Chapter 30

THIRTY

The walls of the crematorium waiting room were a pale mint, the carpet a hard-wearing dark blue. Designed to seat early arrivals to the crematorium, there were only ten chairs around the walls. Joanna waited for the officer in charge of Freddie to sit him down on one seat, then turn so his back was to them, giving the illusion of privacy. Over his shoulder, he spoke to Joanna. ‘I'm sorry, but we can't be too long. We need to get him back.'

‘That's fine.' Her voice was pure ice. ‘I don't have a lot to say.'

For the last two weeks, she'd hated this man with a vehemence she didn't know she had in her. In her imagination, he'd become a dark presence, almost a cartoon villain. In front of her now, he looked like a frightened little boy. His clothes were hanging from him. The thick-chested tanned prison guard behind him like an enlarged shadow. The good looks that had attracted Charlotte had been ravaged by fear and grief. In other circumstances, she might've had some sympathy. But not today.

He swallowed, ran the hand that wasn't in cuffs over his face. ‘How's the baby?'

She hadn't expected him to start there and it wrong-footed her for a moment. ‘She's good. Doing well. Getting stronger.' Then she remembered herself. ‘I'm not here to update you on the baby. What did you want to speak to me about?'

The crease at the top of his nose deepened as he looked at her, his bottom lip trembled and she could see him struggling to gain control of his voice. ‘I wanted to ask about Charlotte. Did she…was she in pain? In the hospital. Did she suffer?'

His eyes searched hers and, just for a moment, she wanted to torture him with lies. But she couldn't bring herself to even think about Charlotte in pain. ‘They don't think so. She didn't regain consciousness.'

His face twitched; it looked as if he was fighting tears. ‘I still can't believe she's gone. She was so wonderful. I loved her with everything I had. She was just…perfect.'

Joanna's whole body stiffened; her hands closed into fists. This boy didn't deserve to kiss her daughter's feet, let alone love her. What was he trying to gain by talking to her like this? Was he misguided enough to think that she might feel sorry for him? ‘Why did you do it, Freddie? Why did you hurt her?'

Between their chairs, a small table held leaflets about bereavement and counselling. Freddie clutched its edge like a life raft, his face a grimace of agony. ‘It wasn't me, Joanna. I would never hurt her. Charlotte was my life. She was everything.'

His words just made her more angry. How dare he say he loved her? What about the bruises on her arms? You don't hit the people you love. ‘You can stop lying. It was you. The police have the evidence. It was only you and Charlotte in that flat. There was no one else.'

His face darkened. ‘There must've been someone else.'

There it was, the cloud of jealousy. That was motive, surely? ‘Are you telling me that Charlotte was seeing someone else? Is that what happened? Was it Dominic? Your friend? And that's why you were angry at her?'

Surprise or shock glanced across his face. ‘Dominic? No. No! Charlotte wasn't doing anything with Dominic. She didn't even like him that much. Why would someone like Charlotte even look at him? Even I knew that she was way out of my league. I couldn't believe how lucky I was that she wanted to be with me.'

His face was so open, so honest, it would be easy to believe him. But protestations of innocence weren't enough. ‘So, if not Dominic, who was the someone else? Why were you so jealous of him?'

He shook his head. ‘I wasn't jealous. Charlotte never gave me reason to be. I knew for sure she'd never cheat on me. She was the most honest person I've ever met. You must know that.'

She did know that. Her honesty was brutal at times. Even as a child, she wouldn't think twice about telling Joanna if her outfit was wrong or she'd made a mistake. Steve would laugh at her, choosing to find it endearing. More tactful as she'd grown up, she would still be the person to go to if you wanted a really honest opinion. ‘If it wasn't jealousy. What was it? Was it the pregnancy? Were you angry about that?'

Turning slightly to glance sideways at the back of the guard behind him, he lowered his voice to a fierce whisper. ‘I was overjoyed that she was pregnant. It was the best thing that could've happened to us. I wanted to run around telling everyone. I loved her so much and she was going to make the best mum ever.'

His teeth clamped together and she could see he was struggling to gain control of himself. He wanted to run around and tell everyone? ‘If that was true and you were both so happy, why didn't she tell me she was pregnant?'

Her voice wobbled. It hurt so much that Charlotte had kept this from her. Her own mother. Though she knew she had a big part of the blame for making it clear how she felt about Freddie, surely her daughter knew that she would support her, love her child?

Freddie hung his head. ‘She wanted to tell you, but she wanted to be sure first. She didn't want to hurt you.'

‘Sure about what?'

‘She wanted to get to the twenty-week scan. She didn't want to risk telling you and then…'

‘Losing the baby?'

He nodded, looked at her from under his eyelashes. If he was play-acting the bereaved partner, he was doing a pretty convincing job. ‘She said you'd had enough pain. Losing her dad. She said she didn't want to put you through it if it didn't work out. Once we'd had that scan, she kept putting it off. She wanted things to be—' he paused ‘—better between you and me. And then you had that argument and she was so cross. She said she wasn't going to tell you about the baby until you accepted me and then…'

As he trailed off from saying the awful truth, Joanna closed her eyes. All she could see was the face of her beautiful girl. Charlotte hadn't told her about the pregnancy to protect her. To shield her from pain. Just as her dad had looked after her, she'd taken on the role. When all the time it was Charlotte who'd needed protecting. Fresh anger rose in her like lava. ‘How could you hurt the mother of your child?'

‘I didn't!' His raised voice brought the attention of the guard and he held up his hand to show he'd quieten down. He returned to Joanna. ‘I didn't. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I know you don't like me. I know you don't trust me. But you have to believe that I'd never hurt your daughter. Or mine.'

Over the last year, she'd made Freddie into a villain. The boy who'd broken her daughter's heart in the worst year of their lives. But now, sitting across from him, that's not the man she saw. Her head ached and she rubbed at her temples. ‘Okay. Let's say I believe you. If it wasn't you, then who was it?'

His open face closed like a slammed door. ‘I don't know.'

The way he shut down so quickly was like a slap. How dare he beg her to believe him then react like that? ‘You're lying.'

He shook his head but didn't meet her eyes. ‘I'm not. I don't know how I'm going to prove it to you, but I'm not. When I got to the apartment, she was already on the floor. I called the ambulance. I tried to save her. I tried so hard.'

Tears sprang to his eyes and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. The guard outside rapped with his knuckles on the glass window in the door. His colleague behind Freddie, rose and shook his wrist that was shackled to Freddie. ‘I'm afraid we need to go now.'

Freddie stayed where he was but leaned forwards as if in prayer. ‘Please, Joanna. You have to believe me. I didn't hurt Charlotte. And I'm going to get through this and raise our baby and make sure she has everything she needs.'

The guard's voice was deep but kind. ‘Come on now, lad. Let's go and leave the lady in peace.'

Fear clutched at Joanna's throat. He thought he was going to raise the baby? ‘You won't be able to raise her. You'll be in prison.'

Freddie got to his feet. ‘My solicitor says that the evidence is flimsy. I've got a good chance of being out soon. I didn't do it, Joanna.'

Surely this wasn't true? She couldn't bear it. ‘I don't want you anywhere near that child. You've taken my daughter from me. You're not going to take her baby, too.'

It only took three steps for the guard and Freddie to make it to the door, where the other guard held it open, then reattached himself to Freddie's other wrist. While he did so, Freddie looked back at Joanna over his shoulder. ‘She's our baby. Mine and Charlotte's. And her name is Eliza. Charlotte wanted to call her Eliza if she was a girl. Like the film. She made me watch it with her.'

The door closed with a bang and Joanna sank back into the chair. Eliza. Like the film. Of course. My Fair Lady . The film she used to watch with her when she was home ill from school. Their comfort film.

In the silence of the room, Freddie's words hung like icicles. I didn't do it. She's our baby. I loved her. There's someone else.

Through the glass in the door, she saw Freddie say goodbye to his mother, his shoulders moving in time with his sobs. Annabelle's face was different than she'd ever seen it. Not the entitled mean girl from decades ago. Not even the supremely confident woman she'd seen arguing for her right to see the baby. No. She looked like a mother whose heart was breaking for her son.

All of her certainty about Freddie's guilt began to show cracks of doubt. What was true? He looked so devastated about Charlotte's death. When he said he loved her, he was so fervent, so bereft. Was he telling the truth that he hadn't been the one to hurt her? The police were certainly not able to come up with anything conclusive. Could he be innocent? And if he was, who was this ‘someone else' who he said was to blame?