Chapter Text
It was the middle of a late November night, cold and chilly, snow already lying outside the flat, thin and grey, frozen solid; a dirty ice rink on the paths. The sky was clear, Orion high in the sky over the partially lit Oxford City skyline. In Lewis’ flat, both he and his partner in many senses of the word, James Hathaway, were curled up asleep under a 15 tog duvet, huddled together that night not so much for love or sexual desire, but merely warmth; the heating in the whole unit having packed up earlier that day.
A sudden loud, insistent buzzing of the doorbell woke them both up. Robbie grabbed the alarm clock while James sleepily tumbled out of bed, gasping at the cold air. He grabbed his black fleece off the floor and pulled it on over his blue t-shirt and grey check pj bottoms. He headed for the front door, shivering. Robbie followed, doing up his bathrobe over blue pyjamas and the switching the light on. It was just past 3am. It couldn’t be work or Lyn, as both would have phoned.
James opened the flat door. A woman was running down the corridor and a baby car seat, a dirty, torn car seat containing a dark skinned baby, left on the doorstep. He yelled and leapt over the baby, running after the woman. She got in the lift just as he reached her, so he pounded down the stairs and out of the front door, bare feet slipping on the ice.
The woman had just got into a red car, driven by a man with a familiar face. Constantly repeating the licence plate aloud James, shivering, picked himself up off the pavement and returned into the flat.
In the flat, Robbie had brought the baby inside. It had woken, and was emitting a thin, distressed wail. Robbie began to speak, but James held up a hand to silence him, grabbing pen and paper and writing down the plate number before he forgot it. Once he’d written the number he turned to look at Robbie.
“We need to call social service,” Robbie said.
James shook his head. “You probably want to hold off for a while. I recognized the driver, the father presumably.”
“Recognized? Who?”
“From photos, mainly. From you, too.” James picked up a photo, one of many that still dotted the flat. This one was of Val and Mark, some family holiday the summer before she died. He held it up. “Older, thinner. Beard. Definitely him. Your son. And look at her.” James walked over to the baby, still crying a thin, pathetic wail, as if she knew screaming was no good, no-one would come. She stopped as soon as James picked her up, holding her gently but firmly to his chest. Robbie thought she looked surprised, and James was right, she had the look of Lyn as a baby, a dark skinned, Afro haired Lyn.
“Oh God,” moaned James. “She’s filthy.”
Indeed she was, her nappy was so full and heavy it was leaking everything, not just urine. Her clothes were filthy, dirty, stained. She smelt alarming. She was so tiny, but she was too alert and able to be anything less than eight months old.
James had had very little to do with babies, much less than Robbie Lewis, he supposed, but if Robbie was just going to keep standing there in the middle of the lounge looking a bit gormless with shock he knew he had to do something. Besides, Robbie was so much older and old fashioned, it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that he’d been a completely hands off father when his kids were small, leaving everything to Val.
James ran a tepid bath to a couple of centimetres deep and washed her quickly and then cut up a towel to make a makeshift nappy. He wrapped her up in another towel and his fleece. She continued to shiver so he stretched a purple sock on her head to make a makeshift hat. He told he she looked cute in his sock and showed her her reflection, but her eyes for the most part seemed unfocused and listless.
When he returned to the living room Robbie had made tea and heated some milk. He’d also plugged in the electric fan heater. James sat down on the sofa, cradling the baby, trying to get her to take the milk from a teaspoon. Robbie wouldn’t look at him, or rather look at the baby, his granddaughter. As soon as the baby was asleep again Robbie handed James a note.
‘Dad,
‘Nadia and I can’t cope right now. We will be in touch soon.
‘Her name is Molly and she is 9 months old.
‘Mark.’
“She’s very tiny for 9 months old.”
“She’s filthy and neglected, is what she bloody is!” Robbie hissed, wanting to shout. “You need to get that licence plate chased and on to social services. I thought he was still in Australia.”
James subconsciously, imperceptivity, tightened his hold on Molly. “Robbie, she’s your granddaughter as much as Lyn’s baby.”
“Your point being?”
“You hand her over now, you or Mark will probably never see her again. Give Mark and his girlfriend time.”
“Look at her! They’re not fit parents. I can’t believe it. We didn’t bring him up to behave like this. What’s got into Mark?”
The answer drugs, probably, flitted into James’ head, but he wisely kept silent.
Robbie forced himself to look at the baby, at Molly Lewis. She did have the look of Lyn and Mark as babies; he could see Val in her. There was something about the eyes that was probably a bit of him, too.
“Well, we need to put a discreet trace on the car, at least. Find them. But we do need to get social services, James. We’re police officers, man. We need to do this by the book. I’m her grandfather and Mark’s asked me to look after her, so they should give me temporary custody, if they think I could cope, which I doubt. I’m nearly bloody 60.”
“I’ll look after her,” James said fiercely. “I’ll take time of work, move in properly now and...”
“What? Let everyone at work in on our relationship? Bugger any chance of promotion?”
“I don’t care. She’s your granddaughter and she needs a home. You don’t really want her spending her childhood moving from foster home to foster home, do you?”
Robbie stared at James holding his granddaughter long and hard and sighed. “I think I’m seeing a whole side of you I didn’t know existed. Maybe you didn’t even know existed. I don’t even know how you seem to know what to do with her.”
“Instinct and common sense, mostly, I suppose. I’ll just ring in sick for now. You go to work and trace them. And Robbie?”
“Yes James?”
“Get dressed and go to Tescos. We need nappies, wipes, formula, bottles, a sterilizer, clothes, a cot, a buggy, a new car seat, a high chair, baby food...”
“Breathe James. Hold on a minute. I’ll get the milk and nappies and clothes, okay? The rest of the stuff can wait.”
“And toys,” James added quietly. “There’s not even one soft toy with her.”
*
Meanwhile, Mark and Nadia were driving towards Blackbird Leys, Mark swearing, Nadia laughing hysterically. When Mark’s phone rang, Black Eye Pea’s ‘Imma Be’ as its ring tone, Nadia’s laughing hiccoughed to a sob.
“Yeah. Yeah. We’re on our way mate.” Nearly ten years in Australia had mangled Mark’s Oxfordshire accent to a half-Australian twang.
“Yeah. But even at this time of night it takes forever ’round the M25, especially with ice on the road, lanes closed and mate, you go over 30 you’re gonna die.
“Yeah, but imagine the scene when we’re pulled out. What they gonna find in our car, eh? You want this gear or what?
“Bit lost, mate, tell the truth. Long time since I was here, and I didn’t drive then. I’m going past the Blackbird now,” Mark lied, driving past the Cowley Centre shopping centre. He hung up and tossed the phone to Nadia.
“Who was that bloke chasing you?”
“Dunno. He was in your dad’s flat.” Her accent was very strong; Nadia was half Aboriginal, half Greek, all Australian.
“You sure you got the right flat, you stupid bitch?”
“Don’t have a go at me, you bastard. Yeah. Yeah, it was. I recognized the old guy from your photos of your parents you got in your wallet. Wrinkled and grey, but same bloke, sure.”
“Dad told me it was a one bed flat.”
“So, perhaps your dad’s gone gay.”
“Don’t be sick, Nads.”
“I dunno. He was cute. Young. Blond. Leggy.”
“My dad is so not gay, you just shut the fuck up about it!”
*
Robbie Lewis was now also on the road, driving through slush up to Cowley Tescos. Despite James’ warnings, he phoned into control and got them to check the licence plate, only informing it was just a bit suspicious around his block of flats. He never mentioned the baby.
*
James Hathaway was now pacing the floor in front of the fan heater, cradling and rocking a screaming Molly Lewis, feeling panicked and wondering what the hell he’d insisted on taking on.
*
Mark Lewis climbed back in the car, which was parked outside a half empty 1960s shopping parade. He had the beginning of black eye.
“You alright?”
“Bastard didn’t believe that was the lot. We had words. You should see him.”
“Did you get the money?”
“Yeah,” Mark flashed a wad of twenty pounds notes. Nadia began to laugh hysterically again.
As he drove Mark’s thoughts returned to the mysterious man who had chased Nadia. “Did it look like he’d been sleeping on the sofa?”
“How do you I know, Mark? I legged it as soon as I rang the bell. Look, mate, why worry?”
“Might be his DS. Might call the social in. We want Molly back, right?”
“If she stops crying. You don’t want Molls; don’t kid yourself. You yell at her and me all the bloody time, mate. Don’t you?”
“Pass me my phone. This is doing me head in.”
He tried to scroll down his contacts but the car skidded on the ice, slush and salt. “Oh, hell! You do it!” He tossed the phone back to Nadia. “Find Lyn, block the number before you call. Put it on speaker, and for God’s sake, don’t laugh!”
“Why?”
“I want to know who the guy is. It’s doing me head in. I can’t get it out of me head, my Dad and him. Ugh!”
Nadia did as she was told, wondering what Mark would do if Lyn told him his Dad was gay.
“Hello,” Lyn answered sleepily.
“Hi Lyn. It’s Mark.”
“Mark!” she squealed. “Long, long time no hear. Do you know the time over here? You sound Australian, did you know that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Sorry about the time, sis, I forgot. Look, a mate sent me this e-mail and it’s doing in my head in.”
“What?”
“He says Dad’s got a bloke living with him. Young. Blond. Tall. About our age, give or take.”
“That’s James Hathaway.”
“And?”
“Look, I think it’s up to Dad to tell you. I thought he did. I know he wants to invite you. I know he’d given up trying to call you and was going to e-mail you.”
“What for?”
“Well, it’s up to Dad to...”
“Invite me to what Lyn? Who is he?”
“James. He’s Dad’s DS. Or was, I think. Might still work for him, but I’d have thought it was against regulations but Dad’s retiring soon and maybe...”
“Lyn. Cut to the chase, will you? It’s costing a bomb. I never got any e-mails from Dad.”
“Sorry Mark, this might come as a shock. It did to me, but then I thought about it and thought anyone would be a shock, a woman his own age even, Laura Hobson even, and I did think... I really did struggle to get my head round it, you know? But actually, James is really, really nice and he seems to make Dad happy and...”
“Lyn! For fuck’s sake! What are you saying?”
“He’s Dad’s boyfriend. They’re having a Civil Partnership ceremony in three months. When Dad retires. He wanted to invite you.”
“No way! I’m not going. You can tell him that. It’s sick!”
“Mark!”
Mark hung up.
*
By five o’clock James was getting panicky. He’d moved the fan heater to the bedroom so he could lie back, if not sleep, but still he had to cradle Molly. She’d gone through four makeshift nappies, and if she’d soiled this one he would have to start cutting up another towel. He’d given her boiled milk and sugared water from a teaspoon and from a cup, which she’d dribbled all over herself. He’d give her a piece of bread to chew on in case she was hungry and slices of cucumber to suck, in case she was teething, but she’d thrown up the bread and dribbled over the cucumber. She didn’t scream like most babies he’d heard, although he hadn’t really been paying attention. Molly kind of moaned, a heart wrenching, pitiful, non-stop moan. He didn’t think she was well.
At half past five Molly had finally cried herself into a fitful, exhausted sleep. James, exhausted himself, switched off the fan heater and pulled the quilt over the two of them. He knew he should phone Robbie, who had been gone over two hours now and there was ice and snow on the roads and somewhere, beneath his panic about and worry for Molly and his exhaustion, he was frightened Robbie had skidded on the icy roads and had crashed. However, exhaustion won and he fell asleep.
Robbie returned half an hour later, at the same time as the maintenance engineer. It looked like they were getting their heating back. Thank heaven for small mercies. He shook James awake.
“Wha-what? Oh. It’s you Sir.”
“Don’t call me Sir, sleepy head. Not the time or the place.”
James sat up, flushed. He checked Molly was fine, that she hadn’t been squashed or suffocated by the quilt.
“She’s fine,” Robbie said, looking at his granddaughter a lot more fondly than he had before he’d left.
“I think she’d sick.”
“Yeah. Well. We’ll have to sort all that out soon. We’ve got to notify social services, register her at my doctor’s, that sort of thing. And get you some proper leave sorted out.”
“Eh? What?” James distracted himself by picking up a Tesco carrier bag. Nappies. Good. Wipes. Nappy sacks. Sudocream. He grabbed another bag but Robbie stopped him.
“We have to talk things through.”
“Yes,” sighed James.
“She’s my granddaughter and my son has dumped her on me like an unwanted toy and it looks as if he and his girlfriend have been neglecting her. I’m struggling to get my head round this, James.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes?”
“You’re right. I don’t want her in care. She’s my flesh and blood.”
James nodded.
“But, look at her. Social workers are not going to let Mark have her back.”
“Under supervision, with a social worker, probably. You and I have both seen babies, children, families in worse situations.”
“Yeah. But not my son. I let him down when Val died. Maybe before. Maybe I was too busy with work, never there for him.”
“Don’t blame yourself Robbie, please. You couldn’t have done better than you did. Look at Lyn. She’d great.”
“I’m nearly 60. A bloke on my own. Do you think social services will let me have her, honestly?”
“You’re not on your own. You have me. I’m 32, that’s about average to become a parent these days, isn’t it?”
“But what do you know, James?”
“No more than any new parent, I suppose. Or step-granddad, I suppose, but that just messes with my mind.”
Robbie laughed wryly. “I’m going to trace Mark as soon as I reasonably get to work. The car is a hire car, registered to Mark Lewis of this address. I’ll get an all points bulletin out to uniform as soon as I get to my office. And I’ll do a no names inquiry to social service from the office about the situation. Then I’ll inform Innocent, off the record.”
“Why?”
“So she can research regulations and equality legislation. Because if you are really serious about this, pet. If you’re really, really serious about looking after my granddaughter for me, you need to have adoptive parental leave. I can’t cope with her, and that’s a fact.”
James stared long and hard at Robbie. “You mean I need maternity not paternity leave, don’t you? A whole year out?”
“If you’re serious. Are you? Because if you’re not, you better get out. She’d my granddaughter, and she’d not going into care.”
James blinked hard, fighting tears. “Don’t do this.”
“You seemed serious earlier. Were you?”
James looked from Robbie to Molly and back again. “I don’t know. I love you, and she’d part of you, she has your eyes. I hate the thought of her going into care. But I had thought the plan was to look after her until your son and his girlfriend can have her back.”
“That might be years, or never. I doubt you’ve ever considered the possibility of children, James, but if Mark seriously can’t cope than I want my granddaughter full time, properly. I want to adopt her.”
James glared angrily at Robbie, at his boyfriend. Sometimes he hated how thorough his boss could be. Mostly he respected and admired it, but on this occasion, he hated it, hated what he was being manipulated into.
“You’ve already had a no names consultation with the duty social worker, haven’t you?”
“Yes, and a named one. There’s a case conference at four o’clock this afternoon. That gives me just under ten hours to find Mark and this Nadia.”
“You presumed a lot,” James hissed, losing his temper but trying to keep his cool, not to wake Molly.
“I presume nothing James, I’m just hoping, okay?” Robbie snapped back, equally quietly. “I just don’t like doing things underhand. I’ve been a policeman all my life and I retire in three months. I’ve always done things by the book.”
James snorted and swallowed a laugh.
Robbie glared at him. “I have never, ever stepped over the line James, and you know that.”
James sighed. “Fine. Okay. But Robbie, at best you’re asking me to take a year out of my career, and at worse, quit it.”
“You should get a year’s paid leave, if I understand the 2008 Act correctly.”
“But a whole year? I’m supposed to being going on my Inspectors course in four months, after our honeymoon. That won’t happen when I return, sure I should return to DS level, but you know and I know that in practice...”
“James, you were going to leave when I retired a few months ago. I’m the one who persuaded you to stay, to aim for Inspector. Stop being contrary.”