by Lucy Dawson
‘You need to— ATISHOO!’ she sneezed suddenly, and theatrically, making the hallway practically shake. There was a moment’s pause and then Theo wailed from upstairs.
‘Oh no…’ she said. ‘I am sorry.’
I didn’t take my eyes off her. ‘You stay right there.’ Reluctantly turning my back on her, I hurried up the stairs to shut Theo’s door before he woke Chloe too. Hurrying back down again, I found her leaning on the doorframe, letting all of the cold air in, still waiting. ‘Whatever it is you have to say to me, you have five seconds.’
She stared at me. ‘Do you have any idea how rude and condescending you are sometimes?’
‘I mean because Theo is now crying. As you can hear,’ I said.
She rolled her eyes. ‘They just wake up, Sally, it’s what babies do, despite you permanently making everyone tiptoe around on eggshells.’
‘Says the woman with all of the experience of having no children of her own.’ The words were out of my mouth before I’d even appreciated the significance of what I’d just said.
She stared at me again. ‘Well, lovely a conversation as this is, what I really want to say is: I don’t know exactly what it is that you’re planning, but go crying to your brother all you want, stamp your little foot, whisper poison in his ear from dawn till dusk if it makes you feel better. It won’t change anything. You’re not going to break us up – I am going to marry Will, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. When I want something, I get it: jobs, men, whatever…’ She smiled at me. ‘You would be very ill-advised to try and take me on.’
I probably would have dismissed such a ludicrous statement previously, I might even have laughed, but in the light of Caroline’s revelations, instead I felt the shiver of adrenaline rush through my body, and I stepped forward. ‘Are you threatening me?’
Her smile vanished and she straightened up. ‘Sorry?’
‘I don’t care who you think you are,’ I continued, my voice starting to shake. ‘Or how many crap storylines you’ve acted out, which have somehow given you the impression you can behave like that in real life. But I will tell you this – I’ll stop at nothing to protect my family. Do you understand me? Absolutely nothing.’
She didn’t say a word, just moved even closer, so she was now inches away from my face. ‘Have it your way then,’ she whispered softly as I tried not to flinch. ‘You want a fight? You just got yourself one.’
She spun on her heels so suddenly, I jumped. Heart thudding as I watched her walk to her car, I shut the door quickly – wishing I could slam it – then dashed upstairs to Theo. Mercifully, it only took me ten minutes to get him back down. Hopefully he might now do his one three-hour stretch of the night before he woke again.
Next, I crept into Chloe’s room and checked on her. She was sprawled out across her bed, the covers pushed off onto the floor. I tucked her back in and tiptoed into the hall. Caroline’s door was shut and I could see from the crack underneath it that the light was off. Everything was as it should be, but by the time I made it into my own bedroom, having silently removed my make-up, brushed my teeth, and taken a paracetamol, I was exhausted and wracked with anxiety.
You want a fight? You just got yourself one.
Trying to force Kelly from my mind, I took off my top and my grubby jeans. I automatically searched the pockets before putting them in the dirty clothes basket, only to find my note to Matthew again. I tossed it on the bedside table, then climbed into bed, thudding my head heavily down onto the pillow. I was starting to feel dizzy and sick too. I already hugely regretted drinking the champagne. I’d only had a glass and a bit, but I had no tolerance for booze any more.
I reached for my phone and, yawning, began to try to make a short list of things I needed to buy in the morning, but try as I might, Kelly kept looming back into my head. She’d deliberately engineered an excuse to come back and confront me.
Dangerously unstable.
Potentially toxic.
This, the woman my brother was going to marry, who also had an agenda that may or may not present a danger to my children. I was going to have to stay awake and talk to Matthew about this, when he got in; I couldn’t not. I would just doze, with the light on, until he got back. I closed my eyes and my mobile began to weigh heavily in my hands. He’d be back soon. He’d said he wouldn’t be late.
You want a fight? You just got yourself one.
Kelly’s whispered promise was my last conscious thought, before my eyes closed, and I was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
‘That’s absolutely everything, exactly as it happened, right up until I fell asleep,’ I say to the doctor opposite me in the small interview room at the police station. ‘So yes, I would agree that I have been under a lot of stress recently, and yes, I remember feeling unnerved when I went to bed last night – because of the argument I had with my brother’s fiancée – but I honestly don’t recall feeling suicidal, or thinking that I wanted to do anything to hurt myself.’ I swallow nervously.
The doctor says nothing, just scribbles something on her pad of paper. I wait for a moment, and when she remains silent, I start to panic and continue desperately, ‘As for the note I had in my coat pocket – the one the man found after he bundled me to the ground when I was attempting to walk down to the hotel to get help – now I’ve read all of it, I’m absolutely certain it was the one I wrote to my husband after our argument on Thursday. I can see that put in this context it looks bad – it looks very bad – but I meant I didn’t want to argue with him any more; that’s what I’d had enough of. Not life in general. I was actually saying sorry to him, not sorry for ending it all. I can see how it might seem to an outsider, though. If you didn’t know what had actually happened…’ I’m babbling. I make a huge effort to stop, reaching forward for my plastic cup and taking a mouthful of water.
‘You’re not sure how the letter came to be in your coat pocket, however?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I don’t have an explanation for that. The last time I remember seeing it, I think I was putting it on my bedside table.’ I want to add, ‘And it’s terrifying me that I have no memory of the last ten hours, and no idea what’s happened to me over that time. It’s not even a question of my not being able to remember anything, it’s more as if someone has hit a pause button I didn’t know I had, and everything else has carried on around me.’ But then I get the impression this doctor is only concerned with making sure I’m not so mentally ill I ought to be hospitalized. So I don’t.
‘OK, Sally, thank you,’ she says eventually. ‘As I explained to you at the beginning of our interview, it’s my job to assess you, because you were detained under section 136 of the Mental Health Act. I’ve concluded that I don’t believe it’s in your best interests to detain you any further. I will be in contact with your local Crisis team, so they can provide you with some ongoing support.’
‘Thank you.’ I want to cry with relief, but manage not to, mindful of my needing to appear rational and stable. ‘I just want to get back to my children.’
The kind police officer clears his throat. ‘We’ve been in touch with Kent Police, who have already attended your home because you were reported missing by your husband, at around half past eleven last night. As I said to you earlier, they have informed us that your son and daughter are safe and well. Normally what would happen next is that we would ask your nearest relative to collect you, but we are going to take you back to Kent.’
I try not to betray any emotion at all, but oh, thank God! I assumed Matthew would have to come, and by the time he’s driven here and we’ve driven back, I wouldn’t be home until late tonight – and I’m beyond desperate to see Chloe and Theo. Perhaps that’s why they are driving me, because they know I have a baby.
‘Wait,’ I say slowly, a horrible thought occurring to me. ‘You’re sure there’s nothing wrong with Theo or Chloe? That’s not why you’re taking me all the way back, so I get there as fast as possible, because there’s an emergency? No one has
hurt them, or taken them from the house? They’re not missing? You’re absolutely sure they are safe?’
The police officer looks concerned and says, ‘Yes, I’m sure. Do you have a reason to believe they are in danger?’
I hesitate. Not specifically, no. Kelly threatened me, not them, and I haven’t had a chance to talk to Caroline properly yet about the concerns she raised last night. ‘Sorry, I’m overreacting. I’m just very thrown by everything that’s happened; my being here and not knowing why. Nothing is making much sense right now. I just want to get home and see for myself that everything is OK there, even if it isn’t normal here. That’s what I meant.’
He nods, seemingly satisfied, and I fall silent, but it’s too late, the seed of doubt has been sown in my mind. Stepping out into a beautiful spring morning as we head to the car is not a relief. If someone had told me this time yesterday I’d be having several hours child-free, I might have wept with gratitude, but as I climb in, I’m unable to think of anything but Chloe and Theo. I feel sick with supressed panic. Please God, they are OK. If she has hurt them, or done anything to them at all, I will kill her. I huddle on the back seat, staring at picture perfect scenery flashing past, in silence. How can I not remember being driven by a stranger in the opposite direction, mere hours ago? There’s not even a spark of recognition. It’s terrifying. And what the hell was that note doing in my coat? How did it get there? My fingers curl around it, now in my pocket, as I think about the waves pounding relentlessly onto the beach and my staggering around on the clifftop above them. I nearly fell. Limbs wash up all the time, that man said.
I shudder and draw my coat a little tighter around my shoulders, as out of nowhere, the image of me plunging through the air, arms outstretched, appears in my head. I imagine the freezing water closing in over my head, and have to shut my eyes to force the picture away. I couldn’t possibly have gone there deliberately to throw myself off. It’s beyond belief.
I hate my life.
I don’t know how much longer I can cope like this.
But they’re just things you say. Aren’t they?
You’ve been finding things very difficult.
I’d remember planning something like this, though. Surely? Who forgets deciding to kill themselves? And remembers nothing about actually putting that plan into action?
I snap my eyes open again.
‘Are you all right, Sally?’ the kind officer asks, and I jolt suddenly, because the open countryside dotted with cows has somehow become four-lane traffic and noise barriers.
I blink and look around me, eyes wide with confusion. ‘Where are we?’
‘The M25,’ he says, turning to look at me. ‘You’ve slept most of the way.’
What? That’s impossible! We only left Cornwall moments ago! I try to sit up, but slump again, the movement making me wince. My head feels as if someone has stamped on it, it’s pulsing with pain, and my eyes are sandpaper raw on the inside with fatigue. Instead I glance weakly at the car clock, but he’s right, it’s now 2.45 p.m. My mind might have been racing with questions, unable to switch off, but my body had other ideas, the opportunity of a quiet car, and the rumble of the road, proving too much.
‘We should be there in just under an hour.’
I attempt to focus. I might be back in time to do Chloe’s tea. It’ll have to be fish fingers, there won’t be enough time to do the chicken I had planned to roast. I wonder if Matthew took her to ballet and swimming like normal? I really hope so; she’ll have needed the diversion from my not being there. What will he have even told Chloe? Thank God Caroline was at ours. She will have helped him handle it properly, and more importantly than anything else, she will have made Chloe feel safe. Because she will be safe. She has to be. I dig my nails into the palm of my hand at the thought of my little girl, bewildered and frightened, asking where I am. Nearly there. Nearly home.
We arrive back at quarter to four. My parents’ car is on the drive – parked at an uncharacteristically odd angle that betrays an emergency arrival – but our car is nowhere to be seen. I bite my lip anxiously, and only just restrain myself from pushing past one of the policemen as he walks alongside me, so that I can run ahead.
He knocks on my own front door and we wait in the quiet of the sleepy close for someone to answer, the only noise being the nearby chugging of my neighbour Ron’s lawnmower making the first cut of the year. Ordinarily, I would probably be inside cursing Ron and the diligence of his domestic-maintenance activities, while trying to get Theo to nap.
A figure silently approaches behind the glass door, which opens to reveal Caroline. She looks strained, and tired, but gives me a kind smile as she steps to one side and says, ‘Hello, Sally,’ in a totally normal voice, as if I’ve just popped back from the shops.
She extends her hand to the police officer once we’re in the hall. ‘Hello. I’m Dr Caroline Hilman.’ She smiles again and pauses to let the doctor bit resonate. ‘I’m one of the board members of Abbey Oaks, a private provider of psychiatric support and therapy, not far from here. I’m also Sally’s mother-in-law, so I’m rather wearing two hats today. Now, I’ll just be a moment, then I’ll come back to sign any paperwork you might have.’ She speaks politely but firmly, and without waiting for an answer, leads me away.
She takes me into the sitting room, where I discover Mum and Dad sitting edgily on opposite sofas. Mum exclaims, ‘Oh!’ at the sight of me, before covering her mouth with her hand. Her face is all puffy from crying, and her eyes start to fill with tears again as she jumps to her feet and rushes across the room to pull me into her arms, stroking my hair and kissing me. ‘You’re safe now. We’ll look after you, I promise, and everything is going to be OK.’
I pull back urgently. ‘Where are Chloe and Theo?’
Mum shoots a glance at Caroline, which makes my heart momentarily fall away from my body, and I spin around to face my mother-in-law. ‘Caroline?’
‘They’re absolutely fine,’ Caroline says. ‘They’re out with Matthew, and will be back anytime now.’
‘Matthew’s got them on his own?’ I say anxiously. He’s never taken them out together before. It’s still cold enough for them both to have needed coats, and maybe even a hat for Theo.
‘It seemed sensible for Chloe not to be here when the police car arrived, and for everything to have a chance to settle down a bit,’ Caroline says reasonably, then adds gently, ‘He’ll cope.’
‘But you promise me they’re OK?’
‘You know I would never lie to you about something like that,’ she says.
‘Has Chloe asked where I am?’
‘We said you’d gone to work today. She was fine. If it’s all right, I’ll go and deal with the police, shall I?’
I nod, and she leaves the room.
I turn back to Mum, and we all just look at each other, no one knowing what to say.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Mum blurts, after a moment more. ‘Last night you told me you couldn’t cope, and I didn’t listen properly. I’m so very sorry, Sally. It’s just Theo is your second baby, and you seemed to be doing really well. Yes, you’ve been very tired, but it never occurred to me that it might be the post-natal depression you had with Chloe back again. I googled it all this morning on the way down, and the symptoms could have been written for you: crying a lot, no energy or confidence, overwhelmed, and,’ she shifts awkwardly, ‘irritable. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. I’m listening now, though, and we will help you. We’re all going to help you.’
I rub my eyes wearily. God, I feel horrendous. ‘All of those symptoms apply to every single woman who has a baby, though, don’t they?’
‘Yes, but not every woman has an emergency caesarean and nearly loses their son, like you just did with Theo. And with Chloe, you didn’t realize you were depressed, did you? It was your midwife who spotted it.’
‘She thought I had post-natal depression. I never believed I did.’
‘But then, like you said last night, you can’t rea
lly remember how you felt after Chloe was born, because you blocked it out.’ She looks at me anxiously.
‘I meant I blocked it out as in I don’t want to remember a pretty challenging part of my life. I didn’t mean I literally can’t remember it. Mum, can I just sit down a minute?’
‘Sorry, love,’ she apologizes again. ‘Of course you can. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.’
I sink down onto the sofa. ‘It’s OK. You’re not the only one with questions. I don’t understand how I can’t remember anything beyond getting into bed last night. I have no idea what happened to me for about ten hours, I don’t know how I got to Cornwall, or why I was there.’
‘Will said you were in tears last night at one point, and that at times you weren’t making much sense.’
I falter. ‘Yes, that’s true, but…’
‘You also told me you felt like you were going completely mad and weren’t sure how much longer you could cope.’ Mum’s own eyes well up again. ‘You can trust us, Sally. It’s OK. It’s OK to tell us what you went there to do.’
‘But that’s the thing. I can’t tell you because I don’t know.’
‘They said you had a letter on you,’ Mum whispers, ‘to Matthew, saying goodbye.’
I shake my head. ‘No, that really is wrong. And when Matthew gets home, I’ll prove it to you. It was this.’ I reach into my pocket and pull out the now well-worn scrap of paper. Mum shrinks back from it as if it’s cursed. ‘It’s just a note I left on his desk after a row last week. He’ll tell you. I’ve no idea how it wound up in my coat. It doesn’t make any sense.’
Caroline comes back into the room. ‘The police have gone.’ She sits down on the sofa. ‘You’re going to get a call from the Crisis team later today. They may visit in person. It depends how efficient the out-of-hours services are here.’
There’s a pause, and then I say, ‘Caroline, I was just saying to my mum and dad: this morning, I woke up in the back of a cab, and I have no idea how I got there, and yet I had the exact money to pay for it – which is both surreal and completely terrifying.’ I take a deep breath. ‘After Kelly left, I know I settled Theo, I checked on Chloe, and I saw your light was off, which is when I went to bed. Did you see or hear anything suspicious, or unusual after that?’