Silent Victim(41)

‘Jamie,’ I cried, falling to my knees, searching the puddles for a reddish tint of blood. Raindrops splattered his face and he blinked, his little hands clawing the air like a tortoise that had been flipped on to its back. The tall thin figure of the driver loomed over us, her hands on her mouth. Her long blonde hair trailed down the sides of her face as the rain dripped down its length. ‘He ran straight in front of me. I didn’t see him . . . I . . .’

But I was too busy dialling 999 as I tried to shelter my son from the rain. It was an automatic reaction and I struggled to find the words to call for help.

‘Mummy,’ Jamie cried, apparently none the worse for wear.

‘It’s OK, sweetie, you’re going to be OK,’ I said, my heart feeling like it was going to beat its way out of my chest. My left hand holding the phone, I patted down my son with my right, unable to believe he had escaped with his life.

‘He ran out in front of me,’ the woman repeated, her voice trembling above me. ‘I didn’t hit him. I braked the second I saw him. He . . . he tripped over his own feet.’

‘What’s your emergency?’ A voice said on the other end of the line. I blurted out my location, requesting an ambulance as I told the operator my son had been knocked down. Jamie was crying, and warm tears fell down my cheeks as I realised what I had almost lost. I touched his face, checked the grazes on his hands from where he had fallen. Reaching out for his teddy, I drew them both near as I sat in the icy cold puddle, rain driving down my face. I craned my neck to stare at the driver, her face white and frozen in shock.

‘He . . . he came from nowhere . . . I didn’t hit him . . . I swear.’ Her words were disjointed, raised against the fury of the rain. Mascara streaks began to tear down her cheeks, her fingers touching her lips as if caressing the words for comfort. I glanced back at my car – to the back door that was wide open. I had locked it when I left. I was sure of it. So how did he get out? A memory reignited in my brain, old and rusted. Harry the golden retriever, lying bloodied and lifeless on a day just like this. I heaved for breath, feeling my grip on reality loosen a notch.

Sitting in the back of the ambulance, I took comfort from the fact that no injuries were found. I had not expected the presence of a police officer as paramedics checked Jamie over. After catching his breath, Jamie was able to tell them that he had tripped over and fallen, but had not been hit by the car. He seemed excited by the prospect of being in an ambulance, and his eyes grew wide as a uniformed officer joined us, introducing herself to him with a smile. PC Bakewell seemed far less enamoured with me, however. After obtaining my details, she informed me that an automatic referral would be made to children’s social services.

‘Why?’ I said, suddenly feeling small under her disapproving gaze. An efficient-looking woman with short brown hair, she turned over the page of her notebook and wrote down my details.

‘I only took my eyes off him for a second,’ I said, panic lacing my words. ‘The child lock was on in the car. Somebody must have opened the door from the outside.’ The thought hadn’t entered my head until that second when I blurted it out. My eyes opened wide with the revelation. ‘Yes, that’s it. Someone opened the door of my car and let him out. He was running across the car park to see me.’ I hesitated as I tried to work it out. Had I activated the central locking? If I had, then how could somebody have opened the car door?

PC Bakewell raised an eyebrow in a manner that suggested she was thinking the same thing. ‘Did you see anybody else around?’

I frowned. ‘No. Have you asked the woman driving the 4 × 4? She might have seen something.’

But the police officer stared unblinkingly, seeming unimpressed. ‘It’s a public car park. There’s bound to be people hanging around. Besides, why would someone do that? Just how long had you left your child alone?’

I pursed my lips, feeling them strain over my teeth as I sucked hard. I thought about Luke and what would happen if I told the police the truth. It was him. It had to be. He was watching me, waiting for me to fall. I shook my head. ‘I don’t know – seconds,’ I said wearily, watching as my child was given the all-clear. I wanted to draw him close. To smother him in kisses and never let him go. I could blame Luke all I wanted. This was my fault. Right now, I was the biggest threat to my child.

PC Bakewell smiled at Jamie, lowering her voice as she gave me words of advice. ‘Visibility is very bad with all this rain. Your son could have been killed.’ The tone of her voice told me she placed the blame solely on my shoulders. ‘I’ve seen too many incidents like this with horrific outcomes. Don’t take your eyes off your child again.’ She looked at me with eyes that spoke of the memories of incidents she preferred to forget. ‘Anyway’ – she offered up a brief smile – ‘I’m glad that luck was on your side. Don’t let it happen again.’ After a quick word with the paramedic, she bid me goodbye. Jamie was going to be OK, but I would not be going into work today. After I had promised to make it up to him with ice cream, we headed home. I needed to tell Alex what had happened before he heard it from anybody else. I looked at the keys in my shaking hand and I wondered if I could trust myself to drive. After tucking Jamie into his car seat, I slid behind the steering wheel. I caught my reflection in the mirror, barely recognising the person staring back at me. My eyes were bloodshot, my face chalk white with shock. This would not be the end of it. Social services would now have a record of my carelessness and I would have to explain myself all over again. How had I allowed my child to toddle across the car park in the pouring rain, resulting in him almost being run over? What sort of mother did that make me? What sort of person? After all we had been through to have our beautiful child . . . I pushed my key into the ignition. I had to force these feelings away and concentrate on calling home to break the news. Alex could barely look me in the eye as it was. Had it been an accident, or had my past reared up to greet me once again?