D. E. White - The Forgotten Child

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.

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.

Are you really there, Mum? I kind of need to know, but if you can’t tell me don’t worry, I understand. I know you’re looking out for me. Can you keep an eye on Dad too? Just when he goes a bit crazy. I’m worried that he might do something stupid and they’ll take him away. Don’t tell him I said so.

I love you, Mum

x

‘She’s dead!’

‘Listen to me. Put both hands on the centre of her chest, one on top of the other. Are you doing that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Now push down hard and fast. Don’t be afraid to push too hard. You can help her …’

‘I’m doing it! I’m fucking doing it, okay?’

‘Great. Well done. Keep going. One, two, three, four … I’ll stay with you until the ambulance arrives. Is the door unlocked?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Keep going. One, two, three, four …’

‘I can’t …’

‘It’s okay. Keep going, sweetheart, you are doing so well. The ambulance is nearly with you.’

‘I can hear sirens.’

‘Keep going.’

‘Oh, the police are here!’

‘It’s okay, just keep going until the ambulance crew take over.’

‘They’re here!’

‘Okay, you can hang up on me now. Well done, Holly.’

Holly drifted back to consciousness, fighting her way through the ragged remains of nightmares. Her own brother’s girlfriend and she hadn’t saved her … It was like a knife, jabbing quickly, mercilessly under her ribs.

Her eyes darted around the room as she took deep breaths, feeling her pulse slowing down to normal. At least they were home now, and she was in her own bed, in her own house. She hadn’t had that dream for ages, and the memories were unwelcome, dripping through into real life, into her perfect real life that she had so carefully constructed. Except it wasn’t so perfect anymore. Tom had turned into a cheating bastard, and she was left struggling to pay the bills on her own. Not to mention his charming text messages. Since the accident she’d had only one more, but she was now seriously considering telling DC Marriot about them.

She struggled out of bed, feeling the twinge in her leg, adjusting her weight to compensate. But she was okay. If she kept telling herself that, she might even start to believe it. After all, the hospital had given them the all clear and discharged them both; medically they must be all right. Milo was calling from his room now, something about a dragon egg hatching into a wolf. She could do this. ‘Coming! Can you reach your crutches okay?’

‘Yeah, I just want to show you this really cool evolving dragon egg!’

Holly pulled a thick fleece on over her pyjamas and staggered towards his room, pushing away the dregs of the nightmare, focusing on what was important. But she couldn’t help thinking about the other boy. The silent, pale child still lying in his hospital bed, who had nobody to shout for, nobody to claim him. The rush of protective emotion she had experienced after she found him in her car was still there.