Another new chapter. As always, I own very little from this story - the plot I'll tentatively lay claim to and a few characters such as Lucy, Dawid & family etc, anyone you recognise from the telly, well obviously they're not mine. But they were getting lonely in storage so I reached them out to have a bit of exercise. I promise to put them back when I'm through and can guarantee I'll be every bit a pauper as I am right now! So you could try suing me but I really wouldn't recommend it unless you like the challenge of getting blood from a stone.
Thank to those who have read and special thanks to those who have taken the time to review as well, you have no idea how much it warms my heart and feeds my muse. Feel free to drop me a line with your thoughts about this one too. Next chapter will be up once I've had chance to review it and get rid of any glaring errors, plot snags etc.
Enjoy and thanks for sticking with this.
"Guv, we've had a call from Crimestoppers. Apparently they got an anonymous tip off a little while ago about a possible location for where Dawid's being kept." Mickey breathlessly burst in through Sam's door without knocking, daring to hope that they were about to catch a break in their case finally.
"Where?" Sam asked immediately, turning a blind eye to Mickey's ignorance of proper protocol in her haste to investigate.
"37 Marlborough Avenue; it's a detached house on the new development at the back of the Canley estate, owned by Craig Fenton, an investment banker who's recently run into hard times, lost his job with Phillips Providential a month ago. He's a registered sex offender - his ex-girlfriend caught him molesting her 8 year old son from a previous relationship. The caller said he'd seen a boy matching Dawid's description through one of the windows when he was walking his dog this morning. The very fact that a child has been seen in the house of a known sexual predator is red flag enough to warrant a visit, isn't it?" Mickey filled Sam in as thoroughly as he could while they walked briskly through to the incident room.
"It is. Find Grace and Kezia, I'll speak to Inspector Gold and see if we can borrow some uniformed officers." Sam was unwilling to get her hopes up that they would find the child alive and relatively unharmed. It all seemed too easy, too neat, almost as if someone or something was trying to divert them from the course the investigation had been taking. Their enquiries into the Moss's and into Jenkins had drawn very little of any use beyond Adam Moss admitting that he ran an unauthorised youth drop-in centre for kids from the school. Sam strongly felt that it was simply a convenient lie, admitting a small misdemeanour to avoid further questioning and then suddenly a sighting of Dawid leading them in a completely different direction. At no time had the name Craig Fenton cropped up, he had no obvious connection to the Podowski's nor the Moss's or Jenkins from what Mickey had told her. The pictures of Heaton with the young child nagged at the back of Sam's mind, leading her to be ultra suspicious of anything illogical. She was a great believer in the old adage that if something seemed too good to be true, it generally was. Right at that moment though, all she could be concerned about was getting to Dawid, or whoever the child sighted was, before any further harm came to them.
"Good morning Jo, how are you feeling today?" Mr Dendryck stood beside the brunette's hospital bed, her open chart in his hands.
"Peachy," Jo snarled grouchily, not feeling in the mood to answer questions or to be poked and prodded. She was in pain from the operation and had a raging headache from the almost stifling heat of the hospital ward. "When do I get to bust out of this joint?"
"All in good time, all in good time. I need to take a look at your surgery site, make sure it's settling down as it should and then we're going to review your pain relief, see if we can't lower the dosage for you, stop you feeling so groggy all the time." The surgeon was used to his patients struggling with depression following the operations he performed and dealt with it by being direct in his explanations, encouraging them to separate the facts from their emotions for as long as it took to be examined.
"Do whatever you need to," Jo sighed, resigned to having no control over a body that no longer even felt like it was hers. As a nurse drew the curtains around the bed to afford them a little privacy while the surgeon examined Jo's wound, the brunette turned her face away, unwilling and unable to bring herself to look upon her mutilated chest. She felt the flimsy gown she wore being peeled back followed by the pull of the adhesive reluctantly separating from her skin as the man carefully removed the dressing.
"Excellent, that's looking exactly like we would hope for it to look at this stage in your recovery. Just a little swelling, some discolouration and redness but nothing that's not to be expected. How is the pain this morning? How would you describe it?"
Jo knew that the surgeon was simply doing his job but still had to bite back a snappish retort about feeling like she had been sliced open, had the contents of her breast removed with a spoon and then crammed back in by some ham-fisted moron. Instead, she settled on a sullen, "it's bearable," keeping her head resolutely turned away.
"Well, the good news is that we can get you moved onto a ward where your family and friends can visit you and I'll let the oncologists know you're ready to look at beginning the chemotherapy and radiotherapy regime they've decided on." The surgeon indicated that the nurse should exchange the dressing for a new one and turned his attention back to his patient's chart.
"I don't want visitors." Jo's tone was determined but weary, a single tear trickling onto the pillow from her now closed eyes.
"Let's get you settled on the ward first, you might feel differently once you've had time to get your bearings." Mr Dendryck made a note on Jo's chart for her mood to be monitored closely and suggesting the possibility of MacMillan nurse or psychiatric intervention if necessary.
Lorna sat on her couch in the silent house cradling a steaming hot mug of coffee and mulling over the changes that had occurred in the last few days; the revelations regarding Heaton and his involvement in some kind of child pornography ring, Jo's operation and the implications of her cancer, the swift change in her relationship with Sam. As soon as her thoughts turned to the petite blonde detective, Lorna's heart started to pound, recalling Katie's casual parting shot. Katie knew about her feelings for Sam. The thought startled the redhead and filled her with a sense of uncontrollable panic. She had hoped to shield her daughter from her new 'relationship', if it could even be called that, until such a time as she was sure of where it was heading and if it was safe to let Katie form any kind of attachment to Sam. The last thing she wanted was for Katie and Sam to grow close only for Sam to then disappear from their lives if the connection between herself and the other woman didn't last the distance. Katie had already known too well the pain of loss in her short life and Lorna would do anything she could to spare her from having to go through that again. The Scot cursed herself for letting her emotions run away with her, for forgetting, however briefly, her responsibilities and the effect a relationship with a woman might have on her daughter. While Katie had seemed flippantly alright with the idea in theory, being faced with the reality could well prove to be a whole different thing. Lorna was close to Katie, they had only had one another for such a long time following James' death, and the mother was reluctant to let anything jeopardise their bond. She vowed to speak to Katie at length about the whole situation and if she caught so much as a hint of discomfort with the idea of her pursuing Sam, Lorna would suppress whatever feelings she might have and back away from Sam. It would be hard and it would be painful, especially with them having to work together – closely if they were to get to the bottom of the pornography ring – but her daughter's welfare and happiness came first and foremost. That, at least, was something she was sure Sam would understand, being a mother herself.
Everyone was in position and anxiously awaiting the order to proceed. Sam strode up to the front door of the innocuous-looking house and banged on it sharply. A groggy man who looked to be in his early 30's opened the door a short way, peering out with a scowl.
"Craig Fenton?" Sam enquired brusquely.
"Yeah, who wants to know?" The gravel in the man's voice suggested the officers had woken him up, which Sam hoped meant that he had not been tipped off and moved any child he had inside the house to another location.
"Detective Inspector Nixon, Sun Hill Police. Mr Fenton, we have a warrant to search your house." Sam handed over the copy of the warrant for their suspect to read, indicating that the uniformed officers could move forward and begin their search. The man meekly moved aside allowing the officers into his home without putting up any kind of resistance. Sam, once again, suspected something not to be right with his reaction, the lack of denial of wrongdoing or attempts to evade arrest seemed too passive for a suspected paedophile of this magnitude. Either that or the man was arrogantly deluded and thought they would find nothing with which he could be charged.
"DI Nixon?" The sound of a male voice drew Sam's attention and she hurried off in the direction from which it had come. Officers stood at the top of a narrow flight of stairs leading to a sub-basement, below ground level of the house. "No sign of the boy yet but I'd hazard a guess that down there is where he was filmed." Sam ventured down the sturdy steps into a room which had been transformed into some kind of dungeon-come-bedroom, complete with numerous sex toys and implements which brought tears to her eyes just looking at them. The room did bear many similarities to the one in which Dawid had been videoed being abused but Sam was not as convinced as her officers.
"Guv, they've found something upstairs." Another voice drew her back up the stairs into the hallway and on up another flight of stairs.
"Mickey, what have we got?" DC Webb spun around as he heard Sam addressing him and stepped aside to reveal a trembling Dawid on a bare mattress in a corner of a room whose door had been forcefully opened. The blonde detective took in the wide eyed, glassy expression of the young boy and stepped forward to approach him cautiously, not wishing to scare the child any further.
"Hi Dawid, my name's Sam and I'm a police officer." She kept her voice soft and gentle, keeping her distance until she was sure the boy was not threatened by her. "Your mum and sister sent me to find you, they've been very worried about you. Would you like me to take you to them?" Sam watched a weary resignation settle on the boy's features, an expression far too old for his age.
"But I was good, I did what I was told. I don't want to do it again, it hurts." Dawid started crying and wrapped his arms around his tiny body tightly, burying his face in the cocoon between his knees and chest. Sam thought she spied blood on his pyjama bottoms and knew she would have to work on getting him to trust her so that he could be checked medically.
"Is that what they told you before? The people who hurt you?" Sam queried, needing to know the levels of deception which had been used to dupe Dawid into co-operating. She watched as he nodded tearfully, expression still suspicious and wary of the blonde woman. "Well I'm going to make a telephone call and get your mum on the phone so you can speak to her and she can tell you herself, would that be ok?" Again she was greeted with a hesitant nod. Maintaining her distance, so as not to crowd Dawid, Sam pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and dialled the number for Sun Hill station, asking to be put through to CID as soon as her call was connected.
"DS Turner, Sun Hill CID," the voice intoned on the other end of the line.
"Stuart, it's Sam. I need you to bring Mrs Podowska to the telephone, there's someone here who needs to speak with her." Sam bit back the string of things she would have liked to say to the man who had answered the phone but knew that must wait for a more appropriate time and place.
"Have you found the boy?" Stuart pressed for information, wanting to know if he could be the one to report back to Heaton that Dawid was no longer missing.
"I don't have time to waste, DS Turner, please just get Mrs Podowska to the phone, now." Sam had left instruction for Dawid's family to be brought to the station, in case the tip off led to Dawid being found. She listened as the phone hit the desk at the other end and could hear Stuart muttering about being frozen out and taken for granted, his words growing fainter as he retreated from his desk.
It was only short moments later that Sam heard a breathless voice in her ear, "Dawid?"
"Mrs Podowska, this is DI Nixon. I'm going to pass my phone over to Dawid now so you can let him know he's safe coming with me." Sam extended her arm holding the mobile phone towards Dawid who shuffled slightly closer in order to reach out for it. He kept a careful eye on Sam as he took the device, body taut in readiness to flee if she tried anything.
"Mama?" The next few minutes passed by in a blur of tears and the young boy rapidly talking in his native tongue with his mother, all the while watching Sam. She saw the distrust evaporating from his eyes as his mother assured him that he could trust the lady who had given him the phone and that they would see him very soon. The call ended and Dawid launched himself at his saviour, burrowing as close as he could into her side and wrapping his short arms as far as he could around her waist. "Thank you," Sam heard him murmur as fresh tears coursed down his cheeks. She felt her heart wrench at the sincerity in his voice and found herself gently holding him to her body. Knowing that it was cold outside, Sam took the flimsy sheet with which Dawid's makeshift bed had been covered and wrapped it around him before picking him up and cradling him to carry him down the stairs and out to the waiting ambulance. She left instructions with Grace and Mickey to arrest Craig Fenton, stating that she would be accompanying the traumatised child to the hospital. She asked that officers be arranged to bring Dawid's family to the hospital too so that they could be reunited as soon as possible. Despite her misgivings surrounding the circumstances of Dawid's return, she allowed herself to heave a sigh of relief that at least he would be back with his family before long.
Lucy walked purposefully through the hospital corridors, negotiating her way to the ward on to which she had been told Jo was moved. She stopped by the desk to introduce herself to the staff on duty and to ask where she could find her lover.
"Jo's in bay 5, just round the corner here. Before you see her, she did ask us to refuse admittance to any visitors so you might get a bit of a rough reception." The middle-aged nurse had a kindly face and an air of stoicism about her suggesting that she was a long-time employee on that particular ward.
"She's tried pushing me away before and I'm still here. I won't take no for an answer." Lucy swallowed past the lump in her throat. She had been so looking forward to seeing Jo again that it had never occurred to her that her lover would rather be alone.
"Be gentle with her, she's been through major surgery and is having some difficulties coming to terms with it just now," the nurse warned, making it clear that her only concern was her patient's wellbeing.
"I won't deliberately upset her, I just want her to know she's not alone," Lucy assured her, knowing that Jo didn't need any additional stress. The nurse nodded and indicated for Lucy to go on through to Jo's cubicle. The swarthy-skinned brunette needed no further invitation and scuttled off to find the woman who drove her to distraction and to newfound heights of pleasure in equal measure. She found Jo curled up on her side with her back to her. Not knowing if the brunette was awake, Lucy quietly retrieved a chair from the stacked store and cautiously placed it around the opposite side of Jo's bed, so that she was facing Jo's front.
"I told them I didn't want visitors." The deep, husky voice surprised Lucy, who had convinced herself that her lover was asleep.
"I know, they told me, but I really wanted to see you. I don't have to stay very long if you don't want me to but I'm here now, can you put up with me for a little while at least?" Lucy reached out for Jo's hand, stroking her thumb over the pronounced knuckles tenderly.
"You shouldn't have come, you should have got as far away from me as possible and not looked back. I can't be what you need me to be and you deserve better." Jo had spent the day mulling over what her oncologist had said about the treatment regime she faced and its likely side effects. There was no way she could expect Lucy to deal with that when she should be out living her life to the full.
"What do you think I need you to be, Jo? All I ever need is for you to be yourself, it's all I need now and it is all I will ever need you to be. There's only one place I want to be and that is by your side. You pushed me away once before and I left, like a total coward I left you to deal with finding the lump on your own. I'm not making that mistake again, I couldn't live with myself knowing I'd let you down that badly twice. So you can lie there in silence refusing to look at me or speak to me if you like but I am going to visit you every chance that I get. I love you, you big beautiful lummox." Lucy spoke from the heart, pulling her chair closer to the head of her girlfriend's bed and stroking the backs of her fingers across her cheek.
"How can you call me that? How can you even think it?" Jo croaked out beyond a barely suppressed sob.
"What? A lummox?" Lucy quipped, knowing exactly what Jo meant and not willing to feed into her self hatred.
"Beautiful. How… why… what…?" Jo couldn't form her question, eyes imploring Lucy to understand her struggle.
"Because you are. Jo, you're the most amazingly beautiful, gorgeous and adorable woman I've ever had the good fortune of knowing. Sure you have a great body…" Lucy saw her about to object and forestalled any interruption with fingertips pressed to Jo's luscious lips, "…yes you do, every bit of it, but your beauty radiates from inside of you, sweetheart. You have such a gentle, caring soul and you always want to protect everyone else from any kind of pain, even if that means you have to suffer alone. Noble sentiments but I'm afraid you're just going to have to accept that on this occasion, you can't shelter us because me and all your friends fully intend on standing out in the rain and getting wet along with you."
"I don't deserve you," Jo cried, knowing she was making things even more difficult for her lover but she just couldn't understand how anyone would regard her butchered and mutilated form as anything other than grotesque. She hadn't expected to feel so strongly about the loss of her own breast and its replacement with a synthetic one, not having thought herself particularly attached to them and in truth finding them a darn nuisance on more than one occasion given their size and propensity for getting in the way.
"You deserve whatever will make you happy, Jo and if I can be a part of that then count me in because the only way I will walk away from you or from this fight is if my presence makes you miserable or hampers you in any way." Lucy looked over the hunched form of her partner, noticing that she was still in a hospital gown rather than the pyjamas that she had brought in for her to wear. "Are they not letting you wear your own clothes?"
"I never asked about it, I haven't felt like doing much today," Jo admitted quietly, not having given any thought to her attire or her comfort. Lucy stood up and announced that she was going to ask about the possibility of helping Jo change into her own pyjamas, hoping it might help her to feel better about herself.
"Feel up to slipping into something undoubtedly more comfortable?" The olive-skinned woman asked on her return with a soft smile.
"You don't have to, I can probably manage myself later." Jo stuttered, nervous at the thought of Lucy being confronted with the reality of what she now was, what the surgery had made her, and fearing that the younger woman would take back her words and flee at the cold, hard, truth before her eyes.
"I'm sure you could but perhaps I might just want to do this for you. Is everything going to be a battle with you? Only I'm quite sure there are better things you can be fighting than a wanton woman undressing you!" Lucy joked, although there was some truth in her words, reminding Jo that her energy was better served beating the cancer so that she could show Lucy just how grateful she was for her support every day for the rest of their lives.
"Wanton huh? I'm not sure I've got the stamina to do much other than sit up at the minute." Jo's humorous statement was punctuated by a wide yawn as she attempted to swing herself into a seated position on the edge of the bed.
"Jo! The thought hadn't even crossed my mind that you would!" Lucy squeaked, glad to see she was managing to coax Jo out of her shell at least a little. The brunette hurried to close the curtains around the cubicle in order to shield her lover from the rest of the ward before retrieving her pyjamas from the bedside locker. She helped Jo steady herself, the movement sending a wave of dizziness through the patient as her blood pressure struggled to right itself. Crouching at her feet, Lucy took great care in tenderly feeding the pyjama pants up her lovers legs, dropping a chaste kiss again one knee before it was covered in the soft jersey cloth. Once they were within Jo's own reach, Lucy simply supported her and allowed the older woman to take control, not wanting her to feel helpless. She sensed Jo's tension increasing as Lucy reached for the jacket which went with the set. "You let me know when you're ready to do this, ok?" Lucy stroked Jo's cheek and leant down to lovingly kiss her inviting lips. It was intended to be a brief, chaste show of affection but multiplied into a more amorous display of how much the enforced separation had affected each of them. When they surfaced for air, Lucy raised Jo's hand to her own chest, pressing it to her pounding heart. "See what you do to me with just a kiss? Don't ever doubt that I'm where I want to be, with the only person I want to be with."
"Lucy… I… I love you so much." Jo sighed as she leant her head forward, resting it against her lover's stomach and revelling in the feel of the young woman's fingers threading through her hair, teasing her scalp, over and over again.
"I love you too sweetheart."