‘Well, as I’m sure you know, her conviction was upheld at the first appeal four years ago,’ he says, stroking his stubble. ‘But since then, we’ve uncovered fresh evidence and an application has been made to the Criminal Cases Review Commission. We have high hopes we’ll be granted another appeal.’
Kelly comes back carrying a tray of mugs. I wait until she has sat down and we’re sipping our coffees. Then I ask, ‘May I ask what this new evidence is?’
‘The twins slept on mattresses that contained added fire retardant chemicals. Studies have shown that Sudden Infant Death Syndrome can be—’
‘Cot death?’ Kelly asks.
‘Yes. Cot death. Research shows it can be caused by toxic gases, which are the result of an interaction between these chemicals and common household fungi. A baby who sleeps on its tummy, like Amber did, would breathe in dense fumes. But even a baby who sleeps on its back would be repeatedly exposed to these potentially fatal gases.’
‘But this isn’t new,’ I say. I remember reading something about this before, back when Mel was expecting Noah. Mel was obsessed with doing everything right. We had read up about SIDS, so we bought a mattress along with a special cover for it. And Mel made me give up smoking. ‘Surely they banned mattresses containing those chemicals?’
‘No, it’s not new. And yes, the chemicals were banned. Eventually. But Melissa’s ex-husband—’
‘Ex-husband?’
‘Yes. Well, he wasn’t then. He is now. She divorced him.’
‘Of course.’ I nod knowingly, although this is news to me.
‘As I was saying, her second husband was a bit of a cheapskate by all accounts.’ Dislike flashes across his face, but he quickly hides it. ‘He decorated the babies’ bedroom to surprise Melissa. The mattresses he got were brand new, but they didn’t conform to British Safety Standards. Michael says he doesn’t remember where he bought them.’
‘So, are you saying that the mattresses weren’t tested at the time?’
‘No, they were analysed when Melissa was arrested. They found phosphine, arsine and stibine in the air immediately above the mattresses.’ I stop him for a moment and ask him to spell all three gases. When I’ve written them down, he adds, ‘It’s just that the evidence presented in court against Melissa was more compelling.’
‘Then I don’t get it,’ I say. ‘What are the grounds for Melissa’s appeal this time? What’s this new evidence?’
He takes a deep breath. ‘In Ellie’s post-mortem, high levels of antimony were found in her liver and body tissue from the flame retardant in the mattress,’ he explains. ‘We’ve only recently managed to get hold of the toxicology report. This information wasn’t disclosed to Melissa’s defence team and, as you can imagine, it could be considered exculpatory evidence.’
‘Let me get this straight,’ I say. ‘New evidence has been uncovered that points towards cot death, and it is in fact old evidence that was somehow buried? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘That’s the gist of it, yes.’ Simon drains his coffee, glancing at his watch as he does so. ‘I have to go, I’m afraid.’ As he stands up, he adds, ‘You can always send me an email if there’s anything else you’d like to know.’
When Simon Goodman has left, I huddle over my notebook, ostensibly to scribble down a few more notes, but really to collect my thoughts. Talking to Goodman has made me uncomfortable. The whole Melissa Slade case is bringing up memories that I want to leave alone. I don’t want to associate her past with mine. I wish I hadn’t allowed Claire to push me into covering this case.
Putting down my pen a few seconds later and looking up, I notice Kelly furrowing her brows. I realise this is all rather technical. It’s hardly surprising she’s lost.
‘That was complicated, wasn’t it?’ It comes out sounding patronising and I instantly regret my question.
‘No, I followed everything he said about cot death and the poisonous gases and the new evidence that has come to light. It’s not that.’
‘Then what?’
‘What I don’t understand is that he said Amber slept on her stomach …’ She pauses mid-sentence, apparently thinking something through.
‘Yes, I don’t know why. You’re supposed to sleep babies on their backs.’
Kelly shakes her head. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ she says. ‘Superintendent Goodman said Amber breathed in the fumes directly, but then he talked about the results of Ellie’s post-mortem. And he mentioned twins. Did he get them muddled up?’
‘No, he didn’t,’ I reply, realising it’s my fault that Kelly’s confused. I’ve given her a piecemeal account of the events.
‘Then, which one died?’
‘I’ll start again from the beginning,’ I say, ‘and this time I’ll tell you the whole story.’
April – July 2012
When a baby dies unexpectedly, there’s always a thorough investigation. The police interviewed everyone who had been in the house when Amber died. I’d recognised the officer who asked me the questions, although I hadn’t known his name until he introduced himself. Constable Patrick Carter. Tall and skinny with short ginger hair, he was sympathetic and kind towards both Michael and me. A young female constable took notes during the interview.
Even though the police came to our home and I was sitting on my own sofa, it was unsettling to be the one answering the questions instead of asking them. There were lots of questions. Had I had an easy pregnancy? Did I have complications giving birth? Were the twins premature? How old was Amber? Had she been a healthy baby? Why did she sleep on her tummy? Had I given her any medicine, to help her sleep for example? Could I describe my relationship with my son when he was a baby? How did I get on with him now? Was I on good terms with my stepdaughter? What was my marriage to Michael like?
Despite the sobs that punctuated my sentences, I tried to give comprehensive, coherent replies. The pregnancy had gone smoothly even though I was expecting twins at the age of thirty-nine. I’d experienced no difficulty giving birth three weeks before the due date. Amber was twelve weeks and two days old when she died. She’d had numerous colds during her short life and she’d suffered from colic. I’d taken to laying her on her stomach as this seemed to ease her tummy pain. I’d given her Calpol occasionally, but nothing else. Callum and I had always been close. I got on well with both Bella and Michael.
I asked myself questions, too. Over and over again. Should I have attempted to resuscitate Amber as soon as I realised she was dead? What went wrong? And above all, why me? But I could come up with no answers.
A week later, the coroner’s officer called. Dr Holly Lovell, the pathologist who had performed the post-mortem on Amber, had recorded a verdict of sudden infant death from natural causes. There would be no inquest. The woman on the phone was compassionate, reassuring me that there was nothing Michael or I could have done to prevent Amber’s death.
In the days that followed, I tried to keep busy, organising Amber’s funeral. Michael and I had decided on a small ceremony and a cremation. I also took over with Ellie and spent as much time with her as