Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(80)

‘It’s mine.’ Willis turned to see Kensa standing in the bedroom doorway. ‘You shouldn’t touch it. You shouldn’t be in here.’

‘I’m sorry, Kensa – I thought you’d be resting up at the farm. We needed to take another look in here. Are you feeling okay?’

‘I’ve come back to get my things.’

‘Whose is this?’ Willis asked, holding up the bloodied garment.

‘It’s my baby’s.’

Mawgan stepped into the van as well and stood beside her friend; she put her arm around her.

‘What happened to your baby?’ Willis asked, as Kensa held out her hand for the infant’s nightdress. ‘Shall we sit down and talk, Kensa?’

Kensa looked at Mawgan, who nodded. Mawgan led the way into the lounge. The sickly yellow hue of the one remaining bulb over the cooker lit up the cold lounge.

Kensa unfolded the bloodstained nightdress.

‘You’ve nothing to be afraid of, Kensa,’ Mawgan said, as she closed the caravan door and turned on the gas fire. ‘I have to go back to the farm now. You text me when you’re ready to leave and I’ll walk down and meet you.’

Willis nodded to Mawgan that she, at least, had understood, and Mawgan left.

‘This was my baby’s. Yes, this is my baby Caden’s. He was born in my old caravan and Raymonds took him from me – told me he was a stillborn but I could swear I heard him crying outside. Raymonds said it was just wishful thinking and the sound of the wind as it whistles round the old mine. He never took one breath.’

‘Why didn’t you go to hospital?’ asked Willis.

‘I don’t know. My da left me to it by that time. He scarpered along with the gypsy folk he used to know – gone back to where he came from. They wouldn’t take me; they were ashamed for me to be pregnant with a gadjo. But I didn’t belong with them anyway. My mum was from here. She was a local girl. She’d set her heart on a traveller and he’d done his best to stay put but after she died, his heart told him to go.’

‘So you were on your own in here?’

‘They, the authorities, the schools, didn’t know it,’ Kensa said, ‘but yes, I was.’

‘Raymonds knew it?’

‘Yes, him and Eileen looked after me, brought me food and gave me money if I needed it.’

‘What did Raymonds say about the pregnancy?’

‘He said no one was to know; I was to stay in my van. I lived further out then. It was in the woods near the old mine. Raymonds or Cam brought me what I needed.’

‘Cam Simmons?’

‘Yes, he was a friend then. Still is. He’s more than a friend. We’ve been in love since we were kids but I never realized it till he came back. We’ve shared so many times together. There’s a bond between us that no one can break.’

Willis took out the photo album and opened it up.

‘I believe it. These look like happy times, Kensa? Is that boy Cam?’

‘Yes. We were just friends then, but great ones. We understood each other.’

She smiled as she wiped her eyes, then took the book from Willis, touching the photos through their plastic sleeves. She sang: ‘I’m spinning around, get out of my way – you wanna move it – move it like this . . . la la la.’

Kensa hummed to herself as she turned the pages and laughed out loud as she looked at the photos.

‘Mawgan was a good friend to you?’

‘Yes. But there was no one there when I went into labour early. Mawgan was at school. Cam said he’d come after, as soon as he could. I waited all day until Raymonds came later in the evening. He told Cam to wait outside. He kept banging on the door. I could hear Cam saying, “Sergeant, shall I go for help?” He told him no.

‘Raymonds looked at me and I remember thinking – he’s not afraid. This is going to be okay. He said, “Lift your legs and rest them on my shoulders and you push when you feel the need.” I pushed because I had no choice. My body just pushed even though I felt it would split me in two. Raymonds didn’t say anything. Sometimes I asked him what was happening. And he would just say, “Not much longer. Keep pushing.”

‘I only knew that the baby was born because the pain stopped on the last massive contraction. “One more push to get the rest out,” he said. I remember asking, “Is it born?” Raymonds said yes; but there was no cry. “Is it a girl?” I asked. “No, it’s a boy,” Raymonds replied.

‘“Then, his name is Caden,” I said, and I gave him the outfit to put on. He didn’t say any more to me; I felt the cold wind as the door opened.’

‘Kensa, where is Samuel, do you know?’

She shook her head. ‘Not any more.’

‘What do you know about him?’

‘I know that he sneezes a lot. He cries a lot. He shakes his head when you give him a drink, but he’s just a dream. Isn’t he?’

Willis walked across the field away from Kensa’s van and out of earshot, then called Carter and told him what she’d found.

‘I think she knows enough for us to take her in. We can’t ignore her.’

‘Do you think we’ll get any sense out of her?’ asked Carter.

‘No, probably not. But we have to reach her somehow.’