“You’re doing it again,” I said with a smile. “You’re telling yourself off. You always do that. Stop blaming yourself for other people fucking up.”
She laughed. “You’re right. He’s the arsehole. I’m awesome.”
“Better.”
* * *
It wasn’t likethe first time we holed up, where we played games and watched DVDs. This time there was an uncomfortable atmosphere throughout the house. Denise flapped around making tea and sandwiches. She was much more present than she had been near the beginning of the investigation. Marcus came and went, constantly going for meetings at the police station. When he was here he had private conversations with Denise. Jake stayed off work for a day, but then went back to school on Thursday morning. While he was at home, he was like a bear with a thorn in its paw. He kept opening cupboards and then closing them. I often caught him staring at Aiden with narrowed eyes. More than once he suggested that Aiden should go to Rob’s parents’ B&B for the week, but when Jake’s lawyer heard of that plan, he told us not to do it. Apparently, if we did that it would raise suspicion.
But Rob did come to visit, which frankly was a huge help. He sat and drew with Aiden, not even balking at the strange jangle of black spirals that Aiden liked to scrawl. He brought DVDs we’d watched as teens. Nothing too violent or scary. Things likeThe Breakfast ClubandHome Alone. He brought pizza and told stupid jokes.Why do bananas have to put on sunscreen before they go to the beach? Because they might peel!
“You look better,” he said. It was Thursday afternoon, a mere few days since the ‘shrill’ video had gone viral. “You’ve got more colour about you. I reckon you need to get out of this house though.”
“I’m taking Aiden for another therapy session tomorrow.”
“Good,” he said with a nod. “Just be careful, okay? Did you think about what I said? About Jake?”
I nodded. “It’s not him, Rob. I’d know.”
He took my hands and smiled. “All right. I won’t mention it again. But if there’s anything you need, and I meananything, you call me. I’m talking ‘Wispa bar in the middle of the night’ shit. Remember when you were pregnant with Aiden and you sent me out for a jar of Nutella at 3am?”
“Oh yes, I remember that,” I said. “I didn’t even spread it on toast, I got a spoon.”
“That spread did not stand a chance.”
It had been a while since I’d laughed. I’d barely cracked a smile for days. We stood in the kitchen watching Aiden through the hallway as he sat on the sofa. The television was on, but I got the feeling he wasn’t watching it at all, and that made goose bumps appear along my arms.
“Do you think he’ll ever speak?” Rob asked.
“He will when he wants to tell us his story,” I said. It was what I always said when I answered that question. “But I want to hear his voice. I want to know what he sounds like. He won’t be like the little boy who disappeared all those years ago. I know that. He’ll have a deeper voice, like a man’s, I suppose. Right now he’s more like a shell than a person.”
“Aiden is in there. I’m sure of it.” Rob set down his mug to hook an arm around my waist. It felt natural. I was being comforted by the father of my child and it felt right. “It’s just going to take some time.”
“I’m so sick of time.” I shook my head. “Time is what I’ve been robbed of already. Time with my son. Buying him football boots when he grows out of his old ones. Arguing with him about tidying his room. Watching him awkwardly try to flirt with girls.”
Rob laughed through his nose. “You’ll still get to see him try to flirt with girls.”
“Will I? Rob, is he ever going to be normal? I know it’s early days, but can you ever imagine him at school or at university? I can’t imagine him interacting with anyone at the moment.” Though the words felt good to let out, they left a sour taste in my mouth, because deep down I knew them to be true. Aiden was damaged. He would never be like the other kids.
Rob’s arm tightened around my waist. He leaned into me and rested his head against mine. “We’ll figure it out, Em.”
And as we were stood there in the door of Jake’s kitchen, linked arm in arm, I genuinely believed it would be me and Rob who figured out the best path for Aiden. We were his parents, and we would know what was best for him. At that moment, I didn’t even think about Jake, though later I would look back and feel shame for not doing so.
The spell was broken when the door opened and Denise stepped in. “It’s chilly out there. The autumn is really setting in now. How’s Aiden doing?”
We’d stepped away from each other as Denise had walked in. It was a move we’d made countless times when we were young teens in love—every time my mum popped into my bedroom to deliver laundry. Well, we were like silly teenagers again.
“He’s fine,” I replied. “Any news from DCI Stevenson?” I idly let one hand stroke my belly.
“You’d better give him a call and speak to him yourself,” Denise said.
ChapterTwenty-Six
“Try again,” Rob insisted.
“I’ve called three times,” I replied.
“He’s bound to be in important meetings,” Denise chipped in.
