asks Edwin to wait on the other side while he examines me. I can hear him breathing close by as I change into a gown, and I hold the precious piece of paper and the fur under my arm. The fur is of a nondescript greyish colour. The doctor examines me, takes some observations, and says that I need an emergency caesarean to save the baby. I tell him I have not eaten or drunk anything for at least 6 hours, and he rings up to Theatre to inform them to prepare for me. Another contraction makes me want to retch. A porter arrives with a wheelchair to take me up to Theatre. Edwin follows close behind, but is barred from entry at the doors to the operating suite.
I thought there was going to be a scuffle, but at the last minute Edwin gives in and says he will be waiting for me to come out, and to remember his promise. I shiver inside as I’m wheeled through the doors of the operating suite and into the anaesthetic room.
At last after nearly 10 years I am free of him. I bring out the piece of paper and the fur from under my arm. The paper is warm and folded up into a tiny square. I give it to the anaesthetist as another contraction makes me temporarily lose my grip on reality. I gasp and tell the anaesthetist that my name is Dr Elizabeth Nichols, and that I was kidnapped from the Rachelle hospital in Norfolk, on 20 th May 1987 by the man waiting outside, whose name I only know as Edwin. I tell him my 9-year-old daughter Amy is still being held prisoner in Edwin’s house, and that he has threatened to kill her if he finds out I have spoken to anybody. I tell him I do not know Edwin’s address. I also give him the piece of fur from the car seat. The anaesthetist gives me a stunned sort of look and assures me that one of the team will contact the police, but in the interim time is of the essence and that he must anaesthetise me because the baby is in severe distress.
He places an oxygen mask over my face and I breathe in deeply to help the baby. I thank the life inside me for giving me the means to escape, and vow to make a good home for the baby and for Amy.
I awake in Recovery from a dreamless sleep. I need a drink of water, but my eyes feel too heavy to open and I’m too sleepy to talk. I hear the doctor tell me that I have a son and that the police are on their way. I fall asleep again and when I wake up I am in a room on my own with my baby asleep in a cot next to me. The walls are pale blue instead of grey, and the floor has light green and white tiles. Daylight filters through blinds that are the colour of pale custard. My baby is wrapped in a blue blanket, and I blink in wonder at all the colours. There is somebody in a dark blue uniform standing by the door, but thankfully there is still no sign of Edwin.
I try to sit up, but the morphine is wearing off and I feel pain from the stitches in my abdomen. The person in the uniform comes in closer and smiles at me. She’s a policewoman and says her name is Faye Carter, and she asks if I’m up to talking. I manage to mouth at her that I need some water, and as I sip the cold refreshing nectar I look at my baby again. He definitely looks like a Jocelyn now, but I think I’ll call him Joss for short. Amy will be tickled pink.
Amy. Where is my darling? Is she hungry? Is she still crying for me? I come
back to reality with a bump.
CHAPTER 15
Faye sits down by my bed and says she wants to talk about the piece of paper I gave to the anaesthetist , and also about Edwin. She says my parents’ address and my statement that I had been kidnapped checked out, and that the Missing Persons Team had contacted my parents, who are ecstatic and are on their way to see me.
My eyes fill up with tears that spill down my cheeks. So many nights I cried for my mother when Amy was sleeping and I didn’t have to be strong for her. My greatest fear had been that they accepted I was
Learning to Kill: Stories