Liv, who was following Polly’s side of the conversation on Insta, looked utterly baffled.
‘So, Polly, could you do me a favour? Will you pull over? It’s just … I have something to tell you. And I’m really nervous telling you this big, exciting news while you’re driving.’
‘What are you on about?’ Liv hissed.
‘I dunno,’ Ali said, covering the phone. ‘Everyone is mad for a bit of “exciting news” on the ’gram. I’m breadcrumbing her.’
‘Exciting news?’ Polly sounded suddenly engaged. ‘Exciting news relating to me?’
‘Yep, it’s really big, Polly. I was just talking to an agency that represents influencers and they said something I think you’re going to want to be sitting down to hear.’
‘Oh my gawd!!!!! Do they want to rep me? None of the fucking agents have ever come neeeeear me,’ Polly squealed.
‘I can’t say until you pull over, Polly, seriously. It’s too big. I can’t risk you crashing with the excitement.’
‘It’s mother-fucking-working!’ Liv was shout-whispering and holding out the phone to show Polly indicating, carefully pulling over to the hard shoulder and popping her hazards on.
‘OK, Ali. I’m stopped. Spit it out!!!! I can’t take the suspense.’
Ali paused, watching as three Garda cars pulled up behind Polly with several guards in high vis jackets spilling out and carefully approaching her.
‘Madam?’ Ali could hear the one closest on her end of the call. ‘Madam, kindly hand me the phone and step out of the vehicle.’
‘Officer, I’m on a very important call,’ Ali heard Polly say as Georgie started screaming in the back seat.
‘She’s not my muma. She stole me.’
The line went dead and Ali heaved a grateful sigh of relief as Liv hugged her.
‘You genius! I’ll let Amy know.’
Ali sank back onto the sofa and texted Polly.
I’m sorry for tricking you, there’s no exciting news, Polly. Hope you get the help you need.
Chapter 29
Shelly lay on the bed in her private room, dark only for the bedside lamp and the room diffuser she’d brought from home. She gazed in elated disbelief at the new baby wriggling beside her. She was alone with him for the first time since his birth four hours earlier. Sandra had slipped out for another frantic whispered phone call. She’d been antsy and distracted all afternoon. Presumably Dan was in constant communication – it had not been a part of the plan for her to give birth while he was at the conference in London. She knew he was probably in Heathrow right at this very moment trying to hijack a plane to get back.
Though, honestly, it was, Shelly realised, something of a relief that he wasn’t there. She couldn’t imagine doing the whole wild, frightening, beautiful mess of birth with him. Not anymore. They were more like strangers now and frankly she couldn’t bear the thought of being so vulnerable in front of him.
She ran her fingertip softly around the baby’s face.
‘Hello you!’ she murmured, her lips pressed to his temple. Oh my God, that smell. If you could bottle it …
The birth itself had been much better than she’d expected. Sandra, despite her intermittent phone calls to Dan, had been a very comforting and soothing presence. It made Shelly feel impossibly young to have her mother there with her, encouraging her to breathe and cheering her on during the pushing.
‘What will we call you, my sweet baby?’
He didn’t so much as sigh in response. Four hours old and he barely seemed to realise that he had indeed been born. Since his initial upset at being wrenched from her, he had been sleeping. For the first time since groggily waking from her nap to the pains of birth, Shelly groped for her phone in the bag beside the bed. She was still moving gingerly, though no episiotomy this time, thank God.
She snapped a picture of the baby and herself looking wrung out but delighted. There were hundreds of notifications on her Insta, but she couldn’t face taking so much as a glance and bursting her new-baby bubble. She shared the pic with Amy along with a dozen heart emojis.
Sandra slipped in the door quietly. ‘Ah, I was hoping you’d be getting some sleep. Wait.’ Sandra’s eyes widened. ‘Have you been on the phone?’ She rushed forward and snatched the device from Shelly’s hand.
‘Jesus! What’s wrong? I was just taking a picture.’
Her mother scrutinised her, looking worried and sceptical.
‘What did you see?’
‘Nothing.’ Shelly felt a spike of fear puncture the momentary oasis of calm she’d been revelling in just moments before. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
‘Nothing’s happened. I just want you to be in this moment with your baby and not online.’ Sandra was brusque.
‘Mam! That’s horrible. Of course I wouldn’t be on the internet at a time like this.’ Shelly could feel her mood flipping abruptly. Hormones. ‘Why are you being like this?’
‘I’m not being like anything. I just want you to get a proper rest, that’s all.’
She’s being weird. Shelly felt a stab of anxiety. What is she so tense about? Luckily, the midwives came around shortly after to kick out visitors. Shelly needed a break from Sandra’s strange edginess.
Sandra was clearly reluctant to leave. ‘Don’t stay up now, Shelly.’ She turned to the midwife. ‘Make sure she rests. No internet – she needs to relax.’
‘No probs, Mammy, I’ll be keeping an eye on her,’ the midwife promised, smiling.
‘I’m grand, Mam! Nighty-night. I’ll see you tomorrow. You need to get some rest too.’ Shelly blew her a kiss.
As soon as she was certain Sandra must have left the building, Shelly scrambled for the phone. Her mam was acting way too crazy for there not to be something brewing online that she was worrying about her seeing, but what now?
She flicked through her phone rapidly searching for any whiff of scandal. It took about two seconds to find the cause of Sandra’s unease.
‘Influencer Goes Postal on M50 with Kidnapped Child’.
A wave of nausea crashed over her. A smiling picture of Polly with her children’s faces blurred out was the lead image under the headline.
Scrolling quickly through the article, Shelly felt as though every scrap of oxygen had been sucked from the tiny room. Every paragraph revealed a new level of anguish. Georgie being stuffed into the back of Polly’s car? A high-speed chase on the M50? An Insta LIVE of the whole bloody thing?
Shelly struggled to breath. Oh my God. All day I’ve been here in this baby bubble while Georgie must have been terrified. She started crying hysterically and fumbled to dial her mother.
When Sandra answered, Shelly could barely get a full sentence together and Sandra didn’t need her to.
‘I’m coming back, darling. I’ll be right there. Stay calm. Georgie is fine. Everything is fine.’
Shelly could only muster a strangled sob in reply. Incredibly the baby slept on while Shelly wept and tortured herself with clips of Polly’s deranged spree on her phone.
The one relief was that in the media reports Georgie’s identity was being protected but it was clear that everyone on the internet knew exactly who had allowed her child to be kidnapped.