* * *
Watching a nurse cooing to Evie, who was now gurgling happily, having drained a bottle of formula feed, Mel waited for Dr Meadows to finish going through her notes. She almost hadn’t come – but for Mark’s insistence, she wouldn’t have. She was glad she had now. Dr Meadows had been kindness itself, somewhat restoring Mel’s faith. Despite a growing queue of ever more disgruntled patients to see, he’d taken time out to make sure she was looked after, and, more importantly, that Evie was. He’d waited until she was composed and then fetched her personally back to his office, thus allowing her to avoid the hushed whispers and sympathetic glances in the waiting room. Mel really didn’t need those.
He’d listened while she’d garbled an apology, and waited while she explained that she had no idea why she was feeling this way, that things had been good in her life and that this feeling hadn’t crept up on her so much as hit her like a bombshell.
He’d asked her to explain how she was feeling. After a brief hesitation, Mel had, summarising symptoms she knew only too well: lack of energy, exhaustion, sleeping too much, too little, loss of appetite. She was irritable, easily agitated, apathetic in turns. Each admission tightened the knot of fear inside her. She had problems concentrating and making decisions. Mel ticked all the boxes for the bleak depression she’d thought she’d escaped. The scariest box of all was the feeling that she was unable to look after her own baby. That she might even harm her own baby.
‘And you’re struggling with feelings of guilt?’ Dr Meadows asked astutely, turning towards her. His eyes were full of compassion, with no sign of the judgement Mel had been so worried about. She felt guilty all over again for not seeking help sooner.
Drawing in a long breath, she nodded.
‘Feelings of hopelessness and self-blame? Thoughts of suicide or self-harm?’ he probed gently. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Mrs Cain,’ he added quickly, when Mel dropped her gaze.
Again, Mel nodded. She’d tried not to allow her mind to drift down that path in the dark hours, tried so hard, but seeing the hurt in Mark’s eyes, the confusion, yet perversely feeling compelled to hurt him more because of it, she had started to believe he would be better off without her. Knowing that he’d felt the need to talk to someone else, a female someone else, only compounded those feelings. Mel guessed Mark would never really understand how devastated she’d been, realising he hadn’t been able to talk to her.
Dr Meadows leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled thoughtfully under his chin. ‘I know you’ve struggled with these symptoms on a previous occasion, Melissa. The road to recovery isn’t an easy one, is it?’
‘No.’ Mel agreed wholeheartedly with that. The road she’d travelled had been a long and tortuous one, full of mountains to climb and potholes to trip her up.
‘Half the battle is admitting it, of course,’ he went on. ‘People can be judgemental. It’s human nature, I’m afraid.’ He paused and sighed. ‘Don’t judge yourself through their eyes. That’s the important thing to remember. Postnatal depression is common. If only mental health issues weren’t still thought of as a stigma, I’m sure many women would admit to feeling like you do.’
Would they, Mel wondered. Weren’t new mothers their own harshest judges?
‘We have the technology, we can fix it,’ he joked, winking.
Mel relaxed a little, which was obviously what he’d intended. If only it were that easy, though. ‘A brain transplant, you mean? Perfect.’ She smiled back. It felt good to do that. When did she lose her smile?
‘A short course of antidepressants initially, I think,’ he said. ‘Counselling possibly, if you feel the need to talk. It might help. Is your husband supportive, Mrs Cain?’
‘Yes,’ Mel answered hesitantly. ‘But… he’s been down this road before too.’ She let it hang.
He nodded. ‘If you don’t mind my suggesting, I think you’ll find he’d like to be. He arrived enquiring after you while you were with the nurse. He’s waiting for you.
* * *
Watching Mark’s expression change as he walked across to his child, Melissa felt joy tinged with unbearable, palpable pain. It felt as if her heart might tear apart inside her. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t Mark’s fault. It was her. Her problem. Her stupid, dysfunctional brain.
And now, where once he had been free to walk away, he would feel obliged to stay, because his love for Evie and Poppy was unequivocal. But could he really cope with this? Again?
‘Hey, little miracle,’ he said, taking Evie carefully into his arms and gazing wondrously down at her, as if he couldn’t quite believe her. Mel swallowed a tight lump in her throat.
‘She’s beautiful,’ the nurse said, sighing audibly as Mark bent to place a soft kiss on Evie’s forehead.
Mark smiled, the kind of warm, adoring smile fathers reserve for their children. ‘Like her mother,’ he said throatily, turning to face Mel.
Seeing the love in his eyes, peppered with crushing anxiety, Mel caught a sob in her throat. She had to get better. For Mark’s sake, for her children’s sake, she had to get well.
Thirty-Three
MARK
Unfastening Evie’s car seat, Mark lifted her out, and then breathed a sigh of relief as Mel’s car turned into the drive.
‘Here she is, baby,’ he said softly, waiting for Mel to pull up before he went inside. He couldn’t stay. Lisa had covered for him, but he needed to get back soon. He wished Jade was home. He wished to God Mel wouldn’t insist on driving. The last thing Mark wanted was for Mel to think he was trying to take away her independence, but, in his estimation, she shouldn’t be, particularly with a child in the car. She was exhausted and distracted, and he also feared that she’d started drinking during the day.
As if to demonstrate his point, Mel climbed out of her car, walked past him to the front door, and then went back for her keys. And then back for a second time for Evie’s baby bag.
‘Thanks for coming, Mark. We’ll be fine now,’ she said, walking past him again to unlock the front door. She reached for Evie’s carrier, as if expecting him to hand it over and go back to work.
‘I’ll bring her in.’ Mark smiled and stepped towards the house.
Mel nodded tightly, but moved aside, allowing him to carry Evie through. ‘Shall I take her up?’ he asked, as Mel followed him into the hall.
‘No.’ Mel returned his smile, but still she seemed miles away. ‘I thought I’d have her with me in the kitchen for a while. I’ve missed her company.’
Mark hesitated, thinking that Evie might be tired after all the excitement, which would probably make her fractious later.
‘I’ll take her up in a little bit,’ Mel said, pulling off her coat.
Mark nodded and carried Evie through to the kitchen, heading for the island in the middle of the room, where he hesitated again. Would she be all right parked up there? Of course she would, he chastised himself. Mel wasn’t likely to accidentally knock baby plus sizeable car carrier onto the floor. Still, though, he pushed the seat well into the centre of the work surface.
‘Have the assessors been yet?’ Mel asked, coming in after him as Mark eased Evie out of her coat.
‘Sorry?’
‘The fire assessors. I wondered if Jade had managed to get the go-ahead on the work to her house?’
Mark tried to think. He’d noticed that Jade didn’t seem to show much interest in the house. She’d barely been near the place. But then, it couldn’t be easy sifting through the burned-out remnants of your life, future plans turned to ashes. ‘A couple of weeks ago, I think. She said she was getting some estimates together. Why?’
‘No reason. I just wondered.’ Mel shrugged, looking preoccupied as she walked across to the kettle. ‘Do you like it?’ she asked out of the blue, leaving Mark struggling to keep up.
‘Like what?’ Checking Evie didn’t need changing, he headed for the fridge for her water.
‘My hair.’ Mel turned to him, her pretty green eyes awash with wo
rries Mark had no clue about and felt powerless to help her with.
He looked her over, noting her pale complexion, which the hair colour did nothing to improve. ‘Truthfully,’ he said, hoping he wasn’t about to put his foot in it, ‘I prefer your natural colour.’
Seeming unperturbed, Mel nodded. ‘Coffee?’ she asked, turning away.
‘No. Thanks.’ Concerned at the seemingly random conversational leaps, Mark watched her carefully. ‘I have to get to work.’
‘Sorry. Yes, of course you do.’ Mel paused. ‘I’m thinking of changing it back.’
The hair, Mark assumed. ‘Good idea,’ he said, going back to Evie, who Mel hadn’t so much as glanced at since she’d come in.
‘Would you lie to me, Mark?’ Mel asked, completely out of left field.
‘Never,’ Mark answered straight off. In actual fact, he felt he was lying, right there, going along with her insistence in ignoring the elephant in the room. He wanted to talk to her about what was happening, not skirt around the issue, having this stilted, staccato conversation. How could he hope to help her if she wouldn’t confide in him? ‘Where did that come from?’
Mel ignored that, too. Or maybe she hadn’t heard him. From the impassive expression on her face, Mark wasn’t sure. Making her coffee in silence, she wandered to the back door, opened it and went out to sit at the patio table.
Minus coffee. Mark noticed it still sitting on the work surface. ‘Back in a minute, sweetpops.’ Evie seeming to have satisfied her thirst, he grabbed a paper towel to mop up the drips, and then followed Mel out with her drink.
‘I have to go soon, Mel,’ he reminded her, placing the coffee on the table and checking his watch, debating whether he should ring in and claim some emergency. But how many times could he do that? Perhaps he should keep it up his sleeve, in case there was another day when Mel needed him more. He shook off the thought. ‘Will you be all right?’
She didn’t respond.
‘Mel?’
‘Yes, fine,’ Mel said, looking up at him but not seeming to see him.
‘Evie’s had some water,’ he tried, wishing she would talk to him; wishing that by some miracle this would all go away.
Mel smiled. ‘Good,’ she said.
Exasperated, Mark glanced back to the kitchen, where Evie was on her own, content for the moment, though he doubted she would be for long. He wasn’t happy about leaving her there and Mel out here. ‘Will Jade be back soon?’
‘Should be,’ Mel said. ‘She went to the dentist with a tooth. She’s picking Poppy up on the way.’
A toothache, Mark presumed. And she must be picking Poppy up from school on the way home, not the way there. Growing more concerned at Mel’s emotionless responses, Mark pulled out a chair to sit opposite her. ‘Are you okay with the medication, Mel? The antidepressants?’
Mel answered with an indifferent shrug.
‘Have you taken any? Your first dose, I mean.’
Mel’s answer this time was a shake of her head.
And yet, she seemed more out of it than ever. Frustrated, Mark pressed on. ‘Do you think it’s a good idea to drive on them, Mel?’ He had to broach the subject of her driving, whether she might think he was being controlling or not. His only other option was to take the car keys, and he really did not want to do that.
Mel looked at him at last, guardedly. ‘If I felt I couldn’t drive, I wouldn’t.’
Mark nodded. ‘You’ll have to report it to the DVLA if it does affect your driving.’
Mel frowned, and then shrugged again, as if only half-interested, which increased Mark’s apprehension. So, what now? This was getting him nowhere.
Deciding he had no other option, Mark breathed in deeply and took the bull by the horns. ‘And you’ll avoid alcohol, yes?’
‘Avoid…?’ Snapping her gaze to his, Mel searched his face. ‘Are you serious?’ She laughed incredulously.
Mark held her gaze. ‘Deadly,’ he assured her. He would do anything and everything for her. He believed, hoped, that she knew that to be true. Risking his children, though, was something he couldn’t do.
‘Since when did getting drunk, once, for the first time in I don’t know how long, become a criminal offence?’ She stared at him, her expression somewhere between bemused and angry.
‘Spectacularly drunk,’ Mark reminded her, for want of a better word.
‘Yes, spectacularly!’ Mel’s voice rose. ‘And I’m sorry I embarrassed you. Sorry that, for whatever reason, I couldn’t handle it, but… Oh, for God’s sake, Mark. How many times am I supposed to apologise? I haven’t had so much as a sip of wine since.’
‘Right.’ Mark sighed, heavily. He hadn’t expected her to admit it, but he’d hoped she wouldn’t deny it outright.
‘What does that mean?’ Mel asked, her anger obviously escalating.
Mark ran a hand over his neck. ‘Nothing. I’m just concerned, Mel, that’s all.’
‘About me driving while taking medication?’
‘Obviously.’ Mark locked eyes with her. Mel’s gaze was fiery, her eyes slightly bloodshot. He studied her, noting her pupil reaction time seemed to be slowed, and steeled his resolve. ‘I don’t want you taking risks while—’
‘Driving under the influence of alcohol?’ Mel finished furiously.
‘Both of the above,’ Mark supplied disconsolately.
‘I don’t drink and drive!’ Mel snapped, her tone now aggressive. ‘I never have!’
Tugging in a terse breath, Mark squeezed the bridge of his nose hard with his thumb and forefinger.
‘Mark?’ Mel waited for him to answer, but he couldn’t say what he truly felt: that he couldn’t trust her, and it was killing him.
‘I don’t bloody believe this!’ Mel shoved her chair back and stormed into the kitchen. ‘Why don’t you bloody well breathalyse me and be done with?’
Berating himself on his abysmal handling of the situation, Mark hurried after her.
His heart dropped as he watched her banging around, opening cupboards. All of the fucking cupboards.
‘Take a look,’ she said. ‘Go on!’
‘Mel, don’t.’ He glanced towards Evie, who had been startled by the loud crashing of doors opening and shutting.
‘Don’t forget the fridge.’ Mel marched over to it, yanking that open too. ‘I mean, I’m bound to have a bottle chilling in there for…’ She stopped, staring hard at the contents, and then slammed the door shut. ‘Fuck!’
Mark bit back his own anger. He wasn’t sure where this was going, but wherever it was, it wasn’t happening in front of Evie.
‘Who turned the fridge off?’ Mel yelled, as he walked across to her.
Mark stopped, confused. ‘What?’
‘The fridge. It’s off at the wall!’ Mel waved a hand in the direction of the socket and then reached for the freezer door. ‘Shit,’ she muttered. ‘Shit, shit… shit!’
Oh Christ. ‘Mel…’ Hearing the sob in her throat, and realising immediately what was wrong, Mark started towards her. But he stopped as Jade came in, with Poppy, wide-eyed and wary, holding tight to her hand. She was holding a goldfish in her other hand, Mark noticed, his heart sinking further as he realised his little girl’s bubble was about to be rudely burst.
‘What’s happened? Mark? Mel?’ Obviously puzzled, Jade trailed off.
Mark held up a quieting hand. Then, seeing Jade had understood, he nodded towards Evie and then went over to Mel.
‘It’s ruined,’ she said, crying now in earnest. ‘All of it.’
Mark reached out, gently stroking her back, attempting to ease her towards him. He had no idea what else to do. He couldn’t fix this.
‘Why is Mummy crying?’ Poppy asked Jade in a worried whisper.
‘I think she has a headache,’ Jade answered quietly, moving towards Evie, who was now demonstrating her distress vocally.
Mark nodded his appreciation and tried to comfort Mel, but she was fighting him, pulling away from him. ‘Did you do it?’
she asked, swinging around to level an accusing gaze at Jade.
‘Do what?’ Jade looked confusedly from Mel to Mark. ‘I’m not sure, I…’
‘The freezer,’ Mark explained, feeling worn out already, to his very bones. ‘Someone’s switched it off.’
‘Not me.’ Jade looked alarmed. ‘At least I don’t think I—’
‘Well, someone did!’ Mel snapped, causing both Jade and Poppy to step back.
Glancing at Jade apologetically, Mark wrapped an arm around Mel’s shoulders. ‘It was an accident, Mel,’ he said softly, aware of how distraught she would be. Determined to breastfeed Evie, she’d expressed milk religiously every day, making sure the freezer was always stocked up.
‘It’s all ruined,’ Mel said again, her sobs stilling to a shudder as she heaved air into her lungs.
‘I’m so sorry, Mel.’ Mark tried to pull her closer, but Mel didn’t want to be held. Didn’t appear to want him near her. Her body language was stiff, her emotions all stuffed precariously inside. Like a watch spring, Mark felt, wound way too tight and ready to uncoil in an instant.
‘It’s okay.’ She drew in a shaky breath. ‘I was going to wean her anyway. I can’t feed her myself now, can I? That would really be putting my child at risk, wouldn’t it? You’ll be pleased to know I’m in possession enough of my faculties to have thought that one through, Mark.’
The medication. Mark squeezed his eyes closed. Dammit. It hadn’t even occurred to him, but it had to Mel. And she was devastated. She shrugged him off and walked away.
Mark hesitated for a second and then, hearing her climbing the stairs, he moved to go after her. He couldn’t leave her, not like this.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jade said tearfully, as he walked past. ‘I honestly don’t think I did switch it off, but if I did…’
Noting how crestfallen she looked, as if holding herself responsible, Mark stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘It was an accident,’ he repeated firmly. ‘Anyone could have inadvertently knocked the switch.’ Even Mel. In her present state, Mark had to concede that she might have done it herself.
The Babysitter: A gripping psychological thriller with edge-of-your-seat suspense Page 15