Chapter 20
Gabriel
Just when things were going so well. Nope—fate’s not cutting me a break. I pick up the call.
"Hey, good to hear from you." I keep my tone friendly. I want to stay on her good side. After all, she let Rosie come to Italy with us, and that’s such an amazing experience for the little one.
"Good evening. Am I speaking with Mr. Kensington?" An unfamiliar man’s voice comes through, older-sounding. Definitely not what I expected.
"Yes, that’s me," I say, still confused.
"My name is Arthur Broone, Westminster Police Station. I’m calling to let you know your sister, Catherine Kensington, is in our custody.
She was heavily under the influence of alcohol and drugs, and there was an altercation with one of our officers.
We wanted to ensure a family member was informed of the situation. "
Well, I’m speechless.
In the background I hear muffled voices, phones ringing, the kind of noise you only hear in a police station. So, this isn’t a joke.
"Thank you for calling. I take it my sister’s in no condition to talk to me herself at the moment?"
"She has a blood alcohol level of 3.2 percent and also took other substances we haven’t identified yet. Some people with her said it might be heroin or cocaine. She’s being examined by our doctor right now."
I take a slow breath. "Thank you for dealing with her. I’m sorry she caused trouble for one of your officers." I pause, steadying myself. "What happens now? I’m in Italy at the moment, but I’ll be back in London tomorrow." I glance at Kim, who’s watching me nervously.
"Once she sobers up enough for questioning, she’ll go before a judge. Because of the assault on an officer, she can be held up to sixty hours…"
"She actually assaulted him?"
"That’s right."
I need to sit down. Kim comes over and holds my hand, which helps a little.
"At the moment, we can’t say if bail will be an option. The hearing is set for Monday at 11:00 AM. If you’d like to attend, I can give you the address."
"Yes, please. Let me grab a pen." Kim immediately stands up and hurries out of the bedroom.
"Would it be possible for me to call my sister at the station on Saturday? I should probably get in touch with my lawyer so he can meet with her."
"Of course."
The rest of the call is a blur. It doesn’t feel real, but it is. I jot down the station’s address, names, direct numbers—everything I’ll need.
When I finally hang up, I look at Kimberley, and something inside me finally eases.
"This is it. This is exactly what I needed."
"An arrest to take away Catherine’s custody rights," Kimberley finishes my thought.
"Alcohol. Drugs. Assaulting an officer. She’ll be locked up for up to sixty hours, and since she attacked and injured a cop, bail’s not likely. Once Child Services hears about this…"
"It’s perfect timing."
"Couldn’t be better."
"Couldn't have worked out better." I can’t help a grin. At the same time, I’m relieved immensely. It's not just a weight, but a whole mountain lifted from my heart and shoulders. "I need to call my lawyer. He should go to the station and get a first impression."
"So, Rosie stays with us for now?" she asks.
"I assume so. Sure, NSPCC could put her in foster care, but she’s used to me. And I have you."
Yeah, the timing really is perfect.
"This call will probably take a while. Go ahead and get some sleep—I’ll take care of everything."
"Oh, okay. Yeah, of course." Kim nods and heads for the door.
"If Rosie wakes up while I’m still on the phone…"
"I’ll take care of her," she says, already knowing what I was about to ask. I nod and watch her leave.
As soon as I’m alone, I call my lawyer, who sets out immediately to look into it.
Almost two hours later, we hang up—even though it felt like barely ten minutes.
I’m restless, wired with adrenaline. How the hell am I supposed to sleep now?
My mouth’s dry from all the talking. I need water before I even try. I leave the bedroom and walk carefully through the living area—cozy seating, kitchen, dining table. At first I don’t notice anything, but then something shifts on the couch. I stop, eyes adjusting to the dark.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, surprised to see Kim curled up on the couch. She sits up, wrapped in a blanket.
"I wanted to wait until you were done. In case Rosie woke up again." Sleepily, she rubs her eyes, gets up, and neatly folds the blanket before setting it back down.
I walk over to her—only the moonlight filtering through the window glass and the distant lights of Rome cast a gentle glow, allowing me to see her more clearly.
"You must be exhausted," I say. "I just wanted a quick drink, then I’ll try to sleep too—if I can."
"A little," she admits. Then: "What did your lawyer say?"
"He left right after our call to get a first look at the situation on site. He’ll go back tomorrow once Catherine’s sober."
I head toward the kitchen. Kimberley follows. "Tea? Juice?" I ask.
"Tea. I need to watch my levels," she says. I nod, put water on to boil, and she grabs two cups from the cabinet.
"He said my chances are good—like I thought. But he’ll need to talk with several agencies first. Next week’s going to be rough.
For now, Rosie can stay with us since I’m her only relative.
But family court has to decide if Catherine keeps custody.
NSPCC will be involved and dig into everything.
They’ll push to terminate her rights if they see a risk to Rosie’s safety—which they almost definitely will. "
"Yeah, that’s pretty obvious," Kimberley says.
"I’ll need to file with social services to adopt Rosie.
Before that, I can apply for an SGO—a Special Guardianship Order.
That would give me parental responsibility if the court isn’t ready to fully take custody from Catherine.
Kind of a stopgap if she goes into rehab or ends up in prison.
If she ever gets clean and out, custody could go back to her. "
"Hmm, I get it. They don’t want to split a mother and child if there’s still hope she’ll turn things around."
"Exactly. And in theory, that’s the right call. But they don’t know my sister like I do."
The water boils. I pour it into both cups while Kimberley drops the tea bags in.
"If Rosie stays with me, NSPCC will do home visits, interviews. With you, Steven, me—anyone around Rosie. Probably her daycare teachers too. They’ll also question Catherine’s friends and acquaintances to build a full picture.
" I take another breath. "Then family court reviews it all. Usually there’s a hearing, and I’ll be called in.
Catherine might show up too, or at least her lawyer. "
"Not yours, I hope?"
"I hope he can convince her to sign Rosie over in my care voluntarily, otherwise this could drag on forever. And that’s the last thing Rosie needs—living in limbo."
"Yeah…"
“It’s also possible the court rules in my favor and issues what’s called an adoption order. If my petition is granted, I’ll become Rosie’s legal parent.”
“And what about Catherine?”
“She’ll always be my sister. I’ll make sure she gets the best possible treatment—a detox program, rehab.
She has to get better. And only when I’m absolutely sure she can make a positive contribution to Rosie’s life will she be allowed back in.
Rosie needs to feel safe, and she has to want her mother in her life again. That’s what matters most to me.”
“So, either she agrees to let you have Rosie, or you’re facing a long court battle?”
“Yep. Exactly.”
“I can’t imagine it’s easy for a judge to make that call. Taking a child away from her mother is a heavy decision. I just hope it all goes quickly and doesn’t drag on for months …”
“Yeah, I hope so too.”
I hope so desperately.
After tea, we both head to our rooms. I’m far too unsettled to think about anything other than Catherine and everything that just happened.
The next few days will be critical.