The Cold Cold Sea (25 page)

Twenty minutes later he was looking down at a sleeping child. If only she
was
his Hailey. If only they hadn’t gone to the beach that awful day, then he might be standing right here looking at his own girl. Phillip realised that all he wanted now was the impossible, to somehow transform this child into his daughter.

Abruptly, he turned and walked downstairs.

He opened the cupboard under the stairs and crouched down to get to the computer. He would set it up in the dining room for the moment.

Slowly, he stood up again and closed the cupboard door. He was tired, he really didn’t feel like messing around with cables and monitors tonight. And once you started trawling the internet it was difficult to stop. He would wait until his jet lag was quite gone.

Tomorrow was another day.

Maggie turned the page of the calendar and hung it up again, staring indifferently at the picture of Culzean Castle. The first of November. All Saints’ Day. And tomorrow was All Souls’.

They had lived for two and a half months now without Olivia, and it felt more like two and a half years. All those emotions, she’d been through more of them since the fifteenth of August than in the whole of her life beforehand. And life was going on now, relentlessly, remorselessly, without her little girl.

So many things were different – her job, the house, the daily routine – quite suddenly it seemed that they had come to a place where Olivia had never been. Her life was no longer tied up with theirs. And however much Maggie agonised and remembered, and then tried to stop remembering because it was just too bloody painful, however much she tried to connect the past with the present - Olivia was gone.

Maggie shivered. After the first agony had subsided, it was the
living
– simple, everyday things, even the thoughts in her head that made each day difficult. Maggie had never realised before how often her daughter had entered her mind as she went about her day. A nature programme on TV that she knew Livvy would like. Her favourite cereal in the supermarket. Jars of honey stocked up in the cupboard. The miniature knife and fork in the cutlery drawer. Just little things, but they meant so much.
Had
meant so much.

It was the uncertainty that really got to her. They knew Olivia was gone, but what
had
happened in the last few minutes of her life? She must have been so afraid, she must have tried to scream for help, struggling against the cold Atlantic. Livvy had been drowning while Maggie was drinking coffee and Colin and Joe were poking about rock pools. And the biggest question of all was
why
. Maggie knew there would never be an answer.

She poured herself more coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. It was almost time to go to work. She had just started at the Geriatric Unit, working three sessions a week. So far it had been alright; the old people on her ward weren’t compos mentis enough to ask personal questions. Maybe they’d put her in that ward on purpose. Maggie didn’t care. It was something to do, and it was fine for the moment.

The sound of Colin’s key in the lock roused her from her daydream. He strode through to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

‘Hello, love. Want some juice?’

‘No thanks,’ said Maggie, staring. ‘What are you doing home at this time?’

‘I need the car this afternoon, I’m taking a client to see the factory at Corriemer. I’ll drive you to the hospital now, though, and I can collect you again at three.’

‘That’s okay,’ said Maggie. ‘I’ll come home on the bus. Give me an excuse to walk through town, have a look at the shops.’

‘Okay,’ said Colin, staring at the photo of Joe and Livvy, attached to the fridge by a cat-shaped magnet.

Maggie sighed. There had been something on his mind for days now, she could tell. He’d been hovering around her, obviously wanting to say something but never quite managing it. She reached out and put a hand on his arm.

‘Colin, for Pete’s sake just spit it out.’

Colin laid the photo on the table and sat down. ‘I loved Olivia,’ he said, his face pale and serious. ‘I was awake for hours last night, thinking about her. I loved being her dad, watching her grow. She was part of our lives and it was wonderful, a miracle. But she’s gone now, Mags, and I - I don’t want to give up on that miracle.’

‘You want us to have another baby,’ said Maggie, hearing the flatness in her voice.

‘I know it’s still too soon for another baby. But we always said we wanted more than two kids one day. I know that we could ever replace Livvy, but I think our family would be more complete if we had another child. One day. I just want to plan something good for our future.’

Maggie took a deep breath.

‘I do not - want - another - baby,’ she said, hearing panic rise shrilly in her voice. Slinky leapt up to his window and disappeared into the garden. ‘We’ve lost a
child
, Colin, I gave birth to her and now she’s gone, and it hasn’t even been three months yet for Christ’s sake, how can you even think of another baby? But you’re right, you’re damned well right we can never replace Olivia, and I am
not
going to try.’

She could feel the scream in her voice again. Love and loss, the most unbearable feelings, and they had lost their daughter in the worst possible way. She could never risk loving another child.

Colin’s face was white. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not talking about now. But I do want us to be a real family, with a couple of kids at least. We’re young, Mags. You might feel different in a year or two.’

Tears rushed into Maggie’s eyes and she pulled a tissue from the box. ‘So we’ll talk about it then,’ she said tightly. ‘In a year or two when I feel different. And not before. Okay? Right now all I want is Livvy, and she’s not coming back, is she?’

Colin shook his head and slumped over the table. Trembling, Maggie went upstairs to put on her make-up. She stared at her face in the bathroom mirror. It was thinner, and more lined than three short months ago. And nowadays there was a blank, hopeless expression in her eyes that had never been there before the fifteenth of August. But Colin was right about one thing. They were young enough to have six more babies if they wanted them.

She blinked back the tears to apply her mascara.

‘Well done, you three, that was a good game. Now you can join the others for a little while before it’s time to go home.’

Katie gathered up the cards spread over the craft table and grinned as Julia, Derek and Hailey ran across the room to the play area. Having an assistant was another advantage of teaching little ones. It meant that she could work more individually with the kids who needed it. Their game of ‘Happy Families’ had helped Derek to speak up clearly, Julia to say the few words necessary and no more, and Hailey to maintain eye contact, something that was often still difficult for the little girl.

I’ll give them another ten minutes, then we’ll have a song before home-time, she thought, wandering over to the play area and noticing with wry amusement that Julia had completely taken over Martin and Melanie’s game of shops. Oh well, the child had been very self-controlled for twenty whole minutes, they couldn’t expect miracles straightaway. And at least Hailey was improving by leaps and bounds now that her dad was home. She seemed to be sleeping better for one thing; the tiredness that had often plagued her in the mornings had vanished.

Katie looked round for Hailey and saw that the little girl was standing by herself at the window, looking out with the old blank expression on her face.

Famous last words, she thought, and joined her smallest pupil.

‘Okay, Hailey? Your dad’ll be here in half an hour, don’t worry.’

Hailey looked up at her, her lips trembling.

‘Mummy’s coming home today,’ she whispered.

Katie smiled encouragingly. ‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it? Are you worried because the babies will still be in hospital? They’ll be home too before you know it, Hailey. Your dad said yesterday they’re doing really well.’

Hailey nodded slowly. She didn’t look convinced, and Katie racked her brains. Hailey’d had her dad all to herself ever since his return, maybe she was worried that he wouldn’t have as much time for her now. Which, when you thought about it, was actually spot-on.

‘Daddy’ll be very glad of your help, you know, when Mummy and the twins are all home again. You’re big enough to do all sorts of things now. It’s fun, being in a big family and helping each other.’

Hailey stared at her, and Katie frowned. There was something still not quite right here, the expression on Hailey’s face was actually more like fear than jealousy. Suddenly Katie remembered the photos Hailey had brought in to show the class. Two tiny babies in incubators. Had Hailey been frightened by the sight of her siblings in hospital? All that technology might well look very scary to a child. And the babies were only a few days old, they probably looked very fragile and sick to their sister.

‘Sweetheart, you don’t need to worry at all about the babies being in hospital,’ she said gently. ‘It’s only for a little while until they grow. Your daddy told me they really are doing well. And when they’re home, we’ll ask Daddy if they can visit us at school sometime. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?’

Hailey nodded, heaved the biggest sigh that Katie had seen in a long time, and turned back into the classroom, her face still glum.

Katie clapped her hands for silence. ‘Right, everyone, let’s start tidying up now. It’s nearly time to go home.’

The other children buzzed around excitedly, but the expression on Hailey’s face reminded Katie of the first day of school when the little girl had looked so sullen when her mother arrived. Today, like that day, it was obvious that Hailey didn’t want to go home.

Phillip sank into the depths of the sofa and closed his eyes. All this worry and running back and forth between the hospital and the school and home - it was incredibly tiring. He’d just made Hailey’s dinner, and when Jennifer came down from her nap he’d need to cook something for her too. The only thing he could be glad about right this minute was that he didn’t have to rush back to work. He could stay at home with his family, but what a mixed blessing that was turning out to be.

He still hadn’t found out about Hailey’s real identity. The very fact that nobody seemed to be looking for this child was making it all too easy just to let things slide until he had more energy and more time to plan. That afternoon he had eventually got the computer set up again, but then he’d had to collect first Hailey and then Jennifer, there hadn’t been time for research as well. Or – to be completely honest – there had been time, he just hadn’t done it.

Right this minute he had time, but he was so exhausted, he really didn’t know how he’d cope with whatever the world wide web would tell him about the child who called him Daddy.

He opened his eyes as Hailey wandered in, her baby doll held upright against her chest. It was nearly bath time.

Phillip smiled. ‘Hi, honey. Finished playing with your doll’s house?’

Hailey nodded, her expression bleak.

‘Mummy’s awake again.’

She sat down beside him, rocking the doll in her arms. Phillip swallowed hard. It was good to see her playing with her toys, but the guilt he felt each time he looked at her, it crushed him. He would have to do something soon. If he could only work out a foolproof plan, but the way his brain was functioning at the moment that just wasn’t likely.

‘Is that baby Lara you’ve got there?’ he said, trying to sound as if no guilt was torturing him.

Hailey shook her head. ‘No, this is my Maggie. She’s my very best baby.’ She sat there for a moment, stroking the doll’s face, then looked up. ‘When are the babies coming home?’

Phillip smiled. Baby Maggie would take a back seat when baby Lara was home, he would bet anything at all on that.

‘Probably next Monday, like I told you.’

Hailey nodded, looking thoughtful. ‘Miss McLure says I’m big enough to help with them. I want to give them their bottles and bath them, can I?’

Phillip’s breath caught. She was looking forward to her future in his family. A future that couldn’t... shouldn’t... be.

Hailey was still waiting expectantly for the answer to what was obviously a very important question. He forced himself to sound happy and enthusiastic.

‘That sounds great. I’ll be really glad of your help.’

Satisfied, the child turned back to her doll, and Phillip leaned back again, closing his eyes. He could dream a little longer.

The letter flap on the front door gave its usual clunk as it snapped shut, and Maggie glanced up from the sofa, where she was catching up with the news on teletext. The postman exited the garden, leaving the gate wide open as usual - this had always infuriated Maggie before, but now it was just so completely unimportant.

Last night, for the first time since losing Livvy, she and Colin had made love. The inevitable bittersweet milestone, and they had sobbed together afterwards. Maggie needed to feel joy. She needed to feel free from worry for just a moment, and she knew that if this didn’t happen, their marriage was unlikely to survive in the long run. But in the whole series of terrible ‘firsts’ they’d gone through since the fifteenth of August, this one had been the most poignant.

Maggie’s stomach heaved as she stared at the three envelopes lying in the hallway. The cream-coloured one was a card. Recently they’d had a couple of sympathy cards; couldn’t people have the sensitivity to at least wait until - what? Until they had a funeral? Made some kind of ‘my daughter is definitely dead’ statement? She lifted the envelopes, forgetting about the card when she saw the plain white envelope beneath it.

It was another of those hideous anonymous letters. They’d had about six now, and actually some were signed with Christian names so they weren’t completely anonymous. They all had one thing in common, though: the writers all thought that she and Colin were the worst parents in the world. And maybe they were right, of course. Howard had told them to discard these letters unread, but Maggie couldn’t do this. She read through every page of insults that came.