"No," Anand said firmly. She met his eyes, steady and unflinching. "You're not under investigation, Mr. Ashbourne. We will be assessing the risk to your daughter going forward and the mental capacity of the other carer involved. I understand that you didn't intend to leave her with Ms. Havers—that was your mother's doing without your permission." She flicked a glance toward Coral, hat slipping sideways as she laughed at something Davis said. "She's safe now, and that'swhat matters. However, there is the matter of Ms. Havers and your mother. And Jacob."
He felt Fern shift beside him at the name.
Anand opened her notebook. The questions came one after another, all in that same measured tone.
Had there been previous incidents of injury? Had Matilda ever made threats? How long had he suspected she wasn't coping? How long had she been using drugs? Had he ever left Coral alone in her care for prolonged periods? How much access did Matilda have to their house? Had there been any... history between Fern and Matilda that might have escalated the situation? What about him and Matilda?
Each answer felt like walking a tightrope. Connor could see Fern's white knuckles where her hands were laced together in her lap, her full lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. He could feel how her tension rolled off her in waves as he started to talk.
He didn't pretty it up.
He told them about the years of being kept dangling, the way Matilda would pressure him and push him around with threats. About the first time she'd threatened to accuse him of rape if he didn't return. About how, when he asked for a paternity test for Jacob, she'd dug her heels in and refused.
"She knew exactly what she was doing," he finished, unable to meet the DC’s eyes. "She'd wait until I was about to walk and then say she could ruin my life. That no one would believe me over her."
"Do you have any evidence to support that?" Anand asked, pen poised.
He opened his mouth to say no—because, for years, there hadn't been anything, just his word against hers—then stopped. His handautomatically went to his hoodie pocket, fingers closing around his phone.
"Not from before," he said slowly. "She never texted or did voice notes; she knew better than that. She'd only say stuff like 'I can ruin your life' or 'You'll be sorry' in person." He unlocked the phone, thumb shaking just a little. "But yesterday... "
Fern's head snapped to him.
Connor scrolled, found the file, and turned the volume down a notch before pressing play. He set the phone on the table between them, then seemed to think better of it and offered the DC his headphones after a quick side-eye at Coral. Both he and Fern had heard the recording many times.
"—you think you can get away with this, you stupid little wanker?" Matilda screamed, every word chosen to make him bleed. "You and your precious wife with her little complaint? You think they'll listen to her? To you? They have taken Jacob away… you hear me? You are not going to get away with this. I'll make you both pay for this, Connor, I swear to God."
On the recording, Matilda didn't pause.
"I'll go on Facebook, I'll go on TikTok. I'll go anywhere I fucking want, and I'll tell them all what you did. I'll say you raped me, d'you hear me? I'll say you forced me, that you trapped me with a baby and walked out."
Her laugh was high and wild.
"Who are they going to believe, eh? The big, ham-handed mechanic, or the fragile, bipolar, broken girl he messed up? The poor single mum he abandoned?"
From there, the message dissolved into a torrent of abuse—her calling Fern every name she could reach for, the word bitch and whore used like punctuation, spitting out promises to "take Jacob and disappear" and "make sure you never see your precious Coral again," threats overlapping until the call cut off abruptly.
Silence reigned around the table.
Connor's fingertip hovered over the screen, the replay icon pulsing faintly.
"I saved it because she was... completely gone," he said quietly. "I thought if she did something, and nobody believed us, at least there'd be that."
"In case no one believed you," Anand finished, her voice softer now.
He nodded, unable to look at Fern, who sat rigid beside him, eyes fixed on the phone.
"Thank you," Anand said. "This will be useful, Mr. Ashbourne. If you're willing to forward a copy, we'll add it to the evidence bundle."
"Yeah," he said, throat tight. "Whatever you need."
"Where is she now?" Fern asked.
Anand exhaled. "She's been detained under Section Two of the Mental Health Act for assessment. That's an initial twenty-eight-day hold. Given the circumstances, it's likely to be converted to a longer section, but that'll be for the consultant psychiatrist and the tribunal to decide."
Locked up somewhere.The words went round and round in Connor's head. It felt like a temporary reprieve as he imagined Matilda stripped of her usual arrogance, pacing a ward wearing paper slippers.
"And Jacob?" Fern's voice softened around the boy's name.
