You weren’t pregnant that time, and I smiled a week later when you phoned me and confessed how heartbroken you were. Join the club, I wanted to say, but of course I didn’t.
Then three months later you sent me a WhatsApp picture message of a positive pregnancy test accompanied by three smiley emojis.
Can you even imagine how that made me feel, Louisa? You had everything, and I had nothing.
Now the roles are reversed, and I am sorry for you, really I am.
But my own good fortune is seeing me through.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Louisa
Now
‘You’re having a little boy?’
Annette smirks. ‘We are. I always did want a little boy, especially after you gave birth to Cory.’
My eyes fall down to her stomach, to where bulbous fat forms a hefty triangular pouch around her midriff, the staunch denim battling to keep it all contained. Although fat, it doesn’t look like a pregnancy bump to me. It’s neither round nor taut.
‘What’s the matter, Louisa? You don’t look too well.’
‘No, I’m fine.’ I bat away her comment, knowing I need time in which to process everything. There is no way I can accuse her outright of wanting to steal my child. Not unless I want to run the risk of being sectioned before dessert has even been served. ‘I’m sorry, will you excuse me?’ The wooden chair scrapes across the laminate flooring as I stand, the sound setting my teeth on edge.
‘Lou, honey?’ James grabs my wrist, his fingernails digging into my skin. ‘You all right?’
‘I’ve just said I’m fine.’ I lean against the dining-room table for support. Blood rushes to my head causing the room to spin once again. I have to stop taking the antidepressants before they send me over the edge. ‘I need to get some fresh air.’ Yanking my arm away from James, I stumble the width of the room, the floor like elastic under my feet.
The hallway is dark and cold. I use the wall for support as I push on towards the kitchen, certain a panic attack is imminent.
The first thing I notice as I enter the kitchen is that the back door is wide open. ‘James! Quick!’
He appears at the kitchen door in a matter of seconds, his eyes wide. ‘What? Lou, what’s the matter?
‘Somebody’s broken in.’
‘What, who?’ he shouts, looking over my shoulder towards the open door.
Behind him, everyone is gawping at me.
‘What do you mean, somebody’s broken in? How do you know? The glass isn’t smashed. Has something gone missing?’
I shake my head, James’s multitude of questions all piling up on top of one another, making it difficult for me to answer any. ‘No, but the door is wide open and it wasn’t before.’
‘Louisa…’ Annette sidesteps James and makes her way over towards me, her smile morphing into a smirk as she approaches. ‘When I came in earlier you’d just been outside, remember? Did you shut the door behind you when you came in?’
James sighs. ‘Bloody hell, Lou. You failed to mention that!’
I shake my head, my brain alive with static. Why can’t I be certain of anything? What’s happening to me? ‘I did shut the door. I’m sure of it!’ I stare down at my feet, knowing I have to speak my fears out loud. ‘What if the donor’s upstairs?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ James’s voice teeters on the edge of fury.
I look up at him, my voice breaking up in my throat. ‘I’m not being ridiculous! I know what I saw in that card even if you refuse to believe me.’
‘Lou… calm down, honey.’ Magda steps forward, her voice small. ‘Where has all this come from, hey?’
I look from her to Annette and back again, no longer sure of anything. Wasn’t it just a moment ago I thought Annette and Ron were going to kidnap Cory?
‘Louisa, I don’t think you’re well. Let’s have a chat… mother to mother.’ Annette reaches out her hand towards me, as if she’s about to stroke my arm.
I bat her away, more harshly than I should but I don’t care any more. ‘Leave me alone. I don’t trust you!’
‘What?’ She backs away from me, her movements small, as if I’m a frightened deer who shouldn’t be startled. ‘What do you mean, you don’t trust me? What are you talking about, for heaven’s sake?’
‘You came into the kitchen earlier,’ says Helen to Annette. ‘When Magda and Louisa were upstairs. Was the door open then?’
Annette shrugs. ‘Can’t say I noticed. I was very upset. You know, about the reaction I got when sharing my good news? I mean, after all those years of waiting and…’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, it isn’t all about you!’ I can’t help myself, my words toppling from my mouth before I have chance to stop them.
‘Lou… uncalled for.’ James glares at me. ‘Stop it now!’
‘Look…’ I turn to Annette, my voice verging on desperation. ‘Was the door open or not when you came in? Please just tell me.’
‘Like I’ve already said,’ she says after a second’s pause, ‘I can’t remember. And anyway…’ She turns to Helen. ‘You came in here after me, wanting a paracetamol.’
Helen’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. ‘That was before you did. In fact James went in after me to find the champagne because Ron was demanding a toast.’
James shakes his head. ‘That was ages ago.’
‘For fuck’s sake!’ I ignore the look of horror on everyone’s faces, no longer caring what they think of me. ‘Do any of you remember the door being open?’
They all shake their heads in unison.
‘So that means somebody’s in the house. Oh shit!’ I cover my mouth, certain I’m going to puke. ‘Cory’s upstairs!’ I push my way in between Ron and Helen, knowing only that I have to protect Cory.
‘Louisa!’ Annette grabs hold of my forearm, yanking me back. ‘Stop being so bloody stupid. The donor hasn’t come back to take your child, for God’s sake, it’s all nonsense. You need to let it go.’
I swivel round, every inch of my body clenched as I wrench my arm away from her. ‘Get off me now! I have to check on my son.’
‘I’ll check on him, for the love of God,’ shouts James, pushing past me. ‘And thanks for letting everyone know I’m not Cory’s dad, Lou! Thanks a bunch!’
‘The end of all things is at hand; therefore be self-controlled and sober-minded.’ 1 Peter 4: 7
It is somewhat interesting, watching her distress, being witness to the unfurling of her mind. I wouldn’t say pleasant as such. It’s not as if I’m a psychopath after all, just a person with a purpose greater than oneself. But the minds of human beings have always fascinated me; the way their greatest fears float far back into their subconscious memory like ghosts in the night. It only takes a little exorcism to bring them forth, a psychological lobotomy of the brain to bleed such terrors into the frontal lobe. Of course I have much experience with the unravelling of minds. You don’t work in a profession like mine without witnessing your fair share of cracked psyches, now do you? There is only so much one person can take after all. Don’t I understand that more than most?
When all of this began, I had wondered how long it would take to reach this pivotal point. I had of course considered every possible scenario beforehand, leaving nothing to chance. It wasn’t good enough for others to simply believe our friend Louisa had ‘blown her gasket’; it was important, in the name of authenticity, that she actually did. After all, it simply wouldn’t have done to risk a sane person spouting their mouth off, especially if, by some circumstance beyond my control, the end game had taken a twisting turn.