Chapters (82)
- Cover
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
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What the hell was all that about! She couldn’t believe his reaction – calm and rational about something that defied logic. His response hadn’t been normal. Either she was losing her mind or he was, and she was sure it wasn’t her. She had the proof she needed now and tomorrow she’d take it to the police. The video was clear enough, wasn’t it? Jan looked at her phone again to check – and went cold. The video clip had gone. Chris! He must have deleted it while she’d been upstairs. The bastard! There was only one reason for him to have done that – he hadn’t wanted anyone to see it. But why? He had to be involved with whatever was going on. There was no other explanation.
FIFTY
It had been too late on Wednesday evening to start telephoning Moller’s patients, so Emma took Thursday off work. Ian had already taken a lot of time off and she could gather the information they needed just as well – if not better – than he could. She sat at the dining-room table with Ian’s laptop open in front of her, making notes.
She’d been very nervous to begin with, but with each call it had got a bit easier, and being able to concentrate on something was helping. Most of the people she phoned were helpful when she explained she was asking for feedback on their healthcare experience. A few couldn’t remember the details she needed, and some said they never took part in surveys, so she apologized and moved to the next. It was time consuming and emotionally draining. Often the parent wanted to talk about the loss of their child or grandchild and poured out their feelings. Able to identify with losing a baby, Emma found it upsetting and exhausting as she struggled to hide her own feelings.
By midday she had collected as much information as she could and was able to confirm that Moller’s ‘Second Generation’ file referred to the children of patients treated by him, although they had never been to the clinic themselves – and A.L. stood for Anne Long. In each case where Anne had been the midwife the parents had suffered at least one late miscarriage and sometimes more than one, as she and Ian had. Yet everyone spoke highly of Anne: kind, caring, dedicated and showing great empathy for their loss. It wasn’t her fault, they said.
As a longstanding midwife, Anne would have delivered thousands of other babies in addition to those on Moller’s list, Emma thought. This high neonatal mortality rate couldn’t possibly be present in all her work or she would have been investigated and stopped from practising years ago. It was worrying and didn’t make sense. Why was this happening to Moller’s babies when Anne was involved? What was going so badly wrong?