‘It’s cruel, don’t you think?’
Hudson tugged a baby wipe from the packet in the centre of the table and after a quick clean of Carys’s face, much to her disgust, he gave her another fresh wipe to do her own hands. ‘It is cruel if you think about the basic facts but there’s usually more to it than what you see on the surface. Whoever did it would have had reasons neither you nor I can hope to understand, not right now.’
‘Do you think you’ll find the person?’
His son might be rude and snappy a lot of the time but inside that tough shell he displayed with Hudson was a heart of gold, asoft side, the son who had shed tears on his first day at school, the son who had done his best to stand up tall when he was tackled so roughly in a school game of rugby that he got a mild concussion. There was a time when Beau had been fascinated by his dad’s job too – he might not be up in the air with The Skylarks but the fact that his dad worked for an air ambulance charity had, a few years ago, been something Beau boasted about to anyone who would listen. He’d loved to hear the helicopters going up in the air, had watched them from ground level until they disappeared out of sight.
Hudson missed that kid, he really did. And he hoped that one day, when things settled, perhaps he might get to see him again.
‘I hope someone comes forward, I really do. For now, the baby is safe.’ Hudson put a hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘Want some dessert before you go up?’
‘Can I take it to my room?’
‘Sure. Just don’t get it on your books or your laptop.’
‘I’m not Carys,’ he said with a typical roll of the eyes.
Hudson dished up ice cream and distributed freshly washed and hulled strawberry pieces to each bowl and handed one to Beau.
‘Dad… what if they never find the baby’s mother? Or father?’
‘Then she’ll go into foster care indefinitely until a permanent family is found.’
Hudson wasn’t sure but he thought he heard Beau mumble something as he walked off about it not being right, not being fair. Hudson liked to think that maybe his son was counting his blessings, that maybe this sort of thing reminded him of how lucky he was.
Hudson and Lucinda had made the decision to separate long before she moved out. They’d kept up a pretence in separate bedrooms while she found a flat to rent, and while they initiated divorce proceedings and the process began, with neither of themcontesting anything along the way. They’d agreed that Hudson would keep custody of the kids while she had full visitation rights. She didn’t use those rights as much as she could, but it was an arrangement they’d both been happy with and the one they saw as causing the least amount of upset and disruption for the kids. At least that was their prediction but it hadn’t gone as smoothly as they’d hoped.
Carys had regressed with her toilet training and had frequent accidents, she’d been clingy, she’d been difficult to put down at night and almost impossible to leave at childcare or even with Hudson’s parents. Slowly, she’d returned to her normal cute, content smiley self. She’d been the easy one compared to her older brother.
Beau was at an age where he had his own, sometimes very strong, opinions which were out of anyone else’s control. He’d dealt with their initial announcement in his own way – at first he’d gone quiet and seemed calm but what followed was a storm unleashed in the form of rebellion at school. He’d skived off lessons twice, been in detention for talking back to a teacher and another time for failing to hand in homework for the third time in a row. For a while, he’d talked back to Hudson, shouted and sworn at him, in a way he never had before. He didn’t do that so much any more, he was more likely to offer up the silent treatment, but Hudson wasn’t sure which of those behaviours he preferred.
And Hudson had no idea whether he’d seen the worst from Beau yet or whether that might still be to come.
Throughout all of this, Hudson had kept his home life quiet from his life with The Skylarks. It had been his way of coping, at first to pretend it wasn’t really happening and then just because he didn’t want to be asked about it, he didn’t want to admit what a total shitshow his life had become and how he hadn’t been able to see what was going on. He always knew he’d tell peopleeventually but he wanted to get himself and the kids in a better place first. In the meantime, his parents had been by his side; they’d been his counsel, his outlet.
During the separation and the divorce proceedings, another relationship had been the last thing on Hudson’s mind, especially when Lucinda had already met someone else who seemed a bit more of a permanent fixture given he’d met the kids. Whoever the man was, and Beau didn’t give much away, the new relationship hadn’t gone down well with Beau and Hudson wouldn’t make things any more complicated for his son or his daughter. He vowed to leave his personal life until the kids’ altered lives settled down and they felt safe, not like something else was about to blow their world apart.
That was all good in theory. But lately, he and Nadia had worked a lot closer together on some serious cases, especially since Paige had reduced her hours, and the more time they spent together, the stronger his feelings became. Seeing her with baby Lena at the hospital had ignited a burning desire to get to know her more.
But he sometimes got the impression she was hiding just as much, if not more, than he was.
7
It had been ten days since baby Lena was found at the door to the Whistlestop River Air Ambulance base and a week since she was placed with a foster carer right here in town. Nadia had, with permission from social services, arranged to go and visit the foster parent, Sybil, and see how Lena was doing.
Sybil answered the door with a toddler in her arms – a toddler who looked like they’d just woken up.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Nadia cringed. ‘Is now all right? I thought lunch time would be best.’ She was rambling like an idiot.
‘Lunch time is fine.’ Sybil smiled. ‘Please come in, it’s wonderful to meet you.’ Without putting the toddler down, she held out a hand for Nadia to shake.
Nadia stepped inside the home, welcomed by the aroma of freshly toasted bread.
‘I just wanted to see how she’s doing.’
‘Of course, of course. I saw you on the television; you did well speaking in front of the camera – not sure I’d be able to do it.’
‘It wasn’t so bad.’ The toddler in Sybil’s arms surreptitiously glanced Nadia’s way before burying his face in his carer’s shoulder again. ‘Who’s this little man?’
