A doctor entered and grabbed the chart from the end of the crib. ‘Are you relatives?’ he asked.
‘Hello. Doctor Nowak, isn’t it. We met the other day,’ Gina said as she beckoned for the doctor to follow her outside the room. Devina followed, closing the door behind them. Luke peered out. He knew they were discussing their situation, their rights and the baby’s needs. He gripped Cathy’s hand and sat down. ‘I’m not prepared to let Debbie down. I know we can do this. I don’t know what we’ll say to Max and Heidi, but we’ll think of something.’
Cathy smiled. ‘They’ll be fine. We’ll work something out.’ She continued to rub Luke’s back. ‘We must think of a name. She can’t be called Baby Jenkins forever. Did Debbie ever tell you about her doll, Isobel?’
‘No. I don’t think so,’ he replied, wiping his eyes with his hand.
‘When she was a little girl, we used to read her this story about a little girl called Isobel who had the most awful nightmares. Debbie used to get nightmares sometimes, which is why we got her the book. In the story, one night, after a battle with the monsters under her bed, Isobel realises that they were only nightmares and that she ultimately has the power over them, as they aren’t real. Debbie’s father was working away one time, and he brought her back a rag doll. She loved the doll and called her Isobel, after the girl in the story. She went everywhere with the doll, until she started senior school and grew up, that is.’
‘And met me,’ he said with a smile.
‘And met you. My wonderful son-in-law and the best father in the world. When she first brought you home I made you each a fish finger sandwich. I knew then that you were the one for my daughter.’ Cathy leaned over the crib and lifted the baby up. She hugged her gently, carefully cradling her head.
Luke noticed Devina looking at him through the window in the door, checking his responses. He stroked the baby’s hair. ‘I love the name Isobel. Isobel Jenkins sounds like it was always meant to be.’
‘Are you ready to hold her?’
He reached out and took the tiny baby from Cathy. He was surprised at how light she was. He remembered Max and Heidi being quite chunky babies. Isobel was a dainty little flower. His arm shook as he laid her against his chest. Her warmth seeped through his T-shirt. The little one gurgled and brought her hands to her face before sucking on her knuckles. ‘You were right, about her being hungry.’ He kissed the top of her head and placed her back in Cathy’s arms.
‘We’re all going to be just fine. I’m going to be with you on this, every step of the way. We can do this.’ He smiled. Cathy was right. She was always right, and with her help he knew Isobel would be just fine. He thought back to sleepless nights, teething and nappies. What if Debbie never came home? Could he cope? His heart began to race. He closed his eyes and swallowed. One minute he was filled with optimism, the next with doubt. He opened his eyes and noticed Devina taking notes and glancing up at him, scrutinising his every move and reaction. Every part of him wanted to scream, to shout and punch the door, but he couldn’t lose control. He had Cathy and Isobel to think of. He had to be the man Debbie needed.
Eighteen
‘We’ve finished setting up the incident room,’ DC Paula Wyre said as Gina walked through the door.
‘That’s great, thank you.’ Gina returned Wyre’s smile. She reached for the crumpled tissue in her pocket and wiped the bottom of her scabby nose.
‘Looks sore, guv.’
‘It is, and it’s getting worse with every wipe. I certainly wish this cold would do one.’ She looked at Wyre. ‘How on earth do you manage to look so… tidy? It’s like we’re always here, always busy, always into one case or another. I don’t know how you do it. I feel like a tramp some days.’
‘Err…’ Wyre shrugged her shoulders and smiled at Gina.
‘I’ll catch you in a minute.’
‘Thanks, guv.’ Wyre headed towards the incident room.
Jacob entered from the corridor. ‘Did it go well at the hospital?’
Gina removed her coat and hung it over her arm. ‘As well as it could. I can’t imagine what they’re going through.’ She followed him past several offices to the incident room. ‘It’s great to see you’ve all been so busy. Nice work.’ She threw her coat over the back of a chair and proceeded to the board, on which all the information they’d collated so far was written or attached. In the centre was a photo of Deborah Jenkins. The young, healthy woman smiled out at her. Details of her family life were outlined. The witnesses were listed under five headings: school contacts; colleagues; social life; family; and other. The list was huge. They’d contacted so many people after she’d first disappeared.
A map of Warwickshire and Worcestershire had been hung on the wall, to the left of the board. Cleevesford had been outlined in red. Her eyes trailed over the pins, starting at the point they’d found her shoe to the point they’d discovered Baby Jenkins. She grabbed another pin and placed it on Luke’s house on the map. Photos of the school, her work and everywhere else she frequented were also pinned under their headings. She turned her attention to O’Connor, who was sitting in a chair facing away, wearing earphones. He had one hand on his keyboard and the other was scratching his head. He flinched as she tapped him on the shoulder.
He fumbled with his computer and attempted to remove the earphones that had got caught in his badly knotted tie. ‘You’re back. I was just going through the calls to see if I could find anything in them.’
‘Anything standing out as useful?’ Gina asked.
‘No, not as yet. We’ve had a few new ones. I’m working through them at the moment. Wyre and I divided them up after we pinned all the info to the boards as you requested. Mrs O has made cupcakes, by the way. Help yourself. They’re over by the coffee pot.’
‘Thanks. Will do. I won’t keep you any longer. Let me know straight away if anything that might be of use comes up,’ Gina replied as she began to cough, only catching it in her hands at the last minute.
O’Connor held his hand over his mouth. ‘Sorry, guv, I don’t want to catch it, not with my bike ride coming up.’
‘Don’t blame you. Sorry.’
O’Connor smiled and placed his earphones back in. Gina walked over to the kitchenette and grabbed the coffee pot, pouring a cup of the strong dark liquid and taking a long swig, savouring its soothing properties as it trickled down her sore throat. A tickle caught her tonsils and she began to cough and splutter again. Great, the sneezing and headaches were subsiding, only to be replaced by a sore throat and an annoying cough.
‘You okay?’ Briggs handed Gina a handful of old crumpled tissues that he dragged from his pocket.
‘I think I’d rather use my sleeve. I don’t know where they’ve been,’ she said as she handed them back to him.
‘Your loss,’ he replied, smiling as he grabbed a pink cupcake and took a bite.
‘They’re bad for your waistline.’
‘I think I’m past caring,’ he said as he patted his belly ‘I also think O’Connor’s a bit offended, as I never eat any of his wife’s baked goodies.’ Just as he said it, O’Connor turned and spotted him eating a cupcake. Briggs held it up and smiled. ‘I’m eating one,’ he called out. O’Connor shrugged and pointed at his earphones.
‘He’s not listening.’ Gina coughed again and cleared her throat, unsure of what to say next.
Briggs nodded as he chomped on a mouthful of cake. ‘You know, they’re pretty damn good.’ He held the plate up.
‘No, I think I’ll pass.’
‘Do you fancy a drink later? We could try the new wine bar in Stratford, sit and look out at the river, get away from things for a couple of hours. I hear the Christmas decorations are good this year on the High Street.’