Hope to Die

A sign is looming ahead of us now. Junction Nine, two miles. Quinn checks his mirror and moves over to the inside lane.

* * *

‘Watch yourself there, Mrs Swann,’ says the PC. ‘Don’t want you hurting yourself, now do we.’

He waits for her to settle in the back seat, then closes the car door carefully and walks round towards the front. Margaret pulls her coat around herself. It’s been a bad morning. The questioning, the form-filling, that irritating lawyer who clearly didn’t have a clue what she was doing. Margaret makes a mental note to insist she has a partner with her the next time. Because it looks like there will be a ‘next time’, much as she was hoping otherwise. She turns, a little stiffly, to check on her husband, but he’s staring resolutely out of the far window. Round the front of the car, the young PC who’s offered to drive them has now been waylaid by a colleague.

She hears Richard stir beside her, clear his throat. ‘They told me who he was. That – young man.’ A long pause. ‘I assume they told you the same.’

She hesitates; nods.

‘They made it pretty clear they thought I already knew.’

She flaps her hand. ‘That doesn’t mean anything. They were just trying to trap you.’

Her husband is eyeing her. ‘Trap me into what, exactly? I was telling the truth. I had no idea.’

She shrugs and looks away, but Richard isn’t giving up. ‘Did you know who he was?’

There’s a silence. ‘Peggy?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Why on earth would you think that?’

He frowns. ‘You did, didn’t you – if not before, then after. That’s why you –’

She raises her hand: the PC is on his way back round to the driver’s side.

‘Not here, Dick,’ she says in a low voice as the car door swings open. ‘We’ll talk about this when we get home.’

* * *

Interview with Camilla Rowan, conducted at Calcot Row Police Station, Gloucester

2 August 2002, 11.55 a.m.

In attendance, DIH. Lucas,DSL. Kearney, Mrs J. McCrae (Appropriate Adult)

LK: We’ve asked you here, Miss Rowan, because we want to try to clear up what happened to the baby you gave birth to at Birmingham and Solihull General Hospital in the early hours of 23rd December 1997.

CR: Good, I want to clear that up too.

LK: As you know, officers from the Child Protection team at Gloucester County Council have been attempting to ascertain the whereabouts of the baby, after the case was referred to them by Mr Steve McIlvanney, of the county adoption and fostering service.

CR: I don’t know why they had to drag you in. I’ve already told them what happened.

LK: You said you handed the baby to its father, is that right?

CR: Exactly.

LK: A Mr Timothy Baker.

CR: Yes.

LK: And this was after you left the hospital at 3 p.m. on December 23rd.

CR: Right.

LK: So where did this exchange take place?

CR: At a lay-by on the A417.

LK: [passes across a map]

Can you indicate which one?

CR: I have no idea – it was years ago and it was getting dark. Somewhere the other side of Gloucester.

LK: Mr Baker must have given you more precise directions than that – you’d never have found each other.

CR: I’m not saying he didn’t, I’m saying I don’t remember.

LK: That’s quite a rural stretch of road.

CR: Yeah, so?

LK: No street lighting, nothing like that. And not that many buildings, so it’s pretty unlikely any of the lay-bys would have security cameras nearby.

CR: I have no idea. I doubt it.

LK: So there’d be no proof the exchange had taken place. Or not.

CR: I don’t know what you’re getting at.

LK: Were there any other cars at the lay-by at the time?

CR: I don’t remember any.

LK: No one on foot? Walking their dog?

CR: How should I know?

LK: So no one saw you?

CR: Like I said, I don’t remember anyone, but I wasn’t really looking.

LK: And this man’s name is Timothy Baker.

CR: Right. I told you that.

LK: Was he alone?

CR: Yup.

LK: He didn’t bring his mother or a sister? A female friend? To look after the baby?

CR: I don’t even know if he had a sister. Like I told those other people, we only saw each other a couple of times.

LK: Was he married? In a relationship?

CR: Not that he told me.

HL: It didn’t strike you as odd that a young man like that would want to take on the responsibility of bringing up a baby on his own?

CR: He was its father. I told him I couldn’t care for it so he said he would.

LK: And when did that conversation take place?

CR: A few weeks before. I don’t know exactly.

LK: And how did you arrange the meeting on the A417?

CR: I rang him from the hospital that morning.

LK: From a hospital payphone?

CR: Right.

LK: You didn’t have a mobile?

CR: Not then, no. Most people didn’t.

HL: What type of car was Mr Baker driving?

CR: A white one.

LK: Make? Registration number?

CR: Don’t ask me, I’m useless about cars.

LK: And where did you first meet Mr Baker?

CR: At a pub. The King’s Head in Stroud.