Mandy, weeping, looked to the water again.
‘Imagine if someone could bring John back?’ Janine said. ‘They can’t, no-one can. But you can do that for Sammy’s mum and dad. You can bring Sammy back for them. You know what it must be like for them, how sad they are. Please. Come with me now, Mandy. Come on. Please, Mandy. This is all a mess, but part of it we can put right. Part of it, you can make better.’
Mandy wept, snot on her face and tears damp on her cheeks. Around them the gulls called, their cries harsh and mocking.
‘Please, Mandy.’ Janine stepped closer, ‘let me take Sammy.’ Her mouth was dry, her heart in her throat. What if she misjudged it, lost all of them. ‘I know you didn’t want to hurt anyone. You were hurting. All you wanted was your little boy back, for things to be the same.’
Janine reached Mandy. Sammy was still crying quietly. ‘That’s it,’ Janine said, soothing her as much as possible, ‘that’s it, I’ll take Sammy, come on, that’s it.’ Janine put her hands round Sammy’s waist. ‘I’ve got him, come on Mandy, that’s it. Come on Sammy, there we go. I’ve got you, Sammy.’ Mandy relinquished her grip on Sammy and Janine lifted him into her own arms. ‘That’s it. Good. It’s all right.’
Mandy moved Aidan to the centre of her chest, wrapping both her arms around him, kissing his head, her tears falling on his fine blonde hair.
Janine turned to where the social workers waited near the steps and nodded. One of them came up onto the deck and approached them.
‘Sammy?’ she said.
Janine nodded.
‘Hello, Sammy,’ the woman said, ‘off we go then, that’s it.’ She took the child from Janine and walked back. Janine waited until the clang of her shoes on the metal steps had faded then put her arm around Mandy’s shoulders. ‘Let’s go down now. You give me your bag.’
Wordlessly, Mandy eased the bulky hold-all off her shoulder and Janine took it. Gently she steered Mandy, one arm on her back along to the steps and slowly guided her down, the other officials melting out of the way.
Mandy froze when she saw the small crowd of people waiting on the dockside at the end of the passenger walkway.
‘It’s all right, Mandy,’ Janine said. The words were meaningless, something to keep the woman walking, keep the child safe. ‘Come on.’
A woman with a name-tag on stepped forward and met them as they stepped off the ship.
‘Mandy,’ she said, ‘I’m Glenys, I’m Aidan’s social worker.’
Mandy began to cry fresh tears.
‘I know this is really hard but I will make sure that Aidan is well looked after.’
‘Can I see him?’ Mandy cried.
‘Yes, of course,’ Glenys said, ‘I’ll arrange visiting as soon as we have things straightened out. You’re still his mum, remember that, nothing can ever change that.’
The compassion brought a lump in Janine’s throat.
‘He’ll want a bottle in an hour or so,’ Mandy said through sobs like hiccups. ‘There’s a change of clothes in his bag. And his teddy. He likes rusks and apricot.’
Janine handed the bag to Glenys.
Glenys smiled at Mandy. ‘Thank you.’
Mandy held her cheek against Aidan’s head. ‘Oh, baby,’ she said, ‘Oh, baby, I love you. Mummy loves you.’
Weeping helplessly she handed her son to Glenys.
‘Mandy,’ Janine said, ‘I have to arrest you now.’
Mandy nodded, her chin quivering, wiping away her tears and snot with her hands, the wind still slapping at her hair. Janine began the caution, dimly aware of the passengers up on deck staring down at the unfolding drama.
Chapter 28
Janine accompanied Maria, the social worker, from the hospital where Sammy had been taken, back to the Wrays. She had informed the family liaison officer that Sammy would be coming home soon and asked her to prepare them, though how anyone prepared themselves for such a momentous change of fortune, was hard to imagine.
A press embargo was in place until Sammy was safely back with his parents, so the road outside the Wrays was deserted as they arrived. The rain had stopped at last. Millie wanted to organise a photo shoot for later that day, a batch of photographs to be taken by one of the official police photographers and made available to the media; something less intrusive than a scrum of press. Good news of this sort was rare in their work, on most occasions the best they could hope for was catching criminals, seeing them convicted for their crime but to have a child found safe and well after twelve days and reunited with their family was a happy outcome indeed. And excellent PR for the force, which would help counterbalance the wave of earlier hostile coverage.
Millie would also advise the Wrays on media interest. A bidding war for an exclusive was undoubtedly on the cards. It was the ultimate human interest story. They’d be handsomely paid if they agreed and very few families resisted that even if at first the idea seemed distasteful. What the money wouldn’t do, couldn’t do was fix the damage inflicted by the trauma of the abduction. In a lot of marriages and partnerships, relationships never survived that sort of pressure. Even when they did, the individuals were battered, bruised and scarred by the event, prone to emotional and mental illness, depression, PTSD, anxiety. She didn’t know if the Wrays’ marriage would survive. They obviously had their problems and Clive’s behaviour at the outset had not shown him in a good light. But perhaps this ‘happy ending’ would give them a chance.
Janine undid Sammy’s straps and helped him out of the child seat, lifting him out of the car.
Claire flew out of the door and ran down the path followed by Clive.
‘Mummy!’ Sammy, in Janine’s arms, shouted, launching himself forwards. Claire took him from Janine, holding him tight. Clive ruffled Sammy’s hair, kissed his cheek and led his wife and son to the house. Maria and Janine went in with them.
Sammy sat on Claire’s knee and held on to his father’s hand. Sue brought drinks and biscuits.
‘He’s been well looked after,’ Maria told them. ‘He’s been checked out by a paediatrician and there are no worries at all.’
Claire nodded, her face mobile with emotion. Janine could see she was making a big effort not to break down in front of Sammy.
‘I’ll be here to support you over the next few weeks,’ Maria said. ‘You may find there are some different behaviours from Sammy as a result of what’s happened. Trouble with sleep or regression we can deal with as needs be.’
‘What sort of thing?’ Claire said.
‘It’s common to have an apparent loss of skills, whether that is toilet training or language, dressing and so on. You may find he’s clingy, watchful. You can help him by tolerating it. He needs to be with his primary carer as much as possible.’
Claire nodded.
‘Try and reduce the number of times you separate for the time being,’ Maria said. ‘As for anxiety, avoid potential triggers, don’t go to the same park for example.’
Claire shuddered.
‘Routine is good,’ the social worker went on, ‘maintain any routine you had before. Sammy may become very angry for no apparent reason. If that happens it’s important you keep calm; that will comfort him.’
‘The woman,’ Clive said, ‘the one who took him.’
‘She’s in police custody,’ Janine said, ‘along with her husband.’
Clive shook his head. ‘To do that-’ he said.
Janine changed the subject. ‘If the case comes to court, which is almost certain, then you may be called as witnesses.’