Baby Dear: a gripping psychological thriller

by Linda Huber

  Caro opened her handbag. She had a packet of Fruit Pastilles in here, maybe the boys would like them. ‘You can have these. If Alfie has a sore throat they might help.’

  Liam took the sweets without a word, and the younger child coughed, then beamed up at Caro.

  ‘Good luck with the maths test.’

  Caro watched as the boys disappeared into the entrance, then moved away, not sure how she felt about the encounter. Her brother’s child… It wasn’t much of a place to live, an old tenement block behind the noisiest street in Bridgehead. And left alone while Alfie’s mother was at work, too.

  Did being Liam’s aunt make it any of her business? No, she decided. But it was difficult not to feel outraged that any mother could leave a sick child at home, in the charge of another child, and go out to work. But who was she to judge? She knew nothing about them. For all she knew, there could be an aunt or a grandfather tucked away inside the house. Yes, that would be it.

  Caro moved back into the High Street and mingled with the shoppers again. Back to the real world, her world. And she was no nearer to finding out about the boy with the ecstasy. But she would keep checking – if she came back at different times she might see him someday.

  And maybe she would see Liam and Alfie again too.

  Sharon

  Sharon lay back in her hospital bed and gazed across to the see-through plastic cot. The baby was asleep, tiny hands touching just under her face, long fingers flexing every now and again, as if she were dreaming. Did babies dream? Was it possible to dream, when you knew so little of the world you’d been born into? Sharon caught her breath. How incredible it was that she should even care.

  She pressed her lips together to stop them trembling. This was the baby she hadn’t wanted. The baby who’d made its mother fat and resentful, and whose birth had frightened its father away. Craig still wasn’t answering his phone and Sharon had decided to stop trying. He knew where she was. Her blood pressure was very low and the doctors wanted to keep her in for a day or two, so she’d be well-looked-after in the meantime.

  The baby stirred and yawned, and Sharon smiled. How could she have been so distant, so uncaring towards her child? Thinking about her behaviour made her squirm now.

  Donna, the Irish nurse, came in. ‘Want to try another feed? She didn’t take much last time.’ She scooped up the baby and handed her to Sharon.

  ‘Not much of a mum, am I?’ Sharon took her daughter and kissed her, a tear trickling down her right cheek.

  ‘No reason to think that. Talk to me, Sharon. Tell me what’s wrong.’

  Sharon felt more tears gather. ‘I hated being pregnant, having my life messed up like that, and Craig felt exactly the same. He said he didn’t want kids for years, but now I think he doesn’t want them at all, and was scared to tell me. I don’t even know if our marriage will go on. But I feel different about the baby now, and I wish I could explain it to her.’

  The nurse pushed the pillow more firmly under Sharon’s elbow. ‘She’s a baby; you don’t have to explain anything to her. If you’d hated her she wouldn’t be here now.’

  Sharon looked down at the suckling child. ‘I couldn’t have got rid of her.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said the nurse. She lifted the still-blank pink name tag from the cot. ‘Has she got a name yet?’

  Sharon took a deep breath. She’d spent a long time thinking about this, because obviously it was something she couldn’t put off too much longer without looking even more of a turnip than she did already. And if Craig objected, well – tough.

  ‘Jael. J–a–e–l. After my godmother.’

  The nurse printed the name carefully and replaced the tag on the top end of the cot.

  Sharon stared at the baby. This is my daughter Jael. She would say that many times over the years, but how unreal it sounded today. But her daughter Jael would be part of her life from now on in, and Sharon was going to do her best by her. She would go to baby clinics and do baby gymnastics and make baby friends. Her maternity leave would make that perfectly possible, no matter what happened with Craig.

  Julie arrived at half past four, a large plastic bag in one hand.

  Sharon sat up. ‘What’s that?’

  Julie laughed. ‘Hello to you too!’

  Sharon smiled guiltily. ‘Sorry. Hello, Julie.’ It was amazing how comfortable she felt with Julie – thank goodness they’d met.

  Julie handed her the bag. ‘A couple of mags and the Baby Massage book I mentioned. Have a go when you get home – it’s great for calming them down.’ She pulled out the visitor’s chair. ‘Any sign of Craig yet?’

  Sharon stuck her chin in the air. ‘Nope. I’m leaving him to it. He’s a grown man; he knows what he should be doing.’

  She was grateful when Julie said nothing more, merely reaching out and squeezing her hand before going to look at the baby. ‘You’ve chosen a name! How d’you pronounce it?’

  ‘Yah-ale. It’s my godmother’s name – she’s from Switzerland. We hardly ever see her but it’s a nice name, and not one you’ll get three of in her school class later on.’ Sharon leafed through the massage book, looking at the pictures and imagining herself sitting on the sofa at home, massaging the baby by candlelight, soft music playing in the background.

  ‘I wonder if there’s a course anywhere I could go to,’ she said, and Julie nodded.

  ‘I’ll find out. We–’

  There was a knock at the door and Sharon looked at Julie. Could this be Craig? What on earth could she say to him if it was, with Julie standing there? She pulled her cardigan around her. ‘Come in!’

  ‘Hello there,’ said a deep male voice, and Sharon recognised the man from the internet café. He had a large bunch of flowers clutched in one hand, and a helium balloon with ‘Baby’s Here!’ in yellow lettering in the other.

  He presented her with both. ‘Congratulations, Sharon. I was so pleased when I heard everything had gone well, I just had to come by and see you for a minute or two.’

  Sharon allowed the balloon to float to the ceiling and stared at the bouquet. Long-stemmed red roses. Twelve of them. It seemed an excessive gesture for such a fleeting acquaintance; she couldn’t even remember his name. And what on earth did he mean, he’d heard everything had gone well? Nothing had gone well. And who told him, anyway? He was still standing there with a big bright smile stretching from ear to ear, and she blinked uncertainly.

  ‘Thank you, that’s very kind. They’re beautiful. This is my friend Julie, erm…’

  Fortunately, he introduced himself, leaning over the bed and shaking hands with Julie. ‘Jeff Horne. We met once in Cybersonics, didn’t we? I hope your little girl was none the worse for her adventure.’

  He moved over to the cot where the baby was sleeping peacefully. ‘Oh – what a little love. She’s just perfect. I’m so pleased for you.’

  Sharon cleared her throat. What was she supposed to say to that? No words were necessary, though, because he wheeled round abruptly and gazed at her, his face solemn now, and Sharon suddenly felt like giggling. He was definitely a bit of an oddball, this Jeff.

  ‘How do you feel about being a mother now, Sharon? Any better?’

  Sharon almost jumped. The question was so unexpected, coming from a virtual stranger. How did he know she’d had doubts about it? She must have said something, that day she’d been dizzy in his café. ‘Oh – fine,’ she said, trying to sound convincing and aware that Julie was biting her lip in an effort not to laugh.

  Jeff nodded. ‘Good, good. Well – I’ll leave you to it. I expect I’ll see you again soon. Take care of little Jael, won’t you?’

  Sharon nodded, lost for words. ‘Um – yes. Of course.’

  He put out a finger and touched the baby’s head for a second before saying goodbye. As soon as his footsteps were gone from the corridor Sharon caught Julie’s eye and they both laughed aloud.

  ‘Well – he’s a funny bunny and no mistake,’ said Sharon. ‘But what gorgeous roses – smell them.�
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  Julie sniffed. ‘Mm. He was the one who found Amy when some yob shifted her buggy, the day we discovered the break-in at the library. But you know, when I was in his shop, I had the impression he was unhappy about something. I mean really gutted. He was looking at Sam with an incredibly sad expression. I felt sorry for him but it was creepy, too, seeing him look at my child like that.’

  The desire to laugh ended abruptly and Sharon blinked back hot, painful tears. Jeff Horne wasn’t the only one who was gutted. ‘Oh, Julie, what am I going to do about Craig? I don’t know if I even want him to come back.’

  Julie hugged her and for a moment Sharon allowed herself to lean into her. Bloody hormones – she was all over the place. She’d always had a way with words, but now she was bawling like a baby herself. If Craig had walked out on her at any other time she’d have had his head on a plate for tea.

  Julie patted her shoulder. ‘Whatever happens, I’ll help you. And plenty of other people will too. You’ll get through this, Sharon.’

  Sharon nodded, placing the baby massage book on the locker. She would, because she had to.

  A nurse came into the room with a jug of fresh water. ‘Here you go. Oh – Sharon, I’m so sorry, but flowers aren’t allowed here. Infection control protocols and all that. Maybe someone can take them home for you?’ She eyed Julie.

  Sharon shrugged. Flowers from Jeff Horne, lovely as they were, didn’t rate highly in her life right now. ‘You have them, Julie. As a thank you for being such a good friend.’

  Julie lifted the roses. ‘Wow – are you sure? I’d love to give them a home. Talking of which, I should get my kids back to mine, and you need your rest. When will you be discharged?’

  ‘Probably Wednesday,’ said Sharon, shuddering at the thought. Home. Alone. With Jael.

  ‘I’ll be in touch, then. Fingers crossed you and Craig will sort something out.’

  Sharon waved goodbye as Julie left with the roses, their heavy perfume wafting through the air as she went. Sharon didn’t know if she was glad to see them go, or sorry. Red roses were definitely a bit OTT in the circumstances. She didn’t know the man yet here he was, visiting her like an old friend. On the other hand, at least someone was behaving like the stereotypical new father and bringing her flowers. It could be he was just rich, of course. Internet cafés were probably great little money-spinners.

  But red roses were for lovers. Sharon closed her eyes.

  Jeff

  Whistling, Jeff ran down the steps at the side of the maternity building and trotted along the path towards the car park. That had gone rather well. Sharon had obviously been overwhelmed by the flowers, and more importantly – he had seen the baby. A little girl. And she was beautiful. Dark hair and a cute little button nose. Caro would love her.

  It had been a good idea to turn up at the maternity department, clutching presents and pretending he’d forgotten his sister Sharon’s room number. Simple, but effective. The woman at the desk had told him the number without batting an eyelid. Jeff manoeuvred the car out of the car park and turned towards the bridge. He’d seen the baby and affirmed his friendship with Sharon. A good afternoon’s work.

  And the best thing of all was, she had shown him yet again how unenthusiastic she was about being a mother. ‘Fine’ was all she’d said. No happy smile or gooey eyes as she looked at the baby, just ‘fine’. It was all he needed to know – she was as unhappy as ever about the baby. The tightness in his head relaxed completely. This was going to work. And how typical; Sharon was friends with that Julie woman, the other callous mother he’d come across recently. Like calls to like, indeed.

  He would leave Sharon for a day or two now; she’d be going home soon, where things would be even more difficult for her, with no nurses to do all the work. By the time he visited her again she would be well and truly ready to hand over the baby. She would, she would, he knew she would. And Craig would too – he was even worse than Sharon. He should be in that room taking care of his wife and child, like any loving father would.

  Jeff stopped for a red light by the library, nodding and smiling broadly at the people crossing the road in front of the car. He had seen his little girl. Jael. A beautiful name for a beautiful baby. Yes, he would visit them on Friday and put forward his proposal. He might even be able to take the baby home that very same day. They would soon be a wonderful little family, him and Caro and their darling baby girl.

  Sharon

  At the midwife’s suggestion, Sharon pushed Jael in her cot into the four-bedded room next door to have dinner, ham salad with boiled potatoes. She enjoyed exchanging stories with the other women until they started to talk about their partners, then it was all she could do not to run from the table.

  Of course, they were all happily married with husbands who cooked, cleaned, took the dog out and brought home chocolates and theatre tickets every Friday. Sharon pasted a smile on her face as they tried to outdo each other with tales of domestic bliss. How futile it seemed. When they began to compare notes on how often they had sex she left them to it and returned to her room.

  Jael was asleep, and Sharon lay on her bed and stared into the Perspex crib. Funny how fascinating it was, watching your child breathe, in and out, with one hand curled under a tiny chin. Who’d have thought it; she was falling in love with her daughter, but what the hell were they supposed to do? She’d have to get a taxi back to the flat on Wednesday – she didn’t even know if Craig was still there. Sharon’s fury expanded every time she thought about him. She could have understood that he’d panicked at the birth, but that was two days ago now. Nobody panicked for two days. Craig had either vanished into the dim and distant yonder, or else he was cold-heartedly ignoring her. Whichever it was, no way was she going to forgive him. She would phone her parents to come as soon as they could. She hadn’t even told them the baby was here, which was unfair, because they’d be over the moon.

  Damn Craig. How dare he treat her like this?

  Visiting hours were nearly over when he sidled in the door. Sharon was nodding over one of the magazines Julie had brought, and the jolt she felt when she saw him was like an electric shock – and not in a good way.

  For a moment neither of them spoke, then Sharon swallowed. Whatever the outcome was, they were going to have to talk to each other. They had a child; going completely separate ways was no longer an option.

  ‘Craig. I wasn’t expecting you.’

  She saw him flinch at the irony in her voice. So he knew he’d behaved like a full-time wanker. Good.

  He stepped in and stood at the bottom of the bed. ‘I’m sorry. I should have been there for you. I just – I couldn’t face this place.’

  ‘I noticed. I didn’t have the luxury of choice, myself.’

  He nodded, his eyes sliding towards the baby in the crib and then back to her.

  Sharon took a deep breath. A civilised agreement, that was what she should aim for while she was still in here. They could throw pans at each other in the privacy of their own four walls on Wednesday.

  ‘Your daughter’s doing well. I’ve called her Jael. We’re coming home on Wednesday morning – shall I get a taxi, or will you manage to be here?’

  ‘I’ll come. We can talk at home, can’t we?’

  His voice was pleading now, almost whining, and Sharon felt her patience snap. What was he expecting her to say – there, there, it’s all right, don’t you worry? What a jerk he was being. He hadn’t even asked how she was.

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it. Ten o’clock. And now I need some sleep.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll see you on Wednesday.’ He stood at the end of the bed, hands twisting together.

  Sharon lay back against the pillows. Obviously, he wasn’t planning to visit tomorrow. So much for the happy couple – what had happened to them? Remembering how things used to be brought tears, and she closed her eyes for a moment to hide them.

  When she opened them again, he had gone.

  9

  Tuesday, 31st Mayr />
  Caro

  Caro hurried along the High Street. She had dry cleaning to pick up and bread to buy, and if she was very quick she’d have time to stick her head into Mortimer Square and see if Liam was around. How had the maths test gone? Caro remembered the way the boy’s face had brightened when he’d understood what to do with his sum – it had brightened her day, too. She had helped a little boy, and if his father hadn’t been such a scumbag to her, she could have been helping him all this time, too. But why hadn’t Liam’s teacher seen that her pupil hadn’t understood the exercise?

  She ducked into the Puff Pastry and bought a farmhouse brown. A stand of sweets by the counter caught her eye, and she put two packets of lurid green frogs beside the loaf. Just in case the boys were there. Smiling at the thought of little Alfie’s face when she produced the pastilles yesterday, Caro joined the queue to pay.

  At first she thought she’d be taking the frogs home with her, for no children at all were on the square this afternoon. She was later today, of course, the boys were probably inside with Alfie’s mother. Disappointment heavy in her gut, Caro was turning away when she saw Liam emerge from the same entrance as yesterday and plonk himself down on the doorstep. She hurried across, pleased when he looked up and smiled.

  ‘Hello, you – how did the maths test go?’

  ‘Okay, I think. We get the marks back tomorrow.’

  Caro fished in her bag for the sweets. ‘I thought you and your little friend might like these. What’s the homework tonight, then?’

  Liam accepted his treat without saying thank you and opened one of the packets. ‘English, but I’ve done it. We had to read a book to talk about in class.’

  ‘What did you read?’ Caro leaned on the wall, enjoying the conversation. What a bright little thing he was. She’d barely known him when he was younger, but then she and Rosie hadn’t exactly been invited over regularly. Christmas visits to her parents, while they were still alive, had been the sum total of Caro’s contact with Pete’s son.