I pressed the number for my secret weapon, and mentally girded myself for the conversation. Unfortunately, this secret weapon could also be a bit of a double-edged sword.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Mum, it’s Sam.’
‘Oh, Sam, lovely to hear from you. Hang on a moment, I’ll just turn off the kettle.’
I waited a moment, listening to the click as she flicked up the switch, silencing the simmering hum in the background.
‘I’m back,’ she declared, before launching straight in, no customary hi’s or how are you’s.
‘So have you finished up at work yet? You know it’s not good for you to carry on so late in your pregnancy. You need to get some rest and get your strength up for what’s ahead. In my day we didn’t work right to the last minute like you young people do nowadays. It’s not healthy for you, or the baby.’
At some point I knew she had to draw a breath and I might get a word in.
‘Your sister-in-law was sensible and took two months off before Harriet was born.’
I liked the way she not only managed to compare me to Saint Sheryl, her beloved daughter-in-law, AKA ‘she who could do no wrong’, but with the accent on the words ‘sister-in-law’ also managed to get a subtle dig in about the fact Paul and I weren’t married, something she did not approve of. I actually really liked Sheryl, but in Mum’s eyes her attributes had grown to mythic proportions.
‘I don’t think you appreciate how tiring it is to give birth to a baby, and then have to deal with the newborn.’
I was surprised she hadn’t brought up her disapproval of my chosen profession yet, compared to Sheryl’s godly nurse status.
‘Believe me, you’ll regret not having a proper break.’ She took a pause to breathe, so I grabbed my opportunity.
‘I’ve only got a week left at work, which will give me a good couple of weeks before the baby is due.’
‘Oh, Sam, that’s not enough. What if the baby comes early? Then you will have had no time to yourself.’
‘That’s not likely to happen. My midwife said the vast majority of first babies end up overdue, so—’
‘Yes, but your job isn’t safe either. There are all sorts of stresses and dangers that could bring baby on. It’s not like Sheryl’s situation in nursing, where she was in a normal, stable environment. And they took her off night shifts early on in the piece. No, you’re out there with all of those criminals, and, you know, it’s not just about you anymore, you’ve got that baby to think of. You shouldn’t be putting it at risk.’
I was beginning to regret activating the secret weapon. She was going full guilt-trip on me. I had to somehow turn the conversation around, away from the usual expected pings and recriminations, and get to the main reason I rang her, other than getting lashings of her peculiar form of love.
‘Speaking of babies, I need to ask you a bit of a favour.’
Mum was one of these women who liked to feel needed so that she could then be martyrish about any help she gave. I felt no shame in appealing to this. Anyway, after her onslaught, I felt quite justified in deflecting her attention by pandering to her ego.
‘You know you can ask me anything.’ I almost snorted. ‘What do you need?’
‘I need your knitting expertise,’ I said. That would pique her interest.
‘Oh? Do you need some more knitting done for you?’ No I didn’t, well, yes I did, because you could never have too much, but that wasn’t the purpose of the call.
‘You know the big case we’re working on?’
‘The murder and kidnap one, where they just found the baby?’
‘Yes, that’s the one.’
‘I saw it on the news – that poor man carrying her out of the hospital to take her home. It was very upsetting, but I’m so happy she’s safe.’
We all were.
‘You know how an off-duty police officer found her?’
‘Yes, they mentioned that.’
‘That officer was me.’
‘Oh, really? That was you? But he didn’t say it was you – that man who spoke on the news, the man in charge.’
‘Detective Inspector Johns, yes, my boss.’
‘Why didn’t he say it was you?’
I’d watched the news segment, and The Boss had mentioned that a staffer found the baby, but true to form, had turned it around so it looked like the find was a result of his hard work in leading the investigation, rather than blind luck that I happened to have been walking past that particular playground in the rain and had stopped to investigate. I didn’t have the energy to go there with Mum, so I got to the point.
‘Did you notice the hat she was wearing?’ I asked.
‘I saw she had a knitted one on. It was very cute.’
‘Well, it was very cute because you made it.’
I heard a sharp intake of breath. ‘Sam, did you give away the things I knitted especially for you and my grandchild?’
Bugger. I should have anticipated she’d turn that into a negative. My bad.
‘Look, Mum, when I found her she was wet and cold, and desperately needed something warm and dry. Your hat was there and it was perfect. You have to admit, it was exceptional circumstances. And I couldn’t really ask for it back afterwards, could I? That would have just looked mean. Think of it as a gift to the wee girl from you. It’s a pretty special hat for them now.’
I could just about hear the whirr of the cogs as she thought this over, no doubt trying to find a way to turn my argument back against me, but even her abilities would be stretched to counter that reasoning.
‘Well, I guess that is rather nice, then,’ she said, slowly, making the concession. ‘You know, I thought it looked familiar, but it never occurred to me in a million years that it would be one I’d made, and that you’d passed it on to someone else.’
Ping.
I sighed. ‘Well, there is something you could do that might help us solve the case – find some justice for baby Hope’s family.’
‘I don’t see how I could be of any help. I’m not even in Dunedin, and I’m no detective.’
‘No, but you have knowledge that could be useful. When I found her, she had on a lovely hand-knitted hat and some booties that were really quite distinctive. It was a cabled pattern and variegated wool. Do you still belong to that big knitting group on Facebook?’
‘Yes, of course I do. I like keeping up with what everyone else is making.’ I imagined she posted pictures of her work on the page – well, I hoped she did, because she was a very beautiful and skilled knitter, her work was near perfection. She had tried to teach me, which was excruciating for us both, and I could do the basics, but I left the complicated stuff up to the pro.
‘It could really help the investigation if we could find out who knitted that set. I was wondering if you could do a bit of enquiring to your group for me. It’s a bit of a long shot, but it might help lead us to who was responsible for all of this. You’d have to be discreet, no one can know it’s about the case.’
‘Well, how am I supposed to do that?’
‘I was thinking you could post a photo of the set on the group page and ask if anyone knew anything about it.’
‘Pifft, well that wouldn’t work,’ she said straight away. ‘That would just make people wonder why? Get all suspicious.’
I knew there would be resistance from her, but I had to keep trying. But before I could put in an amended plea, she carried on:
‘What I’d have to do is pop up the picture and say something like, “I saw these at a craft stall and really like the pattern and the wool. My daughter’s having a baby soon and I’d love to knit some for her. Can anyone help me out?” That would work better. I’d be sure to get some suggestions, and someone might even pipe up and say they had knitted that pattern in that wool, then you could just look at the profile of the person and see if they were from around Dunedin, or if they weren’t, if they’d been posting pictures of things they were knitting and bragging about for an upcoming baby or grandchild. People get very excited about grandchildren. You can just check through their friends list and see if there’s anyone from there, and Bob’s your uncle.’
Well, that was a bit of a surprise, and I had to give Mum full credit for coming up with a pretty solid plan. It also made me wonder how experienced she was at cyberstalking people on Facebook. For a self-confessed technophobe she was doing pretty well on the ins and outs of that platform.
‘How about you email me that picture, and I’ll get it on there straight away?’ She sounded positively excited by the prospect. There was nothing Mum liked more than a puzzle, or a challenge.
This had actually gone better than expected.