The Secret Mother(9)

‘Tessa Markham,’ Chibuzo begins, ‘you are not under arrest, but you are being interviewed under suspicion of child abduction.’

‘What!’ I cry. ‘Child abduction? You said you wanted to ask me a few questions, go over what happened yesterday. No one said anything about child abduction!’ Am I dreaming? Is this some awful, awful nightmare? My mind has gone spongy and soft. They’re both talking, but I can’t seem to latch onto their words.

‘Ms Markham? Tessa? Are you okay?’ Marshall asks.

I take a couple of deep breaths. ‘Are you going to arrest me?’

‘No,’ Chibuzo replies. ‘Like I said, at this stage we’re just interviewing you.’

‘But you said “child abduction”. You think I took Harry?’

‘We’re trying to find out what happened,’ she says. ‘Are you okay to answer a few questions for us? You have the right to legal advice if you want it.’

‘Just a few questions?’ I ask.

‘Yes,’ Chibuzo replies.

I think about my option to take legal advice. If I say yes, I’ll have to wait while they sort out a solicitor. But that will take ages, and I really need to get back to work. If I’m here too long, I’ll have to explain to Ben why I’m late back. I’ve done nothing wrong, so I decide I don’t need legal advice. I’ll be fine.

‘I’ll answer your questions,’ I reply. ‘I don’t want a solicitor.’

‘You’re sure?’ Chibuzo asks.

‘Yes.’

They go over the same questions they asked yesterday. Asking me what happened when I got home, and what Harry and I talked about. I recount the whole episode again, reliving yesterday evening. I hope they’ll be finished soon. The clock is ticking; it’s almost quarter to two already.

‘Back in…’ Chibuzo looks down at her notepad. ‘Back in 2015, on Saturday 24th October, you were found walking through Friary Park, pushing a pram containing three-month-old infant Toby Draper. His mother, Sandra Draper, had reported him missing twenty minutes earlier.’

Her statement is like a punch to the gut. Chibuzo looks up. She and her colleague are both now staring directly at me, and I feel my cheeks flaming.

‘Yes,’ I reply, my voice a croak. ‘Yes, but like I told the police at the time, it was a genuine misunderstanding.’

‘Would you like to tell us again what happened?’ Chibuzo says.

No, I bloody would not like to tell you again what happened. The last thing I want to do right now is rake over all that painful ancient history.

‘What do you remember about the incident?’ Chibuzo asks.

I take a deep breath. ‘I was walking through the park and I noticed a pram at the edge of the woods. I left the path and went over to take a look. I saw a baby asleep in the pram. I looked around and couldn’t see anyone else, so I thought I’d better take the pram with the baby in to the police station, which is where I was heading when the police car pulled up next to me.’

I stop talking, and there’s a long pause before anyone speaks.

‘Did you have a mobile phone with you at the time?’ DC Marshall asks like I knew he would, because this is exactly what the investigating officers asked me last time.

‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘I did have my phone, but I thought it would be quicker to take the baby to the station myself.’

‘And did you not think it would have been better to call us anyway, in case someone was worried and looking for the baby?’

‘In hindsight, yes, of course that would have been better. But I wasn’t really thinking straight.’

‘Could you elaborate?’ Chibuzo asks. ‘Why were you not thinking straight?’

I know exactly what they’re getting at. ‘In August of that year…’ My voice cracks, and so I clear my throat and start again. ‘In August of that year, my son… my three-year-old son died from acute lymphoblastic leukaemia. I was grieving at the time. I still am,’ I add.

‘I’m very sorry for your loss,’ Chibuzo says, with a look of sympathy.

But her sympathy hasn’t stopped her from bringing it all up again. From making me wade through the pain while they watch and listen. ‘It wasn’t my first loss,’ I say. ‘Sam’s twin sister Lily died at birth. So now both my babies are gone.’

She nods. Marshall looks down at his shoes.

‘But you already know all this,’ I say, staring into her clear brown eyes. ‘You must have it on your file.’

She glances at the papers on the table. ‘It says here you were suffering from depression. Is that correct?’

‘Yes,’ I reply through gritted teeth. You’d be suffering from depression too, if your second child had just died.

‘I know this is hard,’ she persists, ‘but Mrs Draper claimed that she turned her back for a second to deal with her toddler, who had run off into the trees. She said that when she turned back around, the pram was gone and she could see you walking quickly down the path with it. She said she yelled after you, but you didn’t react. She said there was no way you couldn’t have heard her unless you were deaf. She couldn’t give chase, because her toddler was refusing to come to her. That’s when she rang the police. Did you hear Mrs Draper calling you?’