Before I even reach the door to the flat, I can hear loud music playing and I instantly recognise it as Toy Story’s ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’. Inside, Alex and Ben are seated at the computer, eating crisps and watching a video clip. The combination of the music and the words to the song, the anxiety I’ve been left with following my conversation with Gareth and the sight of them both, the two boys that I love, sitting there side by side, is overwhelming. Alex’s head is bobbing around in time with the music, even though it keeps stopping and starting up again. Ben has the mouse and is making Woody fly down the banister repeatedly, sliding the cursor back and clicking at precisely the same point in the video each time, the same few bars of music playing over and over again. Alex freezes like a statue every time the music stops and then starts to jig around as it starts up again. He’s singing in a lovely deep baritone voice and I realise in an instant that this is what I’d wanted and desperately waited for from Andy, but never got: total, unconditional, absolute acceptance of Ben.
‘Oh, hello, Mummy.’ Alex turns his head and beams at me. ‘Look, Ben, it’s... Sarah, what on earth’s wrong?’ He lowers the volume on the speakers, jumps up and puts his hands on my arms. Ben flashes me a smile and turns back to the video.
‘Nothing.’ I wipe my eyes. ‘Ignore me. It’s just... you looked so sweet together. And that song...’
‘I know. It’s a bit cheesy, isn’t it?’ Alex grins. ‘But he loves it. He’s been playing it repeatedly for close to an hour.’
‘Oh God, poor neighbours,’ I say, smiling. ‘And poor you. You must be about ready to shoot yourself.’
‘Not at all.’ Alex grins. ‘I love that movie. And that particular bit... well, it’s my favourite bit, as it happens.’ He raises his eyebrows and laughs.
I reach up and touch his cheek. ‘Thank you,’ I say. I turn towards Ben as the music stops, ready to go and select another video for him. Alex grabs my arm and pulls me back.
‘Watch,’ he says. ‘Just watch.’
So I watch, with growing astonishment, as Ben, having finally finished with Toy Story, deftly clicks on the ‘Exit Full Screen’ cross at the bottom and scrolls his way through a list of suggestions on the right-hand side. He deliberates the pros and cons of the Teletubbies Tubby Toast Accident and Frozen’s ‘Let It Go’ before finally settling for a song that I recognise from The Lion King. ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’ opens in full screen and a hippo begins to sing.
‘Oh my God!’ I exclaim. ‘That’s... incredible.’
Because it is. Here’s my son, the one with no speech and very little understanding, who doesn’t even know what ‘Sit down’, ‘Come here’, or ‘Wait a minute’ means, who barely responds to his own name. And yet he can somehow use a computer mouse to click and navigate and find his way round a music website. He recognises the images and can meaningfully select and play the videos that he wants. I don’t have to do a thing to help him. I know in an instant that the world has opened up, not just for Ben but for me too. For the first time ever, I can see a future in which I might get to eat a meal or read a book, while Ben occupies himself happily on his own.
‘Oh my God, Alex,’ I breathe. ‘You’ve taught him to... to surf the Internet! Look! He’s happy! He’s doing it all by himself!’
Alex says, ‘There’s more to that lad than meets the eye.’
I nod, fighting back tears for the second time.
Alex frowns. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks. ‘There’s something. I can tell.’
I wipe my eyes and sigh. ‘I’m in trouble at work,’ I say.
‘What kind of trouble?’
I bite my lower lip. ‘This case I’m working on. Something I did.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
I take off my shoes and hang my jacket on the back of a chair. I walk over to the sofa and Alex comes and sits down beside me. ‘I was supposed to go back to the office this afternoon,’ I tell him. ‘Gareth – my boss – wanted a meeting. I called and told him about Ben, that I had to get home, so we’re meeting tomorrow morning. But he told me there’s been a complaint. A real one, this time.’
‘From who?’
I lean back into the sofa cushions. ‘I went to the hospital. I had a bit of a run-in with a senior administrator there. I thought everything was OK, but now I suspect she’s taken it to her director and they’ve decided to report me to the Solicitors’ Regulation Authority.’
Alex frowns. ‘Why? What happened?’
I look up at him. ‘I sneaked onto a children’s ward after they’d told me I couldn’t go there. I lied to members of staff. I told them I was visiting somebody, when I wasn’t.’
‘But why?’
I look up at him and sigh. ‘I wanted to try and find some witnesses. Nurses. Staff members who might have been on the ward in July, the evening that the baby nearly died.’
‘And did you?’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘But that’s not the point. I shouldn’t have been there, and I lied my way in. They might say that it’s conduct unbefitting a solicitor. I could... I could get struck off.’
Alex takes my hand. ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that. You’ll probably just get a telling-off.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘You must have had good reason,’ Alex adds.
I shrug. ‘Well, I think I did. The administrator wouldn’t let me onto the ward. She wouldn’t tell me anything, she wouldn’t give me names.’ I look up at him. ‘I was trying to find witnesses to an attempted murder. It makes me so angry. If I were a police officer, I wouldn’t have needed to lie.’
Alex nods. ‘Well, then you need to tell them that. You were trying to do your job. Surely your boss will support you?’
I shake my head. ‘On the contrary. He thinks I’ve overstepped the mark. He thinks I’ve got too involved. He wants to take me off the case.’
Alex’s eyes widen. ‘Can he do that?’
I shrug. ‘Well, of course he can. He’s my boss. He can do what he wants.’
‘But who will take over?’
I roll my eyes. ‘Golden boy. Matt. Matt, who never puts a foot wrong.’
‘But what about your client? Won’t she mind?’
I stop and think about that for a moment. ‘Maybe. I hope so.’ I smile.
Alex smiles back. ‘I know I would,’ he says. ‘If I was in trouble, I’d definitely want you.’
*
As soon as dinner is over and Ben is in bed, Alex takes my hand.
‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let me take your mind off things. We’ll play a game. You be Tallulah Louisiana and I’ll be Peter Rabbit.’
I laugh as he pulls me up and steers me towards the bedroom. We both undress and then I feel the soft warmth of the bed against my back as he pushes me gently down, the weight of his body on mine. He gazes intently at me for a moment, his fingers trailing over my eyes, my hair, my cheek. ‘I don’t want to lose you,’ he whispers suddenly, urgently, shaking his head.
I reach up and cup his face in my hands. ‘Alex! Why on earth would you say that? That’s not going to happen.’
He gazes silently back into my eyes for a moment. A second later, his mouth, his hands, his hips are on mine and I’ve lost all sense of time.
Afterwards, as we lie in the darkness, I turn to face him. ‘I want to know more about you,’ I say.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Well, about your family. Your parents. You never talk about them.’
Alex hesitates a moment before saying, ‘My parents are dead.’
‘Alex! I’m so sorry. How come you never told me?’
‘Didn’t I?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. Well. It’s not really something that you just come out and say.’
I know what he means. I feel that way about my mother. You don’t want to embarrass people, because they won’t know what to say next.
‘So, how did they die?’
‘Car crash.’ Alex squeezes my hand, to let me know that it’s OK.
‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’
‘No.’
‘So you have no one? You were an only child?
‘I was a twin,’ he says, after a moment. ‘My brother died when we were kids.’
‘Oh, Alex. Oh God. How awful. I’m so sorry. How did he die?’
‘He drowned. He fell into a lake. I was there. I wasn’t able to save him.’
I squeeze his hand back. ‘How old was he... were you? When he died?’
‘Five.’
I glance at him in the darkness, examining the outline of his features. I stroke his hair back from his brow. ‘You were only five. What an awful thing to have witnessed.’
Alex hesitates. ‘Well, the strange thing is, I don’t actually remember it. I must have blocked out the memory. And my parents wouldn’t tell me anything, either. It was just like... one day he wasn’t there any more. When I asked where he was, they fobbed me off, changed the subject. I remember being really upset, feeling isolated. But then, eventually, when I confronted them, demanded to know where he was, they told me I was imagining things, that I’d never had a brother.’
I turn over and lean onto one elbow, facing him. ‘Are you serious? They really told you that?’
He nods. ‘Crazy, I know.’
‘So what happened?’
‘Well at first, I believed them. Sort of. I had no choice other than to believe them, although, deep down, I knew he was real. And then, one day, when I was around fifteen, I was searching through the attic for an old pair of rugby boots, and I found a photo of the two of us, together, me and my brother, aged around three or four, my father holding us both on his knee. And so I confronted them.’
‘What did they say?’
‘Well, my mother continued trying to deny it at first. She started making up some ridiculous story about him being a playmate. But he looked just like me – and just like my father, too. We weren’t identical twins, but you could see we were all related. My father stepped in and told her to be quiet. He said that they hadn’t wanted me to suffer, so they’d tried to shield me.’
‘By pretending that he’d never existed?’ I say, aghast.
‘They knew I’d blame myself.’
‘But how could you...’
Alex’s chest stops moving underneath my head. I can tell that he’s holding his breath. He says, ‘I was there, wasn’t I? He died, I survived.’
Suddenly, Alex’s interest in helping Ben makes perfect sense. Now, I can see what’s happening. No matter how ridiculous or unwarranted, he blames himself for his brother’s death; and he has some deep-rooted need to find redemption for being the twin who didn’t drown.
I lay my head against his shoulder and we lie still, saying nothing for several minutes as I feel his chest rise and fall beneath me. I hope that Alex isn’t expecting too much from Ben. What he’s learned to do on the computer feels like some kind of miracle, but I’m under no illusion that tomorrow is going to herald another leap forward in his development. Ben’s problems are significant. They will always be significant. He’s never going to develop into a normal child.
I roll over and kiss him. His arm circles my waist and he pulls me towards him.
‘I’m sorry about your family,’ I whisper into his ear. ‘But you’ve got me. Me and Ben. If you want us, that is.’
Alex runs his hand down the length of my spine. I feel his chest rise and fall underneath me as he lets out an unmistakable, deep sigh. After a moment he cups my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but then changes his mind and draws my head onto his shoulder.
‘Of course I want you,’ he says into my hair. ‘I want you very much.’
*
In the morning, we wake late. Alex makes coffee and gives Ben his breakfast while I hurriedly take a shower and get dressed.
‘Alex, have you seen my papers?’ I call out to him, as I open and shut the doors to my wardrobe. I could have sworn I’d brought home the paper copies of the statements in Ellie’s case after I’d scanned them the day before yesterday. I thought I’d left the file in a bag on the wardrobe floor.
‘What papers?’ Alex calls from the bathroom, where he’s now shaving.
‘You know,’ I call back. ‘The attempted murder case. Those papers you helped me scan to my iPad.’
‘Oh. Those.’ Alex walks out of the bathroom. He’s bare-chested and he has shaving foam round his chin and a razor in his hand. ‘Do you still need them? You’ve got it all on your iPad, haven’t you?’
‘Yes. But my boss has asked for them. I’m guessing he wants to give them to Matt.’ I pull a face.
Alex frowns for a moment and then looks up. ‘Ah. Hang on a minute, I remember now.’ He strides off into the kitchen, opens a cabinet above the cooker, removes the lever-arch folder of papers I’d been looking for and hands them to me. ‘I moved them into this cupboard. I’d completely forgotten.’ He grins. ‘Ben got hold of them.’
‘Oh God. Thank you,’ I say, taking the file from him and kissing him. ‘I’m sorry. He’s a nightmare.’
Alex ruffles the top of Ben’s head. ‘He’s just keeping us on our toes,’ he says. ‘Give him a few years and he’ll be running rings around us.’
I smile, and raise my eyebrows, inwardly elated that Alex is talking as if we have a future together. I’m not stupid; I know that this is how it is at the start of a relationship, how easy it is when you’re all loved-up and optimistic to drop idle hints about the next steps together, to make promises and plans. I also know how it is once the bubble bursts and reality seeps in; I know about the competing demands of work, love and children, about the degree of compromise a relationship requires, especially when you have a child like Ben. But today, more than ever before, I understand what’s in it for Alex. I believe, at last, that he might actually need me and Ben as much as we need him.
I walk over, stand on tiptoes and put my arms round his shoulders, pulling him to me and kissing him slowly. Alex wraps his arms round me and draws me close. His mouth is warm and tastes of coffee. His newly shaved skin is smooth, his aftershave delicious.
‘I’ve got to go,’ I tell him, reluctantly. ‘I’m going to be late. Bloody Gareth.’
Alex lifts Ben out of his chair. ‘Come on. Let me give you a lift down to the office and then I can drop Ben off afterwards.’
‘You don’t mind?’
He shakes his head. ‘No. I’ve got a late-morning meeting. It’s fine. You don’t want to give Gareth anything else to be upset about.’
I give him a grateful smile. ‘Thank you, Alex. I really appreciate this.’
As we sit in traffic on the Holloway Road, heading towards Highbury, I flick through the papers on my lap. I can’t bear the thought of giving the case to Matt, of stepping aside and watching from the sidelines while he takes the case through to trial. But it looks as though I’m going to have no choice.
‘So what’s your meeting about?’ I ask Alex.
Alex indicates and switches lanes. ‘It’s with one of my fund managers,’ he says. ‘See how the old stocks are doing.’
‘It’s been a turbulent year,’ I say.
Alex gives me a sideways look and starts laughing.
‘OK,’ I confess. ‘I have absolutely nothing else I can add to that conversation.’
‘That’s OK,’ he smiles. ‘As it happens, neither do I.’
‘Alex,’ I venture, after a moment. ‘You know what we were talking about last night. About your family. Can I ask you a question?’
He hesitates for a moment. ‘Sure.’
‘How long ago did the car crash happen, the one that killed your parents?’
Alex looks over his shoulder and switches lanes again. He furrows his brow in concentration and then slows right down. ‘I can’t stop here. It’s a red route. Can I turn here?’ He points to the road on the right.
‘Yes. You can go down this one. The office is just over there.’
He turns right into the road just ahead of the court building. As he slows down, shifts out of gear and pulls on the handbrake, I place my hand on his.
He turns to me and smiles. ‘Sarah, actually, do you mind if we don’t talk about that any more?’
‘Of course,’ I agree. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’
He leans over and gives me a peck on the cheek, but he doesn’t say, ‘You weren’t prying.’ Instead, he says, ‘Good luck. Really. I’ll be thinking of you. I hope it goes OK.’
‘Thank you.’ I get out of the car and open the back door. I give Ben a kiss on the nose. I wave as Alex drives away then walk round the corner and cross the road to the office.
*
Matt is behind the reception desk talking to Lucy when I walk in. They both immediately stop talking as I enter; neither says ‘hello’. I walk on past them up to Gareth’s room and knock on the door.
He waves me into a seat. ‘I’ve forwarded you the response form,’ he says. ‘From the SRA. It’s your opportunity to put your side of things.’
‘So, you do acknowledge that there’s another side to all this?’ I ask him.
Gareth sighs and leans back in his chair. ‘I’m struggling to see one, Sarah, I have to say. But you’re the advocate. So, you tell me. How do you justify breaching the hospital’s rules, their security, in the way that you did? A children’s hospital, of all places. A children’s ward. Christ, you know all about child protection, the issues involved...’
‘I was trying to find witnesses,’ I say. ‘That’s all. The hospital administration manager was being obstructive. Someone at the hospital may well be hiding something. That might be what this is all about.’
Gareth sighs again and shakes his head, quickly, impatiently. ‘Or it may just be a conspiracy theory on your part.’
I shrug. ‘Maybe. I may be wrong. But that doesn’t alter the fact that I have a duty to Ellie to try and find out.’
Gareth shakes his head. ‘I disagree. You take your client’s instructions and you prepare her defence based on those instructions. Poking around for witnesses that may not even exist is not what we’re being paid for.’
‘But that’s the problem. Her instructions don’t amount to anything.’
‘Then maybe she’s guilty.’
‘But maybe she’s not. She’s told me she didn’t do it, and it’s my job to follow that through, test the evidence. If it’s all going to come down to money every time, then we may as well give up now, bring back the death penalty, let them all hang.’
Gareth taps his pen on the table and looks at me for a moment. I can see that he’s fuming. ‘I’m told that you were found at the bedside of the baby, the victim in the case. That you were playing with the baby.’
I nod. I have no defence to this one. ‘Yes. I... I came across him by accident. I was really only... sometimes it helps at trial, to set the scene.’
Gareth looks me in the eye. ‘Not by breaking someone else’s rules, it doesn’t.’
I stare at the floor and bite my lip. ‘Please don’t give the case to Matt. It’s not fair on Ellie, asking her to change solicitors a matter of weeks before her trial.’
Gareth sniffs. ‘She’s not changing law firms,’ he says. ‘You’ll be on hand to help him if anything is unclear.’
I nod. I suppose I should be grateful that he’s not sacking me.
‘So, other than being on hand to help Matt if he needs it, what do you want me to do?’
‘Trial preparation,’ he says. ‘In the office. At least until you’ve filed your response and we’ve heard back from the SRA.’
When I walk out of Gareth’s room, Matt is in the hallway. I can tell that he’s been hovering near the door, listening in. ‘All right?’ He smiles at me. ‘Ready for the handover?’
I push the case file into his arms and follow him into our room. I pull my chair over to his desk and sit down next to him.
My phone rings. I pull it out of my handbag; it’s the school. I glance up at Matt. ‘I need to get this,’ I say. Matt rolls his eyes towards the ceiling and purses his lips.
‘Hi, Sarah,’ says Ben’s teacher, Jennie. ‘I was just wondering... is Ben ill?’
My heart leaps. ‘Why do you say that? What’s happened?’
Jennie hesitates. ‘Well, that’s why I’m phoning you,’ she says, sounding confused. ‘I wondered whether he was coming in today.’
‘What? You mean he’s not there yet?’
‘No. Should he have been?’
I move the phone away from my ear and peer at the time. It’s gone ten o’clock. Alex left with Ben over an hour ago. What on earth can have happened to them? ‘My partner was bringing him,’ I say, weakly. ‘I’ll have to call him, find out where they are. I’ll... I’ll call you back as soon as I know.’
‘Of course. Don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation,’ Jennie says. ‘But let me know if there’s anything I can do.’
‘Thanks, Jennie.’
I end the call and quickly scroll to Alex’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. My phone beeps as I hang up.
‘Ready?’ says Matt.
I glance up at him, my heart hammering against my chest. Have they had a car accident? Have they crashed? What other explanation could there be? ‘No. You’ll have to... read the papers and...’ I tail off. ‘My son’s missing. I have to find him.’
Without waiting for his reply, I grab my coat and bag and run down the stairs and out of the office into the street. I run across the road to the side road where I last left Ben and Alex and then jog up the Holloway Road. Calm down, Sarah, I tell myself, reminding myself of Jennie’s words. There’s bound to be a logical explanation. But if they’d had an accident it would be along this stretch of the road, between here and the school, so if I just keep walking... and phoning... and walking some more...
I mentally tick off the side roads as I pass them. Liverpool Road, George’s Road, Eden Grove. I’m nearly halfway there now. I tap on Alex’s number again. It goes straight to voicemail for a second time. Is that a good sign? I wonder. Doesn’t that mean he has no signal or is on another call? If he’d been hurt, if he couldn’t answer, surely it would ring out? And come to think of it, if there’d been a serious accident between here and the school there’d be a tailback of traffic still, emergency vehicles... wouldn’t there? I slow back down to a walking pace and catch my breath. But where can they be? And why hasn’t Alex called me?
I cross the road just before Biddestone Park and head down Jackson Road in the direction of the school. Then I wonder if Alex has perhaps driven the other way, down Hornsey Road or maybe even further back at Drayton Park. I stop in my tracks and heave out a sigh. Maybe I should just head home. Perhaps they’re there? Maybe there’s a really simple explanation for this – one that I just haven’t thought of yet.
My heart sinks as I turn the corner into my street and see that there’s no sign of Alex’s car outside my house. I let myself in and call out for him, but there’s clearly nobody there. I ring the school again and am told that they still haven’t arrived. I call Alex, twice. It’s now approaching eleven o’clock. It’s two hours since I left them.
I walk into the kitchen and put the kettle on. I pull a clean cup out of the dishwasher and drop a chamomile teabag into it. I need to calm down, I keep telling myself. Everything is going to be OK. While I wait for the kettle to boil, I stand at the window in the living room, looking out, trying to work out what to do next. Is it too early to call the police?
Suddenly, I hear the noise of a car engine outside and Alex’s car pulls up. I almost faint with relief when I see him get out, go to the back door and open it. I race to the front door and run down the path. Alex is lifting Ben out of his car seat and holding him against his shoulder. I can see instantly that Ben is floppy, asleep or... worse?
‘Alex?’ I scream out. I run over and tug at his arm, trying to get a look at Ben’s face. ‘What’s happened? What’s happened to Ben?’
Alex looks up, clearly – from the look on his face – completely surprised to see me. ‘Sarah. What are you doing here?’
‘Me? Never mind what I’m doing. What’s happened to Ben?’
Alex heaves Ben up onto his shoulder. He touches my arm. ‘It’s OK,’ he says. ‘Ben’s fine. He’s just a bit sleepy...’
‘What the hell’s happened? Where on earth have you been? I’ve been going out of my mind!’ I shout at him. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’
Alex presses his key fob to lock the car. ‘Shall we...’ He nods towards my front door. I shake my head, infuriated that he’s concerned with what the neighbours think when he still hasn’t told me what’s wrong with Ben. He carries Ben inside. I follow him up the path. ‘Give him to me,’ I insist, as soon as we’re inside the hallway. Alex pushes the front door shut. I pull Ben out of his arms and kiss his face. He opens his eyes, sleepily, and gives me a faint smile.
Alex runs his hand through his hair, pushing his fringe back. He looks mortified. ‘I’m so sorry, Sarah. Ben was sick, he threw up in the car right after you left. I took him straight to A&E. I knew you had your meeting. I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t realise you’d be... that you’d know... how did you...?’
‘The school phoned me,’ I say stiffly. ‘Wanting to know where he was.’ I walk into the front room and lay Ben down on the sofa. ‘Didn’t you realise they’d be worried?’
‘I’m really sorry,’ Alex says again. ‘I had no idea I’d worried them... you... anyone. I was trying to do the opposite. You had your meeting and... I was just thinking of Ben. I just thought, straight away... “Get him checked out. That’s the best thing to do.” Knowing his history, you know? I didn’t want to take any chances.’
I take a deep breath. ‘So what did they say at A&E? It’s just a tummy bug, surely? It’s been all round the nursery.’
Alex breathes out heavily and bites his lip. ‘Of course. That’s all it will be. They said he’d be fine. They just checked him over. Lots of fluid and rest. You know.’
I nod and let out a long sigh as I feel my pulse rate return to normal. I lean forward and stroke Ben’s hair back from his head. ‘He seems very sleepy,’ I say.
Alex nods. ‘Yes. He was very sick. He just needs some rest, to sleep it off.’
‘You should have called me,’ I reprimand him. ‘Always call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, where I am. You need to always let me know.’
Alex scratches his head and looks at his feet. ‘Of course. I’m sorry.’
I take another long breath. ‘I’m sorry he threw up in your car,’ I say. ‘Is it a mess? Do you want me to clean it up?’
‘It’s fine.’ Alex shakes his head. ‘I’ll sort it, don’t worry. You stay with Ben.’ He stands up. ‘Do you want me to get a blanket from his room?’
‘No. I’ll put him to bed.’
‘Let me.’ Alex leans over and tucks his hands under Ben’s body and lifts him gently off the sofa. I watch, my anger melting as he holds Ben’s head against his arm with his spare hand, his long fingers gently stroking my son’s beautiful hair. He loves Ben. He was thinking of Ben, that’s all. And me. He was thinking of me, too. I should be grateful that he cares enough about both of us, enough to risk missing his morning meeting, to make sure I didn’t miss mine, while he got Ben checked out, made sure he was definitely OK. I suddenly remember the way that Alex had reacted when Ben was at the lake in the park, how he’d sprung at Ben and pulled him away from the water. He may have overreacted a little, but isn’t it better to have someone who’s too cautious around Ben than someone who doesn’t care?
I can hear my phone ringing from the coffee table where I’ve left it.
Alex nods at me. ‘Get it. I’ll go and put him down.’
‘It’s probably the office,’ I sigh. ‘Wondering where I am.’
I reach over and grab my phone from the table while Alex takes Ben in the direction of the bedroom. The ringing stops as I pick it up. Before I can even check the number and call it back, it rings again. I look at the screen, but it’s a number I don’t recognise. I’ll let it go to voicemail, I decide. But then... 0-1-8-6-5. Where’s that?
I swipe the slider to the right. A male voice that I don’t recognise says, ‘Hello. Is that Sarah Kellerman?’
‘Yes. Who’s calling?’ I ask, a tiny flicker of impatience escaping into my voice. I should have let it go to voicemail. I need to see to Ben.
‘My name’s Mark Greenhalgh,’ says the man. ‘You left a message for me.’
‘Mark...?’ I stutter in surprise. ‘Mark Greenhalgh? Really?’
‘Yes, I know it’s taken me a while to get back to you, and I’m sorry about that,’ his voice continues. ‘I did get your message, but I’ve hardly been in clinic at all since you called.’
‘That’s OK,’ I say. ‘Thank you for calling. I’m really glad you did.’
‘So how can I help?’
‘I’m a solicitor... did the message say?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK. Well, I’m... I’ve been working on a case. It’s an important case. And there’s an important witness for the prosecution – a nurse. The police took a statement from her, but after that they couldn’t find her. She seems to have gone missing. You sponsored her for a while, I’m told. I wondered if you might know where she’s gone.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Mary Ngombe. She’s African. From Ghana.’
Mark Greenhalgh laughs. It’s a deep, throaty laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’ I ask.
‘She’s not missing,’ he says. ‘I don’t know why the police couldn’t find her.’
‘Really? You know where she is?’
‘I do indeed,’ says Mark Greenhalgh. ‘She’s here at the John Radcliffe, with me.’