenns’ large farmhouse kitchen with a kettle on the boil and a tentative offer of champagne still on the table, as yet unaccepted.

It seemed everyone was talking at once about what had happened in court, the dash through the press, the bail conditions which Charlotte realised she still hadn’t fully registered. She was about to ask Anthony when he put a hand on her arm and said quietly, ‘A word?’

Trying not to appear flustered, she nodded a yes, and let him steer her into the sitting room. As he closed the door behind them he fixed her with playfully narrowed eyes. ‘So I guess I now have answers to one or two questions that have been bothering me lately,’ he drawled. ‘Such as why I never heard back from you when I emailed to say I might be passing through New Zealand.’

Colouring, Charlotte said, ‘I’m sorry, it just . . . Well, as you said, you know the reason now and I’m not really sure how to begin explaining myself.’

‘We’ll come on to it,’ he assured her, ‘but the important thing is that you don’t end up paying too high a price for it.’

Feeling a jarring inside, Charlotte asked, ‘Do you think I’m likely to?’

‘Well, it’s possible, but we’re going to do everything we can to make sure you don’t.’

‘And you can do that, even though everyone knows I took her?’

‘Where the law’s concerned we can do almost anything, it’s just a question of finding the right way to go about it – and making a point of not telling everyone we’re guilty when that’s almost certainly going to contradict our plea.’

Both embarrassed and moved by his use of ‘we’ and ‘our’, she watched him walk to the bay window, presumably to check if a photographer had turned up yet. ‘Thanks for what you did today,’ she said softly. ‘I know it’s not usual for someone of your standing to take on something as trivial as a bail hearing.’

‘Hardly trivial when they had you shut up in Walworth,’ he protested. He scowled in a way that made her feel faintly light-headed. ‘I had a feeling you weren’t going to contact me yourself,’ he continued, ‘so I thought I ought to seize the initiative before things went too far. Not that I have any doubts about Kim’s abilities, you understand, Saturday’s result had more to do with old Edmore’s wayward temperament than it did with the case she was making. In fact, it was no different to the one I put forward today, I was just lucky enough to have a better judge.’

‘Who happens to be a friend?’

‘I wouldn’t go quite that far.’

Still thrown by the fact that he’d done what he had, that she was actually standing here with him, she had to make an extra effort to sound collected as she asked, ‘So why did you . . . ? I mean, I thought you were taking a sabbatical.’

‘So did I.’ He gestured for her to sit on one of the sofas, while he took the other. ‘In fact, I hung up the Gone Fishing sign at the end of last week intending to start my new adventure sometime this month, but it seems it’ll have to wait a little longer now.’

‘But you can’t postpone, not for me,’ she protested.

Appearing amused, he replied, ‘The decision’s already been made, so let’s not argue about it. Instead, let’s accept the good fortune that I’m still in the country and free to take the case on.’

Unable to make sense of his decision, though intensely relieved to be in his hands, she said, ‘There’s no knowing how long this might go on . . .’

‘I’m not in a rush, and anyway, we’re doing everything we can to make sure it doesn’t drag on – and we’re starting out well. The Section Fifty-one’s already dealt with, and the judge surprised even me when he ruled for papers to be served in three weeks.’

‘Will I have to be in court for that?’

‘No, your next appearance will be at the Plea and Case Management, which is scheduled for seven weeks from now.’

‘Seven weeks,’ she groaned, thinking of how long that was in Chloe’s little world.

‘Be glad it’s not four times that,’ he responded. ‘We did really well getting such a tight timetable out of the judge today, though he has something of a reputation for wanting to move things along. In the meantime you can work on your statement so that we know everything that happened from the day you first met Ottilie Wade – or Chloe, as I believe we’re now calling her – right up to when you boarded the flight for New Zealand. I’ll then want to hear details of how and where you were living in New Zealand, the kind of progress Chloe made in her development, if any, and why it would be in her best interests to be allowed to return there.’

Charlotte took a breath that broke on a sob. ‘Do you think she will be?’ she gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. ‘Are you saying there’s a chance I’ll be able to get her back?’

Anthony held her gaze. ‘What I’m saying is, it’s our aim. Whether or not we’ll make it happen is dependent on more variables than you’d ever want to hear about, but hurdles are there to be overcome and I haven’t found too many yet that have bested me. My apologies if that sounds arrogant.’

Clasping her hands over her face, Charlotte began shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she choked. ‘I just don’t know what to say. When I woke up this morning I was in a prison cell and now here I am, at your sister’s house, with you and you’re telling me . . . I just don’t understand why you’d want to be mixed up with someone like me after what I did . . .’

Coming to pull her to her feet, he said in a voice rich with irony, ‘If you’d stop to think of the kinds of people I’m used to mixing with, in a professional sense, I don’t think you’d be quite so hard on yourself. In fact, you were probably mixing with them yourself only this morning, so you’ll have a good idea of what I mean.’

Giving a splutter of laughter, she turned her head to one side, embarrassed to meet his eyes. ‘I was on the rule,’ she told him. ‘There are people in there who I’ve come across before, in a professional sense, and I’m afraid they’re not too keen on me.’

‘Ah, so we have a similar sort of following?’

With another laugh, she tried to meet his gaze as she said, ‘I don’t get why you’re doing this for me. I mean, you hardly even know me.’

The intensity of his eyes seemed to deepen as he continued to look at her. ‘Maggie trusts and cares for you and I trust her judgement.’

Swallowing dryly, Charlotte glanced away.

‘If you remember,’ he said, ‘I tried to get to know you better before you left. Now I understand why it didn’t work out. You had the child there in the house with you the entire time the police were looking for her?’

She nodded awkwardly. ‘I’m afraid so. She never made a sound, because she won’t if you tell her not to. You see, she doesn’t have the same sort of disobedient streak you find in most children her age, it was bullied and beaten out of her, but we’ve been trying to get her spirit back.’

‘With some success?’

‘With a lot of success, which is why it’s so important she’s with the right people. She trusts me, and my mother, or she did before all this happened . . . I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind now. She must be so confused, so scared. I want to ask Tommy about her, but I don’t suppose I should put him in that position.’

‘One of your bail conditions is that you don’t attempt to make any contact with her. Do you think you can stick to it?’

Feeling the need for Chloe clashing with the dread of Walworth, she replied, ‘I guess I don’t have a choice, but is it so wrong to want to know if she’s all right?’

‘Of course not, it’s just that the law isn’t seeing it quite that way at the moment.’

Nodding her understanding, she said, ‘I’m still not entirely sure about my conditions, apart from the fact that I’m due to be fitted with a tag sometime this evening.’

‘You also have to report to the police station every day at one p.m.,’ he told her, ‘and you have a curfew from nine at night till eight in the morning. They’ve also got all your money, but I think you’re well aware of that.’

She nodded soberly. ‘If I thought it would bring Chloe back I’d let them keep it,’ she said. ‘Except I’m going to need it to pay my legal fees.’

With a disarming smile, he said, ‘We’ll see about that. Now, I’m afraid it’s time I was leaving. I have to be in London this evening, and . . .’ He broke off as the door opened and Maggie put her head in.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she said, ‘but Kim has to make a move and she was wondering if she could run something past you first.’

‘We’re coming,’ Anthony assured her, and letting Charlotte go ahead he followed her into the kitchen where Kim had her laptop open on the table, with Gabby and Tommy seated either side of her.

‘We’ve been working on a statement for Charlotte’s Facebook page,’ she informed both Anthony and Charlotte. ‘I felt we needed to keep it brief and to the point . . .’

‘. . . but we thought it was important,’ Gabby chimed in, ‘to let everyone know that Gavril Albescu was
not
your father.’

Charlotte’s eyes closed in dismay. What on earth was Anthony making of all that?

‘If he wasn’t her father,’ he said, ‘then yes, I think it should be made clear right away.’

Cheered by the approval, Gabby went on, ‘We were just trying to make up our minds whether to say who it actually was, and Tommy quite rightly felt that you should decide.’

Feeling Anthony’s eyes on her, Charlotte looked at him as she said, ‘It was Nigel Carrington, one of the victims, the man everyone thought was my aunt’s boyfriend. In fact he was my mother’s lover, and it was because Albescu found out I wasn’t his that he . . . did what he did.’

Anthony nodded gravely. ‘I see,’ he responded. ‘So do you have other family here, in the UK, related to Nigel Carrington?’

She shook her head. ‘Not that my mother and I could find. His parents passed on quite a while ago and he was an only child.’

Allowing his eyes to rest on hers for a moment, he then said to Kim, ‘This is definitely something we should correct, if only to get it out of the way. Do you know if the police are trying to find out who posted the story?’

‘They said they would when I contacted them,’ she replied, ‘but I’ve no idea if they’re making any headway.’

‘Actually, I’m pretty sure I know where it came from,’ Charlotte told them. ‘There’s a journalist, here in Kesterly, called Heather Hancock . . .’

‘Oh God, not her again,’ Anthony snorted. ‘Isn’t she the one who tried to trash your play and gave you such a rough ride at the time Chloe was missing?’

‘That’s her. I’ve only ever told one person about my real family, and he’s quite a good friend of hers.’

‘Let me have her details,’ Kim said, ‘and I’ll pass them on to the police, though since it’s been published on a foreign website I’m not sure how much they can do.’

To his sister Anthony said, ‘I need to leave now, but I’ll see you at the weekend?’

Giving him a hug, she replied, ‘You will indeed if you decide to come here.’

Charlotte laughed at the droll expression in his eyes as he thanked her and turned to Tommy.

‘I appreciate the chat we had earlier,’ he said. ‘You have my number if anything else comes up.’

Charlotte’s mouth turned dry as Tommy shook Anthony’s hand. They must have been talking about Chloe, so why not tell her what it was? They would if it was good news, surely, so what was happening?

After saying goodbye to Kim and Gabby, Anthony had a few quick words with his brother-in-law and then turned to Charlotte. ‘Walk with me to the door?’

Following him into the hall, she kept her voice down as she said, ‘What was that about with Tommy?’

‘He’s been a bit concerned about some of the questions the police are asking your old colleagues,’ he replied. ‘I don’t suppose it’ll come as any surprise that you won’t be on the guest list for the next policemen’s ball.’

‘None at all. What sort of questions are they asking?’

‘Nothing I wouldn’t have expected at this time. Now, I’m afraid I have to go. Maggie and Ron will take good care of you. I’m just sorry I can’t stay longer.’

Sorry too, Charlotte said, ‘The Gavril Albescu stuff . . . I guess you must be wondering how many more skeletons are packed away in my closet.’

Amused, he smiled, ‘We all have them, but I must admit they’re not all as . . . colourful as yours.’

With a wry tone, Charlotte said, ‘I’d much prefer it if they were drab or didn’t exist at all, but thank you for putting it that way. And thank you for everything you’ve done today . . . For everything you’re doing . . .’

He took her hand. ‘Thank me when it’s over and we’ve got the right result.’

Her breath caught on the hope, and her smile wasn’t quite steady as she nodded agreement.

‘Maggie has my mobile number if you need to reach me,’ he told her, ‘otherwise I’ll hope to see you at the weekend.’

After he’d gone Charlotte returned to the kitchen and the fresh pot of tea Maggie had just made. A plate of home-made scones was now at the centre of the table, oozing cream and jam, and looked so mouth-watering that Charlotte felt an immediate sting in her taste buds. Almost a week had gone by since she’d last had decent food, and suddenly she wasn’t sure whether she was more ravenous or exhausted.

‘Here, sit down,’ Tommy said, pulling out the chair next to him. ‘You’re looking like you’re about to pass out on us.’

Doing as she was told, Charlotte helped herself to a scone as Maggie poured her tea. ‘Thanks,’ she said, wondering now if she could actually manage to eat. ‘I ought to call my mother,’ she suddenly remembered.

‘She already knows you’ve been bailed,’ Maggie told her. ‘I rang myself as soon as I heard the news.’

Touched by her thoughtfulness, Charlotte said, ‘That’s so kind of you. Was she OK?’

‘She certainly sounded delighted when I told her you were on your way here. The phone’s over there, you can use it whenever you like.’

Glancing at the time, Charlotte said, ‘It’s the middle of the night for her now, so maybe I should wait for a while.’

‘Eat something,’ Gabby ordered. ‘You’re really pale, and after everything you’ve been through . . .’

‘I’m OK,’ Charlotte insisted, and biting into a scone she tried not to think of how much Chloe, with her sweet tooth, would love one. ‘Can I read the Facebook statement?’ she asked, as Kim started to pack away her laptop.

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