They settled on the following Wednesday and Joss began to look forward to the trip. Her aimless visits to the attic stopped and she helped Lyn prepare Tom for the animals, looking at pictures of elephants and lions and tigers and telling him stories about the other animals they thought they would see there.
On Tuesday night Tom was sleepless with excitement. ‘It’s our own fault.’ Wearily Joss stood up. They were sitting at the kitchen table finishing supper when the baby alarm had crackled into life for the second time that evening. ‘It’s my turn. I’ll go and see to him.’
She let herself into the great hall, hearing Tom’s cries for real now, not through the plastic alarm on the kitchen dresser. Hurrying to the foot of the stairs she peered up into the dark and reached for the light switch.
The shadow on the wall at the angle of the stairs was clearly that of a man. Hunched towards her menacingly it hovered above her as she clutched at the banister. Paralysed with fear she stood for a moment staring up towards it, Tom’s screams echoing in her ears.
‘Tom!’ Her whisper was anguished as she put her foot on the bottom step, forcing herself to move towards it. ‘Tom!’
One of its arms was moving slightly, beckoning her onwards. She froze, willing herself upwards, craning her neck towards the landing. Luke’s waterproof jacket was hanging jauntily from the carved acorn knob at the top of the stairs. What she had seen was its shadow.
That night she had a nightmare which woke her shivering and sweating. In her dream a huge metal drum on legs had walked slowly towards her across the room. On top of it a jaunty tricorn hat belied the evil expression in its two press-stud eyes. Its arms like giant linked paper clips were stretched out towards her, its method of propulsion hidden by the gleaming aluminium of its body. She awoke with a start and lay there, too afraid to move, her heart thundering in her chest. Beside her Luke stirred and groaned. She listened intently. Beyond his gentle snores there was silence. No sounds from Tom. No sounds from the house. There did not seem to be a breath of wind outside in the garden.
When she awoke at last it was with a splitting headache. She sat up and groped for the alarm clock and then fell back on the pillow with a groan. She could hear Lyn talking cheerfully to Tom as she got him up. The little boy was giggling happily. Of Luke there was no sign.
By the time the others had had breakfast she knew she couldn’t go with them to the zoo. Her head was spinning and she was so tired she could barely move.
‘We’ll put it off; go another day.’ Luke bent over her, concerned.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No, you can’t disappoint Tom. You go. I’ll go back to bed and sleep the rest of the morning. Then I’ll do some work on the book. Honestly. I’ll be fine.’
She waved them off, torn by Tom’s tears when he found his mummy wasn’t coming too, and then, her head throbbing she turned back towards the house.
It was after two when she awoke. The morning sun had gone and the sky was overcast and sullen. As she made her way downstairs she could hear the wind in the huge chimney.
Making herself a cup of tea and a Marmite sandwich she sat for a long time at the kitchen table before at last reaching for her jacket.
At the edge of the lake she stopped, her hands in her pockets, watching the gusty wind blow sheets of black ripples across the water. Staring down into its depths she hunched her shoulders against the cold, deliberately fending off the thought of a little boy with his jam jar of tadpoles bending towards the water on the slippery bank.
She tensed at a sound behind her. Turning she surveyed the lawn. There was no one there. She listened, straining her ears to separate sounds from the roar of the wind in her ears, but there was nothing.
Turning she began to walk slowly back towards the house. Another cup of tea and she would go back to the book. She had wasted too much time day dreaming; she had a novel to write.
Sammy!
One hand on the mouse the other on the keyboard she looked up, listening. Someone was running down the stairs.
Sammy! Play with me!
Holding her breath she stood up slowly and tiptoed towards the door.
‘Hello? Who’s there?’ Reaching out to the doorknob she turned it slowly. ‘Hello?’ Peering out into the hall she squinted up the staircase into the shadows. ‘Is there someone there? Sammy? Georgie?’
The silence was electric; as if someone else too were holding their breath and waiting.
‘Sammy? Georgie?’ She was clutching the doorknob as though her life depended on it, a thin film of perspiration icing her shoulder blades.
She forced herself to take a step out into the hall, and then, slowly, she began to climb the stairs.
‘You know better than to ask me for sleeping pills.’ Simon sat on the chair next to her in the study. He was watching her closely. ‘Come on now. What is it? You’re not afraid of the birth?’
‘A little. What woman isn’t.’ Joss hauled herself up from her chair and went to stand at the window with her back to him, wanting to hide her face. Outside, Lyn and Tom were playing football on the grass. Not too near the water, she wanted to shout. Don’t go too near. But of course Lyn wouldn’t let him go too near. Even if she did there was a solid wall of vegetation round the lake now – dead nettles, brambles, a tangle of old man’s beard.
Sammy
The voice calling, was loud in the room. It was the third time she had heard it that morning. She swung round and stared at the doctor. ‘Did you hear that?’
Simon frowned. ‘What? Sorry?’
‘Someone calling. Didn’t you hear?’
He shook his head. ‘Come and sit down Joss.’
She hesitated, then she went and perched on the low chair opposite him. ‘I must be hearing things.’ She forced herself to smile.