Expectant, p.22
Expectant, page 22
I started on the 3D puzzle that was fitting everything into the box.
Two ponytail palms – the only office plants I hadn’t managed to kill.
Favourite novelty mug, a gift from Maggie: Don’t flatter yourself. I only look up to you because I’m short. It was one I strategically tried to be holding whenever The Boss was in the room. I don’t think he got the message though. I felt a pang of sadness at the thought of Maggie. The house felt so weird without her.
I paused for a moment and breathed through another round of Braxton Hicks.
Proper Dilmah tea bags, because the crap that was provided by work wasn’t fit for human consumption.
A packet of ten green-tea bags that Mum had given me because she thought they would be healthier for me. Unopened.
The pile of snacks that hadn’t yet been consumed, which included most of a bag of Whittaker’s mini chocolate bars, some muesli bars and a half-consumed packet of crackers. On second thoughts I binned the crackers, grabbed the chocolate, and walked over to Sonia’s desk to pull open her top drawer and pop them inside. A donation to her cause.
But as I did so, I heard voices coming down the hallway – very animated voices. I shut the drawer and scuttled back to my desk, feeling oddly guilty that I’d almost been caught in the act.
‘We’ll have to pick up a car.’ Smithy walked into the room, closely followed by Paul. They both went straight to the cupboard where we stored everyone’s BAS vests and started grabbing them.
‘What’s happened?’ I asked.
‘Well, hate to say it, Sam’ – whatever it was he was about to say, Smithy didn’t look like he hated it, quite the opposite – ‘but you were right. We got the call through from tech. Your woman logged in and had a look through your files, went straight to the amniocentesis test results.’
‘Miriam Hardcastle?’
‘Yes, indeed.’
I looked to Paul, who nodded, ‘Yes. She took the bait.’
I felt immensely relieved, but equally saddened and horrified that Aleisha Newman looked to have been killed by someone as trusted as her midwife. And I didn’t care what the circumstances were.
‘You’re off to pick her up? Bring her in for questioning?’
‘Yes.’
Sonia appeared in the room, puffing slightly from her rush. ‘I got the message. When are we off?’ She went digging in the cupboard and pulled out her vest. It looked half the size of the men’s ones. I felt a tinge of envy that she was getting to go along for the ride, but it made sense they had ensured there was a woman officer present. That should have been me, but with only thirteen minutes left on the job…
‘Right. Good work, Sam. We’ll see you soon,’ Smithy said.
‘Well, actually, no.’ I pointed to the clock and shrugged.
‘Oh yeah, that’s right. Okay, then.’ He came over and gave me a hurried, awkward hug. ‘All the best,’ he said before heading out the door.
Sonia gave me a less awkward hug – ‘Don’t be a stranger. I’ll miss you’ – before she followed suit.
Finally Paul stepped up and gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead. ‘Well done. Don’t party too hard without me and I’ll see you tonight.’
And with that the room was empty, again. Just me and my cardboard box.
I worked hard to swallow the lump in my throat.
‘Well, okay then,’ I said in their wake. ‘I’ll see ya later.’
CHAPTER 61
I don’t think I’d ever been so pleased to hear a car pull into the driveway, so much so I had to go out and play welcoming committee. After my anticlimactic exit from work you’d think I was craving company or something. I admonished myself for being quite so pathetic.
‘Naomi, it’s good to see you.’
‘Good to see you too. You’re looking very expectant there.’ She stood next to the car door and indicated my little Honda in front. ‘It’s okay for me to park here? I won’t be in Paul’s way?’
‘There’s just fine. That’s my little car. He won’t be home for a while yet.’
Torie had come out to greet her too and was busy giving the front tyre a chinny-winny.
She grabbed her bag from the back seat and followed me into the house.
‘Did you want a cup of tea?’ I offered.
‘Thanks, but no. I’m squeezing in one more client after you so I’d better not be too long.’ She popped her bag onto the dining-room table and we both took a seat.
‘How are things going on the case, now? Any progress that you’re able to tell me about?’
That wasn’t something I was in a position to disclose to her, but knowing she now had a specific interest after helping us out, I thought the best way to respond and not appear rude or ungrateful was to massage the truth.
‘Nothing while I was still there, but I’m done and dusted now. Elvis has left the building.’
‘That must feel a bit strange with so much going on.’
‘You got that right. But things change, and I guess I’ve got a big and important new case coming up.’
She smiled and indicated for me to put my arm out to measure my blood pressure. No matter how many times you had it taken, that pressure from the cuff being inflated never got any more comfortable. I felt the bliss of release, but it was short-lived as she pumped it back up again, further this time, threatening to explode my arm before finally releasing it down.
‘Hm,’ she said, ‘your blood pressure is a bit elevated today. It’s higher than I’d like. How are you feeling overall? Haven’t had any headaches?’
‘No, feeling pretty good.’
‘How about your feet: any swelling, shoes feeling a bit tight? Do you mind if I have a look?’
I’d ditched the shoes as soon as I’d got home, they weren’t as comfortable as they used to be. I obliged by sticking my bare foot out from under the table.
‘Your ankles look a bit puffy, but not hugely so.’ I took her word for it. ‘I like the nails by the way.’ They were looking quite tidy for me, in a fetching shade of pastel blue.
‘I had to get Paul to paint them because I can’t quite reach that far anymore.’ He’d enjoyed that task a little too much if you asked me. He was quite fond of feet.
Naomi laughed. ‘You’re not the first woman who’s had to rope in some help. And you’re still feeling plenty of movement from baby?’
‘Yes, although, surely she must be running out of room in there.’
‘It will be getting a bit tight. Now, I’ve talked with you about pre-eclampsia in the past, and you’re at the business end of things where we do need to keep an eye out. So considering your blood pressure is a bit high, if you don’t mind I’d like to take a blood and a urine test, just to be sure.’
There was no way I was going to be able to squeeze out a drop of pee. Like most women expecting a guest, I’d made sure I’d gone to the loo first. Not a smart move in retrospect.
‘I can do the bloods now for you if you like so you don’t have to go out again down to the lab.’
It was handy that she had that skill – she’d taken my bloods earlier in the pregnancy when I’d been due the scheduled ones. Now my shoes were off, I wasn’t feeling inclined to go anywhere. Unless, of course, Paul suggested going out to Good Good for a burger or something for dinner. That was a different proposition entirely.
I watched as she popped the colourful tourniquet band around my upper arm, but then as usual turned my head away to examine anything else but what was happening with the needle. This time it was some wax-eyes making the most of the kōwhai flowers in the tree out the window. It was funny that I could handle the sight of someone else’s blood, and any level of gore, but seeing my own red stuff being removed – nope.
‘Little scratch,’ she said, and I winced slightly as the needle slid in.
After a few moments a buzzing sensation started in my head and the edges of my vision began to tunnel in. That wasn’t right, I thought as my body started to feel oddly heavy.
Oh, shit.
I swung my head around to see Naomi’s mouth forming the words ‘I’m sorry,’ the sound not reaching through the noise of the bees that now swarming through my brain.
Fuck.
I’d made a huge mistake.
CHAPTER 62
The sound of crashing waves dragged me from what had been a dark and warped sleep. A sleep filled with a swirling blackness, a maelstrom of darkness that solidified and melted into the writhing forms of wraiths and amorphous beings – beings that shrieked and groaned. I was suddenly aware of the prickle of rough carpet under my cheek, the ache in my hips and building pressure in the small of my back. The pressure transforming into a wave that spread around to the front of my belly, gripping like period pains, but period pains on steroids. I realised the groans were coming from me.
My eyes flew open.
‘Naomi,’ I said out loud as the memory of those last moments of consciousness came flooding back.
Where the hell was I? The wave of pain was starting to ebb, so I hauled myself up onto one elbow. That wave was promptly replaced by a wave of nausea, and before I could even attempt to counter it, I vomited onto the floor.
I flopped back down and tried to take in my surroundings.
The room was dark, and chill, although the goosebumps that spread across my body weren’t entirely from the cold. The only light crept in from under a wide door to the front and a smaller door to the side. As my eyes adjusted I could start to make out details – boxes, shelves … A tang of petrol and cut grass overlay an overall mustiness and dampness. I could make out the shape of a window, but it had been covered over. Apart from the square of carpet where I lay, the floor appeared to be concrete. It was a small garage – and it would have struggled to fit even my car.
The crook of my other arm was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. I flexed the elbow, but that didn’t relieve the situation. My eyes took in the cannula stuck in my arm, followed the plastic tubing up to an almost empty IV bag hanging from a makeshift stand.
What the fuck?
Nope.
I didn’t care what that was, I wanted it out now. I didn’t want a bar of it. Jesus, what if it was something to induce the baby? No matter what the hell happened, there was no fucking way she was going to get her hands on my child.
I pushed myself up to a sitting position, rode out the rush of giddiness and nausea, and set to unlocking the tubing from the end of the port. At least I knew there was nothing going into me now. But that wasn’t enough. I started pulling back the tape holding the cannula in place, then once it was freed, took a deep breath and yanked the whole damn thing out of my vein and threw it across the room. Blood immediately started seeping from the site, so I pressed down on it hard, trying to stem the flow.
How could I have gotten it so wrong? When my mind had explored the idea of health professionals, and then narrowed it down to midwives, it had never even occurred to me to consider Naomi. I trusted her. How could I have been so bloody naive? How did I miss the signs?
My mind tried to replay our conversations over the last six months, trying to recall anything that could have set me on the right path, if I’d only noticed. I had vague recollections of her talking about her daughter, that she’d been quite unwell, but I had thought she meant in a here-and-now, acute sense, rather than a long-term sense, and I certainly hadn’t thought it was critical.
How long had I been here?
I checked my watch, its bright display pushing back against the gloom. Fuck, it was after nine. I’d been out for that long? That would explain why I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. Surely Paul would know something was wrong by now? He must have tried to ring. I patted my pants pocket for my phone. Of course it wasn’t there, that would have been the first thing she took off me.
Bugger.
There had to be a way out of here. I rolled myself onto my hands and knees, and slowly got up to my feet. I made my way to the side door, skirting around the lawn mower, my bare feet protesting against the cold, hard concrete floor. My hand gripped the door handle and turned it.
Locked.
Fuck.
I moved further down to the end of the garage. The double doors were of the old, wooden variety, giving a hint as to the vintage of the building. They sagged on their hinges and didn’t look exactly square, so it was no surprise when I tugged at them that they didn’t budge.
I was a prisoner.
Holy fuck.
CHAPTER 63
My wrist vibrated with an incoming call. The shock of it jarred me like a startled baby. Once I got control back of my limbs, I checked to see who it was.
Thank Christ, it was Paul.
Naomi might have removed my phone from my pocket, but she hadn’t thought about my smart watch. Also, she can’t have thought to power off the phone, because to be able to connect up it had to be on and somewhere close. I was in a garage, so there had to be a house nearby. This could be my only chance, I had to answer that call. I’d never done it from my watch before so was a mess of fumbling fingers as I desperately tried to hit the little green phone symbol without accidentally hanging up.
‘Paul?’
‘Where are you?’ he asked. The sound was really crackly, but even with that I could hear the anxiety in his voice. That was the last thing I needed to hear right now. I needed calm Paul. I needed solid Paul. I did not need edging-on-being-freaked-out Paul.
My own panic levels leapt accordingly.
‘Are you okay? Is the baby okay?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said.
‘What do you mean you don’t know?’
‘I mean I think I’m okay and the baby’s okay, but I have no idea where I am. Last thing I remember was being at home with Naomi while she did our ante-natal check. She did all the usuals then said she was going to take some bloods, so I guess she injected something in rather than drawing blood out, because next thing I knew I woke up here.’ My voice cracked a little. ‘And I have no idea where here is.’
‘You didn’t notice her inject you with something?’
‘Well fuck, just blame the victim, I wasn’t exactly looking at the time. Unlike you, I don’t always like to watch needles being stuck in me, sorry.’
‘Sorry,’ Paul said. ‘I’m just thinking out loud, trying to get my head around this.’ I knew he was, but I couldn’t help the panic snappies.
‘It wasn’t Miriam. I was wrong.’ My voice choked up as I made that admission. It wasn’t that often that I was wrong, but in the past the ramifications hadn’t been this monumental.
‘Hey, look, all of the evidence pointed to her, none of us even remotely suspected Naomi. Don’t beat yourself up. You’ve got to think, okay. Stay with me now.’
‘Okay.’
‘Describe where you are.’
‘I’m in an old garage, like almost-falling-over old. It’s small, the only window is high and has bars on it.’ I lumbered up from where I’d been sitting in the far corner, facing the door and moved around the space, talking as I went. ‘The doors are locked. I’m locked in.’
‘Fuck,’ he said. ‘What kind of doors?’
‘Solid wooden ones, no windows.’
‘Did you bang on it, see if anyone came?’
I had considered it, and almost did try the ole hammer-and-scream combo, but given I’d been brought here drugged out of my tree, it didn’t feel like the wise thing to do. ‘I’ve been trying not to draw attention to myself.’
‘Yeah, probably a good call. Is there any way you can barricade yourself in from that side? Keep her out? You can’t let her get near you, Sam. You can’t let her get near you or the baby.’
‘I know.’ My hands dropped down and cradled my belly and its precious cargo.
I’d had a good scout around earlier, using the light from my watch to illuminate the way. The shelving was all fixed to the walls, but some cupboards were free standing and looked like they had been recycled from an old kitchen. There were a number of cardboard boxes, as well as drop sheets and an array of old paint cans. An unseaworthy wooden dingy leaned against the back wall, but I didn’t know if I could drag that. There was the lawn mower; that could be tipped on its side and wedged with some of the generalised crap in here. I could go for the friction and bulk approach in the absence of weight.
‘I’ll give it a try.’
‘Anything else that can narrow down where you are? What can you hear?’
‘I can hear the sea. Quite loud, like crashing waves. I haven’t heard any cars.’
‘Great, the sea narrows it down. I know this line is pretty dodgy, which means your signal isn’t great, so you’re probably somewhere remote. Listen, I want you to try something. I’ve got an idea to figure out where you are.’
Hell, I’d try anything right now.
‘Yeah, fire away?’
‘I want you to go to the Google Maps app on your phone and see if it comes up with the magic blue dot with your location.’
‘I’m not on the phone – she took it. I’m using my watch.’
‘Okay, that makes sense. Your watch should have the app too.’
Jesus, of course, why hadn’t I thought of that? Just then a dragging wave of pain burned across my belly. I breathed out long and hard, hoping like hell that it was just Braxton Hicks, and that Bubs had not decided that this was the opportune moment to make an early entrance into the world. Given the presence of the IV line, and the circumstances, it was a pretty deluded hope. This baby had to hold off until help arrived.
‘You okay?’
‘Yeah,’ I lied. ‘Just trying to get comfortable. Give me a moment.’ I looked at the display on the watch and tried swiping to another app. Nothing happened. I realised the only way to check was to end the call.
‘Fuck.’
‘Fuck?’
‘Fuck. Nothing, can’t do that without ending the call, and given how dodgy this line is, I don’t want to risk that.’ The sense of deflation was almost overwhelming. I leaned back against the wall and slid down to a sitting position. He must have heard it in my voice.
