‘It was weird. I felt like I was in a movie or something. I was so scared for Daisy.’ My voice wobbles. ‘I thought we were going to be like those parents you see on TV. You know, the ones who have to put out an appeal to find their missing child.’
‘Hey.’ Dom comes and sits next to me on the sofa. ‘It’s okay. Nothing happened. Our baby is here. She’s safe. No one’s going to take Daisy. Okay? Are you sure you heard it through the monitor?’ he asks. ‘Couldn’t it have been on the telly?’
I shake my head. ‘No, definitely not. I paused the TV and I had the monitor in my hand. The voices came from the monitor. I could see the monitor’s lights flashing while they spoke.’
Dom nods thoughtfully. ‘What did the police say?’
‘They’re going round to all the neighbours, asking if anyone has a baby staying with them.’
‘Good idea.’
‘What if those people are still out there?’ As I voice my concerns, new worries begin to seep into my mind. ‘You hear about these things, don’t you? Baby-smuggling rings where they take young children and sell them to rich couples abroad. It happens.’
‘Kirstie, we live in Wimborne. It’s not exactly rife with international crime. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any baby-smuggling rings in Dorset.’ A sympathetic smile creeps onto his lips, but there’s absolutely no part of this that is amusing to me.
‘How do you know?’ I reply. ‘Maybe it would be the perfect place – a sleepy little town in England where no one suspects that anything bad could happen.’
‘Let’s wait and see what the police say.’ He puts an arm around me and kisses the side of my head. ‘I know what happened must’ve been scary, but try not to worry.’
I murmur agreement, but my brain is still racing with all the awful possibilities. I shudder at the thought of those whispered voices and what they were discussing. That they could have chosen my house and my baby. I’m going to have to be more careful. I’m going to have to make the house more secure. The idea of someone taking Daisy – it doesn’t bear thinking about. My stomach gives a sudden lurch, and I have the sensation that something has irrevocably shifted.
That nothing in our lives will ever be quite the same again.
Three
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting on the sofa once more, having just fed Daisy. Normally it’s a quiet moment, a time for us to bond, but this evening I’m on autopilot while my mind jumps back and forth from I need to keep my baby safe to It’ll be okay, don’t panic. Dominic strolls back into the lounge dressed in clean shorts and a T-shirt, his hair damp from the shower. I give a start as the doorbell rings.
‘I’ll get it,’ Dominic says.
‘It’s probably the police,’ I call after him, retying the strap of my dress and running a hand over my dark curls, making sure I look half-presentable. I glance out of the window, get to my feet and place Daisy over my shoulder, patting her back and waiting for her to burp, hoping she doesn’t throw up on me – I forgot to put a cloth over my shoulder.
I hear my husband introduce himself. Seconds later he comes back into the lounge accompanied by the two officers. ‘Can I make you a tea or coffee?’ Dominic asks them. ‘Or something cold?’
‘No thanks,’ the taller one says, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead with his fingertips. ‘Just checking – you weren’t in the house when your wife heard the voices in the monitor?’
‘No, I was out for a run,’ Dominic replies, ‘but she filled me in on what happened.’
‘Good. Well, we spoke to all your neighbours, and none of them have a baby in their house. It’s just you with a little one. And there aren’t any other residential roads close by. You’re surrounded by fields.’
‘Could the monitor have picked up a signal from further away?’ I ask.
‘It’s doubtful,’ he replies, ‘but we’ll look into it.’
‘Because someone, somewhere, has taken a baby – or at least they’ve tried to.’
‘If there’s an abduction or attempted abduction, I’m sure the parents will get in touch with us.’
‘But what if they don’t know yet?’ I say, the horror of the situation dawning on me. ‘What if they’re sitting in their lounge watching TV thinking their baby is fast asleep upstairs, but, in reality, it’s already been taken by someone? They might not check on their child for hours.’ I glance out of the window once more, putting my fingers to the glass, half-expecting to see someone making off down the road with a child.
‘Kirstie,’ Dom says gently. ‘They’ve spoken to all our neighbours. No one has a baby. I’m sure the monitor wouldn’t pick up a signal from miles away. Could it have been someone else’s TV programme you heard through the monitor?’
‘I don’t think so. No. It sounded like Daisy’s cry and then someone clearly saying they wanted to take the baby. It sounded real. Not like something on TV.’
‘Look,’ the taller officer says with a sympathetic expression. ‘Whatever you heard, it gave you a shock, understandably. But if anyone has abducted a child, we’ll find out about it, and we’ll act on it, okay? And, in the meantime, if you hear or see anything else that worries you, then please give us a call.’
‘Thanks, Officer.’ Dominic shakes his hand and the policemen turn to leave.
Is that it? I think. Is that all they’re going to do? I could’ve done that myself. I could’ve walked around and asked the neighbours if they had any babies staying with them. Maybe they think I’m a crackpot. I know I probably look dishevelled and out of it, but I’m the mother of a six-month-old baby, for goodness sake. I turn to look at myself in the mirror above the mantelpiece. My usually glossy curls are both greasy and frizzy, and my face is pale as the moon. I bend my head to sniff my shoulder – a waft of baby milk, sweat and recent fear makes me wrinkle my nose.
Dominic sees the officers out and comes back in, his arms open wide. I step into them, still cradling Daisy. I haven’t put her down since I heard the voices. Dominic smells of citrus shower gel. Of home. I feel safe in his arms. He kisses the top of my head.
‘How about I make my Thai curry tonight?’ he says. ‘I’ll put Daisy back to bed first. You go and have a shower, then sit down and put your feet up.’
‘Thai curry sounds good,’ I say, not really feeling at all hungry. ‘But I’d rather keep Daisy down here with us after what’s happened.’
Dominic steps back and stares at me. ‘You’re really shaken up, Kirst. You’re white as a ghost.’
‘I thought they’d taken her,’ I say. ‘It’s just a shock, that’s all. I’ll be okay in a minute.’
‘Why don’t I bring Daisy’s old Moses basket downstairs?’ he suggests. ‘It’s in the spare room, isn’t it? She can stay down here with us this evening.’
‘Will she still fit in it?’ I ask hopefully.
‘She’ll be fine.’
‘Okay.’ My shoulders relax a little. As long as we keep her with us, I’ll feel better. Safer.
Half an hour later, I’m sitting at the kitchen table sipping a glass of water and Daisy is fast asleep in her old basket – her mop of dark hair pressing against the end. She barely fits, but she’ll be fine in there for now. Dominic is standing at the hob, cooking away, dance tunes blaring out of the speakers. You’d think the noise would wake Daisy, but she’s already used to his awful taste in music. Dom rarely cooks, and when he does it’s always a Thai curry or spaghetti Bolognese, both of which he makes exceptionally well. The bifold doors are open and I’m itching to close them tight and turn the lock, but it’s too hot, especially while Dom’s cooking. We would roast. I’ll close the doors before we eat.
‘I’m going to check everything in the house is locked up,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘Keep an eye on her, won’t you? Don’t leave her alone.’