‘Silly Mummy forgot,’ I say. It’s still on the coffee table where I left it last night. After the distraction of the weird dream it had slipped from my mind. ‘I’ll do it as soon as we’re inside.’ I ruffle his hair and smile, but I’m annoyed at myself. How could I have forgotten that? His present to me. A gift from the one person who loves me unconditionally, and I forgot about it.
Only when he’s settled in front of some games on his dad’s old iPad, with cartoons playing in the background, do I start transferring my bundle over, and I realise that I still have my keys to the clinic. My heart thumps faster. If David did have some kind of file on Adele then he wouldn’t keep it at home. It would be at work where she couldn’t inadvertently find it.
But somewhere I could. If I dared.
I stare at the keys. I could get in without anyone knowing. I know the alarm code. I could do it tonight. I feel slightly sick at what I’m suggesting to myself, but I also have a surge of adrenaline. I need to know. Adele needs to know. And I owe it to her after everything I’ve done, even if she’s blissfully unaware of what a truly shit friend I am.
Adam is absorbed in the film, watching dozily, still tired out after his holiday and then a day at the woods, and I sneak out and knock for Laura next door.
‘Hey,’ she says, all smiles, the sound from her huge TV wafting out to me. ‘Louise. What can I do for you? Do you want to come in?’ I like Laura, even though I haven’t seen much of her recently, and I have a moment of embarrassment at the thought that she probably heard David and me fighting the other night.
‘I can’t stop, I’ve left Adam. I was wondering, and I know it’s really short notice, but could you maybe babysit him tonight? I’m really sorry, it’s a last-minute thing.’
‘A date?’ she asks, grinning.
I nod, which is stupid. Now I’m going to have to get dressed up for a night out just to break into my old office. Thinking about it, the reality of actually doing it, I suddenly will her to say no.
‘Of course I can,’ she says, and I curse my impetuousness. ‘I’ll never stand in the way of potential true love or a good shag. What time?’
‘About eight?’ I’m going to have time to fill, but any later would sound odd. ‘Is that okay? He’ll be in bed by then, and you know what he’s like, he’ll never wake up.’
‘It’s no problem, honestly,’ she says. ‘I didn’t have anything planned.’
‘Thanks, Laura. You’re a star.’
That’s that then. I’m doing it.
I get more tense as the afternoon stretches into the evening, my mind filled with worries. What if they’ve changed the alarm code, is my main one, but I can’t see it. The code’s been the same for as long as I’ve worked there, and other members of staff have come and gone in that time. And as far as Dr Sykes is concerned I might come back to my job. Why would he worry about me having access? But still, by eight fifteen when Laura’s settled and I’m out of the flat, I’m still dithering as to whether I should go through with it. If anyone were to find out, I could get into serious trouble. I think about the pills. The state Adele was in at her house. She could be in worse trouble if I don’t do it.
I can’t go straight to the clinic, it’s way too early, so instead I go to an Italian restaurant on the Broadway, ensconce myself in a corner, and order a dinner I really don’t want to eat. My stomach’s fist-tight with anxiety, but I force half of the risotto down. I do, however, drink a large glass of red wine to steady me. It barely touches the sides and I feel stone cold sober.
By ten I’ve stayed as long as I can, and I wander through the town for an hour, puffing constantly on my e-cig until my mouth and throat are dry. I try to focus. I think about Adele. I know I have to do this. It’s important. And it’s not like I’m breaking in anyway. Not technically. I have keys. If anyone turns up – oh please fuck God don’t let anyone turn up – I can claim to be picking up something I’ve left there. Yeah right, Louise, because after eleven is always the time people innocently do stuff like that in business premises.
The road feels oppressively dark as I turn down it, and my footsteps are the sole ones disturbing the peace of the empty pavement. Most of the buildings here are solicitors’ or accountants’ offices, and although some of the higher floors are flats, barely any light filters out from under their heavy, wealthy curtains and designer blinds. I should be happy that I can’t be seen, but the hairs on the back of my neck still prickle as if something in the darkness is watching me. I glance back over my shoulder, momentarily convinced that someone is right there, but the road is clear.