‘No she’s not,’ Mel says. ‘She’s a snobby cow. You know she is.’
‘I dunno, I think she’s just shy and a bit awkward.’ Lorna and her first husband split up when their daughters were young. It can’t have been easy for her with three young girls. She met Stephen Parkfield soon after, and they married almost straight away.
‘Wouldn’t hurt her to crack a smile every once in a while,’ Mel says.
‘Just try to get home by midnight.’ Even as I’m saying the words, I know there’s no chance Mel will be back by then.
‘You’re such a stresser,’ she says, squeezing my hand.
‘Honestly, Mel. I’m just looking out for you.’
‘I know you are, hon. I know.’
I have to stop worrying about her. It’s her life, not mine.
‘So, can I borrow some extra cash, then?’ Mel asks again.
‘I’ve only got enough for my taxi home,’ I say. ‘I’ll have to go to the cashpoint.’
‘Thank yooou!’ She kisses my cheek and drags me to my feet. ‘Let’s pay the bill and go there now.’
Eventually, we all say our goodbyes, promising to meet up again soon, and I slide into my taxi, leaving Mel at the bar while her hot waiter finishes his shift. I don’t know how she manages it, but men are always drawn to her. Trouble is, they never end up sticking around.
The cab journey home is smooth and quick, the driver thankfully untalkative, my mind pleasantly vacant. I stifle a yawn as we pull into Magnolia Close and I point out my house. I’m looking forward to holding Daisy in my arms and giving her a feed. It feels as though I’ve been away for days.
As I step out of the cab and close the door, I see the Parkfields’ curtains twitch. I bet it’s Lorna assuming Mel’s back too. She’ll probably be expecting Jess home any minute. I toy with the idea of knocking on her door, letting her know that Mel won’t be home until later, but instantly dismiss the thought – I don’t want to get involved in that drama.
The taxi has gone, and I realise I’m still standing on the driveway. I give myself a shake. But as I begin walking down the path, I notice that something is off. I frown into the dark patch of garden that lies between the porch light and the streetlight. Suddenly, I realise what it is – the plants and flowers in one of the front borders have been flattened. I take a few steps closer and peer into the flower bed. It’s as though someone has stomped on all the poor plants, grinding the leaves and petals off their stalks so they’re now trampled into the dry earth. Did someone do this on purpose? Why would they do such a thing? Could it have been kids?
But my questions fade as I hear a distant noise – a baby crying. Not just crying, but screaming. Daisy! She sounds hysterical. Bloody Dominic. What’s he doing? Why isn’t he comforting her? Or maybe he is trying to soothe her but she’s crying with hunger and it’s my fault for staying out too late.
I run down the drive and along the path, fumble with my keys in the lock and stagger into the hallway. The lounge door is open and the TV is on. I see the back of Dom’s head. Why is he sitting in there, when Daisy is screaming her lungs out?
‘Dom!’ I march into the lounge.
He opens his eyes. ‘Eh?’
‘Were you asleep?’ I snap, noting the open windows.
‘Yeah, must’ve nodded off.’
‘Your daughter is screaming her head off up there.’
‘What?’ He jumps to his feet and frowns. ‘No she’s not.’
I tilt my head to listen. Sure enough, she’s quieted down. ‘Well, she was a second ago.’ I glare at him, stomp out of the room and race up the stairs, hoping to God she’s okay, wishing I had never gone out. I stride into our darkened bedroom and peer into the Moses basket, ready to scoop Daisy into my arms.
But it’s empty. Daisy isn’t there.
Eight
‘Dom!’ I yell. ‘Dom, come quickly!
‘What is it?’ He switches on the light and stares at me, bemused.
‘Where’s Daisy?’ I ask, on the verge of panic. ‘Why isn’t she in her basket?’ I see that our bedroom window is open and I suddenly remember the trampled flowers in the front garden. My skin goes cold.
‘It’s okay, Kirstie.’ Putting his fingers to his lips, he leads me into Daisy’s room and over to the cot where our daughter lies on her back, fast asleep.
As I stare down at my baby, relief swamps me. My hands tremble as I reach down to stroke her hair, marvelling that she really is here. That she’s safe. That my fear was unfounded.
‘I moved her back into her own room,’ Dominic quietly explains. ‘I thought it would be best.’
‘For a minute, I thought… I thought…’
‘I’m sorry,’ Dom whispers. ‘I should’ve told you. I didn’t think.’
‘It’s okay.’ I push my fingertips into my forehead, and take deep, steadying breaths. ‘But I heard her screaming. When I was outside, she was yelling so loudly. I thought she must be hungry.’
‘She’s fine,’ Dom says. ‘Good as gold. No tears all evening.’ He puts his arms around me and brings me close to his chest. ‘I’m sorry, Kirst. I can’t imagine how you must have felt seeing the empty basket.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry I panicked.’
‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it.’
I lean back and stare at him, trying to discern his expression, but I can’t see him clearly in the gloom. ‘If it wasn’t Daisy screaming, then whose baby did I hear?’
‘It was probably just foxes,’ Dom says.
‘It wasn’t foxes. I know the difference between foxes and babies.’
Dominic sighs. ‘The main thing is that Daisy’s safe.’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Yes, you’re right. She’s safe. She’s here. But there is something strange going on.’
‘Strange?’
‘Someone trampled all the flowers in our garden.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Dom frowns.
I lead him out of Daisy’s room and down the stairs.
‘Kirstie?’
I open the front door and walk across to the decimated flower bed. Dom follows behind and I point at the mess of earth and leaves, breathing in the heavy scent of crushed flower petals.
‘Who did that?’ he asks.
I shrug. ‘It was like this when I got home.’
‘Must be kids,’ he says. ‘Little shits.’
‘It looks deliberate, though.’ I wrap my arms around myself. ‘Why would kids walk down our drive and do something so horrible?’
‘Could it be one of your pupils?’ Dom asks. ‘Maybe you gave them a low mark or something, and they thought they’d get back at you by doing this.’
I give a small shiver and Dom puts an arm around me. ‘Come on,’ he says, ‘let’s go back in. Whoever did it is an idiot, but I doubt they’ll be back.’
I let myself be guided back inside the house, still disquieted by the flower bed, but also haunted by the ghost of that screaming baby I heard earlier. I briefly wonder if I could have been hearing things. Could it have been foxes like Dom said? No. Definitely not. Maybe there is another baby nearby? But our road is isolated. And there are no other babies on this street. These thoughts circle my brain as I check that the front door is locked properly. I don’t want to think about all this now. I’m suddenly exhausted. All I know is that Daisy is okay. She’s upstairs in her cot and I won’t be leaving her side tonight. Though I know she’s safe, the nagging suspicion that someone is trying to take her won’t leave me alone. And the thought I’m losing my mind keeps growing.
I bring Daisy into bed with me. She’s hungry and contented as she lies in my arms, her fingers stroking my face as she feeds. My earlier panic is finally receding. There’s no way Daisy will be sleeping in her own room tonight and Dominic knows better than to try and persuade me. He comes into our bedroom.
‘I’m so sorry about before, Dom. About overreacting like that when I thought Daisy was crying, and then when I thought she was missing.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s fine.’
‘It’s not fine. I completely panicked. This whole baby-monitor thing yesterday, it spooked me. I’m a nervous wreck.’
‘Forget it.’ He shakes his head and gives me a small smile.