flew out of the swing and ran to her, shrieking, “Auntie Gemma! Auntie Gemma! Come and push me!”
Gemma picked her up and hugged her. “I’ve missed you, too, poppet. But I can’t push you just now. I’ve got to talk to your dad.” She let Holly slide to the ground and sent her on her way with a pat.
Tim stood slowly, taking in Gemma’s face and the presence of the man and woman beside her. Hazel let Charlotte’s swing come to a rest. Then, looking down at the child, she called to Holly, “Come push Charlotte’s swing for a bit, sweetie. It’s your turn.”
“But I don’t want—”
“Now,” said Hazel, in a tone that brooked no argument. Holly went, her expression sulky, but she glanced back at her mother as if sensing something amiss. Hazel crossed to the patio and stood a few feet from Tim.
Gemma made the introductions. “Tim. Hazel. This is Detective Inspector Weller, from Bethnal Green. And Janice Silverman, from social services.”
“It’s bad news, isn’t it?” said Tim, starting towards them.
“I’m sorry, Tim.” Gemma touched his arm. “Naz Malik was found dead in Haggerston Park this morning.”
“What—How—” Even though Tim had seemed prepared, he swayed a little. “I don’t—”
“Why don’t we sit down, Mr. Cavendish.” Weller steered him back to his chair. Tim sank into it, grasping the arms as if they were anchors, and Weller pulled up another. “We don’t yet know exactly what happened to your friend,” continued Weller. “If you could go over what you told DI James, here—”
“But I—” He looked across the garden and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Charlotte. Oh, Christ. What about Charlotte?”
“She’ll have to go into foster care,” Janice Silverman explained, “until we’ve contacted any relatives.”
“But Naz had none. He was orphaned, and the aunt and uncle who brought him up here died a few years ago.”
“There’s the wife’s family.”
Tim shook his head. “They didn’t see Sandra’s family. Didn’t want Charlotte to have anything to do with them. Why can’t she stay here?”
“Do you or Mrs. Cavendish have any legal status regarding the child?”
“Well, no, but she’s comfortable here. She knows me, and Holly—”
“We’re separated,” broke in Hazel. “Tim and I are separated. We share custody of Holly, so she’s only here during the school week.”
“Then it would certainly be unsuitable for the child to stay with you, Mr. Cavendish. Now, I’ll need to talk to her, and then I’ll get the placement machinery rolling.” She glanced at the children, her expression softening. The girls had stopped swinging and were watching the adults. “Charlotte is the younger of the two?”
“Yes,” said Tim.
“Perhaps you could call your little girl, Mr. Cavendish?” suggested Silverman.
Hazel reacted first. She called Holly to her, then, taking her hand, said, “Mummy needs some help in the kitchen, sweetheart. It’s hot—we’ll make some cool drinks, shall we?”
Holly went with her willingly enough, glancing back only once at her playmate as she entered the house.
“Do you have to tell her? About her dad?” Gemma said quietly to Silverman.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Silverman went to Charlotte and knelt beside her swing, Gemma following. “Charlotte, I’m Miss Janice. I’m going to be looking after you for a bit.”
Sliding from her swing with her thumb in her mouth, Charlotte looked from Silverman to Gemma, her eyes wide.
“Your daddy’s had an accident, Charlotte,” Silverman went on gently. “He was hurt, and he died. That means someone else will take care of you now. I have a nice friend you can stay with, where you’ll be very safe.”
Slowly, Charlotte removed her thumb from her mouth. “Don’t want to,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I want my daddy.”
“Your daddy is not coming home, Charlotte. I’m sorry.”
“My mummy is coming home,” Charlotte
Gemma picked her up and hugged her. “I’ve missed you, too, poppet. But I can’t push you just now. I’ve got to talk to your dad.” She let Holly slide to the ground and sent her on her way with a pat.
Tim stood slowly, taking in Gemma’s face and the presence of the man and woman beside her. Hazel let Charlotte’s swing come to a rest. Then, looking down at the child, she called to Holly, “Come push Charlotte’s swing for a bit, sweetie. It’s your turn.”
“But I don’t want—”
“Now,” said Hazel, in a tone that brooked no argument. Holly went, her expression sulky, but she glanced back at her mother as if sensing something amiss. Hazel crossed to the patio and stood a few feet from Tim.
Gemma made the introductions. “Tim. Hazel. This is Detective Inspector Weller, from Bethnal Green. And Janice Silverman, from social services.”
“It’s bad news, isn’t it?” said Tim, starting towards them.
“I’m sorry, Tim.” Gemma touched his arm. “Naz Malik was found dead in Haggerston Park this morning.”
“What—How—” Even though Tim had seemed prepared, he swayed a little. “I don’t—”
“Why don’t we sit down, Mr. Cavendish.” Weller steered him back to his chair. Tim sank into it, grasping the arms as if they were anchors, and Weller pulled up another. “We don’t yet know exactly what happened to your friend,” continued Weller. “If you could go over what you told DI James, here—”
“But I—” He looked across the garden and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Charlotte. Oh, Christ. What about Charlotte?”
“She’ll have to go into foster care,” Janice Silverman explained, “until we’ve contacted any relatives.”
“But Naz had none. He was orphaned, and the aunt and uncle who brought him up here died a few years ago.”
“There’s the wife’s family.”
Tim shook his head. “They didn’t see Sandra’s family. Didn’t want Charlotte to have anything to do with them. Why can’t she stay here?”
“Do you or Mrs. Cavendish have any legal status regarding the child?”
“Well, no, but she’s comfortable here. She knows me, and Holly—”
“We’re separated,” broke in Hazel. “Tim and I are separated. We share custody of Holly, so she’s only here during the school week.”
“Then it would certainly be unsuitable for the child to stay with you, Mr. Cavendish. Now, I’ll need to talk to her, and then I’ll get the placement machinery rolling.” She glanced at the children, her expression softening. The girls had stopped swinging and were watching the adults. “Charlotte is the younger of the two?”
“Yes,” said Tim.
“Perhaps you could call your little girl, Mr. Cavendish?” suggested Silverman.
Hazel reacted first. She called Holly to her, then, taking her hand, said, “Mummy needs some help in the kitchen, sweetheart. It’s hot—we’ll make some cool drinks, shall we?”
Holly went with her willingly enough, glancing back only once at her playmate as she entered the house.
“Do you have to tell her? About her dad?” Gemma said quietly to Silverman.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Silverman went to Charlotte and knelt beside her swing, Gemma following. “Charlotte, I’m Miss Janice. I’m going to be looking after you for a bit.”
Sliding from her swing with her thumb in her mouth, Charlotte looked from Silverman to Gemma, her eyes wide.
“Your daddy’s had an accident, Charlotte,” Silverman went on gently. “He was hurt, and he died. That means someone else will take care of you now. I have a nice friend you can stay with, where you’ll be very safe.”
Slowly, Charlotte removed her thumb from her mouth. “Don’t want to,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I want my daddy.”
“Your daddy is not coming home, Charlotte. I’m sorry.”
“My mummy is coming home,” Charlotte
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