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“I’m not speculating,” the DI says. “We’re not treating her death suspiciously at the moment. But we definitely need to find him now. I—” She stops then and looks over my shoulder again. This time she smiles. “Here’s someone I think you’ll definitely want to see.”
I turn and see a woman pushing a stroller through the station toward us. A sergeant opens the door for her, and she comes into the office.
“Hey, Marina,” the DI says. “James, this is Marina Serkis, she’s a foster mum and looks after children temporarily for the social services at times like this. Marina, this is Leia’s uncle, James Rutherford.”
“Hello,” Marina says, pushing the stroller up to me. “I’m so sorry to hear of your loss.”
“Thank you.” I can’t take my eyes off the baby sitting in the carry seat that’s clipped to the stroller. She has a dusting of light-brown hair, bright turquoise eyes, and a freckle on her cheekbone. It’s definitely Leia.
Marina lifts her out and passes her into my arms. I hold her stiffly, conscious of everyone looking at me. I should say something to her, but my mind has gone blank. She stirs, and I feel a wave of panic. She’s a real, living person, not a doll. I’ve held her a few times, but mostly I’ve watched over her in her bassinet or carry seat while Maddie is busy. I feel awkward holding her, and afraid I’ll drop her. What do I do if she cries?
Aroha comes over to me and looks down at her. “She has your eyes,” she whispers.
“They’re Maddie’s eyes, too,” I reply. My voice sounds strangled. Maddie’s eyes are blind now. She won’t ever see her daughter again. “Can you take her?” I say abruptly as my own eyes blur with tears.
She glances at me, but just says, “Of course.” She lifts Leia from my arms and cradles her. “Kia ora, Piri Paua,” she murmurs, smiling at the baby. It’s a Maori endearment that refers to how babies attach to their mothers the way the paua—also known as abalone, a mollusk with a beautiful iridescent shell—clings to a rock. “She’s gorgeous, James.” She bounces a little from side to side the way many women do instinctively when they hold a baby, looking down at her. She knows what to do. I feel a flood of relief, glad I asked her to come with me. “She’s not ginger,” she says with a smile.
“Red hair is a recessive trait,” Henry says, stroking Leia’s hair. “You have to have red alleles or genes from both parents. Leia must have had one red one from her father and one brown one from Maddie.”
“I fed her about an hour ago,” Marina says. “And I’ve given her a bath in case you didn’t have time today. She’s a bonny little thing. So sad about her mum, though.”
“Yes,” Aroha says. “It is.”
“Are you her aunt?” Marina asks.
Aroha clears her throat. “No, I’m James’s friend.”
“She’s a qualified childcare assistant,” I add. “She’s going to help look after Leia. Is that it?” I ask the DI. “Can we go now?”
She nods. “I’ll keep in touch regarding the investigation and the coroner’s report.”
“Thank you.” I nod at Marina. “And thank you so much for looking after Leia.”
“You’re very welcome. I’m glad I could help.” She goes over for one last look at the baby. “Take care, precious.” She kisses her little hand, then steps back.
Henry pushes the stroller and Aroha carries Leia, and we leave the station and walk back to the car. Aroha instructs us how to fix the car seat into the back with the seat belt, and then she places Leia in it carefully and clips her in. She gets into the back beside her, Henry and I get in the front, and he starts heading back to Christchurch.
“I wonder if you could drop me off at Kia Kaha,” Aroha says. “I’ll pick up my car and call home to get a few things, then I’ll meet you at your house, James. You want me to stay the night with her, right?”
“If you could.”
“Of course.”
Leia starts grizzling a little. Aroha entertains her with Pooh Bear for a while, but Leia soon starts crying again.
“What are your views on giving her a dummy, James?” Aroha asks.
“Sorry, what?”
“I didn’t find any at the house, but Marina left a new one tucked in the car seat. Do you mind if I give it to her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Some people don’t agree with giving babies dummies or pacifiers, that’s all. You’re her guardian—it’s up to you to make those decisions for her now.”
And that’s when it hits me fully, like a frying pan to the face. I’m completely responsible for Leia. It’s up to me to make medical, behavioral, religious, and indeed all other decisions that will affect how she’s brought up.
Maddie and I never discussed this. When we were together, we talked mostly about how she was feeling, and rarely about Leia’s future. Fucking hell. How did this happen?
