by Karen Clarke
Maybe you do need help. The voice in my head sounded a lot like my mum’s and I suddenly wanted to see her so much, I felt an ache in my chest.
‘What’s wrong?’ Liv had stopped.
I realised I was motionless, staring into the distance. ‘Nothing, just—’
‘Oh, isn’t he a sweetheart?’ An elderly woman with a bird’s nest of white hair had paused to peer at Finn, nostalgia written all over her weathered face. ‘He’s the spit of my William at that age.’ She gave Liv a gap-toothed smile. ‘You’re a lucky woman,’ she said, before moving on with dainty steps, pulling a tartan shopping trolley behind her.
‘Thank you!’ Liv called after her, smiling as though Finn was actually hers.
My mouth had fallen open, ready to form a protest, but nothing came out except my breath, misting the air in front of me. I shivered, huddling deeper into my coat, something close to hysteria threatening to bubble over. ‘I’d like to go home.’ I sounded hostile.
Liv turned, as if startled at my tone. ‘Sure, let’s go.’ She turned the pushchair, bumping over the grass verging the narrow path. ‘Come on, I’ll race you!’
‘What?’ Confused, I watched as she took off, hair swinging, heels kicking up as she headed through the park gates, steering the pushchair like a dodgem car.
‘Wait!’
I hurried after her, weaving through a throng of schoolchildren clutching clipboards and pens, being assembled by a couple of harassed-looking teachers.
‘I’m not the runner I used to be,’ I said, panting as I caught up with Liv on the pavement, trying to make a joke of her sudden dash while I bent to check on Finn. He was fast asleep, eyelids fluttering with dreams, his lips slightly parted. ‘Shall I take over?’
‘It’s OK, we’re almost there now.’
Tightening her grip on the buggy, Liv fixed her eyes on the street ahead with an almost defiant tilt to her jaw. I hoped I hadn’t upset her. Coming from a difficult situation with Evie’s parents, the last thing I wanted was for her to think we were just as bad.
‘We’ll have a drink at home,’ I said, lengthening my stride. ‘Hot chocolate if you like, and I’ll tell you about the time I bumped into Jude Law at the television centre.’
She threw me a half-hearted smile. Maybe she wasn’t a fan.
‘Sounds good,’ she said, looking over her shoulder as we crossed the road leading to The Avenue. ‘Was … was Dom OK this morning?’
I suddenly thought I understood why she was jumpy. She was worried that after meeting Dom yesterday, we might have changed our minds about letting her help with Finn.
‘Oh, he was fine.’ I recalled how he’d thrown himself into the car earlier; how he hadn’t said goodbye before driving off, or made me coffee. Was he fine? He’d said he was happy for me to do what I thought was best, but something felt off. ‘Honestly, Liv, don’t worry about him,’ I said, with a confidence I didn’t feel. Liv didn’t look reassured. A nerve jumped in her temple, and she looked like she was grinding her teeth, but before I could say something convincing, I noticed a car parked outside our house. For a second, I thought it was Elizabeth’s black Range Rover, but as we drew closer, a woman who clearly wasn’t my mother-in-law stepped out of the driving seat.
‘Sophy Pemberton?’ She slammed the car door and adjusted the leather bag thrown across her body. Despite her duffel coat and hand-knitted Dr Who style scarf, she had an officious air that sent a sick swipe through my stomach.
‘I’m Sophy Pemberton,’ I said, realising she’d looked automatically at Liv. ‘Who are you?’
She fished out an identification tag and handed it over. Tess Bowman. The photo was clearly the round-faced woman in front of me, though her greying curls were covered by a crimson beret. There was a number on the tag that I didn’t take in as my breathing grew shallow, my vision blurring on the words written above. I was aware of Liv frozen beside me, her knuckles white around the handle of the pushchair, and the sense that behind all the windows of the houses on the street, eyes were peering at me.
‘As you can see, Mrs Pemberton, I’m from social services.’ Tess’s eyes were pale and inquiring, her cheeks crimson with broken veins. ‘Can we talk inside?’ She nodded towards the house. ‘We’ve had a report about a child being neglected at this property.’
Chapter 19
Sophy
Once inside the house, Tess turned in the doorway to watch Liv’s departure. ‘Friend?’
‘Nanny, actually.’ I lifted Finn from his pushchair, hoping Tess couldn’t see my hands shaking.
‘You have a nanny?’ She sounded surprised. The news clearly hadn’t fitted with whatever she’d expected to find: a baby at home alone, surrounded by squalor while the parents were out drinking, perhaps. ‘She doesn’t live in?’
‘No.’ I strived to keep my tone even. It was important to give the illusion I was calm and in control. Or would that look suspicious – as if I was trying too hard? ‘She has family nearby, she lives there.’ No need to tell Tess that Liv had only just started. ‘Can I ask who reported us?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not allowed to discuss that.’ Tess’s thin lips stretched into a smile as I wrestled Finn out of his outdoor clothes. At least he seemed content to be in my arms for once. Freed of his padded all-in-one, he beamed. I pressed my lips to his cheek, which was surprisingly warm.
‘It’s a bit chilly in here,’ I said with a shiver, as though Tess was a friend, popped round for a chat. ‘I thought I’d left the heating up.’ I fiddled with the thermostat on the wall, my hand not quite steady. ‘Can I make you a cup of coffee?’
‘No, thank you.’ Tess held out her arms. ‘I’ll hold baby shall I, while you take your coat off, then we can talk.’
It didn’t feel like a question. I handed Finn to her, aware she was probably checking him over, looking for evidence of neglect. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought.
‘I should ring my husband,’ I said, missing the hook so my coat pooled on the floor, blood rushing to my head when I bent to pick it up. ‘I’d like him to be here.’
‘No need.’ Tess bounced Finn in a comfortable way that spoke of years of experience. ‘If I have any concerns, I might need to speak to him, but for now, I’d like to talk to you.’
‘Is this … is it specifically about me?’
The split-second hesitation before she inclined her head towards the living room door told me the answer was yes. The nauseous feeling intensified as I led her to the sofa. She settled easily before handing Finn back, her pale eyes taking everything in as she unwound her scarf and undid the toggles on her coat.
I could have sworn the room had been reasonably tidy before I left the house and was horrified to see it was a tip. The laundry basket was on the dining table, trailing clothes, cushions were scattered everywhere, and hadn’t I pulled the curtains back earlier? Finn’s toy box was tipped on its side, the contents spread over the floor, and several books had been inexplicably pulled off the shelf and piled by the armchair. I noticed with a shock that my wedding photo was face down on the mantelpiece, and the family portrait on the wall by the window was hanging at an angle. I couldn’t recall putting the TV on either, but it was glowing with a daytime quiz show, the volume muted.
‘I’m so sorry about the mess,’ I stammered, placing Finn in his bouncer before opening the curtains and switching the TV off, stumbling as my foot caught on a wooden train lying on its side on the rug. ‘It’s not normally this bad.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse.’ Tess’s eyes scanned the surfaces, her expression neutral. ‘Now, sit down and let’s chat.’
It was all straightforward enough, though I couldn’t contain a tremor in my voice as I answered her careful questions. Thankfully, she seemed reassured that Finn was being looked after properly, relaxing enough to pull a series of comical faces to make him smile as I held him on my lap, but throughout, all I could think was, Who? Who had done this? One of the mums from the baby group? A neighbour, but why?
What had led someone to make the assumption I wasn’t looking after my baby? I knew I stood out among the glossy residents of The Avenue and adjoining streets, that I was hardly a Stepford wife, but surely I hadn’t given anyone a reason to go this far. Yet underneath my thoughts was an oily seam of guilt, because I hadn’t exactly been doing a great job with Finn, had I?
Once Tess had left, apparently satisfied – even apologising for the intrusion – I called Dom in tears and he came home early, threatening to ring social services and demand to know who’d reported me.
‘Please don’t, they won’t tell you,’ I pleaded. ‘And it might make everything worse.’
The following morning, we faced each other across the breakfast bar, the air between us thick with tension. I knew he’d wanted to talk more the night before, but I’d gone to bed early and crashed into a deep sleep that hadn’t done much to revive me.
‘Dom, I—’ He turned away with a weary sigh, as if fed up with the drama our lives had become. I watched him hesitate in the kitchen doorway, one hand on the frame. ‘What is it?’
He looked at me with bloodshot eyes that spoke of a sleepless night. ‘Liv’s coming?’
I nodded, surprised. ‘She should be here at nine.’
‘And you’re going to the baby group this morning?’
I drank the rest of my coffee, playing for time. ‘I don’t think it was any of the mums there who reported me, if that’s what you’re thinking.’ Even as I said it, I realised I wasn’t sure at all. Something about the way Kim had assessed me during our first meeting, as if she knew something I didn’t. Watch Elizabeth. Someone had put that note through the door. Had it been the same person who reported me? Clare? It was obvious she hadn’t liked me much when she came round for dinner, and now I’d employed Liv. Maybe she’d found out and done it out of spite. ‘Look, I’m not sure I can face them today.’
‘You should go, behave normally,’ Dom said. I wondered what his definition of normal was these days. ‘If it was one of them, something will give them away.’
‘And then what?’
He pushed a hand through his hair, jaw tensed. ‘I don’t know, Sophy.’
Happy burbles crackled through the baby monitor. Finn was awake. ‘I’ll see how I feel a bit later,’ I said.
Dom nodded, seeming distracted, as though something else had occurred to him. ‘When will you get the results of your blood test?’
‘I told you, sometime next week.’ Was he weighing up whether I was safe to be left with Finn? Maybe the social worker’s visit had put doubts in his head. ‘You do trust me, don’t you?’ I said. ‘What is it, Dom?’
He briefly closed his eyes. With a small shake of his head, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his coat pocket. ‘Someone put this through the door yesterday morning.’
A shiver travelled up my spine, in spite of the heating. I belted my dressing gown tightly, aware the note about Elizabeth was still in the pocket. ‘What is it?’
He shook out the sheet of paper and held it in front of me.
As I strained forward for a better look, something tripped in my chest. It was a picture of Isaac and me at the restaurant, blown-up and grainy, but unmistakably us. I was laughing, reaching to dab spaghetti sauce off his chin, his head close to mine. It looked intimate – as though we were more than friends.
‘Dom, I … it isn’t what it looks like.’ I slid off the stool, reaching to take the sheet from him, but he scrunched it up and shoved it back in his pocket. ‘Why would …?’ My mouth was dry, my voice too high. ‘I’ve no idea why anyone would take a picture. You know Isaac and I are just friends.’
Dom’s face looked clenched. I wanted to go to him, smooth out the lines around his eyes, but what had once felt natural now seemed awkward and my arms stayed by my sides.
‘I know,’ he said, looking at the keys in his hand. ‘But clearly someone doesn’t.’
‘What?’ My hand went to my throat, groping for my butterfly necklace, feeling its loss once more. ‘You make it sound as if someone’s got it in for us.’ I paused. ‘For me.’
Something crossed Dom’s face, gone before I could decipher what it was. ‘Look don’t worry, I’ll deal with it,’ he said, in a strained attempt at a reassuring tone. ‘Just take care OK? I’ll see you later.’
‘Dom, wait …’ I reached in my pocket. ‘I got something in the post too. A note about your mum,’ I confessed. ‘It said, “Watch Elizabeth”.’
‘What?’ His gaze tightened. ‘When?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said, flushing at his sceptical expression. ‘I didn’t want to worry you.’
He held out his hand. ‘Show me.’
My fingers were raking my pocket, but the note wasn’t there. I checked the other, but found only a crumpled tissue. ‘I … it was here,’ I said, turning my pockets inside out. I looked on the floor, in case it had fallen out. ‘I definitely had it.’ Confusion ripped through me. Could I have thrown it away and forgotten?
‘This isn’t funny, Sophy.’ There was a clipped precision to Dom’s voice I’d only ever heard him use on work calls. ‘If you got a note, where is it?’
‘Well, I’m not making it up.’ Panic made me snappy as I ransacked the kitchen drawers, knowing I wouldn’t find it. ‘Maybe not everyone thinks your mum is as perfect as you do.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Dom was looking at me as though I’d finally lost my senses. ‘Mum has done nothing but look out for you since Finn was born.’
‘Only because it suits her.’ I was surprised by my bitter tone. ‘It’s Finn she’s interested in, not me. You don’t see it because you’re never here.’
‘That’s not fair.’ Dom shook his head, grim-faced. ‘Mum’s doing her best but you can’t see it because you’re not well.’
‘Maybe I’d do better if she wasn’t always hanging around, waiting for me to mess up so she can step in.’
‘If she wasn’t always hanging around as you put it, I wouldn’t dare leave the house.’
‘What?’ I spun to face him, hopeless tears welling. ‘You don’t trust me with Finn?’
He exhaled heavily, pressing a finger to the bridge of his nose. ‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘You’re taking her side.’
‘Sophy, it’s not about taking sides, it’s about doing what’s best.’
‘What if I don’t think your mother being here all the time is best?’
‘Well, she won’t be now you’ve decided a nanny can do a better job than Finn’s own grandmother can.’
I stared at him, dampness on my cheeks. ‘You always take her side.’
‘I don’t have time for this.’ There was a sense of forbearance in his tone, as if he was barely tolerating me. ‘I have to go.’
‘So, you are on her side?’
He didn’t respond, just turned and left.
‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ I yelled when the front door slammed. I ran to the window and watched him pull out of the drive and onto the road with a squeal of rubber. A car appeared out of nowhere and slowed behind him, low and sporty. It was the type Alicia Bainbridge used to drive, and her face flashed through my mind, cold and haughty, when Dom introduced me. She has a thing for me. Don’t worry, she’ll get over it. Maybe she’d have made a better wife and mother.
Upstairs, Finn whimpered and I tried to push off the weight of helplessness that had descended. I hadn’t even asked Dom what he was going to do about the photo of Isaac and me. Not that it seemed to matter anymore.
‘Hang on, little bear, I’m coming.’ I headed upstairs, the shadow of Tess Bowman trailing behind me, watching my every move. What would she have made of my exchange with Dom? ‘Let’s get you some porridge.’
By the time Liv arrived at nine o’clock, I’d fed Finn and managed to shower, pulling on clean jeans and a jumper, but hadn’t got as far as drying my hair as my argument with Dom played on
a loop in my head, prompting a fresh torrent of tears. We’d never spoken to each other like that before.
‘It’s freezing out there,’ Liv said, shaking warmth into her hands. ‘Everything OK?’ She looked from my blotchy face to my top. ‘Looks like you’ve spilt something.’
I glanced down and, stretching my jumper, saw what looked like a coffee-stain on the front. ‘I didn’t even notice.’ I blinked away the heaviness in my eyes. ‘It was a gift from my mum. I’ve never even worn it before. It’s been hanging on my wardrobe door for weeks.’
‘What happened yesterday?’ Liv said, coming inside. ‘I felt bad leaving you alone to deal with that woman on your own.’
‘It was nothing, a misunderstanding.’ I felt slow and treacly as she moved around quickly, slipping her coat off, waving at Finn in his highchair and tucking her hair behind her ears, seemingly all at once. I’d almost forgotten how it felt to be refreshed and alert, my trip to London already a distant memory, the heated exchange with Dom taking on a surreal quality. Tiredness seeped in, dragging at my limbs, slowing everything down. ‘She didn’t stay very long and won’t be taking it any further.’
‘Who do you think reported you?’ Liv’s eyes dipped to my throat and I realised I was feeling for my necklace again.
‘I’ve no idea.’ I headed into the kitchen and moved my mug into the sink. I should check the tumble dryer, see if I had a clean top I could put on, but it felt like too much of a slog. ‘Maybe it was someone’s idea of a joke.’ I wanted to change the subject, but before I could speak again there was the rattle of a key in the front door. Turning, I watched a frown cross Liv’s brow and realised who was letting herself in.