Playing Nice

Page 61

“I am, yes. Who are you?”

“I’m Saul.”

Lucy appears in the hallway, holding Theo’s hand. He’s in his coat, carrying a drawing. “Oh, hello Maddie,” she says in her usual vague way.

“What’s going on?” I say. “Where’s Tania?”

“Look, Mummy!” Theo says impatiently, waving the drawing at me. “It’s a exploshun!”

“You’ve drawn an explosion. That’s a nice drawing, Theo. What’s exploding?”

   This is a detail Theo clearly hasn’t considered. While he’s thinking, Lucy says in a rush, “It was Pete’s idea, actually.”

“Pete’s?” I echo.

“Yes—he mentioned it to the CAFCASS woman. About how Theo might benefit from a nanny with better English. And the suggestion there should be another little boy for him to play with. Saul’s going to be with us three days a week from now on.” As I stand up from looking at Theo’s drawing, Lucy adds, “So you see, we are listening. When it’s something for Theo—something that’ll help him—we’ll always try to do the right thing. Really, we’re very reasonable people. And Jill’s terrific. She’s a Norland, you know—they’re the absolute best. We’re already seeing such a difference. I mean, Theo is always adorable, isn’t he, but sometimes he can be a bit of a live wire, and not always do what he’s asked. He’ll do anything for Jill.”

Theo, looking at his drawing, comes to a decision. “ ’S’an exploding house, Mummy! Pow! Pow! Pow!”

82


   PETE


   “I ALMOST EXPLODED MYSELF,” Maddie said.

“I think I would have.” I finished the last mouthful of coffee. “God, I miss this coffee machine. Greg and Kate have one of those pod things.”

“What’s really annoying is that now Miles and Lucy will take all the credit for the improvement in Theo’s behavior. When the truth is, it’s down to you.” Maddie gestured at my star charts, still Blu-Tacked to the walls. I noticed she hadn’t kept up with most of them.

I sighed. “I suppose the chances of getting Theo out of that nanny share and into a nursery are now precisely zilch.”

Maddie nodded. “And guess what? I looked up Norland nannies’ salaries. Experienced ones earn over sixty grand a year.”

“Bloody hell!”

“Which Miles and Lucy will no doubt invoice us for half of, when they claim child maintenance for David.” Maddie straightened her back. “But we are not going to let this get us down. We are going to win.”

   I didn’t reply. It increasingly seemed to me that Miles wasn’t putting a foot wrong, while we were floundering. “What about St. Alexander’s? How did you get on?”

“Oh—they’re out of special measures, or whatever it was called. That spike in mortality was due to staff shortages, apparently. And Bronagh and Paula have both been reinstated.” Maddie shook her head. “On reflection, that was probably a bit fanciful, to think they might have had anything to do with it. After all, how much of a coincidence would it be if there was a psychopath and a rogue nurse on the same ward at the same time?”

“Which one did you speak to—Bronagh or Paula?” I turned and put my cup under the Jura’s spout. “I think I’ll have another cup.”

“Both. They’re friends, actually. Which reminds me—you didn’t tell me they came to meet the bike ride in York.”

“Didn’t I?” I pushed the button, and the noise of the grinding beans meant I had to wait a few moments before replying. “Greg did mention that some of the nurses turned up. But I wasn’t there by then. York was where I peeled off and came back here, remember? I got back on the Friday morning.”

“Oh.” Maddie thought. “Was it Friday? The days were a bit of a blur by then.”

I nodded. “So I gathered.”

“And when Bronagh told you about her suspension, when exactly was that? She messaged you, presumably?”

“Maddie, what is this?” I protested.

“I’m just trying to get a time line in my head. Unless you don’t want to tell me, of course.”

I shrugged. “I can’t remember the exact date. It was the morning after the Lamberts served the Notice of Proceedings—that day we both took Theo to their house, and Lucy offered to make us tea. And yes, Bronagh messaged.” My cappuccino was done now, so I took it out of the machine. “And I messaged back, but she wanted to meet, so we had a coffee at a Starbucks near the hospital.”

   “I didn’t realize you actually met up. She implied it was just a text exchange when I spoke to her.”

“Well, it wasn’t. Look, I did a stupid thing, okay?” I said, exasperated. “I offered to help her out, and I probably shouldn’t have. You would have talked me out of it if you’d known. So yes, my bad. But considering everything else that’s going on, is that really the priority?”

“Probably not,” Maddie agreed.

We were both silent for a while.

“I think we should try to track down Tania next,” Maddie said thoughtfully.

“Why? Presumably she’ll have been handsomely paid off by the Lamberts.”

“She might be pretty angry, even so. She only had that job a few weeks, which doesn’t look good on anyone’s CV. And she lived in the house with them. I’ve a feeling she might be able to tell us something useful.”

“All right, then. But let’s do it quietly. I’d feel awful if she suffered the same fate as Jane Tigman and that whistleblower.” I went and put my coffee cup in the sink. “I’ll go and hurry Theo up. I want to read him his story before I head over to Greg and Kate’s.”

I took the stairs two at a time, relieved that our conversation about Bronagh was now over.

83


   MADDIE


   THE PRELIMINARY HEARING TAKES place in a bland, 1960s building on Cricklewood Lane—it could be a public library, if it weren’t for the royal coat of arms outside. There’s a smaller version of the same crest on the wall of the courtroom, which otherwise looks just like any medium-sized meeting room in a slightly run-down office. The judge, a brisk woman in her fifties called Marion Wakefield, wears a gray suit and sits behind a desk on a slightly raised platform.

The Lamberts sit with their barrister and solicitor on one side of a row of chairs facing the judge, and Pete and I sit on the other with Anita. It’s all surprisingly informal—none of the lawyers wear a wig or gown, or get to their feet to speak. Lyn the CAFCASS adviser—who turns out to be a tiny, innocuous-looking woman with sharp eyes—sits on her own, in the second row of chairs.

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