‘My priority, Inspector, is the person standing before me. If the condition warrants pharmaceutical intervention then—’
‘But the babies?’ Kim queried.
‘May never have been born if she hadn’t had the help.’
‘Was Helen Daynes suicidal when she was pregnant with the twins?’
‘I’m not going to answer that. I’ve made myself clear that my patient was prescribed what was deemed necessary for her own well-being at the time she was referred to me.’
Kim paused for a moment. It was clear that he was avoiding something.
‘Doctor Cutler, are you aware of a sealed social services case involving Helen Daynes?’
‘That is not my department.’
‘I’m going to take that as a yes.’
He didn’t argue.
‘Is that the reason Helen needed help?’
‘The timing would work.’
‘You’re not going to make this easy for us, are you?’
‘Helen was my patient.’
‘And we’re investigating her murder, which was committed by someone who decided to try and make it look like she’d been responsible for murdering her own children. Now would you like to help?’
‘I’ve helped as much as I think I can.’
‘You know that we’re going to come back with a court order for her records?’
‘Absolutely, but to my knowledge, Helen committed no crime, she didn’t hurt anyone, so I’ll await the court’s instruction.’
‘And yet something happened twenty-nine years ago that scarred her for life.’
The doctor said nothing.
‘Why are you so insistent on not telling us what happened?’
‘Helen was my patient. Guarding her secret is what she’d expect me to do, and in this case, it’s what she’d want me to do.’
FORTY-SIX
Rachel Hewitt sipped her second double-shot latte, making the most of her temporary freedom.
Maternal guilt instantly clutched at her stomach. It wasn’t that she wanted to be away from Mia – she never wanted to be away from Mia, but she did want an hour or two on her own. It was a paradox that she now understood.
She was intellectually aware that she had lost most of her family and that her life would never be the same again. Her brain understood that her younger sister had been pregnant and hadn’t told her. Her logical mind accepted that she would never again see Lewis roll his eyes when she tweaked his ear. She understood, and yet she hadn’t cried once.
The place she’d chosen to come wouldn’t have been everyone’s idea of getting away. She had taken an outside table at a small coffee shop at the busy end of Brierley Hill High Street. Buses, cars and lorries thundered past, trying to catch the lights before they changed back. Shoppers were bustling around in and out, weighing themselves down with bargain after bargain. Groups of kids were passing her by with that end-of-day euphoria, uniform in varying stages of disarray. She remained unnoticed as she lit her second secret cigarette and delighted just for a second at the action. She had given up the minute she’d even suspected she might be pregnant, and nine months nicotine free had cemented her decision not to start again, but recent events had destroyed that resolve.
As she took a long satisfying draw on the cigarette, she marvelled at how people continued to function when their world was falling apart. You didn’t wear tragedy on your everyday face. You continued to smile at the cashier as she asked for your order. You continued to thank the person that held the door open for you or nod an acknowledgement at the person sitting at the next table. Nothing in your manner or actions would lead anyone to the true knowledge of events in your life.
Her thoughts continued to wander away from the feelings and questions that she had come here to face. Was the woman carrying bags of toys spoiling her kids even though it was nowhere near Christmas? Did the elderly man carrying one small bag of shopping have anyone to go home to? Was he just buying all he could afford on a daily basis? Everyone had a story, a life, problems, tragedies. She had the sudden urge to stand up and shout, ‘My whole family was just murdered,’ and begin some kind of impromptu group counselling session.
The smile that she felt rest on her lips was another indication that her brain had not yet fully accepted the news. It wasn’t something she’d been forced to face yet. Gavin had absorbed that pain for all of them. Good old Gavin, the reason she’d been able to get away for an hour at all. She loved her brother, but she didn’t trust him with her child. She knew full well that it would be her brother-in-law making sure her instructions were followed. It would be Gavin changing Mia’s nappy, Gavin giving her a bottle and Gavin making cooey noises at her.