‘She also could’ve been fine. She was fine. All I did was clean her up, wipe her tears and buy her a cookie. That’s not a crime,’ I say quietly. I’m tired. I want to go home.
‘It is a crime, Maddie! Walking off with someone else’s child without telling them is tantamount to kidnap! They have a witness who heard you say you were taking her home to watch Mulan, for fuck’s sake.’
He flings himself into the other chair in the room, suddenly deflated, looking like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He starts to run his hands through his hair again, making even more of it stand on end. ‘Jesus, Maddie. This is getting out of hand.’
‘It was a misunderstanding, that’s all. I was trying to do a good deed. She was alone and scared and hurt.’
‘Maybe you need hel—’
The door to the room opens and the policewoman who has been grilling me for the last few hours walks in, but doesn’t close the door behind her this time. ‘You’re free to go, Mrs Lowe. Mrs Marshall does not wish to press charges at this stage.’
‘Thank you,’ I say quietly. ‘How’s Mia?’
I can feel Greg’s eyes burning into me.
The policewoman narrows her eyes and says, ‘She’s gone home now with her mother, where she belongs. Perhaps next time you see a child in distress, you should stay where you are and call for help rather than taking matters into your own hands.’
*
The drive home is awkward to say the least. Greg is still angry with me. He just can’t seem to get his head around what I did. When I asked him what he would’ve done, he said he would’ve asked the other women if she belonged to them and if no one claimed her, he would’ve called 999. Like she was lost property, a misplaced purse rather than a vulnerable child.
But this is the problem with us these days. We are on different wavelengths. He has accepted that we may never have children. With each failed attempt, he seems to want it that bit less. He used to be as excited, as determined. Now it feels like he is just going through the motions for me.
Meanwhile, I just want it more. It is all I think about. Everywhere I look, I see cherub faces, can hear laughing and playing, smell baby shampoo and Sudocrem, like a drug I can’t avoid. Everyone seems to be pregnant or pushing a pushchair, complaining about exhaustion and lack of sleep, wiping sick off their clothes – and I want all of it. All the messy, boring, tiring lot of it.
I suggested adoption to Greg the other day and he point blank refused to consider it, said he didn’t want someone else’s baby. If he couldn’t have ours, he would rather go without.
How could he not even consider it?
Surely any child is better than none at all?
I can still feel the warmth of Mia’s hand in mine, almost taste the salt of her tears on my tongue.
That can’t be our future.
I won’t let it.
7
Someone was knocking insistently on her door.
Maddie had been in bed for what felt like forever. She looked at the clock on her bedside table: 10.15 a.m. Yesterday’s stomach bug was thankfully over, but she was weak and exhausted. She wanted sleep and lots of it, and she was determined to recover without any more help from anyone. Jade had been right the other day in telling her she was playing the victim too much. She was supposed to be getting back her independence and at the first sign of trouble, she’d had to call in reinforcements.
Pathetic.
So no more help from Jade. Or Greg. Time to stand on her own two feet.
Actually, she was beginning to enjoy living on her own. Her own little safe haven, she was no longer waking up in the middle of the night, listening in case every creak was a step in the hallway, an intruder coming towards her. No longer cooking huge amounts of food, forgetting that she was on her own. She’d even starting thinking about unpacking the remaining boxes in the spare room so that she could turn it into a home office, maybe start a small business bookkeeping from home, finally accepting the fact that she should step away from Greg’s business permanently.
There was a jigsaw in that room that was begging to be started. Very rock and roll of her, but the idea of quiet evenings in front of rubbish telly with a jigsaw for company was comforting. She could imagine Jade’s face if she saw her doing a jigsaw!
Then again, there were other boxes in that spare room that she didn’t want to unpack, that were still too painful to open.
The knocking started up again, then Maddie’s heart lurched as she thought she heard the sound of a key in the lock and a thud as the chain pulled tight, barring entry.
‘Maddie? Maddie, are you in there? Are you ok?’ Jade’s voice was rattling and hoarse, her cigarette habit stripping her voice of its melody. ‘I’m worried about you.’
Maddie wanted to weep. She just wanted to be left alone, but she figured she owed it to Jade to tell her she was feeling better, especially after she came to her rescue.
Maddie inched from her bed and threw her dressing gown on over the T-shirt and knickers she’d been sleeping in.
As she approached the door, she saw it was closed and that Jade was peering through the letterbox. Maddie glanced up and
