Chapter 11

ELEVEN

When Joanna told her who Freddie's mother was, Sally made a huge exaggerated O with her mouth just as she might've done when they were fourteen. ‘You're kidding! Annabelle Miles? From the private school? Are you sure?'

Joanna nodded. ‘Completely sure. I just can't believe what a horrible coincidence it is.'

From the moment she started at Brent Hall school, Joanna hadn't fit in.

It wouldn't have been easy to start any school in the fourth year. But being transferred from a state school, once her father was making enough to be able to afford the fees, had been cripplingly difficult. Though her parents now had a very comfortable life due to the success of her father's law practice, she was a minnow in the big pond of wealth at the private boarding school in Suffolk.

Joanna hadn't boarded. Instead, her mother would drive her over an hour to school every day. A sacrifice she said that she was willing to make ‘so that you meet the right kind of people'.

Whether they were ‘right' or not, the students she met there seemed in no doubt that she was wrong. Whether it was her estuary English accent, the car her mother drove or the fact that she was quickly outed as a ‘state schooler', she was made to feel that she didn't belong.

Beautiful Annabelle Miles, on the other hand, most definitely did belong. Coated with the confidence of wealth, she and her entourage would sweep around the school as if they were the ones in charge.

Now Sally was shaking her head in amazement. ‘I can't believe it's her. All this time and you never knew. Was it horrible talking to her?'

‘Yes. It was pretty unpleasant.' The moment she'd recognised her, Joanna had felt sucked back into the feelings of shame and isolation that had dogged most of her time at the school. From the beginning, Annabelle Miles had made her life hell. Whispering behind her hand about her in class, louder in the corridors. No one wanted to be friends with Joanna knowing that they would also be putting themselves in the Annabelle firing line.

She'd never known loneliness like it. At the local comprehensive she'd come from, she'd got on with everyone. And she'd had Sally there. Maybe the only thing that got her through the move to the private school was having Sally to unload on each night. Her parents hadn't wanted to listen. They'd been so adamant that Brent Hall was the right place for her.

Sally screwed up her face. ‘I can remember you telling me what she was like. How awful she was when you started dating Jacob.'

The bullying had stepped up a notch then. Jacob was one of the boys in their year and, when he'd started to pay her attention, Annabelle had done everything she could to keep them apart. When they'd started going out, Jacob had defended her, been her protector. For a while, things had got better for her at school. Until everything had got much much worse.

Sally had brought two coffees with her and, after kissing Charlotte very gently, she settled herself next to the bed and took the lid off to blow on the scalding liquid. ‘Did she recognise you?'

For a horrible moment, it had seemed that she might and that was the last thing Joanna needed. ‘I think I got away with it. It was horrible, though. Speaking to her just reminded me what she was like. What they were all like. It reminded me why I didn't want Charlotte mixing with Freddie. People like that, they think they're different from us. They can't be trusted.'

Sally frowned into her coffee. ‘To be fair, you don't really know what she's like now. You were both kids back then. People change. What did she seem like?'

Joanna hated having to admit that she'd been very kind. ‘She was fine. And she did tell me to call her if I needed anything. But she was so adamant that Freddie couldn't have hurt Joanna.'

Sally shrugged. ‘Well, he is her son. I suppose we're all protective of our children.'

It was understandable that Sally would say that. Her Harry had had his fair share of unpleasantness from other people over the years. People who had clearly judged his behaviour as if he was a naughty boy rather than a child with autism trying to make sense of his world. ‘I know, but how can you defend someone who has done this? She tried to tell me that she thought the world of Charlotte, but you can't say that and then let him get away with what he's done.'

Sally kept her voice gentle. ‘We don't know the facts yet, Jo.'

She sounded like Steve. Whenever she'd gone off on a rant about something or someone, he'd tried to make her think about the other side of the argument. But when your child was lying hurt, there was no other side. She could hear her voice rising, feel the panic taking over. ‘I know it's him, Sally. From the moment I knew that they were together, I knew this was going to end badly. Why didn't I stop it? This is all my fault.'

Sally reached out for her hand. ‘This is not your fault. Charlotte's twenty-two. She's an adult. You can't tell her what to do. You just have to hope she makes good choices and then be there to mop up the consequences when she doesn't.'

Again, she sounded like Steve. How many times had she accused the two of them of being siblings from different mothers? Her best friend and her husband seemed to view the world through rose-coloured spectacles. They didn't know what it was like to be on the outside looking in like she did. They'd never had the rug of life pulled out from beneath their feet and had to fight to stay balanced.

‘Annabelle tried to say that the police are just talking to Freddie, but I know that it's more than that. He's the only other person who was there. I'm not just being horrible here, Sally. I'm not being prejudiced. He hurt my baby.'

As she collapsed into tears again, Sally's face softened. ‘I know you're not being horrible. But let's focus on getting our girl better and let the police do their job with the other part.'

Joanna nodded, but deep down she was certain that Freddie had done this. The only thing she didn't know was why. Particularly if Charlotte was carrying his child. When Charlotte regained consciousness, she was going to make sure that she and the baby had nothing to do with that family ever again.

She couldn't help but wonder what she'd said about him to Sally. ‘Did Charlotte talk about Freddie a lot when she was with you?'

Head tilted, Sally considered the question. ‘I suppose she did. I mean, we had our monthly lunch date. And she called a few times, too. Just chatting about what they'd been up to and the things she was doing to the flat. She wanted my advice on places to go for the furnishings. She wanted something different. Not like everyone else.'

As she was a designer, it made sense for Charlotte to talk to Sally about those things, but Joanna couldn't help but feel jealous. ‘And she talked about him? About Freddie?'

One of the things she loved about her best friend was how frank she was. It was also one of the things she found most difficult. The eyebrow she raised spoke volumes. ‘I guess she just wanted me to know that he was a good guy.'

Sally was being soft on her because of the situation, but the implication was clear. Charlotte hadn't wanted Sally's opinion of Freddie to be coloured by anything that Joanna might've said about him. ‘Did you meet him?'

‘Only once. He came to collect her from a lunch a couple of months ago. He was a bit early and we hadn't finished our coffee, so he joined us for a little while.'

That sounded very controlling of him. Charlotte would've been quite capable of making her own way home. And arriving early? ‘What was he like?'

Sally smiled. ‘Clearly infatuated with Charlotte. So careful when he helped her on with her coat and holding on to her hand. Of course, now we know that she was pregnant at the time, I suppose it makes sense.'

The reminder that Charlotte had been pregnant for weeks – months – without telling her heaped more blame on her head. She'd told Freddie's mother she was going to be a grandmother, but not her. Joanna had promised Steve that she would look after Charlotte, but she'd pushed her away to the extent that she hadn't even shared the most life-changing thing that had ever happened to her.

Joanna's phone was on charge on the bedside table and it moved across the top as it buzzed. She steeled herself for another call from the bank, but it wasn't a number that she recognised.

‘Mrs Woodley?'

‘Yes. Speaking.'

‘It's DC Abbie Lineham. I was wondering if I could arrange to come and see you tomorrow to talk further about your daughter?'

She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. ‘Yes. I'll be at the hospital with Charlotte. Can you come to talk to me here?'

‘Of course. Is about tena.m. okay?'

‘Yes. Do you have any news for me? Has Freddie been charged?'

‘No one has been charged at present. I'll explain everything when I see you tomorrow. I know that we've already spoken briefly, but if there's anything else you remember that might be relevant, please do let me know.'

Once the call was ended, she took Charlotte's hand before speaking to Sally. ‘The police are coming to speak to me again tomorrow. I think they've got news. And they want to know if there's anything else we need to tell them about her and Freddie.'

Though Sally had brought her enough clothes for the next few days, the matron in charge of Charlotte's ward wouldn't countenance her staying in her room another night. Insisting that it had been a very special dispensation to let her stay there the first night, she sent her home around nine o'clock. ‘If there is any change at all, we will call you immediately.'

Joanna didn't want to let go of Charlotte's hand. She thought of the young nurse leaving her son for the first time. It didn't matter how old they were, it was never easy to leave. ‘Will someone be watching her? All the time?'

‘Yes. I'll be here with her.' Another nurse she hadn't seen before stepped forwards and raised her hand.

‘And you've got my number?'

Sally took her elbow. ‘Come on, Jo. Let's go home and get some sleep and then we can come back first thing in the morning.'

After kissing Charlotte gently on the cheek, she allowed herself to be led away, leaving part of herself behind. It was a good job that Sally was there to drive her home because she'd come in a police car the night before. How had that only been yesterday?

On the way out of the ward, Sally's phone rang in the pocket of her jeans. She slipped it out, frowned at the display, then cancelled the call. ‘Sorry. I forgot to put it on silent. It was just Graham.'

‘You can take the call if you want.'

Sally never ignored her phone if she was away from Harry. So Joanna was surprised when she shook her head. ‘No, it's fine. I don't need to talk to him.'

There was something in her tone that made an alarm bell ring. ‘Is everything okay? I know you said you were going through some stuff, but it's nothing to do with Graham, is it?'

Though she'd asked the question, Joanna didn't think for a second it would be. Sally and Graham were solid. Their marriage second only to her own in how committed they were.

But Sally wasn't shaking her head emphatically, or telling her to ‘behave yourself, we're fine'. Instead, she was chewing on her lip and looking shifty. ‘It's nothing. Just a silly argument.'

It didn't look like a silly argument from her face. ‘Then you need to talk to him. Don't leave it, Sally.'

It was only a few days ago that Sally had urged Joanna to speak to Charlotte and make things right, so the weight of that statement wasn't lost on her.

She sighed. ‘I will. I just need some space. It'll be fine. And right now, there's more important things to think about. Like getting our girl to wake up and what that detective is going to tell you tomorrow.'