‘Thank you so much for waiting with me,’ she said instead. She wanted to tell him to call round sometime. For a cup of tea. But that would also have been ridiculous. And inappropriate.
Suddenly a police officer was standing on the top doorstep. ‘Apologies for the delay, Ms Denham. I’m Sergeant John Wilkes and this is PC Tyler.’ Sophie could see an unfamiliar female officer standing beside a police car that was parked immediately outside. Right where Jonah’s car had been earlier. ‘Mr Royston was transferred to Southampton General and is currently undergoing surgery.’
‘I thought Social Services were taking me.’
‘Social Services have been unable to locate a driver at short notice so we’ve undertaken to drive you there. Perhaps clear up a few details on the way. If I might have the car seat? That is assuming you have not made alternative arrangements for your daughter.’
Sophie frowned. ‘What details?’
Officer Wilkes presumed to step inside. ‘Mr Royston had no documentation on him at the time of the accident.’ His tone was almost accusatory. ‘We were hoping you might have access to his driving licence or passport. Some record of his national insurance number?’
‘I think Jonah keeps his licence and insurance papers in the car. But I’ve no idea where he keeps his passport. He was in Latvia for four weeks recently. Perhaps he keeps it in his business premises. I don’t remember ever seeing it.’
Sergeant Wilkes did not respond. He just gave Sophie one of those policeman looks that made her feel she might have committed some felonious act that had temporarily slipped her memory. Sam Barnes took a step forward to stand beside her. ‘I’m a close friend. Samuel Barnes. Is there some kind of problem, officer?’
Sergeant Wilkes glanced at Sophie. ‘Nothing for Ms Denham to worry about, Mr Barnes. Probably an administration glitch. But, in the absence of documentation, the hospital has been unable to locate any of Mr Royston’s details: his blood group, any existing medical conditions.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And, there appears to be nobody by the name of Jonah Royston registered as living at this address.’
3
‘I don’t know what that means,’ said Sophie.
‘It means, at the very least, that Mr Royston is absent from the electoral roll,’ said Sergeant Wilkes. ‘Only an Emily Denham is registered as living here. And according to Council Tax records, this residence is listed as single occupancy.’
‘Emily Denham was my mother. This was her house. She died the year before last.’
‘As I said, Ms Denham, probably an administration glitch. It will undoubtedly all be resolved. Our most immediate concern is to take you and your daughter to Southampton. If I might have the child seat?’
Sophie pointed into the kitchen. ‘It’s behind the door.’ She watched Officer Wilkes haul Laura’s car seat outside and looked at Sam Barnes. ‘Jonah thinks voting is a waste of time. And I don’t remember ever receiving any election papers.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about that now. Why don’t you fetch Laura and I’ll help get your things into the car?’
‘But how can my mum still be listed as living here? I registered her death.’
‘That kind of information probably doesn’t filter through to the electoral roll. It’s a different bunch of pen-pushers. I think you’re legally obliged to complete those election papers each year, but they’re hardly going to throw you in jail for not doing it. Although they might get a bit shirty over you not paying enough council tax. Don’t worry about it right now. Does Jonah have any medical conditions they ought to know about?’
‘No. He’s rhesus positive. I had to have injections when I was pregnant. But I don’t think—’
‘Sophie, just tell them what you know.’
* * *
Sam Barnes helped load things into the car then returned to guard his bicycle and watch as Sergeant Wilkes pulled away. Sophie tried unsuccessfully to placate Laura, who was currently red-faced and screaming. ‘She’ll quieten down in a moment,’ she yelled.
Officer Tyler glanced round and forced a smile then resumed staring at the windscreen. Eventually, Laura calmed and the car became unpleasantly silent. Sophie had never been relaxed about extended periods of silence, a shortcoming that, in the past, had provided many instances of her blurting out the exact wrong thing. And, right now, the silence was becoming oppressive. She leaned forward. ‘Jonah is rhesus positive,’ she said.
‘I imagine they would have discovered that by now,’ said Sergeant Wilkes.
Sophie slumped back into her seat and tried to focus on the scenery: the rows of shops, houses, recycling bins, graffiti, then trees and hedges. Then the motorway. Increasingly unfamiliar. She had absolutely no idea where she was from one minute to the next. Such ignorance comes of not being a driver, of being conditioned to simply sitting and being taken places, usually by Jonah, occasionally by Katie. Katie was always pressuring her to learn to drive but Jonah had always discouraged it: they couldn’t afford to run two cars, and the insurance premium on a BMW with a new driver would have been extortionate.
God, she needed to break the silence or she’d go mad. Again, she leaned forward. ‘How will I know where to go when we get there?’
Officer Tyler inclined her head. ‘We’ll escort you to Reception and you’ll be directed from there. Mr Royston will undoubtedly be taken to Intensive Care during the post-operative period.’
‘Do you know how he is?’
‘I believe his condition remains critical,’ said Officer Wilkes. ‘The surgery is likely to continue for several hours.’
Sophie glanced at Laura’s sleepy eyes. Perhaps she should have waited at home. She wanted to ask how much longer before they arrived at the hospital, but good sense told her that was verging on infantile. Yet again, she addressed the back of their heads. ‘We moved into the house the year before last, after my mother died.’ No reply. Sophie resumed looking through the window.
Officer Tyler broke the silence. ‘Where did you live previously?’
Did that sound like an attempt at friendly conversation? Not really.
‘We rented a flat. The other side of town.’
‘And Mr Royston’s place of work is nearby?’
‘Jonah rents some space at the Business Centre. He mostly has clients in London and the South, but he often takes contracts abroad. He was in Africa for six weeks in the spring. He missed Laura’s first Easter.’
Silence resumed. Then Officer Tyler turned in her seat. ‘Does Mr Royston have any clients that need to be notified? You’re likely to have quite a long wait. Making a few phone calls would occupy some of the time.’ Another attempt at a smile.
‘I wouldn’t know how to contact his clients. Their details are probably on his phone.’
‘Mr Royston did not have a phone with him when he arrived at Accident and Emergency,’ said Officer Wilkes. It sounded snappish.
‘He probably left it in his car.’ She was beginning to feel uneasy.
‘And you have no house phone,’ said Constable Tyler.
OK, now she was scared. ‘How do you know that, Constable Tyler?’