‘Of course not – sorry,’ I say, fumbling around with the tabs of the clean nappy ready to take it back off again. ‘I really do apologise.’
The kitchen is an even bigger state than the lounge. Multiple pots and pans balance on top of one another in the sink basin, ingrained with solidified gravy from yesterday’s roast. I have tried to keep on top of things, really I have, but Cory is relentless, and in the rare moments he does decide to sleep, my muscles are so heavy I can barely move. I watch in horror as a lone fly tucks into a plate of toasted bread crumbs left on the draining board. To the side of it, a half-empty mug of coffee sheds its skin. I look over at the open kitchen door, certain Carol is going to appear at any moment, a hardback copy of Kim and Aggie’s The Cleaning Bible tucked under her armpit.
The kettle takes an age to boil. I peel the plastic lid off the powdered formula, my hands shaking so badly I almost drop it. Cory continues to cry in the lounge, a frustrated, hungry wail which frays every last nerve inside of me. I should go to him and try to soothe him, perhaps bring him into the kitchen with me while I prepare his bottle. But I can’t hold him while handling boiling water, can I? Carol will call social services if I do, she’ll have him removed!
Pulling my mobile phone out of my dressing-gown pocket, I fiddle around with the icons until I find what I’m looking for.
James picks up on the first ring.
‘Where are you?’ I whisper into the handset, the rattling of the kettle making it difficult for me to hear my own voice. ‘You have to come home!’
‘I’m at work obviously. You know I am. What’s the matter?’
Feeling the all-too-familiar burn of tears behind my eyes, I take a moment to compose myself.
‘Lou!’ The urgency in James’s voice spikes. ‘What’s the matter? Is Cory all right? Why’s he crying like that?’
‘I can’t… I don’t know what to do. Just come home now.’ I lean one hand against the worktop to steady myself, the kettle now screaming in its holster. ‘I’m sorry, James, I’ve tried so hard to hold it all together but I can’t do it any more, I just can’t.’
‘Louisa, calm down. What on earth is going on?’
‘The health visitor’s here,’ I whisper, my words clogging my throat. ‘I slept in and the house is a mess and she keeps tapping her shoe on the floor.’
I hear James blow out air, a slight laugh buried in the back of his throat. ‘Bloody hell, don’t do that to me. I thought something was actually wrong then.’
‘There is something wrong!’ I say through gritted teeth, my stomach hardening as visions of Carol’s disapproving glare floats in front of my eyes. ‘She’s going to take Cory, I know she is!’
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid. Where is she now? Does she know you’re ringing me?’
I shake my head. ‘She’s in the lounge. But James…’ I say quickly, before I have a chance to change my mind, knowing my distress isn’t solely down to Carol’s complete and utter evilness. ‘There’s another card, on the mat. It’s…’
‘What do you mean another card? Lou, you’re not making any sense.’
I wince, knowing that now I’ve spoken of the card there is no going back. ‘James, I have to tell you something…’
‘Is everything all right in here?’
I squeeze my eyes shut, Carol’s voice suddenly close enough to touch.
‘Lou, what card? Speak to me.’
‘I have to go. I’m sorry. It’s all okay. We’ll talk later.’ Cutting the call, I place my mobile phone on the kitchen worktop, the steam from the kettle so hot I’m sure it’s going to leave blisters on my skin. Slowly, I turn around, looking on in absolute horror as Carol stands in the open kitchen doorway… her eyes ingesting the mess which is all around me.
‘The unfolding of your words gives light, it gives understanding to the simple.’ Psalm 119: 130
I follow the health visitor as she rounds the corner towards her car, the rhythmic click of her heels against the hard pavement the only sound in the otherwise abandoned street. She quickens her step upon seeing her archaic Fiat Punto up ahead, her arms remaining crossed over her torso in a self-serving hug.
I keep my distance for a while, enjoying the fact that I know everything about her and she knows nothing about me.
Fail to prepare… prepare to fail.
The health visitor throws her arms up in the air as she reaches her car. It is an overdone gesture, presumably aimed at the dog walker who ambles towards her, his chin buried in his chest in an attempt to keep out the cold.
‘Here, let me help you.’ I quicken my pace from behind, startling her.
She throws her hand dramatically over her heavy breasts, a look of panic cracking itself open into a smile. ‘You scared me then.’
The dog walker saunters past us, leaving a backdraught of dog faeces in his wake.
‘I’m useless when it comes to changing a tyre,’ she continues apologetically. ‘That’s twice now in the past week. If I were the suspicious type I’d say somebody has got it in for me.’
I remove the hubcap and loosen the lug nuts. ‘You’re Louisa’s health visitor, is that right? I saw you come from the house.’
She nods slowly. ‘I am. And you are?’
I answer her question – a mixture of truth and lies slipping from my tongue like melted butter.
‘Well, thank you for this,’ she sighs. ‘It’s very good of you.’
I place the jack under the car, my fingers stiff and in need of oiling. ‘Beautiful baby, isn’t he?’
She blows out a smile, her cheeks reddening. ‘He is that.’
‘Cries a lot though. It that normal? I wouldn’t really know.’ I drop my gaze, focus on the task at hand.
‘All babies are different.’
I leave a cold breath of silence as I begin to raise the car with the jack, the pressure mounting under its steel frame. ‘I guess babies sense a lot from their mothers…’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh nothing. I’m probably being ridiculous.’ I remove the tyre, my hands now black with oil.
‘You’re a pro at that,’ she says, throwing a curveball which I’m not expecting. ‘I really ought to learn… being a woman is clearly no excuse these days.’
I mount the spare tyre onto the lug bolts. ‘It’s no problem, really.’ I suck my teeth. ‘And please forget what I said about Louisa. I’d hate her to think I was betraying her in some way. It’s just…’ I allow my words to fall away.
‘Just what?’
‘Well, I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to her or the child and I hadn’t said.’ I look up and meet her eye, witness the panic which sweeps across her face.
I know everything about her, and she knows nothing about me.
Carol is the perfect pawn in my game of chess, a blessing from God almighty. She doesn’t realise I know of the sleeping pills she takes on a nightly basis in an attempt to quash the nightmares which have plagued her ever since that fateful night. It isn’t hard for me to get my hands on medical records after all. Late in the evenings, when she thinks nobody else is watching, she sneaks out and visits the baby’s grave, places flowers beside the marbled gravestone and apologises to her for not noticing the signs. She promises her that she will never make the same mistake again… that she will always look that little bit deeper on home visits. Yes, Carol is heaven sent. As our Lord God says, ‘Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above.’ James 1:17
‘I’ll keep an eye on Louisa, don’t worry.’ She swallows loudly.
‘Thank you. Because, obviously, you’re aware of her history?’
Carol drops her gaze, confidentiality stopping her from saying anything further. But it doesn’t matter; her eyes have told me all I need to know. ‘Are you saying you want to have your concerns noted down?’ she asks, looking up at me, her face flushing scarlet.
‘No, not at all,’ I protest through the wave of a hand. ‘You’re the expert… and if you think everything is fine and there’s nothing to report…’ I tighten the lug nuts by hand, slowly, twisting them until they almost snap.
‘Well, I suppose she did seem…’
‘Seem what?’