‘Good morning. DI Harte? Doctor Nowak.’ An older gentleman entered the room, holding his bony hand out towards her. Standing, Gina shook his hand. ‘The baby is doing fine. It may all look a little scary with the tube and monitors, but her weight dropped and we wanted to make sure she was well nourished. We’ll be removing that in a few hours. She isn’t sedated, just sleeping.’ Gina detected a slight accent as the doctor spoke. ‘How can I help you? We gave all the information we had to your DC Wyre last night.’
Gina brushed her creased trousers with her hands and scraped away a stray hair that was stuck to her face. ‘I know, and thank you for your assistance. The news of the baby has been released on the local news this morning. I’m just asking that you and the hospital staff keep an eye out for anyone acting suspiciously. The mother may come to the hospital to catch a glimpse of her baby and we are worried – as I know you are too – about her physical and mental health.’
The doctor lifted his glasses from the chain that hung around his neck and put them on. He grabbed the chart and scanned it as he spoke. ‘And I totally understand that. We will do everything we can to assist you with your enquiry. I will send out an immediate memo to all hospital staff.’ He clipped the chart to the end of the cot and walked towards the door. ‘I best get on with my rounds,’
‘Yes, thank you for your time.’ Gina listened as his footsteps disappeared down the long corridor. A chorus of babies cried in the distance. Gina turned to look at the infant in front of her. This baby hadn’t cried; this baby had barely moved; this baby had been deprived of her first moments to bond with her mother. The girl brought her little legs towards her chest, removing the blanket as she did so. Gina crept over towards the cot and pulled the blanket back over the baby. Although the hospital was kept at a warm temperature, she still felt a chill coming from the winter air as doors were opened and closed. She brought her hand gently towards the little one’s head and stroked her fine hair before leaving.
As she reached the nurses’ station, she searched for the nurse she’d spoken to on her arrival. The young dark-haired woman appeared from a side room. ‘Doctor Nowak’s sending a memo around shortly,’ said Gina. ‘Could you please be extra vigilant of anyone loitering or visiting? Here’s my card, should you need to report anything.’
The nurse smiled and took the card. ‘Will do,’ she replied. She left Gina standing alone as she continued with her duties. Gina pressed the release buzzer and left the ward, leaving the crying babies behind. As she turned onto the main corridor, she watched a man trailing a drip and wearing pyjamas. The two women and the child walking beside him bore a familial resemblance.
Who was she looking for? Someone who was alone, someone who looked scared, someone who was anxiously trying to find a way of checking on the baby without looking suspicious. The corridor was dotted with people.
Two nurses wheeled a man on a bed into a lift. A woman with a child got out of the lift, followed by a tall man wearing a woollen hat and wrapped in a scarf. He bumped her arm as he passed. She turned to see him rubbing his neck, but he didn’t look back. ‘Sorry,’ Gina called. The man continued walking without acknowledging her apology. She turned and watched as he slowed down outside the ward. She hadn’t caught his features as he passed. He bent down and tied a shoelace before continuing towards the coronary ward.
She shook her head, checked her phone and picked up the pace. There’s no way she could vet every passer-by in the next five minutes. The man with the woollen hat had gone, and another man wearing a huge smile, carrying a box of chocolates, walked into view from the other direction and entered the maternity ward.
She looked at her watch. Hannah was bringing Gracie, her granddaughter, over that evening for a visit. Her phone beeped as she left the hospital and her signal returned. It then rang. ‘Jacob,’ she said, as she snatched the car keys from her pocket.
‘Are you on your way back? Wyre has had a mass of calls to process.’
‘Sure am. See you in a few minutes,’ she replied, as she started the engine up and headed straight back to the station.
Seven
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can put lunch on for you,’ Cathy called up the stairs.
Luke hung up his shirt and slipped his blue jumper over his head. He slapped a bit of aftershave on his chin and smiled at his reflection. His teeth were clean, he still had most of his fair hair and all the coffee he’d consumed earlier in the day ensured that he still looked awake. He’d made it home from the house viewing just in time to pick Max and Heidi up from Jake’s birthday party, but he needed to hurry. He glanced once more at his reflection. He had to make an effort to move on. Brooke was good for him.
‘Luke?’ she called again. He swallowed as he took the photo of Debbie from his bedside table and placed it in the top drawer.
‘Sorry, I was in a world of my own. You should get off home and have some rest. You do too much for us. There’s a box of your favourite chocolate truffles on the side,’ he said as he ran down the stairs and grabbed his coat. He checked his watch. Brooke would be knocking in several minutes. He was early, and he was staring at the door. It wasn’t like he’d never been on a date before. After all, he was thirty-eight years old. And walking to another kid’s house to collect their respective kids was hardly a date. After being friends for almost two years, he hadn’t been sure he was ready to risk it all and try for a relationship, but things had just happened. He listened as Cathy put the plates away in the kitchen.
He’d found it hard to focus that day, preoccupied with thoughts of their kiss the previous evening. They’d spent the rest of the night texting each other. Awkwardness had turned into a natural fondness. For the first time since… He looked down and ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t live in the past any longer.
He didn’t know what had happened or where she’d gone, but it had been four long years and Debbie hadn’t tried to contact them at all. No one had seen her and initial police investigations and appeals had come back with nothing. He flinched as his fist hit the wall and a tear escaped down his cheek. He’d spent weeks, months even, drinking in the Angel Arms, scrutinising everyone, but he’d come up with nothing but a continuous hangover. He’d watched her workplace as the men arrived and left until it had become all-consuming. Cathy had eventually pulled him out of the gutter, and she’d been there for him and the kids every day since.
Everyone told him that it was time to move on. Even Cathy, Debbie’s own mother, had encouraged him. ‘Brooke’s a nice young lady,’ she’d say. He shrugged it off every time. But he’d been lonely since Debbie’s disappearance, and while he’d never stop thinking about her, he needed to live, he needed a life. His children needed some normality back in their lives and Brooke represented that normality.
Cathy trudged into the hall, holding the chocolates in one hand and her overcoat in the other. ‘I love these but you didn’t have to. I know money’s tight and you have my lovely grandchildren to bring up. The washing-up is all put away.’
He took the coat out of her arms and held it up for her. ‘I’ve sold some expensive houses this month, Cathy. And I want you to always know that we’re grateful for everything you do. I don’t know how we’d manage without you. Thanks for everything.’
Cathy smiled as she buttoned her coat up. ‘I see you took my advice.’
‘What advice was that?’