The Stranger in Our Bed: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller that will keep you hooked

by Samantha Lee Howe

  The restaurant was full, but a table was found for us immediately as the maître d’, Francis, knew us well.

  ‘My favourite couple!’ Francis said.

  I didn’t know how he managed it, but we always got the same table, in the quietest part of the restaurant.

  ‘He has whoever is sitting there removed when we arrive,’ joked Tom.

  ‘Removed?’

  ‘Yes. Dragged off out the back through the kitchen.’

  I laughed, but part of me wondered if it was true. The way Francis and the waiters fussed over us, made me wonder if Tom had some kind of stake in the restaurant.

  ‘Thank you, Francis,’ I said as he brought our drinks. Tom had red wine and I had water. ‘I’ll have a small glass of the wine too.’

  When Francis left, Tom said, ‘Are you sure you ought to drink, darling?’

  ‘The doctor said one glass wouldn’t hurt.’

  ‘Okay. If you’re sure.’

  I felt guilty when the wine came; I took one sip, and then I gave it to Tom.

  ‘I’ll stick with water after all,’ I said.

  ‘Good girl,’ Tom said.

  I looked out around the restaurant, wondering if anyone we knew was there, and then I saw the man who had been at Carlisle Corp, standing outside the front window.

  ‘Who’s that?’ I asked Tom.

  He glanced towards where I indicated. ‘Who?’

  ‘That man. I saw him at your offices.’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘He came out of the lift as I went in. I thought I’d seen him before but couldn’t place him.’

  Tom shrugged. ‘Maybe he was delivering something.’

  I stared at the man.

  ‘I’m having veal,’ Tom said.

  I returned my attention to the menu.

  ‘Just excuse me a minute,’ Tom said. ‘I just remembered I need to make a call. I promise I won’t be long.’

  Tom left the table and went to the front of the restaurant. The man I’d seen was gone now. Outside, Tom put his phone to his ear but whoever he was talking to didn’t have his full attention: he looked up and down the street as though he were searching for someone. After a few minutes he came back inside.

  I returned my attention to the menu.

  ‘Everything okay?’ I said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Tom.

  I gave him a sideways glance.

  I began to wonder then what secrets my husband had. I had always believed he never lied to me. But he had just then and in an obvious way.

  I stroked my hand over my belly and then I found Tom looking at me. He was smiling. He appeared happy and relaxed.

  ‘You look so beautiful, darling,’ he said.

  ‘I’m a blob right now.’

  ‘No you aren’t.’

  I fought back the curiosity about the man and then told myself a story that would make me stop worrying about it. My observation of the man had brought him to Tom’s attention. Maybe he just wanted to check him out further. In his position you couldn’t always trust strangers. The man might have been spying on Tom after all.

  When we arrived home a couple of hours later Tom went to his office. From our bedroom I heard him opening and closing the file cabinets and then the shredder was switched on.

  I was curious about what he was doing and so I pulled on my robe and walked down the corridor to the office. Tom came out and closed the door behind him.

  ‘Would you like some hot chocolate?’ he said.

  ‘That would be lovely.’

  ‘I’ll get it for you,’ he said.

  Dismissed, I went back into our room but I was intrigued as to what he had been doing.

  A few minutes later Tom came in with two mugs of chocolate.

  ‘Mother left a voice message,’ Tom said. ‘She cancelled your lunch date for tomorrow. Something came up apparently.’

  ‘She has a busy social life,’ I said. ‘Was that the shredder I heard?’

  ‘Yes. Work stuff. No longer needed.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Our baby was born six weeks later. It was a difficult birth, lasting eighteen hours, and when the midwife held our child out to Tom to cut the cord he said, ‘Oh God. All that and it’s a girl.’

  I was a little out of it by then on pethidine and gas and air. I’d torn and so the midwife gave me the mask again as they sewed me up. Tom held our blanket-wrapped baby and walked around the theatre cooing to her.

  I blacked out for a while and then woke to find Isadora by my side. I was in a private hospital that we’d chosen together. The perfect place to have our first baby and one often used by the royal family for the same purpose. I was back in my private room which had a huge bed and a beautiful ensuite bathroom that also had a bath as well as a shower.

  ‘Where’s the baby?’ I said. Panicking I sat up too quickly and gasped with the pain.

  ‘She’s fine. She’s in an incubator. They weren’t sure she’d need it but it’s a precaution because she’s two weeks early.’

  I slid back down against the pillows.

  ‘Let me help you a little,’ Isadora said.

  She pressed the controls on the electric bed and the bed moved and lifted me into a more comfortable sitting position.

  ‘Want some water?’ she asked.

  She helped me take a sip.

  ‘When can I see her?’ I asked.

  ‘She’s being examined by the doctor and then they’ll wheel her in here. Although I thought you should have a rest. Someone else can feed and change her for a day or two at night time while you recover.’

  ‘I can manage,’ I said.

  Isadora smiled.

  Tom came in with a nurse wheeling the small cot.

  ‘She’s fine,’ he said and then he kissed me. ‘Well done, darling! You were so brave. I’m so proud of you!’

  Tom looked tired but happy. He’d stayed with me all through the labour.

  The nurse brought the cot closer, and Tom lifted our little girl up and held her out to me. She was beautiful and tears sprang to my eyes as I took her in my arms. I couldn’t believe how small her fingers were. She looked so fragile and her little face was all red and scrunched into a frown as though this new place didn’t please her at all.

  ‘Melody Isadora Carlisle,’ Tom said. ‘Meet your mummy.’

  ‘Oh!’ said Isadora. ‘She’s blonde. She takes after you, Charlotte dear!’

  I looked down at Melody and saw the soft short white blonde hair. She had already been washed and she smelt beautiful.

  ‘How long was I out?’ I said.

  ‘Twelve hours dear. The doctor gave you a sedative. We thought it best.’

  Isadora took Melody from me.

  ‘You’re worn out you poor thing,’ she said. ‘Get some more sleep. We’ll all be here when you wake.’

  ‘But doesn’t she need feeding?’ I said.

  ‘Don’t worry that’s all taken care of,’ Tom said.

  ‘But … I wanted to breast-feed her!’

  ‘Darling, sometimes these things don’t work out. Rest now, and don’t worry about a thing.’

  We went home a few days later. We had to stay longer than usual to make sure that Melody continued to thrive. My daughter was strong and it was all precautionary, but because she was so tiny the doctors had thought it best that I didn’t breast-feed her. This, they said, was to make it easier for them to measure her nutritional intake. They gave me medication to wash my own milk away and talked at length about bottle feeding and sterilising. All of which I knew about but hadn’t planned on needing.

  ‘I can’t wait to get out of here,’ I said.

  ‘I know it wasn’t what you planned,’ Isadora said, ‘so I’ve bought the bottles and steriliser and milk in for you. The plus side of this is that Tom can feed Melody as well. You’ll both bond with her the same way.’

  ‘But isn’t a mother’s milk better for the baby?’ I said.

  ‘Don’t worry. She’ll have the best s
tart there is.’

  Back home I found everything I needed ready and waiting, and Tom took charge of Melody. He lifted her out of the carry seat and placed her in a Moses basket that had been positioned in the living room beside one of the chairs.

  ‘Sit down, darling,’ Tom said and he rushed about making bottles of milk formula and then placing them in the fridge ready for use.

  ‘My goodness! I didn’t think you’d be so hands-on,’ I said.

  ‘I have something for you.’ He held out a box with a bow on top.

  I untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was a silver photo frame with a 10 x 8 sized photograph of us. It was the selfie taken at the Manor. The small wood was behind us. It was a lovely natural picture and we both glowed with obvious happiness.

  ‘The weekend she was conceived,’ Tom laughed.

  I giggled. ‘What a lovely gift, thank you darling!’

  ‘I have the same one on my desk now,’ Tom said. ‘It’s my favourite picture of us.’

  I placed the photograph on the coffee table where I could see it. I loved it.

  The doorbell rang. Tom returned with Isadora carrying a bunch of flowers. After I received and admired them, Tom took the flowers and went away in search of a vase.

  ‘He’s being amazing,’ I said. ‘Taking such good care of me. He’s going to be an amazing father.’

  Isadora kissed my cheek and then looked at Melody who was sleeping in the Moses basket.

  ‘I’ll go and see if Tom needs any help,’ she said.

  I sat back in the chair. I was tired but so happy and everything was so wonderfully normal. I admired my beautiful child with her fair hair and long dark eyelashes.

  ‘Here’s a drink for—’

  I looked up as Isadora gasped. The cup fell from Isadora’s hand and tumbled to the floor.

  ‘Oh my god!’ she said, her face pale.

  ‘What happened?’ I said. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Your carpet. I’ve ruined your carpet,’ she said, quickly bending to pick up the mug.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Tom said coming in with a tea towel. He blotted the coffee stain from the cream wool. ‘We can get a cleaning company in if I can’t get it out. You wouldn’t believe how many times we’ve spilt red wine on this.’

  I watched Isadora rush around trying to find something to clean the carpet.

  Her behaviour was off, but I couldn’t quite understand why.

  Tom decided to go out to buy something to fix the stain.

  ‘A foaming carpet cleaner,’ Isadora said, surprising me that she knew anything about cleaning products, since she always had someone to do things for her.

  ‘I’ll make you another drink,’ Isadora said and she went off into the kitchen as Tom left the apartment.

  I followed her. ‘What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘I’m jittery about being a grandmother.’

  ‘Isadora … you’re never jittery!’

  I let her make me the drink because she insisted, and then Melody started to cry.

  ‘She needs feeding and changing,’ I said.

  I went back into the living room and looked at the caramel-beige stain by the coffee table.

  I lifted Melody and took her into the nursery, placed her on her changer and made her more comfortable. I warmed one of the prepared bottles of milk and returned to the living room, picked up the baby and fed her. Isadora sat opposite me watching in silence.

  As I propped Melody up against my hand and winded her, I caught Isadora glancing at the photo.

  ‘That was taken at the Manor,’ I smiled. ‘Isn’t it a lovely gift? Tom gave it me.’

  Isadora’s eyes lingered on the photograph. Something flitted across her face, as if she was trying to solve some problem that only she knew of.

  ‘It’s a lovely picture of you both,’ she said. She stared at the frame for a long time before she came to a decision. ‘I have to go, Charlotte. I’m sorry. I have some errands to run.’

  She kissed Melody on the forehead, then stroked my face in an uncharacteristic display of affection. Something about her behaviour brought a rush of concern for her.

  ‘I’m sorry. Goodbye.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the carpet, Tom will sort it out.’

  ‘Yes, dear,’ she said.

  I watched Isadora leave and glanced back at the photograph. Maybe I imagined it, but I was sure she was looking directly at the picture when the coffee cup fell from her hand. And if that was so, something in the image had troubled her. Whatever it was, it was something important: I’d never seen Isadora distressed in all the time I’d known her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  After a couple of weeks I was back working on the fundraiser. Isadora was helpful, but she had become a little distant since Melody’s birth. I had thought she would want to see the little girl a lot, but she didn’t appear to be too bothered. She even stopped our regular lunch date because she had ‘other things to do’.

  ‘Your mother is acting a little weird,’ I said to Tom. ‘She’s barely seen Melody since the day we came out of hospital.’

  ‘She probably hates the idea of being called Gran,’ Tom said. ‘You know she’s vain.’

  ‘I spoke to her yesterday about the fundraiser and she gave some advice, but again, seemed disinterested.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Tom. ‘She’s playing hard to get.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She wants you to beg her to take over because you can’t cope.’

  ‘But I can cope.’

  ‘Are you sure? I mean isn’t this too much for you?’ Tom asked. ‘You do have enough on with Melody really, don’t you?’

  ‘Just a few more weeks and this year’s fundraiser will be finished. You know that your mother wanted me to do this one … I’m sure she hasn’t changed her mind. Anyway, Tina starts tomorrow.’

  Tina was our new nanny. I had bowed to both Isadora’s and Tom’s suggestion and we’d hired one. Isadora had vetted references and individually interviewed the girls for us. Then we’d all interviewed the short list and settled on Tina. She was a sweet girl, in her late twenties, so not too young to be considered responsible. Even so, the idea of having a nanny was strange for me.

  ‘Oh yes. I’d forgotten about that,’ said Tom. ‘That’s good news, darling, and should give you a little time to yourself again.’

  When Tina started, Tom took me out on a date night and it was nice, but I worried a lot about Melody. It amused Tom that I kept texting Tina to see if all was well.

  ‘And you were so reluctant to have one!’ he teased. ‘Look at you now.’

  Tom plied me with wine and it didn’t take much to get me giddy after so long without alcohol.

  When he got me home, and Tina had gone, I realized Tom had more of a motive for trying to make me relax. We hadn’t had sex since Melody’s birth and he wanted to remedy that.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ I said. ‘I haven’t had my six-week check-up yet. The midwife says we have to wait until after that.’

  ‘A week won’t make much difference,’ he said.

  I was fairly tipsy and very pliable and so I didn’t object as he led me into the bedroom.

  ‘We’ll need a condom. I’m not taking contraceptives yet,’ was all I said.

  Once I got used to handing Melody over to Tina, I started going to the gym again a couple of times a week. I wanted to get into shape for the fundraiser and it was nice to have my body back to myself again. And some time alone.

  ‘She looks a lot like you,’ Tina said to me one morning as she picked Melody up out of her cot. ‘Bet Mr Carlisle doesn’t like that much.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘Men love it when they see themselves in their kids. They forget that this is a girl and she’s supposed to look like her mother.’

  I laughed at the thought. I was dressed for the gym and so I kissed Melody and went to fetch my
gym bag. But as I left Melody’s room, I found Tom standing in the hallway outside, his expression dark with rage. So much so that I took a step back. The look on his face frightened me.

  ‘Tom?’ I said. ‘What’s wrong?’

  He picked up his briefcase and stormed out of the house.

  I was shaken and confused by his behaviour. I was sure he must have misheard the conversation I’d had with Tina.

  I pulled my mobile phone from my gym bag and rang him.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I asked, when he eventually picked up the phone.

  ‘She doesn’t look anything like me,’ he said.

  ‘What? Tom … that wasn’t what—’

  ‘I want a paternity test.’

  ‘You know she’s yours. You didn’t let me out of your sight until I was pregnant … So don’t be so bloody ridiculous!’

  Tom hung up on me. I stared at the phone, not knowing what to do. My heart pounded. Why couldn’t he trust me? We were happy, weren’t we? He had everything he wanted and still …

  I found Isadora’s number in my phone and rang her.

  ‘Hi,’ I said, my voice was shaky. ‘Are you free to talk? I just need some of your great advice again.’

  ‘What’s wrong,’ she said with genuine concern.

  ‘Tom doesn’t think Melody is his.’

  ‘How ridiculous … Why would he think such a stupid thing?’ Isadora said.

  ‘Well, maybe because I cheated on him.’

  ‘He knows that there is no way Melody could be … that man’s.’

  ‘I know that but he overheard Tina say she doesn’t look like him. Well that wasn’t what she said but he took it that way.’

  ‘I’ll talk to him,’ said Isadora.

  ***

  I went to the gym and tried to carry on as normal, but that awful anxiety had returned as a big knot in my stomach. I felt sick and afraid. I really didn’t want to live like this again.

  Isadora called me back a few hours later. By then I was frantic with worry.

  ‘He wouldn’t take my call, so I went to his office,’ Isadora said. ‘He’s very upset.’

  ‘I … what do I do?’ I said.

  ‘I told him he’s being stupid. But he wouldn’t listen.’