chapter9

Cathy Smith peeled back the duvet to reveal Dylan and Caleb hiding underneath. She'd been trying to get the five-year-old twins up for more than half an hour, but they were being cheeky this morning. She'd eventually managed to get them out of their bunk beds, but they'd immediately fled, hiding first in her wardrobe, then in her bed.

This time she showed them no mercy. Having located their hiding place, she pulled the duvet off, exposing the giggling fugitives. They tried to make a break for it, but she was ready for them. She pounced, tucking one under each arm, dragging them back onto the bed. For a minute they protested, struggling and kicking; then, seeing that the situation was hopeless, they turned on her, tickling her for all they were worth. Cathy protested—she was a highly ticklish grandmother—but secretly she loved every minute of it. In spite of the tough start these boys had had in life, they were extremely affectionate and loving.

They were only six months old when their mother committed murder. Three, four, five times a day, Cathy cast her mind back to that night, wondering if she might have done something differently. Perhaps if she'd refused to babysit the boys, then Leah wouldn't have been at that pub, wouldn't have seen her no-good boyfriend with another girl. Had she been too soft on her? Too accepting of the mood swings, the drinking, the violent flashes of temper? Often Cathy cursed herself for her failings, laying the blame for the ensuing tragedy firmly at her own door. Other times she tried to put it down to sheer bad luck. Leah hadn't meant to kill the girl, didn't realize that she was expecting a baby...

So many lives destroyed in one moment of madness. The girls’ parents broken by their loss, Leah serving a life sentence and Cathy bringing up two baby boys, despite the lack of a man in the house or a steady income. Each day was a struggle to meet their needs, and yet... every day brought little surprises, moments of joy that made it all worthwhile. Cathy was exhausted, but in spite of everything, she never begrudged the boys her role as their carer. After all, if she hadn't taken them on, they would have ended up in care.

Cathy was keeping the family together. One day Leah would be released and then they could all be together again. Until then she wouldn't grumble, wouldn't complain. She would do what needed to be done and make the most of their infrequent visits to Holloway. There were pictures of Leah all around the flat, but in truth nothing could replace one-to-one contact.

With an eye on the clock, Cathy pulled the boys to her, kissed them once on each cheek in turn and said, “Breakfast, then clothes and teeth. Double quick, please.”

The boys groaned but Cathy was prepared.

“I've got Coco Pops for good boys who do as they're told. After all, we don't want to be late for Mummy, do we?”

Cathy smiled as the boys scampered off. She knew Leah depended on their brief visits. And, if she was honest, so did she.