What Lies Between Us(90)

I sit on the sofa in the basement, she and Elsie sit on two old garden chairs and we talk. Jane wants to learn as much about Nina and me as I do about her family, which reassures me that she is doing this for the right reasons. She asks if she can meet Nina, but I tell her it’s out of the question. ‘As far as my daughter is concerned, she wants nothing to do with the baby. Otherwise I’d have helped her to raise him,’ I lie. I can’t look at Elsie when I say this.

‘What about Dylan’s father?’ asks Jane. ‘Shouldn’t he have a say?’

‘Nina is no longer with him and he has not been in contact with her since the night she fell pregnant. He doesn’t know about the baby and Nina is adamant that he never will. She wants what’s best for the boy and for herself. And she is convinced that a new life is the solution that suits them all.’

‘What about you? How will you cope with this? I’m a mother too, and I can’t imagine how I’d feel in your situation. I see from the way you are with him that you love him dearly.’

I’m touched by her consideration. ‘It won’t be easy, but it’s for the best.’

‘And what about contact? Will you be expecting us to stay in touch or do you want to visit him? Would you like me to send you photographs?’

I think about it. ‘No, I don’t think so. It would hurt too much. Dylan needs a fresh start with no reminders of his past. In a few weeks when the dust settles, you should begin the adoption process formally, but I don’t want my daughter’s name brought into it. Name me as Dylan’s biological mother and I’ll sign any paperwork you want me to, and speak to any social workers so it’ll go smoothly.’

Jane appears reluctant at the thought of having to lie; I must convince her this is the best way. ‘If you really want to be a mother again and the council won’t let you because they say you’re too old, then this will be your only opportunity. How much do you want another baby?’

She wrings her hands and finally nods. ‘Do you mind if Elsie and I have a conversation?’ she asks, and the two disappear upstairs into the kitchen while I make the most of my remaining time with my grandson.

When they return, I reluctantly hand Dylan to Jane and she’s instantly smitten. ‘If it was up to me, I’d take him right away,’ Jane says. ‘But I need to talk to my husband and my children first before we make a decision as a family. Can you give me a few hours?’

‘Yes,’ I say.

Jane is as good as her word. Just after 11 p.m. and when I’ve finished feeding Dylan, she and her husband appear and we talk until the early hours. By the time they have finished, they give each other a look as if to say they agree that they are making the right decision. And I know I am too. My grandson and I are to be parted.

‘When would you like us to take him?’ Jane asks.

‘Tonight. Now,’ I say. ‘Elsie, would you mind gathering his things?’

I ask for a few minutes alone with Dylan, and then it’s just him and me in the basement that has become his home. I hug him and kiss him and tell him how much I love him, then dab at my tears as they fall on to his mop of dark hair. Finally, I call Elsie to take him away from me as I cannot bear to watch him leave in another woman’s arms. I am grateful he will never see this room again. Moments later, I hear the front door close, a car engine start and pull away up the street as Dylan’s new family leave with their son.

Elsie puts an arm around my shoulders but I tell her that it’s all right, I’ll be okay. I thank her for everything and apologise for bringing such chaos into her life. And then I return to Nina, still asleep in her bed, completely unaware of what I have taken from her. I pull her duvet back and climb in, curling up behind her, holding on to her and vowing never to let go of her again. For the rest of my life, her safety and mental well-being will be my only priorities.





CHAPTER 75





MAGGIE


I remain in darkness as the hours pass. My ear is pressed to the tiny section of the partition wall I’ve chipped away at. I don’t want to move from here until I know what has happened to my grandson’s body.

My neck has stiffened, my head throbs and there’s a constant tearing pain in my left leg where I have damaged a ligament. But this all pales into insignificance compared to the pain that Dylan went through in his final moments. My poor, sweet Dylan.

I have screamed until I am hoarse, begged Nina to find him help, and made my fingertips bleed as I scratched away at the walls like a caged rat. But I’ve heard nothing all night that indicates she is out of her psychosis or has heard my pleas. This is what they call karma, I think, for what I allowed to happen to Sally Ann Mitchell. Perhaps if I had helped her, the gods would have helped Dylan.

I have been crying constantly for what has happened to my grandson. My worst fears all those years ago have been realised. The sacrifice I made to keep them apart has been for nothing because Dylan is now dead. The beautiful baby I cried over as I gave him away is lying at the foot of our staircase because of his mother, my daughter. And for the first time in her life, I despise her for it. I wish she were dead.

I don’t know what time it is when I eventually take myself back up the stairs, defeated. I crawl up them one by one and I eventually reach the bathroom. There, I rise up until my injured leg threatens to fell me. I scoop cold water into my hands and pat it on my face, leaving it wet as I limp into the bedroom and pray that the lumps in my breast and under my arm are malignant. I want this to be cancer and I want it to kill me. I don’t want to spend a moment longer locked away in this hell. I want to die as soon as possible and let my stained soul fly free.