The Secret Mother(56)

‘Ben!’ I bat his arm gently with the back of my fist. ‘I can’t believe you just said that!’

‘Why not? Just putting your mind at rest.’

I’m sure I’m blushing right now. ‘Okay then, a coffee would be lovely.’

I pull my hood up and we race around to his garden and into the kitchen, laughing at the fact that we’re soaked through.

‘Wait here,’ he says, taking off his anorak and leaving me dripping rainwater all over his kitchen floor. He disappears into the hall while I get my breath back. Memories of Saturday night assail me. My pulse quickens. He kissed me in this kitchen. I try to think of other things to suppress these dangerous feelings.

‘Here.’ He returns and hands me a soft beige towel, using another to dry his hair.

‘Thanks.’ I wipe the rain from my face and then move on to my own dripping hair. I take off my coat and hang it over the back of one of the chairs.

Ben puts his towel down and starts doing something complicated to his coffee machine. It’s one of those big chrome contraptions that looks like you’d need a degree in engineering to work it. ‘How was your appointment this morning?’ he asks.

I lean back against the kitchen counter and twiddle a strand of wet hair around my finger. ‘It was…’ How do I even begin to explain how this morning was. ‘It was fine,’ I say.

He nods. ‘Good.’

Sod it. He told me he wants to be friends and I’m dying to talk to someone about this. ‘Actually, it wasn’t fine,’ I say. ‘It was… unsettling.’

‘Unsettling? How?’

And then I find myself telling him what happened. I tell him everything. It all comes tumbling out. About going to Cranborne and seeing Fisher. About the police warning me off. About discovering that Fisher practised at the clinic where I had my children.

‘The thing is,’ I say, ‘the records showed that it was Friedland who delivered my twins, but I know it was someone else. I can’t prove it was Fisher, but I know for a fact that it wasn’t Friedland – he was ill that night.’

Ben has stopped fiddling with the coffee machine. Instead he’s staring at me like I’m some kind of freak. I’ve blown it. He obviously thinks I’m unhinged. I can’t say I blame him.

‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I shouldn’t have vented. It’s all a bit heavy, I know.’

‘The question is,’ he says, ignoring my apology, ‘why do the records say it was Friedland when he wasn’t there that night?’

‘Because Fisher has something to hide?’

‘Looks that way,’ Ben says, scratching his chin.

‘So you believe me?’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

I give a short laugh. ‘Everyone else in my life thinks I’ve lost the plot. Sorry, that’s probably too much information.’

‘I don’t think you’ve lost the plot, Tessa. I think you’ve had an absolutely terrible few years and you haven’t been given anywhere near the support you deserve.’

My throat tightens and I pray I’m not going to cry. ‘Thank you,’ I whisper. ‘That means a lot.’

‘What about your husband?’ Ben asks.

‘Scott? What about him?’

‘I know you’re separated,’ he says, ‘but what does he think about all this stuff with Fisher? He must have some theories.’

‘I haven’t told him about going to the clinic. I don’t even know if I will tell him.’

‘You should,’ Ben says. ‘He needs to know about this. They were his children too.’

‘He doesn’t want to listen to me,’ I say, chewing my thumbnail. ‘He won’t even let me have their health records. Like I said, he thinks I’m insane for worrying about any of this. He’s moved on with his life – new girlfriend, new baby on the way – and he thinks I should move on too.’

‘Moving on is all very well,’ Ben says, ‘but it wasn’t his kitchen where that boy turned up. It wasn’t him being questioned by the police. You’ve been put under a lot of pressure, Tess. Cut yourself some slack. I really think you should make Scott listen to you about this Fisher thing. It doesn’t feel right to me.’

‘It doesn’t, does it? God, I’m glad you think so too. I thought I might be overreacting.’

‘Not at all,’ Ben says. ‘No wonder you’re stressed out. I’m just sorry you’re going through all this.’

‘Thanks, Ben. I really appreciate you listening and not thinking I’m a total lunatic.’

‘Maybe just a partial lunatic,’ he says.

I manage a half-smile. It feels good to have someone on my side who doesn’t have an agenda.

‘Now,’ he says, ‘go and tell Scott, make him listen.’



* * *



I pull out of the rain-splashed yard and wave as Jez closes the gates behind me. Ben is right: Scott should be told that the clinic’s records are wrong. This has nothing to do with me wanting Scott’s attention, and everything to do with us finding out if something bad is going on. If Fisher was negligent at Lily’s birth and he altered the records to change the time of birth and show a different doctor on duty that night, then Scott and I need to know. He should want to know. And we should do something about it. Report it.