Expectant, page 21
‘Anything I can do to help?’
‘Well, you could phone more often for a start.’ And there we were, back to square one. There wasn’t anything I could say to defend that. My right foot was starting to go to sleep, so I shifted my position onto the other butt cheek.
‘How are you getting on with the Facebook knitting group?’ I asked. Appealing to her mission would hopefully improve the tone of the conversation.
‘And when you do ring it’s only because you want something.’
Apparently not.
‘Mum…’ I said. This time it was me who couldn’t hide the exasperation.
She must have got the message she might have pushed the aggrieved-parent angle a little too far, and after a little humph, answered the question.
‘I’ve had quite a few comments, but mostly along the lines of “they’re cute”, or “nice yarn”, that kind of thing. No one’s trumped up with the pattern yet, but there’s still time. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s something interesting. You could comment on the photo, yourself, then you could follow other comments easier. Or at least give me a like.’ It wasn’t lost on me my mother was asking me for affirmation. I wondered if she realised it. It wasn’t something she’d consciously do. The thought did make me smile.
‘I shouldn’t do that in case someone recognises my name and thinks better of responding.’
‘Oh, I suppose,’ she said.
‘But hey, I really appreciate you trying.’ While I seemed to be winning, I thought I’d keep on the positives. ‘You’ll be pleased to know I finish work tomorrow.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it. You really shouldn’t have left it so late. I worry about you and the baby in that job. It’s not safe.’
If she thought the everyday stuff wasn’t safe, she’d have a purple fit if she knew what was being planned.
‘You need time to get yourself organised as well as have a rest. And have you sorted that baby room yet?’
I wondered if she and Maggie were secretly in collusion.
‘We have started on it – got the cot assembled the other night. But we’ll have the baby in with us in the bassinet for a while.’ The wicker bassinet had cocooned three generations of my family so far, including Mum and me. It might not have looked the trendiest, and had clearly done some hard service, but the knowledge this wee girl would also be held safe and snug in there was immensely comforting.
‘Well, I guess that’s something,’ she said – again the note of disapproval. ‘What about your bag? Have you packed your hospital bag?’
Truth be told I hadn’t even thought about the hospital bag. Things had been so frantic with work and the case that it had completely slipped my mind. Could be an idea, though.
‘Of course I have, we’re all good to go.’
Hopefully one lie to my mother wouldn’t make me burn in hell. But sometimes the risk of eternal damnation was worth it to avoid another mini-lecture.
CHAPTER 57
It was done.
Our digi-tech staff, with the cooperation of the relevant health services, had altered my medical notes across the relevant patient information systems.
Naomi, with reluctance, had agreed to find a way to casually mention that I had had amnio further back in my pregnancy. I hadn’t told her straight out that it was Miriam that we suspected, but rather that it was someone within the profession, so I’d asked her to drop the hint as widely as she could. I’d explained that she was one of a number of trusted people we were employing to help in the case. I felt bad about the lying, but needs must. I seemed to be doing a bit too much of it lately.
The trap was set, and now all we had to do was wait.
Actually, that was not all we had to do. This was just one facet of the ongoing investigation, and one that could be barking completely up the wrong tree, but in my heart, I knew we were on the right track. The rest of the team were following up on other leads, no matter how tenuous – interviewing people, still sifting through hours of security video footage, and of course dealing with the ever-constant pressure to solve this case being applied by the hierarchy, the media and the community. Half the front page of the Otago Daily Times this morning was dedicated to decrying the efforts of the police in solving this case: ‘Police at a Loss.’ It didn’t help matters. We all wanted justice for Aleisha Newman and her family. Contrary to the picture the media was painting, no one was sitting around twiddling their thumbs, except perhaps me.
Being somewhat idle wasn’t doing me any favours. My stomach was still churning at the thought of Paul being so upset with me. He’d made an excuse to leave the station, and I hadn’t seen or heard from him since. It had been a given that he wouldn’t be happy about it when I pitched the idea of me as bait, but I hadn’t expected the depth of his displeasure. We were about to embark into this huge, scary new territory of parenthood together, and I had gone ahead and managed to erode his trust in me. Sure, my motivations were noble, and I felt so personally invested in this case, but when I had been thinking through all of the ramifications of pulling this stunt, I had missed what was perhaps the most obvious. I only hoped to God that I hadn’t done too much damage.
Maggie had always accused me of being a commitment-phobe, and that I was still holding something of myself back in the relationship. And she’d been right. But witnessing the hurt in Paul’s eyes, and realising that I could have inadvertently fucked up our relationship, made me realise how badly I needed us to work. How badly I wanted us to work.
The dread of going home tonight was hanging over my head like a gravid cloud. I knew I was going to have to do some serious damage control, and it was all on me.
CHAPTER 58
Well, here it was, my last day at work, and it all felt very weird. The day had started out as well as could be expected, given the tension in the house. Paul had made a point of making sure that I was feeling okay about this being my grand finale, which of course I was not. He had even packed me a special lunch, which included what he called a celebratory cupcake … decorated as a pink pig. The fact he must have organised that on the quiet yesterday made me feel even more of a shit for putting him through so much grief.
Now that I was in the office I felt at a bit of a loss. Everyone had buggered off on their tasks, so the place was devoid of life – eerily so. There was no point in starting anything new, so it was going to be a ‘tidy up the last of my reports in progress and try to stay out of the way of The Boss’ kind of a day. Didn’t feel like having my last hurrah on the premises spoiled by his glorious presence.
Of course, the glaring, neon-lit, flashing and tap-dancing thing that marred the occasion, and was the main source of my blahs, was the knowledge that I was leaving here without us having solved the Aleisha Newman case. If I was right about Miriam, then it felt so close, so brutally close. If I was wrong, then … It wasn’t often that I felt like an abject failure, but between the situation at home and the situation at work, today’s mood was rapidly sliding down that path. The burden of my promise to Helen and her family weighed heavy on my mind and my heart. It was gut-wrenching that we hadn’t definitively cracked it while I was still here. The only consolation was that I was uniquely able to contribute to the investigation from the fringes, if only by being a sounding board for Paul – provided I hadn’t pissed him off too much.
I drummed my fingers against the desk top, and looked at the collection of pot plants and trinkets that would have to come home for the next while. God knows where I was going to put them. There was a large empty box sitting under the desk, dragged in for that very purpose, but I couldn’t bring myself to fill it until the end of shift. I logged into the computer and pulled up a report on a fraud case that needed finishing. My eyes scanned down and started to glaze over before I’d even reached the bottom of the first page. It was going to be a very long day.
Some of the doldrums was relieved by pressing the controller on the desk and listening to the little whirr of the motor as the surface ascended to standing level, and then descended back to sitting level.
That never grew old.
Footsteps approaching down the corridor gave a glimmer of hope – for some company and of rescue from the tedium of paperwork. Don’t walk past, don’t walk past. It was with great delight and relief that I saw Laurie’s head poke around the corner. I punched the air, on the inside.
‘Hey Sam,’ she said, and looked up and down the room. ‘Crikey, where is everyone?’
I shrugged. Didn’t want to appear too keen to see someone.
‘No worries, you’ll do.’
I was very happy to be the ‘you’ll do’ gal.
‘What do you need?’ I asked. I would pretty much have agreed to any task at this point, short of lifting a piano.
‘We’ve got a few things that need sorting downstairs in the meeting room. If you’ve got the time I could do with a hand.’
She hadn’t even finished the sentence before I was hoisting myself up and heading to the door.
‘Happy to – more than happy to.’
She laughed as I breezed on past her.
‘Anyone would think you didn’t want to be here.’
‘Oh, I want to be here,’ I said, swinging my arms out, gesturing the whole damn building. ‘Just not stuck in there like Nigel No-Mates on my last day.’
‘Don’t blame you, it’s a bit grim.’
We trotted down the stairs and made our way onto the first floor.
‘So are you feeling ready for motherhood?’ Laurie asked.
‘Nope,’ I said.
‘Ha, well you’re not going to have much choice soon, as that kid will be coming, ready or not.’ With which she steered me into the meeting room to a greeting of ‘Surprise!’
Now I understood where half the populace had disappeared to. A sea of grinning faces welcomed me, and my eyes misted up as I took in the table covered in morning tea treats including a spectacular cake, a pile of brightly wrapped gifts and a bundle of helium balloons straining against their ribbons. Paul came over and gave me a squeeze and a self-conscious smooch on the cheek before Laurie took over the proceedings.
‘You know we couldn’t let you escape the place without a bit of a fuss, so we all wanted to say best wishes and good luck to you and Paul, but especially to you, because, damn girl, that baby looks huge on you.’
I ran my hands around my girth, and then did a turn to the left, and then a turn to the right, with a little sashay, working it like a runway model, including the pout.
Cheers and applause rippled around the room.
‘But seriously, we’re going to miss your cheerful presence over the next few months, and we’ll especially miss your colourful and extensive vocabulary of … er, adjectives.’
‘Fucking right,’ someone piped up from the rear.
‘But we won’t miss your tendency to obliterate any supplies of chocolate biscuits, and that you never put the lid back properly on the Milo tin in the kitchen.’
‘You can’t prove that was me,’ I said, hands raised.
‘I believe there is video evidence. But anyhoo, Sam Shephard, all the best for the future and do make sure you bring that baby in to visit.’
‘Here heres’ and ‘absolutelys’ sounded from around the room, promptly followed by a growing clamour of ‘Speech, speech.’
The warmth and affection radiating from the sea of grinning faces started to tip my funk on its head. It felt good to be appreciated and acknowledged.
‘Well, you know, I’m a girl of few words,’ I said. There was a snort from the man to my left. ‘So I will keep this short.’
‘Just like you,’ someone heckled from the back. Otto would pay for that later.
‘Thank you to Laurie – I presume it was you – for organising all this.’ Laurie was the queen of making sure little events like this happened, thank heavens, because someone had to think to punctuate the grim, day-to-day reality with flashes of joy and fun. She was our social glue. Her curtsey was very endearing.
‘And I hope, looking at the morning-tea spread, that Miranda has baked her world-famous ginger crunch.’
There was a whoop and a double thumbs-up from the side.
‘Thank God for that. I bags first dibs.’
I turned to Paul then. He was standing there looking serious. ‘It takes two to tango, so I’d like to thank Paul for taking the police directive to find new recruits so personally that he decided to breed the next generation. That’s dedication for you.’ I was relieved to see it elicited a smile.
‘Oh, the pleasure was all mine,’ he said, to some ‘whoars’ and lewd comments around the room.
‘And before I get all sentimental, and you know I will’ – Sonia held up the preparatory box of tissues – ‘I just want to say I have loved working with you all.’ Which I hand on heart could, because The Boss was conspicuously absent. ‘And before you know it I’ll be back annoying the shit out of you all again. Please, dig in.’
They didn’t need any encouraging and descended upon the table like the eighth plague. I could see a number of people take the grab-and-run approach. There was a lot going on and I appreciated all of them for taking the time, however brief.
I turned to Laurie again and took her by the arm.
‘Thanks so much for this,’ I said. ‘It really means a lot.’
‘I know, hon, and it’s my pleasure.’ And she did know. From day one she’d been witness to my struggles to be welcomed by some noted, and unfortunately senior, people in this place, and that my grudging acceptance had been hard-earned, despite the best efforts of the powers that be.
‘Come on and open up some of your pressies.’
She manoeuvred me over towards the pile of gifts. Who didn’t love pressies?
‘You didn’t have to,’ I said, ‘but I’m glad you did.’
‘You haven’t seen them yet,’ she said, and gave me a wink.
CHAPTER 59
Bubs was showing her appreciation of the excessive quantity of ginger crunch and cake I had consumed by drumming on my stomach with her feet. Well, that’s what it felt like. In turn, my stomach was showing its appreciation with some volcanic-grade heartburn.
My smart watch started vibrating merrily, so I reached into my pocket for the phone to see who was calling.
‘Hi, Naomi,’ I said as I ambled around the room, trying to walk off the heartburn and give Bubs a bit more space.
‘Hi, Sam. How are you going?’
‘Pretty good, actually. Last day at work, and they just sprung me a surprise farewell morning tea.’
‘Nice, that was good of them. I hope there was cake.’
‘Oh yes, “was” being the operative word, and I’m paying for it now.’
‘Haha, I did warn you about the indigestion. Did they give you presents?’
‘Yes, I’m sure the industrial-sized bag of ear plugs is going to come in handy, but I’m not so sure about the poo-scented candle.’
‘Trolling you.’
‘I reckon, but the wee baby onesie with “Just done nine months inside, my parents are now serving life” was intolerably cute.’
‘And apt.’
‘Oh, yes, they looked pleased with themselves for that one. Look, I want to say thank you again for how much you’ve helped me out with this case. And I know you’ve had your reservations.’
‘That’s okay, if it helps solve it, then it’s a good thing. Hey, the reason I’m ringing is I need to bring next week’s appointment forward. I’ve got another patient who is going to be induced on Monday, so that’s going to take up my time. Is there any chance I can catch you for that check-up later today?’
It was a hazard of the job, the unpredictability of women and babies. Pity the little blighters didn’t come with a fixed timetable. I fervently hoped this little one decided to make her appearance at a civilised time of the day and without any need for intervention.
‘I’m finishing at 3.00pm, so could make 3.30pm, if that works?’
‘I’m seeing someone else then, but they live up your way. How about 4.00pm at yours?’
‘Yeah, works for me.’
‘Great, I’ll see you later, then.’
I walked another lap around the room, but by this time the effects of the colossal cup of tea I drank with the cake were making themselves known, so I veered off out in the direction of the loo.
At least the change of appointment would give me some company to look forward to after work.
With Maggie now gone and Paul due late I wasn’t looking forward to going home to an empty house.
CHAPTER 60
It was amazing how slowly the clock could go when you were watching it. It was like it did it on purpose. The last reports and paperwork I’d needed to tidy up were done, I’d returned the sundry plates and teaspoons that had accumulated on my desk to the kitchen, set the dishwasher and washed those random bits in the sink. Hell, I’d even resorted to cleaning out the fridge to make the afternoon go by. There were all sorts of alien lifeforms growing in there – the ghosts of lunches past, including one Tupperware container that was so green and bulging that I sacrificed the whole damn thing to the bin. At least now the fridge smelt a bit more appealing and the contents weren’t a biohazard.
With half an hour to go I finally found the heart to drag the cardboard carton from under my desk and start filling it with the things that were about to have a six-month hiatus at our house.
This was not how I imagined my last day would be.
My romantic self had thought it would be all ta-tas, kissies and fond farewells as I waltzed out the front door. Granted, there had been a little of that this morning, but since then, it had been pretty much just me, staring at the clock. It was starting to look more and more like I’d be sneaking out the back door, but without the grin.
