He blows out air. ‘What’s been happening, Lou? I’ve been ringing you for well over an hour.’
My brow creases with confusion, wondering why he is so tense. James is normally the calm, laid-back one in our marriage. Unless he’s seen the card from this morning in the outside bin, read the Bible quote and connected the dots? Unease flutters through me. I notice how his hair is sticking up through the middle. I shrug, deciding that the best course of action is to play dumb, find out what he knows before committing to anything. ‘Nothing happened. I went for lunch with Mags and Annette.’
‘Annette called so you can drop the act. Why did you faint? I’ve been out of my mind with worry.’
A wave of heat rolls up into my chest. In my haste to get home I forgot all about Annette. So she obviously witnessed me fainting and didn’t see fit to come and help me. ‘I just got dizzy, that’s all,’ I say, storming past James into the house, leaving Cory outside in his pram.
Once in the kitchen, I grab the warm bottles from the steriliser and begin lining them up on the work surface like skittles. Inside my nerves rattle. How dare Annette tittle-tattle to James. How dare she involve herself in my family.
James enters the kitchen and I feel his breath on the nape of my neck. My skin tingles under his stare, almost as if microscopic critters are burrowing into my flesh.
‘Louisa, talk to me.’
Turning around, I look him squarely in the eye, the backdrop fading away like an oil painting left out on a hot summer’s day. I know I need to come clean about everything. I have to be honest before it tears us apart.
‘What’s the matter, Lou?’
‘Give me a minute.’ I turn back around, tears pricking my eyeballs. As a distraction, I scoop soft, creamy-coloured powder into the empty bottles, methodically counting them out as I do in an attempt to level my breathing. Just as I flick on the kettle, Cory lets out a hungry cry, adding a thick layer of guilt to the situation.
‘Lou… I think you might be getting poorly.’ James’s cold fingertips caress the back of my neck. ‘Postnatal depression was expected. It’s okay. You only had to…’
‘I haven’t got postnatal depression! Don’t ever say that!’ I spin around and stare at him. ‘I love my son! I’m a good mother!’
‘I’m not saying you don’t love him, and you are a good mother, the best.’ He steps back, his arms out in front of him. ‘But all of that business this morning with the health visitor. And then fainting in the market, shouting crazy things about somebody coming to take Cory.’
‘Bloody Annette,’ I seethe. ‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘So she made it up?’
‘No, she didn’t but…’ I look down at the marbled worktop, my mind racing. ‘It’s true what she’s told you. But it’s hard to explain.’ I grab the measuring spoon and stuff it into the powder, now completely confused as to how many scoops are already in the bottles. I pause, look out of the kitchen window directly in front of me, the night sky already turning in on itself, transforming the glass into a shadowy mirror. Through the blurred reflection, I see James rocking Cory up and down behind me. He’s whispering platitudes into his ear in an attempt to placate him. The image of them together causes my stomach to sink. Everything’s about to come crashing down. ‘James, I…’ The kettle begins to rattle in its holder, emitting steam which clouds the window in front of me, slowly erasing our reflections until we are no longer visible. ‘I need to speak to you about something.’ Cory, as if realising the enormity of the situation, stops crying. I turn around once again. James now stands frozen in front of me, his shoulders tense and his chest puffed out. Does he already know about the card? Has he known all along? ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
‘Not now, eh, Lou?’ He speaks quickly, refuses to meet my eye. ‘I really have to go out. Whatever it is, I can’t do it now.’ He thrusts Cory into my arms, as if suddenly desperate to be rid of him. I realise his nappy is full to bursting, the sweet smell of urine sweeping up my nostrils.
‘Can’t you wait until I’ve prepared his bottle? Where are you even going?’ My questions fly out of my mouth and I realise I am both disappointed and relieved that we’re not going to have the conversation tonight.
‘Work called over an hour ago, not long after I got home. There’s been a serious accident on the motorway, loads of people in a critical condition, a couple dead.’
‘Oh my God, that’s awful. All those poor people.’
‘Yes, well…’ He takes a deep breath, as if readying himself for the night ahead. ‘They’re short-staffed as it is. I have to go back in and I might be gone all night.’ He pauses, as if waiting for me to interject. When I don’t, he continues. ‘That’s why I rang you before. I needed you to hurry home as your key was still in the front door so I knew you couldn’t get in without it. Fancy going out without your key, Lou. And of course then Magda called and…’
‘I thought you said it was Annette?’
He shakes his head. ‘Yeah, Annette, you know I get them confused.’ He rubs at his eyes. ‘I really have to get to the hospital. I’m already later than I said I’d be. Will you be all right? You don’t feel dizzy or anything now?’
I shake my head, confusion clouding my thoughts. Did I really leave the house without my door key? And why didn’t I hear my phone? Didn’t I take that either?
‘So we’ll talk in the morning, Lou, okay?’
My mouth turns dry. ‘We will.’
Five minutes later, James’s tyres crunch over the gravelled driveway as he leaves for work. I wander down the hallway into the front room, testing Cory’s milk on my wrist.
The television is showing the six o’clock local news, but despite scanning the bulletins, as well as watching the rundown of the main events, there is no mention of a motorway accident. ‘I’m so sorry your bottle is late, baby,’ I say, nestling Cory into the crook of my arm before placing the teat of the bottle to his lips. He quickly latches on to it and begins to guzzle it down, his eyes alight with happiness. I smile down at him, enjoying the brief moment of calm where the bond we share erases every bad thing which has ever happened to me. With Cory in my arms, my guilt about the past, and the pain I have harboured for so many years, simply melts away. As I look deep into his eyes, something flickers in my peripheral vision. Slowly, I turn around to look at what it is.
My lungs empty of air as I realise what I am looking at. The card I threw in the outside bin this morning has reappeared.
It is sitting at the centre of my mantelpiece!
CHAPTER TWELVE
James
After
‘This interview is being recorded at Blacon Police Station in Chester. It is now Wednesday 27th December 2014 and it is exactly twelve midday. I am DC 3345 Gillian Lawrie and the other police officer present is…’
‘…DC 3356 Michael Kennedy.’
‘I really don’t care for these formalities. I need you to find out what the hell has happened!’ I glare at the male police officer who sits opposite me.
‘Mr Carter, we understand that this is an emotional time,’ says the female DC, Lawrie or whatever her name is, ‘but I will have to ask you to calm down.’
I breathe in through my nose in an attempt to slacken some of the tension in my jaw. If you were here with me, Louisa, you’d place your hand on my leg and give it a squeeze. You wouldn’t speak out loud but a warning would flash across your eyes. ‘Keep your cool, James,’ you’d silently plead. ‘Do as the nice officers say.’
‘So what is it you want to know? What am I actually doing here?’
‘James, can you give us your full name please?’ continues DC Lawrie as if I haven’t spoken, her soft Edinburgh accent elongating her vowels.
I tut. ‘James Daniel Carter.’
‘And your date of birth?’