6

Nick drove back to the shelter and waited while Hope put Angel to bed. He stayed in the main dining hall, very aware of the fact he shouldn’t be alone with Hope; especially not in the staff sleeping quarters.

Even if the small lounge area up there would afford them the privacy they’d need for this conversation, there were rules and as a pastor he couldn’t break them. In fact, he had more to abide by, as Jack kept reminding him at their weekly mentoring sessions.

He busied himself with making tea, and then waiting for her. As Hope came in, he held out the tea. “Just the way you like it.”

She dropped into the chair beside him. “Thank you.”

“Did she go down all right?”

“She’s a little out of sorts. A bit hot, but then it’s been a busy day. She said some of the kids are off sick. I’m hoping she doesn’t go down with it. This isn’t the best place to look after a sick kid.”

Nick nodded. He glanced across the room.

DS Painter was watching him and Hope. The officer was sat with another man, just as disheveled.

Nick assumed that was the officer taking over the nightshift. “So, where were we?”

“You were asking questions I really don’t want to answer. Not in front of Angel and not now, either.”

“What are you so afraid of? Do you really think if I knew who you were I wouldn’t like you anymore?”

“Something like that.”

“Please, just give me a chance to help.”

“You can’t put it right. It’s too late.” She got to her feet.

“Hope, please.” His hand shot out and grabbed hers. He swallowed, not expecting a simple touch to send such emotion rocketing through him. “Sit down. Tell me why you’re living here and not in the flat. OK, the flats aren’t perfect, and I know they have a no child policy, but I also know that wasn’t why you were evicted.”

Hope looked at him, her eyes glistening, and then she sat. “I’m a social worker. At least I was until they fired me. Someone accused me of certain things that make me unemployable. I didn’t do any of them. But my boss said he’d have to involve the police and they’d investigate the claims.”

“What claims?”

“Abuse of power, misappropriation of funds, improper conduct, you name it. Apparently, it comes from several sources. Complaints from my clients.” Her face reddened. “And they’re also accusing me of solicitation.”

Nick frowned. “That’s a little extreme.”

She looked down. “I guess.”

His hand brushed over hers. “Hope?”

She shook her head. “Anyway, the flat went with the job, and here I am. I can’t go home before you suggest that. Or go to my aunt’s place. She’d only tell Mum and Dad where I am. I have to fix this on my own.” She took a deep breath. “All I have left is a very battered photo and lots of memories of when I was growing up.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

She looked at him, a morose expression on her face. “When they arrest me, look after Angel. Make sure she doesn’t go into care.”

“It won’t come to that. Go to the police voluntarily, make a statement.”

“But it might. You don’t understand or know the sorts of people I was working with. If one of them has a grudge, then they have the wherewithal to get enough evidence to make those charges stick. Just promise me when that happens, if that happens, you’ll keep Angel safe.”

Nick nodded slowly. There must be more he could do. Hope and Angel had a family out there somewhere. Maybe, given time, he could persuade her to let him help her find them.

****

Hope spent the following day avoiding everyone she could. Apart from Nick. He was the only person she felt safe around. One of the homeless people in particular gave her the creeps.

He’d said his name was Simon. He seemed to follow her around with his gaze. Every time she looked up, he was watching her. Perhaps he was in league with the bloke with the knife.

As darkness fell, she gave Angel her coat. “We’re going to see the Christmas lights.” She had to get out, get Angel away from this man and anyone else who wanted to hurt her. “And whoever sees the most Christmas trees gets to choose the book at bedtime.”

Angel beamed and coughed. “Yay. I love competitions. I always win.”

“That would be because I let you win.” Hope tugged the bobble hat over Angel’s head, and tied on the scarf.

Angel pouted. “Not fair.”

“But you like winning.” Hope tweaked her daughter’s nose. “However tonight I’m going to win because I am tired of reading Penelope Goes to the Fair.”

Angel immediately started counting trees and house with lights on almost the second they left the crisis center.

Hope kept walking, heading towards the church. She wondered if there would be a sign up outside detailing the Christmas services. Angel had asked several times about the carol service Nick had mentioned. Going to that wouldn’t hurt.

“This is God’s house,” Angel said. “Are we going to see Him?”

Hope smiled. “I don’t think you can see God, not like that. But you wanted to go to the carol service, so I thought we’d see when it was.”

“Why don’t we go and see your aunt? What’s her name?”

“My aunt?”

“You said last night she lives in a florist in Carnation Street.”

“You remember far too much,” Hope said. She sighed.

“That’s because I have a photographic memory,” Angel said, coughing again. “Mr. Evans-Teush said so.”

“Hmmm, did he? And speaking of Mr. E-T, I don’t suppose he’s far away is he?”

Angel reached into her pocket and pulled out the rabbit’s head. “Nope. He’s right here. What’s your aunt’s name? And your brother and sisters?”

“My aunt’s name is Tilja. My brother is Rick, and my sisters are Grace and Faith.”

“Is their surname Hargitay as well?”

Hope closed her eyes for a moment. “No.”

“Twenty five,” Angel said triumphantly, pointing at yet another Christmas tree in a window. “What’s their surname then?”

“Chadwick,” Hope said quietly. She stopped outside the church. The door was ajar and organ music came from within.

The phone in her coat pocket rang, making her jump. She’d forgotten it was there. Reaching down, she pulled the handset out and looked at the screen. The battery was only five percent, but she knew the number. “I have to take this call.” She hit the green button. “Hello?”

The phone died.

Hope looked at Angel. “I need you to wait here for me. I have to go to the phone box opposite church and make a call.”

“Can’t I come with you?”

Hope shook her head. “It’s right over there and I won’t be long. Just sit here.”

“It’s too cold. Can I sit inside and listen to the music?”

“I need you to stay here where I can see you. I need to know you’re safe.”

“This is God’s house, so of course I’ll be safe. You said He takes care of people, right?”

Hope nodded.

“So a church is one of the safest places to be.”

Hope kissed her forehead. “When did you get so wise? OK, sit right inside the chapel at the back and don’t move.” She watched Angel slip inside the church, and then headed across the street to the phone box before she changed her mind.

Snow began to fall, swirling around her as she stepped inside the old fashioned red phone box. She dialed quickly. The call answered immediately. “Yes?”

“It’s Hope Hargitay. My phone died.”

She shuddered as the voice snarled a string of expletives at her. She now knew for certain who had told the DSS her past. “Why?” she asked. “Why now?”

“Because it’s time you paid,” he told her roughly. “You’ll lose your child the way you took mine away from me.”

The call cut off as the money Hope put in ran out. She replaced the receiver and leaned against the phone box, trying not to cry. It had been her first case. She was doing things by the book, only no one had expected the outcome. She and the entire department had been cleared of any wrongdoing.

Taking a deep breath, she exited the phone box and headed back across the road to get Angel. Her coat lay on the back pew where she’d presumably been sitting. The church was empty. Angel and Mr. E-T were gone.

“Angel!”

No answer came. Hope turned round wildly. Where was Angel? Had someone taken her as they’d threatened? Maybe she’d gone back to the shelter, but why on earth had she gone without her coat? She would freeze.

Hope left the church and ran back to the shelter. She burst through the doors and ran up to her room. “Angel! Are you here?” Again no answer came. Hope ran back down the stairs and into the main hall. “Has anyone seen Angel?”

Lots of heads shook a negative.

Simon rose to his feet. “Have you lost her, miss?” he asked.

“I can’t find her anywhere. She was sitting in the church while I made a phone call. I just turned my back for a second. Is Nick here?”

“He’s gone home.”

Hope turned, desperation making her feel sick. She went back into the swirling snow, her stomach turning and twisting and a metaphorical knife sticking into her chest. She ran back to the church.

The church door was now closed. It hadn’t been before. She pushed on it, but it didn’t budge. She went down the side and pushed on that door, hitting the doorbell and shouting her daughter’s name. No one came. Blind panic filled her and overflowed. She whirled around, tears falling. “Angel, where are you?”

Now what did she do? She had to find help, but how? She had no more change to call the police or the pastor whose number was on the notice board on the front of the church.

Perhaps Angel was still inside and couldn’t get out.

Nick. She’d walk to find Nick. He’d have a key to get into the church, surely. All pastors had keys to the church. He lived where she used to and she could get there in ten minutes or so. She ran, her feet slipping on the snow and ice until she reached the flats. She banged on the caretakers door. “Mr. Burns…”

He opened the door. “What is it, Hope? I can’t give you the place back.”

“I don’t want it. I need to find Nick Slater. Which is his place?”

“Five seventeen.”

Hope turned and ran up the five floors, her breathing labored and the pain in her chest increasing. She found the door and pounded on it. “Nick!”

No one came.

Tears fell like a waterfall. She turned and stumbled down the five flights of steps. What now? Where could she go for help? Perhaps she could find the manse? Maybe they’d have a key to the church.

She reached the bridge, watching the reflection of the lights in the water below. The higher the bridge went, the prettier it looked. Angel loved it here. Hope began to run. Something blue on the edge of the bridge caught her eye. Bending down she picked up. A shaft of grief pierced her anew. Angel’s rabbit. She clung tightly to the toy. She looked up at the sky, snow falling in her eyes. “God, if You’re there, please, help me find her.”