His words are like a slap around the face, made worse by the fact that they are probably true. ‘It’s these tablets,’ I cry, unable to control myself any longer. ‘I’m exhausted, my skin is burning, my face is scalding and all my thoughts are jumbled up. I can’t seem to make sense of anything!’
‘No, Louisa,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘That’s not the tablets. That’s you. That has always been you!’
‘But you love me anyway. You’ll always look after me,’ I say, repeating back his own promise, suddenly vulnerable, unsure of the marriage we have tried so hard to build.
He tips the whiskey down his throat in one swift manoeuvre, his eyes burning with an emotion I can’t quite place. ‘I’m not sure if I can any more, Lou. I can’t protect you from yourself!’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Louisa
Now
‘Shhh, come to me. We can be a family. The three of us together.’
I blink up at his wide grin, his teeth a little wonky. Flaming red hair hangs over one eye like a patch, the visible eye reflecting a familiar soul.
He reaches out towards me, his fingers soft as they slide through my silky hair, fingering the naked skin behind my ear.
I try to move but a force pins me down into the sofa, my knees glued together. ‘Where are we going?’ I ask, not recognising my own voice.
‘Away,’ he whispers, leaning in to me so our noses are almost touching. ‘I have our son… he is waiting for us on the other side.’
‘The other side of where?’
He sniggers, his eyes disappearing into the folds of his face. ‘A place we can all be together.’
‘But I don’t know you, not really.’ A scream surges up into my mouth but disperses as it passes over my lips. ‘Where’s James? I want my husband.’
‘He doesn’t want you,’ he laughs, his hot spittle practically blinding me. ‘You gave birth to my child, how could your husband ever want to look at you again?’
‘I don’t believe you,’ I shout, thrashing around underneath his weight, my muscles like dead weights.
‘Look if you don’t believe me.’
I crane my neck, follow his stare to where James is standing at the open door, fiery anger blazing in his eyes.
‘Help me,’ I plead, choking on my own words.
James shakes his head… before silently walking away.
‘See,’ says Aiden, his fingers caressing the side of my cheek. ‘I told you nobody could ever love you as much as me.’
I sit bolt upright, my heart hammering a frantic beat against my chest. The flickering television turns the room a cobalt blue, the volume set to mute. My hair is soaking wet, my scalp a burning fire of pain. ‘James?’ I cry out into the darkness, the traffic outside making shadow puppets on the curtains. I have to tell him about the dream, about Aiden. I have to tell him like I should have done all along.
James’s heavy footsteps pound down the hallway. I turn, desperate to see him and yet at the same time suddenly afraid. He appears at the doorway, his eyes boring into mine. ‘Where have you put the set of keys that were in the back door?’
‘I haven’t had them.’ I push myself up, a blinding pain shooting through my head. ‘What’s happened? Where’s Cory?’
‘Asleep.’ He crosses the room and sits down on the armchair opposite. ‘You fell asleep so I bathed him and got him settled.’
I check the time on my watch. 11.10 p.m. ‘Why didn’t you wake me? He’ll be awake again soon for another feed.’
He shrugs. ‘Thought you needed the rest. Go up to bed and I’ll see to the night feeds. Don’t forget to take your tablet though.’
‘What were you saying about the key?’ I shuffle around on the sofa, my full bladder causing me great discomfort. I obviously need to go to the toilet but my legs feel too weak to stand.
‘I went to lock up and my keys aren’t there,’ says James through a sigh. ‘I’m sure they were in the back door earlier today. Have you moved them?’
I shake my head, panic quickly working its way into a frenzy. ‘The door was open earlier. That’s what I was saying. Somebody must have taken your key!’
‘Don’t start all that again.’ His tone verges on boredom. ‘You probably moved them without thinking.’
‘No!’ I shout, not caring how crazy I sound. ‘I never touched your keys. I didn’t do it!’
‘Just like you never sent that email or smoked them cigarettes?’
‘Well, I’m telling you I didn’t.’
‘I probably did then. It’s hardly surprising I can’t remember what I’m doing, what with all this stress. Seriously, Lou, you need to sort yourself out. None of this is good for Cory.’
‘Don’t tell me what’s good for my son!’ I seethe, the anger inside of me seeping into every word.
‘Oh, your son is it now? I wondered how long it would be before you played that card.’
I feel my face crumple. ‘James, please… I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Didn’t you?’ he shouts into my ear as he storms past. ‘Because it sounded pretty clear to me.’
‘Where are you going now?’
‘To bed. I’ll be sleeping in the spare room. I’ll leave you and your son to it.’
As he slams the door shut… I feel a warm sensation between my legs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Louisa
Now
‘Louisa, open this door now!’
James’s voice, accompanied by the sharp rattling of the bedroom door handle, wakes me. A sickly stench of urine sticks to the warm air as I peel open my eyes. I glance down at myself, realise I’m naked. A quick glance over towards the partially opened curtains reveals a patchy, blue sky.
The memories of yesterday begin to slot themselves together: Christmas lunch, Annette’s pregnancy, the charm bracelet… and then what?
‘I need to get dressed, Louisa. Why the hell have you barricaded the door shut?’ A heavy thud connects with something solid to the side of me. I follow the source of the sound to where the bedroom door connects with a heavy set of drawers. ‘Let me in now!’
‘Okay, I’m coming.’ My voice sticks to the sides of my throat. Taking a deep breath, I try to remember what happened when James went to bed last night. I know he was angry with me but I can’t remember why. I sat alone in the darkness for what felt like hours, the ticking of the clock like a beating heart, its slow pulse marking the passing of time. Memories I’d rather forget looped round and round in my mind. I was desperate to tell James about Aiden, to confess to him what happened all those years ago. I knew I never would though, knew that, for all my inner promises, I’d take my secret to the grave.
The floor is icy on my bare feet as I step out of bed, my legs practically buckling beneath me. Not remembering when Cory last woke up for a feed, I peer into his Moses basket, my eyes adjusting to the dimness of the bedroom. Feeling a scream surge up into my throat, I clasp my hand over my mouth, my eyes unwilling to accept what I’m seeing.
‘James!’ I don’t recognise the sound which impales the air, am hardly aware of the deafening bang which sends the drawers flying towards me or James’s heavy bulk as he scrambles up and over them like some kind of primate.
‘What’s the matter? What’s wrong?’ He wraps himself around me, his hot breath in my face as I writhe around in his arms, fighting to be free.
‘Cory,’ I scream. ‘Cory’s gone!’
James throws me off him, a distressed, almost demented laugh rising from the pit of his stomach. ‘You really don’t remember, do you? You really have lost it.’
‘What? What have I done?’
‘I took him from you last night. He was crying. It seemed to go on for ever. I came downstairs to check everything was all right.’ He shakes his head, as if the memory is too painful to remember. ‘I found you sitting with him on the floor in the kitchen, staring at the back door. It was scary, really weird, like something out of a horror film.’ He rakes his hands through
his hair, his dark eyelashes laden with tears. ‘You said you were a guard, that the donor would be there at any moment. Cory’s hands and feet were freezing cold, he was hungry.’
‘So where is he now?’ I ask, James’s version of events somehow ringing true. I remember now that I bolted the front door and watched the back like a hawk, terrified that the donor or Annette were about to break in and steel Cory. But I don’t remember Cory being with me.
‘Is that all you’ve got to say? Everything I’ve just told you and that’s all you can ask me?’
‘I just want to protect Cory. That’s all I want.’ My voice is small, my nakedness adding to the embarrassment that wraps itself around me. ‘James, please. Where’s my baby?’
‘He’s asleep in the spare room. I fed him last night and he fell asleep on my chest. Didn’t want to disturb him by coming to get the Moses basket.’
I shake my head. ‘It’s dangerous to let him sleep on you. Supposing you rolled over on top of him?’
‘I don’t think you should be giving parental advice, Louisa.’ His words are like a stab to the heart. ‘Look, you know I’m back on nights tonight, don’t you? I would stay home longer but it’s Christmas and you know how busy it is at Christmas.’
‘You can’t leave me,’ I say, panicking. ‘Not while the keys are missing. Anybody could break in. We need to get the locks changed.’
James closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if suddenly exasperated. ‘Nobody is going to break in. I’ll look for them later. And nobody is coming to change the locks on Boxing Day so you can forget that one.’
‘But…’
‘But nothing,’ he snaps, startling me. ‘Look, if we don’t find them today then maybe tomorrow we’ll get the locks changed, even if it’s just to put your mind at rest. I need to nip out in an hour or so but when I come back I’ll look for them.’
‘But where are you going?’
‘Just out, Louisa!’ he shouts, every muscle in his face clenched. ‘To clear my head, to think about all of this.’ He holds out his hands in front of him. ‘I need to decide what the best course of action is.’
‘But I don’t know what you mean.’ I shrink further into myself, my knees hunched up into my chest. ‘Are you saying you need to think about what to do with me?’
James looks down at the floor, his eyes alive with a thousand thoughts. ‘I think it might be for the best if you went into hospital for a little while. Doctor Roberts gave me an emergency number to call if things deteriorated. I’m just trying…’
‘No, I’m begging you,’ I interrupt, my lips trembling under the weight of my words. ‘I’m not mentally ill. It’s just the tablets. You said yourself. You said I just needed time to adjust.’ Fat tears roll down my cheeks as I realise just how close I am to being sectioned. ‘Please don’t ring anybody, James.’
He sighs, his own eyes red and swollen. ‘I have to think of Cory. He’s my priority now. Look,’ he continues after a moment’s silence, ‘I’ve rung Mum and Dad. They’re coming back from David’s now. Mum said David’s wife made a crap Christmas dinner anyway.’ He attempts to laugh but it falls just short of being genuine. ‘Dad’s offered to take me out for a few hours. And I’ve decided to come clean with him, about everything.’
‘About the donor?’
‘About everything,’ he reiterates, looking me directly in the eye. ‘It’s all the secrets and lies which have got us into this mess and I know I’m partly to blame for that.’ He nods his head, as if convincing himself of the truth. ‘Mum has offered to stay here with you. And also sleep over tonight while I’m at work.’
‘No.’ I shake my head, fear giving way to anger. ‘I don’t need a bloody babysitter.’
‘Well, it’s either that or I’m ringing the mental health team, Lou. Take your pick.’
I am saved from answering by Cory’s ear-splitting cry.
‘So how batty are we actually talking, James? Do I need to carry protection?’
‘Mum, please, don’t be ridiculous. She’s really fragile right now. Just be gentle with her, will you?’
‘Of course I’ll be gentle, when am I ever not? But we’ve all seen Misery, James. At least it’s not snowing any more, I suppose.’
‘Dad, tell her, for God’s sake.’
‘Tamz, stop being bloody ridiculous.’
‘Well, shall we come up with a codeword just in case? Something festive. How about crackers?’
Their heavy whispers drift down the hallway and through the crack in the closed lounge door to where I’m curled up on the sofa, my still-wet hair dripping onto my creased T-shirt.
After the fiasco of this morning, James insisted I had a shower and got dressed, perhaps believing the hot water would wash away the demons inside my soul. Either that, or he’d noticed the stained underwear which lay abandoned at the foot of the bed, the sickly stench of piss sticking to the fusty air. The powerful spray from the shower lacerated my skin as I stood underneath it with the temperature dial turned up as far as it would go, intent on burning away my inner suffering. My thoughts yo-yo’d backwards and forwards, one moment utterly convinced that somebody was intent on taking Cory, and in the next breath sure I had suffered a mental breakdown. Salty tears ran down my face, mixing with the scalding water from the shower. I hoped and prayed I was in the midst of a breakdown. Because even if it meant me being carted away to be sectioned, at least Cory would be safe.
The door taps opens and Tamzin’s head pokes through the slender gap. ‘Hello, Louisa,’ she gulps, her eyes flitting around the room. ‘May I enter? It’s your mother-in-law, Tamzin.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Yes, you may enter.’ If the situation weren’t so serious it would almost be laughable.
Gingerly, Tamzin makes her way over to the armchair and sits down on its edge. Behind her, the open curtains reveal another bleak day, the sky the colour of iron. ‘Ahh, would you just look at him,’ she says, her eyes resting on Cory who is lying on the floor underneath his multisensory Jungle Gym. ‘Getting bigger by the day.’
‘He sure is,’ I say, saddened by how grown-up he looks in his denim jeans and Baby Converse, his freshly washed hair parted and swept over to the side. I hate the thought that I’m missing his first few weeks of life, that I’ll always look back on this time with sadness and regret. It’s almost unbelievable to think he’s three weeks old today. It seems like only yesterday I pushed him into the world, all the fear and worry I’d carried throughout my pregnancy melting away as I gazed into his eyes, his bare skin against mine like a defibrillator which restarted my broken heart.
‘Lou, Mum, we’re going to shoot off now. We won’t be too long. Have you got everything you need?’
I look over at James who is standing in the open doorway pulling on his coat. Doug is behind him, partially obscured by James. ‘Yes, we’re fine. Hello, Doug, have a nice time.’ Nervousness fizzes inside my stomach, knowing that if James manages to hold on to his nerve and tell his dad about Cory’s donor, a ‘nice time’ will definitely not be on the cards.
‘All right, Louisa, love?’ Doug shouts back at me, his customary greeting somewhat off kilter.
A few moments later, when the front door slams shut, a heavy silence rests in the air. Tamzin seems suddenly mesmerised by her fingernails, her cocksure demeanour deflating like a burst balloon. ‘Are you all right?’ I ask her, bemused by her obvious discomfort.
‘Great,’ she replies, refusing to look up and meet my eye. ‘I think I’ll make us a nice cup of tea.’
‘Lovely idea. Perhaps we can have a few biscuits with it?’
‘Of course. Whatever you want.’ She stands up and power walks across the lounge, her face frozen into a smile.
I look down at Cory after she’s left the room. ‘Well,’ I say lightly, causing him to crane his neck in order to look up at me. ‘If being crazy makes Nanny get up off her arse, it’s not all been for nothing after all.’
The shrill ring of the landline makes me jump.
From the kitchen, I hear the distinct sound of the lid from the biscuit tin clatter onto the countertop, followed by a stream of muffled swear words. Tamzin is obviously as nervous as I am, but for an entirely different reason. Despite trying my best to make light of it, it does hurt me that my normally feisty mother-in-law has been reduced to a quivering wreck because of me. I know she has never fully understood my mental illness, and I don’t blame her for it, but it hurts none the less. Does she really believe I’m a danger to her?
As the ringing continues, I chew the side of my tongue, unsure of whether or not to answer it. It’s strange for anybody to ring the landline instead of my mobile, especially given the fact that it’s Boxing Day, meaning most of the call centres will be closed for Christmas.
‘Are you getting that, Louisa?’ Tamzin’s voice drifts through the open doorway, accompanied by the rattle of the boiled kettle.
‘Yeah, sure.’ Heaving myself up, I make my way over towards it. ‘Hello.’
A heavy silence fills my ears. ‘Hello?’ I try again, this time more of a question than a statement. When I am yet again greeted with silence, I cut the call and put the phone back into its holster.
‘Here you are,’ says Tamzin, a moment later, as she enters the room. She is carrying a mug of tea in each hand and a plate of biscuits are balancing in the gap between her forearm and chest. ‘A lovely cup of tea and a ginger nut. Oh my God!’ she shouts, almost dropping the tea.
‘What!?’
‘I wasn’t having a dig with the ginger-nut thing. Honestly, they were the only ones in the cupboard.’ Her face turns crimson. ‘Not that you’re nutty or anything but…’
‘Its fine,’ I interrupt, sighing relief. ‘Bloody hell, Tamzin, I thought something was wrong then.’
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