Out of Control
Prologue
Christmas Eve
30 Years Earlier
Fiona placed a hand on her belly and smiled. This time next year Amber would be here. She’d be six months old, smiling, possibly sitting up, and enjoying all the fuss of a first Christmas. And before that, she and Rob had the pleasure of ‘the announcement’. Both sets of parents were invited for lunch on New Year’s Day. Rob planned to uncork the champagne and share the news that there would be a new family member towards the end of June. Fiona would have only a tiny glass of fizz, heavily diluted with orange juice. There would be applause and excited chatter — Amber would be the first grandchild on both sides.
Rob had bounced around the house with excitement for a full five minutes when she’d told him. Then they’d decided to be cautious and wait until Fiona had reached twelve weeks before telling anyone else. This magical shared secret had pulled them closer after a rocky patch in their marriage, during which Rob had developed a habit of staying up when she went to bed, making hurried, muffled phone calls and often arriving home late without explanation. Fiona had been wary of asking too many questions for fear of making things worse. But after she told him about Amber, he became a homebird.
“How can you be sure it’s a girl,” he’d said, caressing her still-flat belly.
“Just a feeling I get. Pregnant women have special powers, you know.” Then she’d kissed him, long and deep, and they’d gone upstairs without Rob making excuses to stay up alone.
But this week he’d relapsed and had been home late from work every day. And now, on Christmas Eve, he hadn’t even phoned to say where he was.
She opened her notebook at the ‘Christmas Dinner’ section again and checked for the umpteenth time that she had everything required and had done as much preparation as possible in advance: red cabbage made — tick; turkey defrosting in garage — tick; two dozen homemade mince pies in cake tin — tick; melon just ripe for their starter — tick. There would be ten of them, all adults, and the largest number she’d ever cooked for: four parents plus Rob’s brother and sister and their spouses. Working as a computer programmer had finally come in useful — Fiona was good at logical thinking and could use her skills to ensure everything would be ready at the right time. There would be no gnashing of teeth because the bread sauce was still a pile of crumbs, or the scarlet and gold crackers had been omitted from the place settings, or the brandy butter was still in the freezer. Rob had wanted to make the baby announcement during Christmas dinner, but Fiona had argued that their parents deserved preferential treatment and she would feel more confident telling them at thirteen rather than twelve weeks.
A sharp knock at the door made her jump. Had Rob forgotten his key? No, he tapped gently on the window on those occasions and then presented himself on the doorstep with a woeful expression. There was another impatient knock before she’d reached the hall.
“I’m coming!” There was rapping on the window as well now — and much harder than Rob would do.
A burly man had his foot over the threshold as soon as she opened the door. Taken by surprise, Fiona stepped backwards into the hall, allowing him to enter. He was wearing a dark suit, a pristine white shirt and a neatly knotted tie. The word ‘gangster’ jumped into Fiona’s mind. Another, even broader, man stood beside a white unmarked van in their driveway. Something was wrong. Fiona vacillated. Should she ask them to leave? Tell them her husband would be home any minute? Call the police?
“I’m looking for Mr Robert Washington.” The man waved an official-looking piece of paper at her. “Your husband?”
She nodded, heart racing, blood pounding in her ears. She rested her hand on her stomach.
“He bought a brown leather three-piece suite on hire purchase.” The man’s voice was brusque. “He stopped payments six months ago and ignored all subsequent correspondence. We are here to repossess said suite. Is this the lounge?” He went into the room she’d just vacated, swiftly followed by the second man.
Adrenaline flooded her body but shock rooted her to the spot. The bills came addressed to Rob and she had trusted him to deal with them. Now the men were manhandling the settee down the hallway and out to their van. The settee she’d been sitting on only a few minutes ago.
Fiona sank onto the bottom stair, her fists clenched with restrained anger. Anger at the two men who were violating her house, and anger at her husband who had somehow got them into a financial mess. How, she had no idea; with two salaries going into their joint account, they could easily afford the repayments on the suite. She’d wanted to save for a few months before buying it and then pay cash because the shop and the salesman gave her the creeps; the last thing she wanted was a long-term relationship with them. But Rob had insisted that the interest rate on the loan was less than they were getting on their savings and therefore the HP was a good deal. In the spirit of trusting her husband to do his best for them, Fiona hadn’t checked. Now she was rigid down her spine and across her shoulders. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps. She opened out her hands and tried to breathe normally for Amber’s sake. But it was impossible to let go of the fear and her fingers curled again. She was dimly aware of her nails digging into the palms of her hands as the two armchairs followed the settee outside.
The second man climbed into the driver’s seat of the van while the first came back into the hall with his piece of paper and a clipboard. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs—” he referred to his piece of paper — “Washington. You made things very civil for all concerned. Now, if you could just sign here.”
Like an automaton, she stood up and signed without reading the form. She became aware of tension in her belly. Tension that turned to cramping, and for a moment she forgot about being pregnant and wondered if she was getting her period. But only for a moment. Then she was terrified. There was wetness between her legs and she didn’t dare look down for fear of discovering the truth.
“Hey! You’re bleeding.” For the first time there was a sign of emotion on the man’s face.
“My baby.” The pain was increasing and Fiona doubled over, crying out from physical and emotional agony. Her daughter was dying. She was dimly aware of the man gently pushing her back into a sitting position on the bottom step and using the phone under the stairs. It seemed like hours until she was in the hospital, but in reality, Rob told her later, it was only thirty minutes. He’d arrived home just as the man put the phone down.
A scan confirmed that Amber was lost. Rob cried as much as she did. Then, after several mugs of sweet tea provided by the nursing staff, he told her about the gambling. How it had started in a low-key fashion with wins in the office Grand National sweepstake and a works night out at the greyhound track. He got a taste for the ‘high’ of winning and started following form for horse racing. A string of wins showed he was skilled in picking successful runners. These wins had paid for their first-ever cruise holiday the previous year — Fiona had been so trusting that she’d believed him when he told her about a ‘bonus’ from work. But then it had all turned on its head and he’d had to chase his losses — using the money put aside for bills and the mortgage.
“It’s only a matter of time before I get my eye in again and win the money back. If that stupid shop had given us another couple of months, I’d have been flush and there would’ve been more than enough cash to go round for everyone.”
“Everyone?” Emotionally and physically fragile after losing her baby, Fiona’s brain struggled to comprehend. “Not just the furniture people?”
Her husband’s head was in his hands and he mumbled something about the mortgage, gas and council tax.
“We owe all those people money?”
He nodded, still looking down into his lap.
“Are we going to lose the house?” She would’ve willingly let the house go over Amber, but losing both, she couldn’t contemplate. Rob didn’t look at her. That was when Fiona knew their marriage was over and she became hysterical.