He looked at her puzzled for a moment and then shook his head. ‘Mary, not Maisie,’ he said as if that explained everything.
Maisie blinked uncertainly. ‘You didn’t want me?’
He shook his head, waved her away and reached for the packet of antacids he’d been chewing with increasing regularity. Popping a couple into his mouth, he resumed his thoughts. Perhaps there was nothing sinister about Ellie’s increased interest in Bill. The idea that she was trying to pull the wool over his eyes was ridiculous. ‘Ridiculous,’ he muttered, unaware he’d said it aloud until he saw the wary eyes of his secretary look his way.
He got up and shut his office door.
He rang late morning to be told that Bill seemed to be improving and Ellie was still in bed. Mid-afternoon, the improvement had continued. ‘Mrs Armstrong has him now,’ Mary said. ‘She’s said she’ll look after him while I go and have a lie down.’
‘Is that wise?’ he said hurriedly. ‘She’s not very strong.’
There were a few seconds of silence before Mary’s voice came again, a little cooler. ‘I’m only going to lie down for an hour, Mr Armstrong. She can call me if there’s a problem.’
‘Yes, of course, of course,’ he said, running a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry, Mary, it’s just that I worry when I’m not there.’
‘There’s absolutely no need,’ she said, but her voice was still cool.
He hung up and sat staring at the phone for several minutes before picking it up and dialling home again. It rang several times before switching to answer machine, his own voice inviting him to leave a message. Hanging up, he dialled again, this time it was engaged. He waited a moment and dialled again. Still engaged.
Just the two of us. ‘Oh God,’ he muttered, running a hand over his face. She wouldn’t, would she?’ He tried once more, got the engaged tone again and stood.
Should he ring the police?
And say what?
That he thought his wife was planning to kill their child…well, not exactly their child, officer, his child with his dead sister-in-law who he suspected his wife of killing.
He laughed, heard the edge of hysteria and stopped, his eyes growing hard. It was time for action.
Slipping on his jacket, he grabbed his coat and told Maisie he felt so unwell that he had to go home. It wasn’t precisely a lie; he felt sick to his stomach. Ignoring her raised eyebrows, he rushed from the office.
The underground was fifteen minutes’ walk away. Running, he made it in ten, rushing into the station, stepping onto the elevator and pushing past people who stood on the wrong side blocking people like him who were in a hurry. On the platform, he stood too close to the edge and had to step backward when the tube stopped and the door opened to a mass of people getting off. Pushing forward again, he got on, staying near the door while it travelled the four stops to Highbury and Islington.
He couldn’t make the tube go any faster, but he couldn’t stand still, stepping from one foot to the other, drawing apprehensive looks.
At his stop, he was out of the door before it had finished opening. He took the elevator, mercifully almost empty this time, racing upward two steps at a time, tripping when he got to the top, righting himself before running on, shouting at people to get out of his way.
He was breathless by the time he reached his house, armpits damp, a trickle of sweat down his back, heart thumping. Leaning on the front gate, he took a shuddering breath. Whatever he was going to find inside, he needed to be calm before he could face it.
The key shook in his hand as he tried to insert it into the lock, the sound of metal on metal grating. Finally, he got it in, the key turned and he pushed the door open.
The house was quiet, but then it usually was. What was he expecting? Screams?
Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly and walked to the kitchen door. He rested his ear against it but there was nothing to be heard. His hand, sweaty from the race to get home and from the fear that swept over him in waves, slipped on the door knob. He wiped it against the arm of his coat and tried again. This time it turned, and he pushed the door open.
He was so pumped with fear that he gasped when he saw Ellie standing by the kitchen island, drinking coffee, one hand lazily turning the pages of the newspaper. The gasp brought her face up and she stared at him in surprise. ‘I wasn’t expecting you home so early,’ she said, giving him a friendly smile. The smile faded when she took in his dishevelled look. ‘Are you feeling all right? You haven’t caught Bill’s bug, have you?’
He moved over to the cot. It was empty. ‘Where is he?’
A frown creased her brow. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ she asked, moving across to him and laying a hand on his forehead. ‘You’re all sweaty,’ she said, drawing her hand away, ‘for goodness sake don’t go near him if you’re coming down with something. The poor mite is just getting over his cold.’
Feeling suddenly weak, he pulled a chair from the table and sat. ‘I don’t feel well,’ he admitted. ‘You’re right, I’d better stay away from him.’ He looked around the room. What had she done with him?
‘Good idea,’ she said kindly. She tousled his hair as she passed by. Will watched as she headed to Mary’s bed and bent over it. ‘He’s still out for the count,’ she said, coming back to stand beside him.
His world kept tilting at crazy angles. ‘Why is he sleeping over there?’
She laughed. ‘I was pointing to birds on the bird-feeder when the phone rang, so I plopped him on the bed. When I got back he’d fallen asleep and I didn’t want to disturb him. He’s been sound asleep since.’
‘You took the phone off the hook,’ he said, understanding hitting him.
‘It’s only ever cold calls during the day. Mary said you’d rung so I didn’t think you’d call again. When Bill wakes up, I’ll put it back on.’ She looked at him in confusion for a moment. ‘I did right, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, of course you did,’ he hurried to reassure her. His paranoia wasn’t her fault. ‘I think I might go lie down for a while, until I feel better.’ He stood, then looked at the bed. ‘I’ll just go and look at him first,’ he said.
‘He’s perfectly safe, Will,’ she said, with a worried look on her face, ‘he’s right in the middle, even if he woke and squirmed, he wouldn’t fall off.’
She seemed genuinely concerned about him. Will reached out his hand and caressed her cheek. ‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ he said gently. ‘I just want to have a look at our son.’
Her hand came up to hold his and she smiled. ‘Go have a look, but don’t get too close in case you’re coming down with something, he doesn’t need more germs.’
It was just as she’d said. The baby was lying on his back, his arms stretched above his head, fat fingers curled into fists, his face turned slightly to one side, lips moving now and then as if he were, in his dreams, sucking on a bottle. He was the most beautiful thing Will had ever seen.
He felt Ellie behind him. ‘I love you both so much,’ he said quietly. ‘Both of you make my life complete.’ He turned. ‘You, me and Bill,’ he said, ‘we’re going to be the happiest of families.’ He looked straight into her eyes and said again, ‘You both make my life complete.’
She moved into his arms and put her hands around his neck. ‘I love you too,’ she said. ‘I know these last few weeks have been hard, but I’m feeling so much better. And I can feel the bond growing between me and Bill.’ She smiled. ‘Just the way you hoped it would.’
They looked down at the sleeping child.
‘I was thinking,’ she continued, turning back to him. ‘I might not go back to work at all. After the crash, and losing Tia, the job seems to have lost its allure somehow. I think I’d like to be a stay-at-home mum. Not yet,’ she added quickly, ‘but when I’m completely better, maybe in a few more weeks. We could do without a nanny, have the place to ourselves. Just the three of us.’
Will pulled her close. He loved her with every breath in his body. Just the three
of us. With those words in his head, he stood with his wife in his arms and thought he’d been wrong, stupid, paranoid. Everything was just fine. Just the way he’d hoped it would be.
52
The following days sped by and, before they realised it, it was eight weeks since the accident. Ellie was better. Her cast had come off and physiotherapy had restored full function to her wrist. All the cuts had healed without scarring and the bruises had faded and gone.
There were some residual problems from the concussion. Will noticed she was slower to pick up things than she had been and she was less assertive about what she wanted or didn’t want. Mostly, he missed the fire and passion in their relationship. They used to have heated rows, followed by the most incredible make-up sex. It made him smile to remember.
But now, he’d see her with Bill and think the change was for the better. He couldn’t imagine the old Ellie sitting down and reading stories from a children’s book or just holding him for hours, singing childish nursery rhymes.
‘How soon do you think we could manage without Mary,’ he asked her one Sunday afternoon. They’d taken Bill to a local park and were sitting watching children in the playground.
She looked at him. ‘She is so kind, so lovely, but it would be nice to have the place to ourselves. Sometimes, when I come down in my robe, I can almost feel her disapproval.’
He laughed. ‘She’s old school, she probably expects you to be up and dressed at cock-crow the way she is.’ He felt the sun on his face with pleasure and then peered down at Bill to make sure he was out of it, tilting the parasol slightly to shelter his skin from a sneaky sunbeam.
‘We have to give her a month’s notice,’ he said, reaching for her hand. ‘We could do it this evening and then by July, we’ll have the place to ourselves.’
‘Just the three of us,’ Ellie said, squeezing his hand.
Will breathed deeply, catching the scent of roses that drifted in from a local garden. The sky was blue, the sun shining and all was definitely right with his world. He rested an arm on the bench behind him, letting his eyes drift over the scene in front. In a few years, Bill would be playing in the playground. It would be good if he had a brother or sister to play with. Looking at Ellie, he wondered if it was worth broaching the subject of surrogacy again. There had been a lot of changes since her absolute refusal to think about it.
After all, she’d gone from just the two of us to just the three of us. Could he persuade her to go with just the four of us? It was worth thinking about. But perhaps, he grinned, one change at a time.
They gave Mary the news that evening. She didn’t seem surprised. ‘I knew this was coming,’ she said with a smile. ‘Actually, this is my last job. I’ve been planning on retiring for a while so it’s come at a good time. I don’t know if you want me to work a month’s notice, I’d be happy to leave earlier if it suited.’
They agreed she would leave in two weeks. Will opened a bottle of wine, persuaded Mary to have a glass and they drank to her retirement and to their future without her. ‘We’ll probably be begging you to come back within a couple of days,’ he said with a laugh, finishing his glass and pouring another.
‘No,’ Ellie said, her face serious, ‘we won’t, I can manage. I’m not an idiot, you know?’
Silence followed her remark. Will looked at her, horrified, his head woolly from the wine too quickly drunk on an empty stomach. ‘Of course, you’re not,’ he said, trying not to slur his words, wondering if it would be bad form to ask Mary to make some coffee.
She didn’t need to be asked. There was silence as she filled three mugs with coffee and brought them back to the table. Seeing Will’s shocked face, she took it upon herself to smooth troubled waters. ‘He didn’t mean anything by it, love,’ she said, resting a hand on Ellie’s arm. ‘It was just a silly joke. You’ll cope perfectly well without me.’
‘Of course, you will, I was teasing you,’ Will said, ‘you’re wonderful with Bill.’
‘I am, aren’t I?’ Ellie said, her eyes wet. ‘I’m just going upstairs for a bit. I’ll be back.’
They watched her go, Will running a hand through his hair. How thoughtless he was. He gave Mary a rueful grin. ‘I put my feet in it there, didn’t I?’
She smiled and patted his hand. ‘She seems strong but she’s still recovering from the accident and her sister’s death, Mr Armstrong,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if you know it, but she spends a lot of time in her sister’s room.’
‘Really?’ Will said, more than a little surprised. He’d never told Mary about the tension between the two sisters so she wouldn’t have known there was little love lost between them. ‘Tia didn’t bring an awful lot with her from St Germaine’s,’ he explained, ‘most of the clothes she had were bought when she moved in here. I suppose we should pack it up, turn it back into a guest bedroom. To be honest, I hadn’t really given it a lot of thought.’
‘I think it gives Mrs Armstrong some comfort, being close to her sister’s things,’ Mary said, ‘so be careful. She might rely on it for a bit longer.’
Will nodded. What she said made sense. After all, despite the tension between the two, they were still sisters.
Mary hesitated before saying, ‘You haven’t thought about taking her back to the doctor… You know, about her head injury?’
Will looked at her in surprise. ‘It wasn’t a head injury, as such,’ he said. ‘She had concussion. She came out of it very quickly, within hours actually.’ He cocked a head to one side. ‘What made you ask?’
She looked down at her hands clasping the coffee mug. ‘Don’t forget, I didn’t know her before her accident so I don’t know if she’s changed much. It’s just that you mentioned she had a very high-powered finance role…’ She looked at him apologetically. ‘You’d never guess from the way she is.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Will said, feeling a sudden chill.
‘Well, for instance, I asked her to help me when I was making lunch the other day. Just to weigh out four ounces of butter. The scales were on the counter, all she had to do was cut some butter and put it on it but she just looked at it blankly and turned away. And there was the other week when I asked her to sign my attendance sheet, you know, the one you do for me?’ She waited until Will nodded before continuing, ‘Well, she started and then grabbed the piece of paper and tore it up…angrily like…before telling me to get you to do it.’ She sighed. ‘I feel bad telling tales, but there have been a few other things; her absentmindedness for one. She says she’s going to do something and then forgets completely. I just wondered if you’d noticed and whether perhaps you should speak to the doctor again?’
Will frowned. Hadn’t he thought the same thing? Mary was looking apprehensive, as if she’d broached a subject she shouldn’t have. He nodded. ‘They said there might be some residual problems,’ he admitted. ‘I keep thinking if I’m patient and give it time, she’ll recover completely.’
‘It’s been more than eight weeks,’ she said. ‘It might be worth checking in with them. Make sure everything is as it should be.’
He put his mug down and pushed it away. ‘Tell me honestly,’ he said, ‘do you think she’ll manage to look after Bill without you?’
Mary smiled reassuringly. ‘Goodness, yes. I didn’t mean to worry you about that. To be honest, she’s been doing most of the work looking after Bill recently. She makes up his feeds quicker than I do, now. I did have to show her several times, but now she’s a whizz.’
‘That’s good to know. But you’re right, I’ll give the consultant who looked after her a ring and have a chat.’ He smiled. ‘At least it will put my mind at ease.’
He slept little that night, worrying about what Mary had said. She hadn’t known Ellie before the crash, but he had and he couldn’t deny she’d changed. Maybe there was something the doctors in the hospital had missed. If so, her condition might get worse.
At work the next day, he contacted Professor Grosschalk’s secretary and asked if he could make
an appointment to see him, biting his lip with frustration when he was told it would be the following week. Having, at last, decided to do something, he wanted to do it today.
It wasn’t to be. Despite emphasising the urgency of the situation, the secretary wasn’t budging with dates and, in the face of his persistence, said, ‘I would advise if you are very concerned about your wife, Mr Armstrong, that you should take her to your local hospital.’
Knowing when he was beat, he took the appointment for the following week and hung up. It was probably just as well. Between now and then, he’d observe Ellie, take notes and then would have a clearer picture to present. He sat back in his chair and flicked through emails he’d not bothered to read, frowning when he read one.
His office door was open. ‘Maisie,’ he called out, seeing his secretary’s head immediately lift.
She came in and stood looking at him, her hands clasped in front, thumbs tapping.
Will had known her for years, he’d never seen her looking so uncomfortable. ‘I was just reading an email about a meeting last week,’ he said, nodding to the computer screen. ‘I don’t remember being informed about any meeting.’
Maisie licked her lips and dropped her eyes to the floor.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked, suddenly realising how many strange looks he’d been getting recently. He supposed he’d taken quite a bit of time off in the last couple of months. ‘I wasn’t invited, was I?’ he asked gently.
‘Mr Metcalf said not to bother you, that you had enough on your plate,’ she said. ‘I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything.’
Will nodded. ‘I’m sure,’ he said, ‘thanks, Maisie. Close the door after you, will you?’
‘You sure you’re okay?’ she asked, her brow furrowing.
‘Yes,’ he smiled, ‘of course.’ When she’d gone, he dropped his face into his hands. Shit. When the CEO leaves you out of management meetings it most certainly did mean something. He wondered what else he’d been left out of. What was it Maisie had asked, you sure you’re okay? He seemed to be hearing that a lot recently.
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