Now, with the bright hospital lights overhead, Stevenson bobbed his head up and down and cooed at my baby. The smile on his face was genuine, and I was pleased with us all for surviving this long, arduous journey.
“How’s Rob?” I asked.
“Stable, they say,” he answered. “We got to him in the nick of time, I reckon.”
“And Josie?”
“She was tied up to her bed with a gag over her mouth. She’s shaken up, but she’s given us a statement about Jake. He dragged her up there and tied her up, but aside from a few bruises she hasn’t been hurt.”
I nodded. Aiden carried Gina to the other side of the room and sat down in the visitor’s chair.
“Jake?”
“Deceased.”
I nodded. I wasn’t happy about it. I wouldn’t be dancing over his grave or breaking out the champagne, but I was relieved, and that relief lifted a heavy weight from my heart. It was over. Or, at least, it was almost over.
“And the bunker?”
“There’s not much we can do at night. Forensics will go in first thing in the morning. We’ll need Aiden to make a statement. Is he… is he talking?”
“A little.”
DCI Stevenson rocked back on his heels, awkwardly. “That’s good.”
“There’s one other thing,” I said.
“What is it?” Stevenson asked, frowning.
* * *
I knewthat one day Aiden would want to tell his story. Some stories are told from the beginning, and they don’t stop until the final word. Some stories start at the end or the middle, and they show you the beginning. I knew that Aiden’s story would take a lifetime to tell, but we had the rest of our lives to explore it. In the week that followed Gina’s birth (not Jake’s death, not the discovery of Hugh or Rob’s assault; it was Gina’s birth, the start of life), Aiden revealed a tiny island in the midst of an ocean. The glimpse he showed me was enough for the time being. I knew he would show me the rest when he was ready.
Why was I so confident that Aiden would tell me his story? Because we tell stories to heal. Aiden has a lot of healing to do. We both do. We’ll both be healing together.
Forensics found Hugh’s DNA all over the bunker. They found the paperwork detailing the purchase of land in Rough Valley Forest. No one had been suspicious because of Hugh’s dealings with various property developers. A few companies had bought small plots of Rough Valley, but no one had built on the land. Hardly anyone ever went into Rough Valley Forest, a fact that Hugh had exploited.
After an appeal for information, a builder came forward to admit he’d been hired to adapt an old World War II bunker as a living space. Hugh had told the man that he was thinking of turning it into some sort of ‘glamping’ spot. The place was decked out like a caravan, with a portable water tank and a generator for electricity. Hugh would need to replace them on a regular basis so Aiden could survive on his own in the woods. Because the part of the woods Hugh bought was private property, none of the public paths went even close to the bunker where my son was kept. No one heard the generator. No one. When Aiden escaped, he told me he was afraid he’d be in trouble for killing Hugh. He had turned the generator off and hid it beneath a pile of leaves.
There was no record of the bunker on any plans or included in any maps. Hugh had thought this endeavour through from the beginning to the very end. Aiden told me about Hugh’s intentions to end it by killing him, but how he had been unable to do it in the end. I didn’t like to think about what had happened the day Aiden escaped from the bunker.
I had a hard time putting together the idea of the Hugh who invited me into his home, who made us delicious roast dinners and served us fine wine, with the Hugh who snuck away from home and work to visit my kidnapped son in his private bunker. But I learned a lot about Hugh from Aiden.
Josie came to see me in hospital after Gina was born. She was in tears. Her shirt was on inside out. I gently told her to turn it the right way, and she stared at me open-mouthed.
“Tell me,” I said. “Tell me you didn’t know.”
“I thought it was affairs,” she said. “That’s what everyone told me. They saw him with women. I just…”
“The day of the flood. You were there. Were you stalling me?” I asked.
She shook her head so quickly that she seemed almost manic. “No. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I…”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I know you didn’t know. He went to extreme lengths to hide this side of himself. I don’t blame you.” I reached out and took her hand.
“I should have seen it.” She wiped tears away with the back of her hand. “I should have known the signs. After things with my dad… I thought I’d recognise it if it ever happened again.”
“I keep thinking about one night when Aiden was, I don’t know, maybe two or three, and we stayed at your place for the night. Hugh took Aiden to bed, all wrapped up in his arms. I followed them up the stairs a few minutes later and watched him tuck Aiden into bed. He was singing this lullaby really softly. I remember thinking about what a good dad he’d make. I went into the bathroom, and I cried for you both, because you couldn’t have children and you so deserved them.” I shook my head. “I was so wrong. And I should have known that day when Aiden sang that little song to himself. It was the same song. I should have known. Instead, all these weeks I’ve been afraid of a ghost while my own husband…”
