I awake to the sound of a dull thud. My eyes spring open, my pulse ticking. Was that a sound from my dreams, or from reality? A shaft of moonlight throws the unfamiliar ceiling into relief. Where am I? It takes me a few moments to work out that it’s the middle of the night and I’m on the futon in Daisy’s room. I sit up and tilt my head, listening hard for any sound other than my frantic heartbeats. Another thud and what sounds like the scraping of wood. Definitely coming from outside. With the blood whooshing in my ears, I get to my feet to check on my daughter. I lean over the cot and exhale when I see her lying there, safe. Next, I edge over to the window, twitching the curtains aside a fraction.
The garden appears to be deserted. My eyes stray to my neighbours’ gardens but I can’t see every angle from here. I give a small gasp as I notice it – a dark figure just beyond our garden. Too far away to make out if they’re male or female, if they’re old or young. Just a hulking shape standing in the field behind the house. I release the breath I was holding. Was that person in here? Did they break in? Are they about to break in?
My breathing is shallow, my vest top sticking to my back as I check the bedroom window locks and test the handles once, twice, three times before I’m satisfied that they’re secure. I check Daisy once more and then head downstairs. The toys are all where I left them late last night, strewn along the doors and windowsills – my warning system. The other doors and windows are still secure. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been inside. But what if they came in, noticed the toys and stepped over them? What if that person out there is the same man I heard on the monitor the other day? Or could it be Martin? But why would he be standing in the field in the middle of the night? Unless… what if it was someone visiting Martin’s basement? An accomplice.
Should I go back upstairs and wake Dom? I only consider this for a brief moment before dismissing the idea. When he got home from work earlier, it was awkward. Neither of us mentioned the incident with Daisy. He stuck around for a measly half-hour before disappearing off for a bike ride. By the time he got home again, it was dark and I was in bed in Daisy’s room, fuming. So, no, I’m not going to wake Dom up now, no matter how terrified I feel.
In the stillness of the kitchen, my heart is beating out of my chest, but I have to go outside. I have to see if anyone is out there. With a wildly shaking hand, I unlock the back door and step out beneath the violet sky into the moonlit garden, closing the door behind me. The air is damp, almost cool, and I stay with my back to the glass for a moment, gathering my courage. I take a breath, tiptoe across the patio, and step down onto the grass, scratchy beneath my bare feet. I cross the garden quickly, my heart still thumping. I check the back gate. It’s locked, but whoever is out there could easily have scaled the fence. I should have checked the grass for footprints, but I’m no expert and if there were any prints, I’ve probably already obscured them with my own.
I peer over the fence and suddenly wonder if it could have been Callum coming back for his football. That seems likely. Or maybe Lorna is right, maybe Callum does have a crush on Hannah Slater and it was him hoping to get a glimpse. She is a stunner, but he shouldn’t be hanging around – especially not at night – he could get into trouble. I hold my breath and gaze across the dark fields, but there’s no one in sight. Whoever it was has gone. Unless they’re hiding… watching.
I shiver and turn around, convinced whoever I saw is staring at me right now. What the hell am I doing out here on my own at night? I must be mad. I march back across the garden trying not to panic, focusing on the back of our house – brick and tile, unremarkable, built in the 1950s, like all the other houses in our road. My home. But it looks alien in the pre-dawn morning, looming forward as though it’s tilting, about to fall forward and squash me. I start to run, my body hot, my breaths shallow. Any minute now, someone is going to grab me from behind, tackle me to the ground. It’s all I can do to stop myself from squealing aloud.
Finally, I slide open the back door, my hands slippery with sweat, and stagger back into the kitchen, stumbling over Daisy’s toys and pulling the door closed behind me. I lock it, check it and check it again, my breath ragged, a thin film of cold sweat on my forehead.
I’m tempted to race upstairs to tell Dom about the person I saw out there. A glance at the luminous blue figures on the cooker clock tells me it’s 3.25 a.m. Dom wouldn’t thank me for waking him at this time of night. And all I saw was a figure in the field. It’s a public place – nothing illegal about someone being out there. What about the thump I heard? Dom would tell me it was nothing but a cat or a fox. Maybe it was a cat or a fox. But I have a strong suspicion that those noises were made by that figure out there scaling one of the garden fences. Our garden fence.
Wired, I stand by the back door, chewing the skin around my thumbnail, wondering exactly what it is that’s going on around here. I’m also wondering if there’s nothing going on, and whether I might actually be going a little bit crazy.
* * *
My eyes fly open at the sound of a crash. Sunlight makes me squint and blink.
‘What the hell, Kirstie!’ A yell from downstairs. Then footsteps on the stairs.
I groan and close my eyes again, remembering the toys strewn around the floor down there. I meant to get up early and put them all back in the basket, but I’ve overslept again. I stagger upright and peer into Daisy’s cot. She’s still in her sleeping bag but is attempting to grab at her toes. Her eyes light up when she sees me and my heart lifts.
‘What’s with all the mess downstairs, Kirst?’ Dom says, throwing open the door and marching into Daisy’s room. ‘This is the second morning I’ve found Daisy’s toys all over the floor. I almost broke my neck on that bloody xylophone. What’s going on?’
I turn to face him, but I can’t bring myself to tell him why I put the toys there. In this sunny suburban bedroom, my fears will sound unreasonable. He’ll think I’ve lost the plot even more than yesterday.
‘Kirstie?’
‘I’m sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well so I decided to have a sort out.’
‘A sort out? But they’re everywhere. Nothing looks sorted out to me.’
‘I know, I got distracted. There was someone out there last night.’ I grip the top of Daisy’s cot with my left hand.
Dom frowns. ‘Out where.’
‘In the field at the back.’
‘Whereabouts? Are you sure you weren’t… dreaming or something?’
‘No. They were staring up at our house,’ I exaggerate a little, so he won’t think I’m losing my mind. ‘Dom, I think whoever it was might have been in our garden. Or they might have been coming from Martin’s place.’
‘What time was this?’
‘Early hours. Three-ish.’
‘God, Kirst. You were sorting out Daisy’s toys at three in the morning?’ He runs a hand over the top of his head and blows air out through pursed lips.
‘I told you, I couldn’t sleep.’
He sighs and his shoulders sag. ‘You should come back into our bed tonight,’ he says softly. ‘I miss you. No wonder you can’t sleep on that futon thing. It’s hard as a rock.’
I realise this is Dom’s way of calling a truce, but I don’t respond to his request. ‘Who do you think it could have been out there?’ I ask instead.
‘Probably just kids. Did they come into the garden?’
‘I don’t know. I just saw them in the field.’ I chew my lip.
‘Don’t worry about it then. There are always kids hanging out in the fields, especially this time of year.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Anyway, look, I better get going.’
‘Sorry about the toys,’ I say, hanging my head. ‘I hope you didn’t hurt yourself.’