Where is the Baby?

Table of Contents

A Selection of Recent Titles by Charlotte Vale-Allen

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Part One: 1970

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Part Two: 1983

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Interlude: 1987

Chapter Eighteen

Part Three: May 2003

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

June 2003

Chapter Twenty-One

Acknowledgments

About the Author

CHASING RAINBOWS

DREAMING IN COLOR

CLAUDIA'S SHADOW

MOOD INDIGO

PARTING GIFTS

GRACE NOTES

FRESH AIR

SUDDEN MOVES

Non-Fiction

DADDY'S GIRL

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

First world edition published 2012

in Great Britain and in the USA by

SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.

Copyright © 2012 by Charlotte Vale-Allen.

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

Allen, Charlotte Vale, 1941-

Where is the baby?

1. Rehabilitation–Fiction. 2. Connecticut–Fiction.

I. Title

813.5'4-dc23

ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-218-4 (Epub)

ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8135-9 (cased)

ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-432-5 (trade paper)

Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

This ebook produced by

Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

For Kim & Tim and
Bodhi & Sloane
the present & the future.

This book was
inspired by
two true stories.

B
efore they went, Wolf took off the door- and window-handles while Toadman put the pill in her mouth, the way he always did, and told her to swallow it. As soon as they were gone – she listened hard until she couldn't hear their voices anymore – she spat out the pill and crushed it between her fingers, then shook the dust away. It left a bitter taste in her mouth and she found her bottle of Coca-Cola and drank some. Then she sat and waited.

After a minute or two, she noticed something. The windows were painted black on the inside, but there was a crack at the top of one window where a thin strip of light showed. She looked at that strip for a time, thinking. If she could find something to push in there, between the top of the window and the frame, she might be able to get the window open.

Down on her knees in the back of the van, she pushed through pizza boxes and empty bottles, sticky straws and old newspapers, crumpled-up take-out bags and smelly clothes, groping in the dark for anything hard and thin she could push into that slit.

Then, just when she was ready to give up, her fingers found something and, near it, another something. A plastic knife and fork. She put them over by the window and searched some more, running her hands over everything until she was at the bottom, feeling the thin, gritty carpet that covered the floor of the van – and there was nothing else. Guided by that strip of light, she moved back to the window and examined her tools.

Deciding to risk the fork first, she fit the handle end into the crack, pulled down very carefully and the crack got a bit bigger. Encouraged, she pulled down some more and the window moved a tiny bit farther before the fork snapped and the handle end fell outside. Disappointed, the bitter taste of the pill still in her mouth, she sat for a moment then tried to put one of her fingers into the slightly enlarged opening. Not big enough. She reached for the plastic knife.

Its handle was thicker than the fork's but if she broke the knife, too, she'd have nothing left to work with. So she'd have to be very careful because she was determined now to get the window open far enough for her to climb out. She put just the edge of the handle end into the opening and used both hands to pull the blade down. The opening got bigger! Not yet big enough for her fingers, but almost. She tried again, pushing the handle a little bit farther outside before pulling down gently but firmly. It worked! The opening was wider. Still not wide enough, but almost.
Almost
.

It was getting very hot. The only fresh air was coming in through the small gap at the top of the window and she got up close to it, hoping to feel cooler air. But the air outside was hot, too. She was starting to feel as if she needed to pee, and the heat was making her sleepy. If she fell asleep, she might never have another chance like this. They might come back at any second, a thought that made her heart beat faster. It had to be now. So she put the knife handle back into the opening and this time, using both hands, she pulled down as hard as she could. The knife snapped and the part she was holding cut her hand. But she'd done it! Her fingertips fit into the opening. She was going to get out! Her heart was beating even faster now, and a voice in her head was whispering, Hurry,
hurry
!

With both hands, she pulled down on the glass as hard as she could and it started moving. Her arms began to tremble from the effort and she had to rest. But now she could get her hands almost all the way out. They might be coming. She had to be quick. So, her eyes fixed on that widened band of daylight, she put her palms over the top of the window and pulled down again, and again, and again. And little by little the window lowered, until both her arms fit through.

Wolf and Toadman could be on their way back, so even though her hand was stinging from the cut and her arms were aching, she pulled on the window with all her strength. Then, resting for another moment, she looked out. Straight ahead were rows of cars, and to the left were empty parking spaces. And with a burst of excitement she saw a big store on the far right. She went back to pulling on the glass, which had become slippery with sweat and smears of blood. She wasn't sleepy anymore, but she really needed to pee. When she got to that store, she'd go find a bathroom first thing. Then she'd find someone to help her.

Moving quickly, able now to see the whole ugly interior of the van, she found a T-shirt Toadman wore all the time. He loved that T-shirt. If Wolf even touched it, Toadman had a fit. She didn't care. She grabbed it, and draped it over the top of the glass, then tried pulling on the window again. This time, the glass came down far enough for her to get her head outside. A bit more and she'd be able to crawl through. It didn't matter whether or not she could reach the outside door handle because Wolf always locked the doors and checked them before he and Toadman went anywhere. So she needed enough space to be able to climb out. Just a little bit more . . .

At last, scared they'd appear any moment, she pushed her head and shoulders through the window. Wriggling back and forth and from side to side, she was able to get more and more of herself outside. Then, suddenly, when she was slightly more than halfway out, she realized there was nothing to hold onto and she was going to fall. She couldn't stop herself. She tipped upside down. Her foot caught briefly on the top of the window and then she fell, throwing her hands out to try to break her fall. She landed on the ground. It hurt. But she was out, in a heap on the hot pavement.

Her eyes on the store, breathing hard, she stood up and began to run between the rows of cars, making her way to the wide entrance where people were coming and going. Heart thudding, her cut hand burning, both hands and knees skinned from the fall and her foot starting to hurt from catching and twisting on the window, she hurried toward the doors. The heat was awful, the sun-glare stung her eyes and she had to keep blinking because everything was shimmery and hot.

She followed a woman and her two children through the doors, at once feeling wonderful cool air as she stopped and looked around. Lots of people. Any second Wolf and Toadman would see her and . . . No! She headed away from the entrance and moved between racks of clothing, came to an aisle and looked both ways, hoping to see signs for the toilets. They'd be at either side or at the back, so she kept moving, making her way toward the far end.

Finally, struggling to hold it in, she saw a woman poking at dresses on a rack, and went up to her.

‘I need to pee.'

The woman turned slowly, her gaze moving from the top to the bottom of her in a way that made her feel bad. Then, making a face, the woman turned away.

An ache in her chest and the need getting worse and worse, she hurried on, making her way through the massive store.

At last, desperate, she approached an old woman who was holding a pair of socks in each hand and looking first at one pair, then at the other.

‘Lady, I need to pee, please.'

The old woman's head lifted. She stared for several seconds with a look that was almost as bad as the first woman's, then she suddenly dropped the socks and shuffled away, without saying a single word.

‘Shitshitshit!' The women were no help. They looked at her as if she was one of Toadman's smelly T-shirts with the horrible pictures. Arriving at the end of the aisle, she went up to a very dark man in a suit, who had a kind face, and said, ‘Mister, I
really
need to pee,
please
!'

He looked at her for what seemed a long time and then said, ‘Are you all alone?'

She nodded her head and he said, ‘Wait a second, okay?' and called out across the aisle. ‘Lillian, come on over here, would you, please?'

When Lillian came, he said, ‘Take her to the ladies' room, will you, please?' He and Lillian exchanged a look, then she smiled and said, ‘Sure. Come on, hon. I'll show you where it is.'

Lillian had bright red hair and very white skin with freckles; she smelled wonderful.

‘You smell good, Miss.' All grown-up ladies were ‘Miss.' That's what they were called on the cowboy shows Wolf liked to watch on the TV when they stayed sometimes in mow-tels.

‘Thanks, hon.' Another smile, then, ‘Here you go,' she said. ‘I'll wait for you right here by the door.'

‘Thank you, Miss.'

She barely made it to the toilet in time. It was as if she'd had gallons of Coca-Cola to drink.

When she came out, Lillian was where she'd said she'd be. ‘Better?' she asked.

‘Yes, thank you, Miss. I really had to go.'

‘Good. I'm just gonna take you back over here. Okay?'

‘Okay.' She went along, breathing in Lillian's flowery perfume, until they got to an office where the dark man was talking to another man in a suit.

‘Everything okay?' the dark man asked Lillian.

‘Yes.'