The Secret Mother(47)

Maybe Scott moved it. He wouldn’t have taken it with him, would he? It’s not the sort of thing that would be on his radar. Paperwork has never been his forte. I pull up his number on my phone and call him. After six rings, it goes to voicemail. I call again. Voicemail again. I check the time: it’s 11.40. Late, but not hideously late. Okay, maybe it is. But damn it, this is important. I call again.

‘This had better be good, Tessa.’ His voice is croaky, like I just woke him up.

‘Sorry, Scott. I know it’s late.’

No reply, just the weight of his annoyance across the airwaves.

‘Do you know where Sam’s red book is?’ I ask.

‘His what?’

‘You know the one. The red book, his health record.’

‘I don’t know. Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow morning?’

‘It should be in the filing cabinet with all his other stuff,’ I say.

There’s silence on the other end of the line.

‘Scott? You still there?’

‘Look, Tessa, don’t get mad, but I took Sam and Lily’s files.’

‘You did what?’ I shift around onto my knees and sit on my heels. ‘Why did you take them? They’re just as much mine as they are yours.’

‘I know that, but I was worried about you. After we lost Sam, you became obsessed with their pictures and records. You used to spend hours going through everything, looking at their charts, talking to yourself.’

‘I wasn’t that bad. And anyway, it comforted me to read about them.’

‘Don’t you remember?’ he says. ‘Your therapist had to help wean you off looking at them.’

I push away the memory. It was a dark time, I don’t want to remember it.

‘Once you were able to put them away,’ he continues, ‘I thought it’d be best to hide them just in case you went back to them. It’s not healthy to dwell on all that stuff. You don’t need those files, Tessa. Forget them.’

‘Where are they now? Did you put them in the attic? In the wardrobe?’

‘No, I brought them with me when I moved out.’

‘You took them!’ The thought of my children’s records not being here in the house throws my pulse into overdrive. I may not spend time poring through them any longer, but I always assumed they were here with me in case I ever needed to look at them. Like an ex-smoker who keeps one cigarette in a drawer for emergencies.

I take a breath to calm down. Yelling at Scott isn’t going to help my cause. I’ve worked myself up into such a state, I’ve almost forgotten why I wanted the files in the first place. ‘I’m coming round to get them.’

‘It’s too late to come over, it’s almost midnight. And anyway, you’re not having them. You don’t need them.’

‘I do need them.’

‘I’m hanging up now, going back to bed. You should go to bed too.’

‘Don’t hang up, Scott. Just listen. If you won’t give them to me, then do me a favour. Go and have a look in Sam’s red book and see if it says the name of the doctor who delivered him.’

‘What? What’s all this about? Why do you need to know that? Have you been drinking, Tessa? You sound a bit manic.’

‘Just find the name of the doctor for me. Please.’

‘Tessa, you need to drop this. I’m going to end the call now, and I think you should make an appointment to go back and see your therapist.’

‘Scott! Don’t you dare hang up on me!’

‘Tell you what, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll give you the files back after you’ve been to see a therapist.’

‘No, I don’t need to see anyone.’ I debate whether to tell him about my discovery – that Dr Fisher used to practise in the clinic where the twins were born – but it’s all just coincidence at the moment. Scott would probably think I was delusional, seeing conspiracy theories where there aren’t any, giving him more fuel to add to his argument about me seeing a therapist. Plus, I don’t trust him not to tell the police – or Ellie. And if they thought I was digging into Fisher’s past, they’d call me back into the station. I need more concrete evidence before I tell anyone.

‘That’s my deal,’ he says wearily. ‘Take it or leave it. Believe it or not, I still care about you, Tessa. I want you to be happy.’

‘Fine,’ I snap. ‘I’ll see a therapist. And then you have to give me back the files.’

‘Okay.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’

I stab the phone screen and end the call. Looks like I have little choice but to do what he asks. But can I trust him to do as he’s promised? Since Scott got together with Ellie, it’s like he’s a completely different person. It’s like she’s twisted him into someone else.





Chapter Twenty-Three





My alarm wakes me on Saturday morning and last night’s discovery hits me once more. What could it mean? There are so many thoughts swirling through my mind. But I can’t let my imagination run away until I know for sure whether or not Fisher actually was my doctor the night my babies were born. Bloody Scott, taking the twins’ files and trying to make me see a therapist. How dare he hold me to ransom like that!