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‘I’m sorry, Daddy.’

‘It’s OK,’ Alex would whisper, rocking him gently, kissing his hair, ‘it’s OK.’

I think, afterwards, that this explains it. That memory in my head as I push open the door to the children’s ward and round the corner into the room.

The way she’s holding him.

The dark hair.

His body curled into hers.

The tenderness.

I don’t know how long it is I stand there. Long enough for the nurse to join me, in silence, and watch.

‘It’s like a miracle,’ she says softly, after a long moment.

I turn to her. I know it’s not Jake. Of course it isn’t. I know that. But for a moment – just a moment –

‘He just went to her, straight away. With everyone else, he screams and fights like you wouldn’t believe. But with your wife – well, you can see for yourself.’

My eyes meet Alex’s and she smiles, her hand slowly stroking the boy’s long dark curls.

‘It’s OK,’ she whispers, ‘it’s OK.’

And I don’t know if it’s the boy she’s talking to. Or me.

***

The world of wyrd

(from the Anglo-Saxon ‘wyrd’ meaning fate or doom)

A Blog about the spooky, the paranormal and the unexplained

POSTED 03/05/17

Death and the raven – the Wittenham riddle deepens

Many of you will remember the strange case of the disappearance of Hannah Gardiner, back in 2015. If not you can read my original post here. It struck me at the time, because Hannah had broken the news of the discovery of sacrificial remains at Wittenham only a few months before. And then she disappears herself, and her little boy and his stuffed bird (note that) were discovered in the Money Pit, where legend has it that a huge raven guards a mysterious treasure (note that too – I’ll come back to it). For those of you who haven’t been there, Wittenham is an amazing place – criss-crossed by ley lines, and you can almost feel the presence of ancestral voices. So personally I’m not surprised at all that human sacrifice took place there, including women who had been tied up and thrown into the pit, and then had the backs of their skulls beaten in.

The reason to bring all this up again now is that my sources tell me there are some truly spooky similarities between those ancient corpses, and the position Hannah’s own body was found in. Word is that Hannah was tied up too, and died of a head wound to the back of the skull. Creepy, eh? There was even a dead black bird near the corpse. Coincidence? Don’t you believe it. The police aren’t confirming anything, but well, they wouldn’t would they?

So what is all this about ravens, I hear you say. Well, the fearsome Irish goddess Morrígan is closely associated with crows and ravens, especially in her role as prophet of doom and violent death (read my post on her here, and you can see her here in her other incarnation, as ‘the three Morrígna’ – the three terrifying sisters Badb (‘crow’), Macha and Nemain). Anyone who knows anything about Celtic religion will also know that ravens had a central role in ritual practice. Raven calls were thought to bring messages from the underworld, and they were often killed as propitiatory offerings to the gods, especially to ensure fertility. Ravens have also been found in Dark Age human burial pits – there were bird skeletons in those graves at Wittenham too. So who knows what old gods Hannah Gardiner disturbed when she was up there in the weeks before she died, and the sacrificial graves were desecrated. Who knows what she might have seen and why she needed to be silenced. Only her son can tell us and, to this day, his father has never allowed him to be interviewed.

I suspect we’ll hear more of this story in the next few days. Watch this space, guys . . .

@WorldofWyrdBlog

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***

‘It would only be for a few days.’

‘No. Absolutely not. It’s an insane idea, Alex – you know it is. I don’t know why you’re even considering it.’

But I do, of course I do. She looks at me, caught between fury and pleading.

‘Adam, he’s just a little boy. A terrified, lonely, overwhelmed little boy. He’s been through the most appalling experience which we don’t even know the worst of yet, and his own mother’s rejecting him. Is it any wonder he’s not coping – years in the dark and now’ – she gestures around, at the ward, the trolleys, the people – ‘all this. He just needs a couple of days of peace and quiet in a safe place. Away from all this sensory overload.’

‘That’s what Social Services are for – it’s not up to us, for God’s sake. For all you know, they’ve already got somewhere lined up.’

‘They haven’t. The nurses told me. They’re really struggling because there are too many children and not enough people willing to take them. And it’s only an emergency placement – just a few days –’

‘Even if that’s true they’re not going to hand him over to any Tom, Dick or Harry who happens to be passing – there are regulations – rules – you need to be approved. That sort of thing can take months –’

She raises a hand. ‘I spoke to Emma. She says it’s not exactly by the book, but she could make an exception for us. With you being a police officer and her knowing me for so long, she could log it as what they call a “private placement” – because it would just be for a couple of days. And I know your parents are coming over soon but he probably won’t even be there by then and even if he is they would understand – I know they would.’

She’s pleading now, and she knows I won’t be able to bear that. Any more than she can bear to do it.

‘What about work – I’d have to get it cleared for a start and I can’t see Harrison agreeing. And even if he did, I can’t take time off – not at the moment – you know I can’t –’

‘I can,’ she says quickly. ‘I haven’t got much on and I can work from home. Just like I used to before.’

When we had Jake.

The words boom silently in the air.

‘We have that lovely room,’ she says quietly, not looking at me. ‘Everything he could need.’

But that just makes it worse. The thought of another child in Jake’s bed. With Jake’s things.

I swallow hard.

‘I don’t want to. I’m sorry, but I just don’t want to. Please don’t push this.’

She puts her hand on my arm and forces me to turn and look at the child. He’s sitting under the table in the corner of the playroom, staring at me, his thumb in his mouth. Just like Jake did. It’s unbearable.

Alex comes closer. I can feel the heat from her body. ‘Please, Adam,’ she whispers. ‘If not for him, for me?’

***

Quinn opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, then rolls over and slides his hand down Erica Somer’s naked back. He always did think she had a great arse. She twists her head to look at him and he smiles. She looks fantastically dishevelled and he starts to feel horny all over again. It’s something about the contrast between how controlled she is in uniform and how uninhibited out of it. Not to mention the immense pleasure in getting her from the one state to the other . . .

‘I meant to ask,’ she says, propping herself up on one elbow. ‘Was it you or Gislingham who talked to that academic in Birmingham?’

Quinn runs a finger down her spine. Right now, frankly, the case can go fuck itself. He tries to roll her over but she pushes him away.