Tania Carver: The Surrogate

‘You are Hester, aren’t you? That’s your name?’ Anni tried to keep her voice soft, but had to raise it to be heard over the crying of the baby. She kept looking at Hester, willing her to look back.

‘Hester…’

Hester’s eyes stopped fluttering round the room, began to focus on Anni and her softly spoken words.

‘Your name is Hester, isn’t it?’

Hester held her eyes, blinking rapidly. She nodded.

‘Good. Listen, Hester, I’m not here to hurt you. Nobody wants to hurt you, okay? We’re just worried about you. You and the baby.’

Anni waited, hoping the words had sunk in. She kept on talking, still using that soft, soothing tone.

‘Look, Hester, why don’t you put the baby down, yeah? Then we can talk. Talk properly.’

Hester looked down at the baby, began shushing and soothing it. The baby’s crying began to gradually subside.

Anni edged a couple of centimetres forward.

‘You’re good with babies, Hester. Very good. Now why don’t you put it down, yeah? Then we can talk…’

Hester frowned, still clutching the baby tightly to her. Rocking it from side to side. ‘Wh-what about? Why…’

‘You’re out here on your own, you’ve got a baby to look after, you need help, Hester…’

‘I’ve got my… my husband, he’ll… he’s away, he’s… got to come back…’

‘Your husband. Right.’The last thing they wanted was for the husband to return while Hester was holding the baby. ‘Listen, Hester, don’t worry about your husband now. He’s not here. Just think about what’s best for you and the baby. I can help you, Hester. Give you the support that you and the baby need.’

Another step forward.

‘Come on, Hester, let’s talk, yeah? Just two women together.’

She risked another step. Hester, still rocking the baby, had reacted when she had said ‘two women’. Clearly that was the right thing to say. Anni kept going.

‘Look,’ she pointed at the team behind her, ‘don’t worry about them. They’re men. They don’t understand. Guns and that, shouting, that’s how they respond to things.’ She turned back to Hester, looked her directly in the eye. ‘Women are different, aren’t we? We know how to talk properly, without all that. So come on.’ Another step forward. ‘Let’s talk. Just you and me.’

Hester looked between Anni, the baby and the tooled-up task force. It seemed, from the confusion in her eyes, that she genuinely didn’t know what to do. She kept rocking the baby from side to side. It was silent now.

Anni risked another step forward. She was almost level with her now.

‘Come on, Hester, you must be tired standing there. Are you tired?’

Hester thought about it, nodded.

‘Thought so.’ Anni held out her arms. ‘Let me put the baby down, then we can talk. Properly.You and me.Yeah?’

Anni smiled. Hoping she looked trustworthy and honest.

Hester looked at the baby and then at Anni, her world having shrunk down to that choice. She began to release her grip on the baby, to hand it over.

Anni’s heart was racing, her hands shaking. She hoped it didn’t show too much.

‘Come on, Hester. Let me take the baby and we can have a chat…’

Hester, with the simplicity of trust that a child would have, hesitantly stretched out her hands, the baby held firmly in them.

Anni stepped up close to her, smiling all the while. She placed her hands beneath the baby, took her gently from Hester.

She held the baby tightly to her. She looked up, saw Hester’s face. Expectant, waiting. Trusting. It really was like betraying a child, she thought.

She nodded to Phil, who gave the order. Hester was rushed. Grabbed by the task force, pushed to the ground. She let out a cry of rage that turned into a wail of sorrow.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Anni, but her words were lost in the noise.

She carried the baby away from Hester, right to the back of the house. Phil followed her.

‘Well done,’ he said.

‘Get the paramedics,’ said Anni, without turning round. ‘I’m going outside.’

And she left the house, clutching the baby to her chest. Still not turning round.

Not allowing anyone to see the tears on her face.

‘ We’ve searched the whole house, sir,’ said one of the uniforms. ‘No sign of Marina Esposito. No sign of anyone. But we found this.’ He handed Phil a piece of paper. ‘It was nailed to the wall in the kitchen.’

Phil looked at it. Couldn’t believe his eyes. They were all there. Lisa King, Susie Evans, Claire Fielding, Caroline Eades. Other names followed them. Beside each name was a date. Due dates, thought Phil. But it was the name at the bottom of the list that concerned him most.

Marina Esposito , it said in handwriting different from but no better than the earlier entries. And next to it, from the coppers .

Phil tried to keep panic, desperation from his voice. He addressed the uniform again. ‘You’ve looked everywhere. What about basements? Lofts? Anything like that?’

The uniform shook her head. ‘Nothing. We’ve checked.’

‘Outbuildings?’

‘Checked them too. Apart from some chickens and pigs, there’s no one else here.’

‘Keep looking.’

Phil moved swiftly outside. Hester was just about to be escorted away. He ran to the van, confronted Hester. The policemen holding her didn’t let her go.

‘Where is she?’ he said. ‘Where’ve you put her?’

Hester just stared at him, mouth hanging slackly open, fear in her eyes.

Phil brandished the list before her face. ‘Here,’ he said, stabbing the name with his finger, ‘Marina Esposito. Here. Her name. Now where is she? Where’ve you put her?’

Hester tried to back away from him, terrified. She started whimpering. Phil kept going.

‘Where is she? Where is she?’

Hester cowered away from him, turning her face into the arms of one of the officers holding her. ‘No… no… don’t, don’t hurt me… go away, go away…’

‘Where is she…’ Phil realised that his words weren’t working. Hester didn’t know.

It wasn’t her. She didn’t know.

He turned away. ‘Oh God…’

They bundled her into the police van.

Phil stood there watching her go, his heart as black, dark and heavy as the Wrabness night.

He was lost.

Marina crept along, bent low, walking slowly. The light was getting brighter as she reached its source, the shadows lengthening, flickering as they came round the corners. It was accompanied by noise. Rhythmic pounding. Hammering.

She pressed herself in tight against the wall, gripped the screwdriver firmly in her hand. Risked a look round the corner.

The walls were lined with shelves containing canned food, cartons of milk, bottles of water. It was like a survivalist’s larder. In the centre of the space, a figure was kneeling down, hammering nails into wood. Marina looked closer, tried to work out what was being made.

There were huge squares of wood, metal mesh. The wood was being turned into frames, the mesh covering the frames. Marina was chilled by something more than just cold. She knew what was being made.

A cage. A cage for her.

She gave a gasp. Involuntary, unplanned. Cursing herself for doing it.

The figure stopped hammering, looked up.

He smiled. It wasn’t pleasant.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Welcome to your new home.’

The baby had been taken to hospital in an ambulance. The paramedics had given her a cursory examination and decided she was quite well, considering, but really needed full nursing care. Graeme Eades would be contacted.

Anni was sitting on the step, looking out towards the beach, her coat pulled tight round her, a blanket over that.