by Lynda Renham
‘Hi Sharni, come in,’ says Chris as he opens the door.
‘You’re not eating are you?’ I ask.
‘No, we’re finished.’
He leads me into the living room. There’s no sign of Sweet Pea. I imagine she’s put him down for the night.
‘I’ve been meaning to congratulate you on your news. Tom said your company landed a big contract.’
He smiles proudly.
‘Yes, it’s in Amsterdam.’
‘And you’re going there in a few days?’
‘Yeah, I’ve got to meet the contractors. I’m looking forward to it.’
He looks up to the ceiling.
‘Clare’s in the bath, do you want me to …?
‘Oh no, I just wanted to say I’m really sorry but the photos I took of you and Ben didn’t come out. The memory card got corrupted. I’m so sorry …’
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ he says, looking at the photos of Ben on the wall.
‘I’m really sorry,’ I repeat.
‘It’s okay, honestly,’ Chris replies. ‘It all went a bit pear-shaped in the end anyway. I’m not sure if Clare would want them now anyway.’
There’s a creek on the stairs and we both look up. Clare stands barefoot, a white towel draped around her wet body. Her eyes meet mine. I find it hard to hide my feelings.
‘I just thought I’d tell you both that the memory card must have got corrupted. The photos didn’t come out. I’m really sorry.’
‘That’s a shame,’ repeats Chris, looking up at Clare.
Clare doesn’t speak. Her silence is disarming.
‘Tom and I were wondering if you’d like to come over for a drink tomorrow night. Tom feels he said a few things he shouldn’t have.’
‘That’s nice of you but we’re going out tomorrow. It’s our wedding anniversary,’ says Chris.
‘Oh, of course, I’d forgotten.’
I hadn’t forgotten at all. I don’t offer to babysit. There’s little point.
‘Thanks,’ says Chris.
‘I’ll see Ben tomorrow,’ I say.
‘Yes,’ says Chris.
Clare glares at him and then goes back upstairs. I follow her with my eyes and then turn to Chris.
‘I hope she feels better soon,’ I say and walk to the front door.
*
Clare doesn’t bring Ben the next day. Chris sends an apologetic text saying he hopes we can work things out when he returns from Amsterdam. I see Kathryn arrive at their house. No doubt she has broken up for the Christmas holidays. I wave to her and she waves back. I spend the morning getting everything organised and then leave the house for my hair appointment.
I’ll spend the afternoon getting everything ready. The day I had been waiting for is almost here. I don’t want there to be any mistakes.
Chapter Forty-Five
I flick through an old copy of OK! My eyes scan the numerous photos of glamorous celebrities and royals.
‘I think you’re done,’ says Maria, taking a peek under the foil.
I watch in wonderment as she blow-dries my hair. My skin seems to look smoother with the new colour.
‘It really suits you,’ says Maria. ‘You should have had this colour before.’
‘I used to be this colour,’ I smile.
‘It suits your complexion,’ says Maria, holding up the mirror to show me the back. ‘In fact, you look really different.’
I slip on my glasses and glance out of the window at the heavy rain.
‘Are you driving?’ Maria asks, slipping the black nylon overall off me.
I nod.
‘I hate driving in the rain,’ says Maria. ‘Do you want another tea before you go?’
‘No, I’m fine.’
‘Watch out for floods won’t you?’
My heart sinks at her words and when I stand up I’m surprised to feel my legs are weak. I grab Maria by the arm to stop myself falling.
‘You need to drink more water with it,’ Maria jokes.
My mind rushes back and for a few moments I can’t move.
‘I need to go back,’ I said and struggled to get out of bed. My legs gave way and I had to grab the police officer to support myself.
‘You’re not going anywhere Sharni,’ she said, helping me back into bed. ‘Let me get the nurse.’
‘I don’t need the nurse,’ I snapped. ‘I want my baby.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
Her name was Lucy. She kept saying how sorry she was. I wanted to tell her it was my fault not hers and she didn’t have to keep saying sorry. They told me I had lost control of the car. It went over the bridge, they said. They think I crawled out of the car before it did, but …
‘Surely I would remember that?’ I argued.
‘You had a nasty knock on the head.’
‘Then how did I crawl out?’
No one had an answer. I hadn’t pulled Nathan out. The car had gone over the bridge and the lake was deep. The car had been submerged in water.
‘I don’t remember anything,’ I mumbled.
‘You will in time,’ Lucy assured me.
But, how could I have dragged myself from the car but not taken Nathan with me? I wouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t have left him behind. Nathan was my life. How did I get out of the car? I struggled to remember but nothing came.
Someone found me lying on the roadside. He rescued me. He came to visit me in the hospital but I cross-examined him so much that he said he couldn’t come again. He didn’t see a baby, he’d said. The car was in the water when he’d found me. They’d lifted the car out of the lake five days later and I’d hoped that Nathan’s body would be in it, but it wasn’t. They had frogmen search the lake but couldn’t find the body and this had given me hope. Perhaps it was a good sign. Perhaps someone had rescued him. Surely they would tell the police soon. But no one ever did.
Tom had packed everything away by the time I was discharged from hospital. It was as if we’d never had a child. Nathan’s bedroom had changed back to Tom’s office. I sat in the rocking chair looking into space. I put my camera away and turned down all the work that was offered. Rachel visited but I barely spoke to her. Every night I lay awake trying to remember. The doctor gave me tranquillisers but I avoided taking them. He suggested counselling but I shook my head. I tried to remember crawling out of the car but I had no memory of it. Mum came to stay and we went for long walks. She said I was trying too hard.
‘Let it come naturally. You won’t remember if you force it,’ she’d said.
I didn’t want a funeral. Lucy said I should, she said it would give me closure.
‘Maybe someone rescued him,’ I said.
‘They would have reported it,’ said Lucy.
I started to hate her. Every thread I hung on to she would snap with one of her common sense replies.
‘She’s right,’ said Tom, ‘we need to move on.’
The funeral didn’t seem real. I listened to people talking about what a wonderful mother I was and how much Nathan would be missed. I thought how in a moment in time my life was destroyed.
Rachel tried to encourage me to go back to work. I reluctantly took my camera out of the cupboard. We went to the beach and it was there I began to remember. It came in dribs and drabs but I remembered fragments, flashbacks, and they weren’t what the police had described.
Chapter Forty-Six
Clare didn’t want to ruin the anniversary dinner but she couldn’t stop thinking about those naked photos of Chris.
‘I can’t decide,’ Chris says, studying the menu.
‘Well, you never were good at decisions,’ Clare says.
He looks up at Clare and closes the menu.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asks, fighting back a sigh.
She closes her own menu and slaps it down on to the table.
‘I saw the photos Sharni took of you,’ she hisses.
Chris groans.
‘I thought she said they never came out.’
Clare’s head snaps up.
‘You admit it then?’
He sighs.
‘She took photos of me and Ben and …’
‘Ben wasn’t in these …’
‘She said she wanted to set it up …’ he falters. ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t comfortable about it. But she wanted to get the light and stuff right before bringing Ben in. How did you see them anyway? She said they never came out.’
‘She must have lied again,’ Clare scoffs. ‘I saw them in the house.’
He stares at her.
‘You surely don’t still think I’m in the least interested in her?’
‘I don’t know what to think any more.’
He reaches for her hand across the table.
‘I’m not having an affair with Sharni. I don’t know why she lied about the photos.’
‘She lies all the time,’ Clare sighs. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘It’s just … well you’re going away and I feel a bit anxious.’
‘I’m only away for four nights.’
‘I know.’
‘Anyway, I thought Sharni was the reason you were anxious. You’ve got Kathryn to have Ben this week haven’t you?’
She nods and wonders how he could be so unaware. He sighs and tops up his glass with wine.
‘Seems a shame to have to lay out money when …’
‘I don’t want her.’
‘Okay. Maybe you’ll feel differently after the holiday.’
‘Chris, I’m not going to.’
He holds his hand up.
‘Okay. I’ll ask Sharni why she said the photos hadn’t come out. Maybe they didn’t come out as she’d hoped and she didn’t want to share them.’
Clare huffs.
‘Not tonight Clare. Can’t we have one night where you don’t go on about your stupid imaginings?’
Clare takes a gulp of wine and forces herself to calm down.
‘Are you still cutting back on the diazepam?’ he asks.
She nods but avoids his eyes. The truth is she hadn’t been. Every time Sharni had Ben, Clare found herself feeling edgy and needed to take one to keep calm. Although one didn’t seem to be working as well as it did and she now often has to take two.
‘If you’d only let me talk about what’s worrying me,’ she says, attempting to keep her voice soft.
The waiter approaches and Clare sighs. Typical, and just when she was getting somewhere.
‘I’d like to spend one evening with you where we don’t talk about Sharni,’ Chris says, topping up his glass again.
Can’t you see what she’s doing? Clare wants to scream. Can’t you see that she’s trying to steal everything from me? And I have no idea why.
‘Do you know what you’re having?’ he asks.
‘The chicken.’
‘We’ll both have the garlic chicken with roast potatoes please.’
He lifts his glass.
‘To us, and to a great Christmas,’ he says, kissing her hand in that moment she felt like everything would be okay. She won’t think about who’ll have Ben after the holidays. Maybe she could even get a teaching job somewhere else. Who knows what the New Year holds, and if the worst comes to the worst, there is the nursery in Knightsbridge.
*
‘It’s a nice house.’
Clare feels slightly bad at getting the house valued the first day Chris is away but it seemed the perfect time. School had broken up and it gave her time to clean.
She’d read in a magazine that the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread helps to sell a home. Although, the only thing Clare really cared about right was getting the right price. She’d spent the morning polishing furniture and scrubbing floors. The house was spotless and smelt of coffee and Pledge.
‘You’ve made it cosy,’ says the estate agent, glancing at the back garden.
‘Thank you.’
‘Why are you moving?’
It’s a reasonable question but she can’t possibly say it’s because her neighbour is a raving lunatic who’s trying to steal her life.
‘We want something bigger,’ she lies.
He looks at Ben.
‘Ah, a bigger family, yeah, I know the feeling.’
She nods but it feels like a knife has just stabbed her heart. It’s such a flyaway comment. Just because she has a child it doesn’t mean she can have more.
‘The three of you at the moment, is it?’
‘Yes.’
There’s no need to mention that Chris is away and has no idea that she’s putting the house on the market. Chris is still hoping she’ll change her mind about Sharni. You’ll feel better once the holiday is over he’d said, but all she wants is to get as far away from Sharni as possible.
‘You’ll get a good price,’ says the estate agent as he measures the walls.
‘Oh good,’ says Clare.
‘How soon do you want it to go on the market?’
‘As soon as possible really, although we don’t want any ‘For Sale’ signs outside.’
‘Ah, that really does help a house get seen.’
‘All the same, we’d prefer not to have one.’
‘Not a problem. I’ll send our valuation in the post and if you want to go ahead, let us know. You have another property to go to then?’
‘No, not yet but we can always rent. It’s important to us to get a buyer.’
‘Great, I’ll be in touch then.’
Clare lets out a sigh of relief. Surely Chris will agree it’s for the best.
Chapter Forty-Seven
It’s her first night without Chris and Clare feels edgy. Ben had settled quickly tonight. Clare feels sure being with Kathryn is much better for him. He doesn’t get so unsettled after being with her. She takes one last look at him and then runs a bath. The warmth will relax her tense muscles. She’s relieved it was the last day of school yesterday. At least now she doesn’t have to worry about who will look after Ben for the next two weeks.
The teachers are meeting for Christmas drinks tonight.
‘Do come,’ Helen had pleaded.
Clare had excused herself by saying there was no one to watch Ben. The truth was she didn’t want to go out drinking and she hadn’t really forgiven Helen for siding with Sharni. Although the thought of some company, especially as Chris was away, was appealing.
She pours lavender oil into the steaming water and sniffs the calming scent. It is 7 p.m. – enough time to relax and read her book. She grabs her copy of The Lovely Bones and slips into the hot water. She’ll give herself forty-five minutes of total relaxation. Surely that will help disperse the presentiment of doom she’d felt all day.
*
Clare jolts forward. She must have dozed off. She stiffens and strains her ears. Did Ben cry? Is that what disturbed her? The Lovely Bones sits on the side of the bath. There’s only silence and she relaxes back into the warm bath water.
She strokes her hand gently over her belly and feels tears well up in her eyes. She again thinks of Ben and shakes her head. Poor Sharni, is she unable to have children, she wonders? But she shouldn’t hate Clare just because she has a child. Has it turned her head? It’s understandable. After all, hadn’t Clare been there herself? She shakes her head to block the memories but they’re determined to haunt her. She thinks of the diazepam in the cabinet and feels her heart flutter with anxiety. How can there only be twelve tablets left? She can’t possibly ask Dr Rawlins for more, not this soon. She trembles at the thought of being without them. She’d been trying to cut back and felt sure she had been doing well, which doesn’t explain why the number of pills has gone down so quickly. She can’t discuss it with Chris. He’ll only accuse her of taking more than she should. She climbs from the bath and reaches for the towel she had thrown over the sink and glances at the bathroom cabinet before opening the door. The bottle of diazepam beckons to her. She’ll just take one to calm her down. A little hiccup sound comes from the baby monitor and Clare smiles. She reheats the bath water and
steps back in allowing herself to relax as the diazepam takes effect.
Her mind drifts and memories of her baby overwhelm her. He was such a beautiful baby. The last two months of the pregnancy had been very difficult. The pre-eclampsia had made it almost impossible. But she’d done it. They’d done it.
‘We would not recommend another pregnancy,’ the doctor had advised. ‘It would be a considerable risk for you’.
She thinks of the photos of her baby in the bedside cabinet drawer. She’d not been able to look at them. Maybe she will be able to once they’ve moved. She won’t have to worry about Sharni. They’ll buy a nice house where there is a good nursery. Perhaps she’ll become a childminder. It would be lovely to have a house full of children. Yes, that’s what she’ll do. She’ll speak to Chris about it when he gets home. It will be good for Ben to have other children around him every day. Clare feels sure Chris will see the sense in that.
There is another hiccup from the baby monitor and she leans over to turn the volume up. She decides to check on Ben to be on the safe side and wraps the towel around her again before padding barefoot along to the bedroom. Ben is curled up on his side, a small smile on his face. Satisfied, she returns to the bathroom and the luxury of her lavender scented bath. The counsellor had suggested lavender to help her sleep after the baby … she struggled to find the words in my head.
‘After he died,’ she says loudly and feels the nausea rise up within her. It had been early in the morning. Chris had still been asleep. Clare had woken with cramp in her leg. She hadn’t intended checking on the baby. She’d felt sure he was asleep. He looked so peaceful. She’d tucked his blanket around him and then her hand had brushed his tiny feet. He was ice cold. Clare had screamed until her throat was hoarse.
She shivers in the bath and forces herself to sniff the lavender. She craves another diazepam but makes herself think of something else. I must think of nice things, she tells herself. I have Ben. Everything is alright. Ben is alright. I just checked him. Nothing is going to happen. Chris will be back before I know it and then I’ll explain to him why I’d be happier if we moved. He will surely understand.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Clare had been in the bath for ages. The water is getting cold and she shivers. It is quiet. There is no sound from the baby monitor. She towels her hair dry and then massages cream into her legs, the gentle coconut fragrance washing over her. Then she hears it, the click of the bedroom door. It came from the baby monitor. It was so faint that for a moment she wonders if she had imagined it. She grabs her bathrobe from the back of the door and silently puts it on. The only sound now is the soft purring of the radiator. Her breathing quickens and she tenses her shoulder muscles before putting her ear closer to the monitor, but all is quiet again. Clare swallows and tries to calm her trembling hands. Did she imagine it? There is no one else in the house. Her heart is hammering. Carefully, she turns the door handle as if about to leave the bathroom when the monitor crackles and a soft voice says,