Blindsided

‘I suppose. There’s no way he’s going to win though. I’m keeping the house, and I’m keeping my son, even if it kills me. You know, he hardly mentioned the crash, the other boy, or the fact that there was someone following me. If there was one person I would suspect of trying to run me off the road, it would be him.’

Her aunt looked her sharply, one hand resting on the granite worktop, the other picking anxiously at a loose thread on her shirt. ‘Really? But he was in Portugal and this other boy …’

‘Oh, I know it wasn’t him. Milo would have recognised him when he saw him in the car anyway, and what would he be doing with a spare child? The point is, when I was scared, driving through the dark, thinking I was about to be carjacked or something, I thought it would be him. He really hates me. Whatever he says about the texts, it must be him or Beth. Nobody else would have access to his phone. He used to have a fit if I even answered it for him when we were together.’

Her aunt nodded slowly, biting her lip. ‘I did wonder … Don’t take this the wrong way, love, but all that old trouble with Jayden … Niko’s out now, and you told me the police saw Devril Mancini at the petrol station. Could this be something to do with your brother?’

Holly blinked, shocked. ‘Jesus, Lydia, of course not. That was all finished with ages ago, and I’ve not had anything to do with that lot for years. And Jayden’s … Well, he’s dead isn’t he?’

Lydia looked away, cheeks flaming. ‘Yes, of course. I’m just saying, that’s all. Let’s not talk about it anymore. I just wanted to say … But you’re right, it will bring back bad memories.’ She dashed a hand across her eyes and started rummaging in the cupboard. ‘How about cottage pie for dinner, love?’

Holly watched her for a moment, but let it go. Clearly her aunt had more to say on the subject, but she knew from experience not to push it. Why would anyone go after her anyway? The answer sprang up in an instant, and the thought made her gut clench with fear. Because what happened was her fault.

The door banged as Tom marched in from the garden and made his way out of the house. He called a cheerful goodbye to his son, but ignored the two women.

Milo bounced back into the kitchen, swinging along on his crutches, showing Lydia the ripped-open box of Ninjago Lego that was his latest present. With a sudden stab of emotion Holly thought of the other child again, the one who was never far from her thoughts. What kind of a life did he have? Did he play with Lego like Milo, or have furious games with dragons?

Preoccupied, Holly watched her ex-husband stride out into the road, getting carefully into his new Jaguar F-Type. He adjusted the driving mirror, taking his time, smoothing back his hair, clicking his seatbelt into place. The car was just another status symbol, another example of the toys that his reputation had brought him. Lydia was right, he loved the adoration from his students, the praise from academic journals, the spotless and much-talked-about career. She thought of what Tom had said about trading secrets. Well, yes they had, but how long would the trust hold, how long would it be until one of them had nothing to lose by telling the truth?

Shoving the emotions away, Holly picked up her phone. ‘Lydia, I’m just going to ring the hospital and see if there’s any news on that other boy.’

Lydia appeared in the kitchen doorway, tea towel in her damp hands, her dark eyes bright with interest. ‘That’s a good idea, love. I hate to think of a kid all alone, and you said he doesn’t seem to have any family. Whoever left him was wicked, plain evil.’

Chapter 7 (#ulink_0636c35f-f418-51b4-ac0b-c67a1528ab62)

DC Marriot called just after Holly dropped Milo at school. ‘Mrs Kendal? It’s DC Karen Marriot. Are you at home?’

‘What? Sorry, the signal is really bad.’ That and the noise of a hundred screaming kids hurtling around a playground. A dozen footballs bounced off the chain-link fence next to her. Holly moved away, dodging through the crowd to a space near the bus stop. ‘I’ll be home in about fifteen minutes.’

‘I can meet you there. I’d rather speak to you face to face about this.’

Her voice was sharp, almost excited. Holly shivered despite her coat and scarf. It had to be something about the boy. Who he was, obviously, and it was clearly interesting or the DC wouldn’t be dragging herself out to her house. Perhaps he had woken up. Which would be weird, as when she’d spoken to the nurse last night they said there’d been no change, but he was ‘comfortable’. Holly walked faster, almost jogging, until the nagging pain in her injured leg forced her to slow down.

DI Harper hadn’t been in touch after that odd conversation at the hospital. It was almost like he was keeping away on purpose, but she supposed he must have other cases he was working on. He had said his colleague was taking the lead on this one, and with so much drama in her personal life she’d been grateful the police had left her alone. Until now.

Arriving home breathless, and worried, she barely had time to tidy the junk in the lounge, and chuck the breakfast dishes into the sink, when the doorbell rang.

DC Marriot was accompanied by her colleague, DS Steph Harlow, and although both women were polite and almost friendly, Holly felt a flicker of nerves.

‘Do you want tea?’

DC Harlow smiled reassuringly. She was a pretty, round-faced woman with grey hair tied up in a messy ponytail. ‘I’ll have one please. Two sugars would be great.’

‘No thanks.’ DC Marriot was immaculate as usual, her blonde hair gleaming and pinned up in a chignon, her charcoal grey suit jacket and trousers perfectly pressed. But her cool expression betrayed a flash of excitement. ‘I’ll come straight to the point. The swab we took from the child in hospital shows that there is a genetic link between you. These results only give varying degrees of probability, but in this case there is a high degree of probability that you are related to this boy.’

‘Fuck me.’ It wasn’t possible. Holly swallowed hard and switched the kettle off before it had finished boiling. Realising what she had done, she turned it back on and faced the two women, fists clenched. Her stomach was churning, and she found she was breathing fast. ‘How could I be related to him? I don’t have any other kids!’ Her mind was spinning and the shock turned her voice into a squeak. So many possibilities hurtling through her brain. Had her parents had another child? A half-brother or sister who in turn had given birth to a boy?

‘We obviously know about your brother,’ DS Harlow said gently.

‘What? But Jayden’s dead. Oh shit, how old do you think the kid is?’ Without waiting for an answer, words tumbling from her mouth, Holly continued, ‘Oh my God, what’s my aunt going to say? You’re saying this is Jayden’s kid, aren’t you?’ Quickly she did the maths. What had the doctor said? That he thought the boy was about twelve. That would make him Larissa’s child. Her other child. Not the lifeless baby girl the paramedics had found in the flat. Another child. But there had been no trace of another kid in the flat … There hadn’t!

Holly pulled some mugs from the cupboard, hands shaking. One of the handles slid from her grasp and shattered on the tiled floor. ‘Shit!’ She burst into tears, blood oozing from a cut thumb.

DS Harlow got up, and took the remaining mugs from Holly, gently disentangling her fingers. ‘Go and sit down. I’ll make the tea. Sorry, Holly, but this is why we wanted to break the news in person. I understand it must be a shock.’

Wiping her eyes, Holly slumped opposite DC Marriot, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at her, instead staring at the wooden table. She grabbed a tissue and wrapped it around her injured digit. ‘Have you spoken to Lydia? To my dad?’ Fucking hell, Donnie would go mental when he found out. Depending on whether he was having a day off the booze, or if he was busy drinking himself insensible. Mind you, he’d taken zero interest in Milo.

Whatever Donnie had been up to in previous years, he no longer played an active part in anything unless it came out of a bottle. It was hard to believe he used to be the kingpin of all the local crime families. In the years before her mum died, Donnie had dipped a toe in most illegal activities you could name: drugs, of course; trafficking; robberies. There had once been a lot of money to burn but now it was gone.

She and Jayden had grown up knowing that other people were scared of their parents. They’d been raised with the Balintas, the Mancinis and later the Nicholls’ kids. And that had turned out so well. Holly dropped her head in her hands for a moment, lost in the past. A past she had turned her back on. For a while she had been successful, but now it seemed that everything was slowly unravelling. At the back of her brain the words beat a drum tattoo: ‘Another child, another child.’ If the police were right, she had a nephew. Milo had a cousin.

She raised her head and looked up at DC Marriot. ‘Sorry. Just a bit of a shock. Oh thanks. Um … Are you sure about this? I mean, is it possible there’s some mistake? My brother is dead. He … We had a memorial and everything.’ She trailed off. The other woman put a mug of tea in front of her. Holly, seeking mundane comfort, wrapped her hands around the hot mug, inhaling the steam.

DC Marriot was watching her, blue eyes intense, and when she spoke, she seemed to be choosing her words carefully. ‘We’ll talk to your dad next, and then your aunt. Holly, I’m sorry to have to ask this, but is there any possibility that your brother is still alive?’

Holly blinked hard, seeing his face, seeing Larissa’s face. The room seemed to spin, and her hands grasping the mug seemed her only link to reality. Christ, no wonder the child had seemed to have an edge of familiarity. There had been that niggling thought that she did know him, but she hadn’t been able to place him. Despite the fact Jayden had been blonde, and even though this kid had been asleep when she saw him, now she knew she realised he was the image of his dad.

They had always been a funny pair, her and her brother – striking, with their totally different looks. She was so dark, with her skin and hair colour a legacy from her mother, and he was so blonde and green-eyed. Donnie had been blonde of course, and when Jayden had been her dad’s golden boy, doing as he was told, it had all seemed perfect. Donnie had a son to take over the business, and that was all he cared about. But father and son had been estranged for years by the time Jayden died. Donnie hadn’t even bothered to come to the candlelit memorial Lydia had arranged when, seven years after they last saw him, Jayden Hughes was officially declared dead.

The police officers waited patiently, as she got a hold of herself, pushing through memories. ‘You lot told me he was dead! I saw what they did to Larissa and the baby, so I had no reason to assume otherwise. You said Jay’s blood was in the room, and his footprints, and then when that dealer said he’d helped get rid of his body …’ Holly was getting agitated again now, fighting her emotions, trying to stay in control. For the first time in ages, despite the recent dramas, she felt like she needed to fight. The sweet release of tension, the sweat and the pain in her muscles, and the high of victory that beat anything drugs could offer.

DS Harlow passed her a box of tissues, and she grabbed one, wiping away the tears in annoyance. She wasn’t generally a crier, but the last few months she seemed to have spent her whole time bursting into tears.

‘It’s okay to be upset and you don’t have to hide it. I’d be in total shock if it was me. This was eleven years ago, wasn’t it? Can you talk us through the last time you saw your brother?’ DS Harlow said gently. She was taking notes on a pad, chewing the end of her pen, whilst her colleague tapped away on her iPad.

‘You must have it all on file. You know all about it, and bloody DI Harper was there!’ It came out defensively, but DC Marriot just nodded. ‘Holly, I’m not going to lie to you, this is an oddball case. That’s why we are trying to get as much background as possible. Naturally DI Harper has provided us with the previous case files, and we know all the officers involved believed Jayden to be dead, even before he was legally declared so. There was never any mention of another child, though. We just think it might help to go over the details from your point of view again, which may in turn tell us why the boy is here.’

‘It won’t help me,’ Holly muttered, scrubbing at her flushed and wet cheeks with another tissue. What the hell was going on?

DC Marriot propped her chin on one hand, studying her iPad, eyes flicking from Holly to her screen. ‘There are other options, of course …’

‘Let’s go with the theory that this is Jayden’s son, to start off with,’ DS Harlow said, with a quick glance at her colleague.

Holly took a deep breath and waited another long moment. She found she was flexing her fingers, feeling a tremor that rippled along her biceps, instinctively clenching her fists. ‘I saw Jayden the week before Larissa was killed. He’d cleared off eighteen months previous and we thought that he’d moved right out the area. But he was waiting outside the gym late one night. I’d been teaching a class, and suddenly there he was, just the same as ever, asking for money. He asked for ten thousand pounds to pay off the dealer he owed. He knew I didn’t have that kind of money, but he said he was desperate. We’d been there before. I’d lent him money, my mum lent him money before she died, my aunt, everyone … I was … shocked to see him. Angry too. I thought he’d gone for good, and maybe finally sorted himself out.’

‘And your dad? Did he lend him money?’

‘No. He did to start with, when he thought Jay was going to be useful in the business. You know, dealing and that, but when Mum died he told Jay to fuck off, quit using the merchandise and sort his life out, so instead Jay worked mainly either dealing for the Balintas or helping out Gareth Nicholls on deliveries. You know, Nicholls Transport?’

‘We know it,’ DC Marriot said dryly, exchanging a quick, loaded glance with her colleague.

‘Joey and Gareth were pretty young when they first came down to the Seaview, and my dad always said they wanted to be the top dogs. They pretended to be happy with a three-way territory split with my dad, and Mason Balinta, but I know they started paying Alexi Mancini to do them favours, give them contacts, right after they arrived,’ Holly found she was rambling now, with Dev’s cheeky grin all mixed up with the horrors of the trial. But there were happy memories further back. All of them as kids, her and her best mate Cath beating the boys at basketball, and her discovery that she was good at boxing. Bloody good. She was soon competing for the local club, progressing to the NABC Boxing Championships, and it had escalated from there: the agent, the professional photos … It was a long time ago now.

‘Anyway, I haven’t seen my dad properly for years, and he’s only met Milo once. This is ancient history and it doesn’t change the fact that my brother was officially declared dead. When he died, I didn’t know he had one baby, let alone another child. If he survived though, and had a child to take care of, he would have contacted me, or Lydia.’ Or would he? Perhaps he knew what she had done, the betrayal of trust, of family ties and everything she had grown up with.

‘Go on. Humour me, Holly. The DI wants to help, and he knows we’re talking to you about this. He’d be here himself if he didn’t have another case running alongside this one.’ DC Marriot paused almost imperceptibly. ‘If there is a chance your brother is alive and back in the area, added to the fact that Niko and Devril are back in Westbourne, it would be a strange coincidence. As you say, the older generation of your families were once in business together, weren’t they?’

Holly ignored her question. What was going on? It would do no good to be chippy and defensive with the police though, not with something this important. She didn’t trust them, and years of prejudice didn’t vanish overnight. She forced her mind back eleven years, picturing her blonde, skinny brother, with his pointed chin, and hazel-flecked green eyes. His breath had been like white smoke in the wintry darkness outside the gym. She had still been in her kit, sweaty hair pulled back, hoodie thrown over her Lycra top. Her brother’s appearance, his pleading for money, had made her furious. ‘I told Jayden to fuck off. It was his usual form to beg for money. He would always say he was in danger, and as soon as he was bailed out, he’d get back into debt.’