‘I don’t, but he’s obviously been worried or one stupid comment from the nanny wouldn’t have set him off like this. She was two weeks early after all and—’
‘Oh my god,’ I said. ‘I don’t believe this is happening. I thought we were through all this. If I agree, can you calm him down? I don’t mind telling you he frightens me when he’s like this.’
Isadora went very quiet.
‘Charlotte … you know you can tell me anything, right?’
‘I’m telling the truth. Melody is his. She couldn’t be Ewan’s …’ I almost bit my tongue as Ewan’s name came from my lips.
‘I know that. I meant … has Tom ever hit you?’
‘Good grief no! But …’
‘Sometimes you’ve thought he might?’
‘Yes,’ I choked out the word.
‘I won’t ever let anything happen to you, or Melody. Just agree to the test and I’ll calm him down.’
‘I will but … will it hurt Melody?’
‘No. It’s just a saliva swab.’
‘Okay.’
***
A short time later, Isadora arrived with a doctor friend of hers. I sent Tina out on an errand so that she didn’t see what was going on.
‘This won’t hurt her at all and we’ll have the results in a few hours. I already have your husband’s sample to make the comparison,’ said the doctor.
I glanced at Isadora. She nodded.
I was somewhat railroaded. Maybe they both thought Melody wasn’t Tom’s. I let the doctor swap Melody’s cheek and, although she cried in confusion, I knew it didn’t harm her. Then he went away with the swab and Isadora in tow.
‘I’ll ring with the result as soon as possible,’ she said.
I picked Melody up and rocked her, then I gave her another bottle to settle her down again. She was dozing in my arms when Tina returned.
Tom didn’t come home at the usual time that night. I knew he was waiting for that conversation with the doctor before facing me again. Even though it wasn’t possible, I searched Melody’s little features for any sign of Ewan Daniels. I couldn’t see it, but neither could I see Tom. Melody was like the few baby pictures of me that still existed and she also looked like herself.
My phone rang at 7.55 p.m. as I put Melody down after her final feed. It was Isadora.
‘Tom’s confirmed as the father,’ she said. ‘You see, I told you it would be okay.’
A few minutes later, as though he’d been waiting outside, Tom came home.
‘Hi darling.’ He kissed me on the cheek and then went straight to Melody’s room. I followed him down the corridor. ‘Look at our beautiful angel.’
My face was flushed with fury. I wanted to shout at him, call him all the names under the sun and then, he was on his knees in front of me begging me to understand.
‘I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. Mother already bollocked me!’
Tom wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my now-flat stomach.
‘I love you. I’m so afraid all the time that you’ll leave me.’
My anger evaporated in a rush and was replaced by the ongoing guilt. It was my fault he felt like this. How could I blame him?
‘We’re both idiots,’ I said stroking his hair. ‘We have to stop dredging this up. I thought we were happy and then—’
‘We are happy. Everything is fine. This was just a hurdle we had to face.’
He stood and kissed me as though that fixed everything.
‘Come into the kitchen,’ he said.
Then he foraged in the large fridge for cheese and pâté and pulled a pack of crackers from one of the cupboards: all of his favourite comfort foods.
I opened a bottle of wine and sat down at the breakfast bar while Tom put out plates, glasses, butter and knives.
That sinking depression returned. I hadn’t felt like that since before the weekend at the Manor and I didn’t like it at all.
‘Cheer up,’ Tom said.
I blinked and forced a smile on my lips. Tom poured me a glass of wine and I hid my continuing unhappiness by swigging some of it. My mood swung from anger to guilt and then to despondency. Tom drank his first glass and refilled it and mine in between eating crackers and pâté. I picked at some cheese but wasn’t feeling particularly hungry.
It was a relief when Melody began to cry. I hurried off to take care of her, leaving Tom to finish the wine bottle on his own.
***
Melody cried and cried. I rocked her in my arms as I sat in the padded rocking chair.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ asked Tom.
‘Colic, I think.’
Melody let out another pain-filled yell and I massaged her stomach to help relieve her wind.
‘Go to bed, I’ll try and settle her,’ I said.
Tom obeyed and I was glad to be alone with Melody, but she didn’t calm down until around one in the morning. Then she fell fast asleep over my shoulder. I waited for another half an hour before I moved so as not to wake her.
Once she was in her cot I sat back down in the rocker and watched her.
Then I closed my eyes and nodded off in the chair.
***
I dreamed that Tom came in and looked at me sleeping but didn’t wake me. He was looming over me, overly large, like a comic book villain. My dream self was scared: I knew he wanted to kill me. There was such rage in his eyes and his over-large fists clenched at his sides as though he could barely prevent himself from losing control. Then, dream Tom turned away. He went over to the cot and picked Melody up, looked at her face, as though he searched still for the image of another man in her features. He dangled Melody over me. I wanted to snatch her from him, afraid his big monstrous hands would crush her delicate ribs, or worse, he’d toss her aside like a rag doll. I was paralyzed with fear, unable to scream or move.
‘She’d better be mine,’ dream monster Tom said …
I woke up trembling. My heart thudded painfully in my chest. The dream paralysis remained for a split second and then I leaned forward and looked into Melody’s cot, only to discover she wasn’t there.
I hurried out of the room and into our bedroom. Tom wasn’t there and neither was our daughter. Rising panic made my heart pound. Where were they? I rushed down the corridor and into the living room.
I found Tom asleep on the sofa and Melody was safe inside the Moses basket.
‘Tom? You took her while I slept,’ I said, shaking him.
He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. ‘She was crying and I didn’t want her to wake you. So, I brought her in here and gave her a bottle.’
‘She’s well away now,’ I said.
I picked the basket up and took it into the nursery and placed it inside the cot. Then we both went to bed.
Tom was soon asleep and I envied his ability to do that. My heart was still racing, and the early panic escalated as I remembered my horrible dream. Had I been aware on some level that Tom had stood watching me and then taken Melody away? Tom was Melody’s father. He loved our daughter. But I couldn’t quell the fear that he was capable of hurting not only me, but Melody as well. I didn’t know where this awful paranoia came from – perhaps it was natural for new mothers to have anxiety dreams about their babies.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Like every other one before it, that year’s Carlisle Charity Fundraiser was a huge success. But as the closing speeches were made and the cheque presented to the Macmillan Nurses by David Danner, I noticed how subdued Isadora was. I didn’t sneak off into the bathroom to hide this time but took my place beside Tom on the stage. I tried not to think of the last fundraiser, or the texts I’d received from Ewan.
After the presentation Tom and I stood by the door to shake hands and say goodbye to everyone. There were a large number of Tom’s business contemporaries at the event, and they were all patting themselves on their backs for their generosity.
‘Everyone was very charitable,’ I said to Tom.
‘Yes.
They think it makes up for what they do the rest of the time.’
‘You mean not giving to charity?’
‘No. I mean the wheeling and dealing and semi-legal investments that makes everyone in this room so wealthy.’
‘But not you though? Or Carlisle Corp?’ I said.
‘We do everything legally, you know that. But not everyone does,’ Tom said.
‘How do you know?’
‘It’s my business to know. Any information I have on these people can be used to my advantage.’
I glanced at Tom, a little surprised by this revelation. He rarely discussed business with me.
‘You mean … you blackmail them?’
Tom laughed. ‘Silly!’
When the last of the people had gone, I walked around the ballroom to give the staff the final instructions about the table decorations. The flowers were to be donated to the local church and care homes. Then I went to fetch my wrap from the cloakroom.
As I was searching in my bag for my ticket, I heard muffled voices coming from behind a curtain that dropped to the floor.
I recognized Tom’s voice but not the other man’s.
‘No unusual activity?’ Tom asked.
‘Nothing,’ said the other man.
‘What about the phone?’ Tom asked.
‘No calls to anyone new. Just the normal.’
‘Good. But keep checking.’
‘Mr C, there’s been nothing and there won’t be anything.’
‘What about the other one?’
‘Your wife is as good as gold,’ said the man. ‘She showed no interest at all.’
I put my hand over my mouth as I fought the urge to cry out in shock.
‘Here,’ Tom said. ‘It’s all there. Count it if you like.’
I imagined Tom holding out an envelope stuffed with money.
‘I trust you,’ said the man. ‘So, surveillance continues?’
‘Yes.’
‘For how much longer?’
‘I’ll tell you when to stop.’
I hurried to the cloakroom as I heard movement on the other side of the curtain. At the counter I gave the girl my ticket and she brought my wrap and Tom’s overcoat.
‘Ah there you are,’ said Tom behind me.
I didn’t say anything as we settled into the back of the limo. But I texted Tina to say that we were on our way home.
‘Did you enjoy the evening?’ Tom asked me.
‘Yes. It was a success.’
‘You did a wonderful job.’
‘Thank you,’ I said.
Tom put his arm around me and pulled me to him. I buried my face in his chest.
Tom kissed the top of my head and murmured that he loved me. I pretended to doze against him and stayed silent.
My mind was racing. I couldn’t hide it from myself any longer: Tom still didn’t trust me. The man he’d been talking to had to be a private detective. I was being monitored night and day to see if I would betray him again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I caught a cab to the gym the next day, choosing not to chat to the driver, even though he tried to engage me with a few friendly questions. At the gym, I attended my regular class and then went for a swim, but I avoided making eye contact with anyone, especially men. I kept glancing around, trying to assess if everyone there was a genuine member or if they were being paid to watch me.
When I left the gym I kept looking over my shoulder. Every man I saw that appeared to be hanging around was potentially the man I’d heard behind the curtain. Normally I’d have gone into a coffee shop to get lunch and a latte before heading back, but that day I went straight home.
Tina was changing Melody when I arrived back.
‘Did you pick up the colic drops?’ she asked when I came into Melody’s room.
‘Oh no! I forgot!’
‘Want me to get them?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Thanks. I don’t feel like going out again.’
Tina left me to my own devices. I found myself looking at my phone, wondering how it was being monitored.
Half an hour later Tina returned.
‘These are the best ones,’ she said. ‘She’ll need them regularly, to prevent another night of screaming. Poor thing, it’s so painful having colic. I’ve also bought some of these new bottles with a straw inside that reduce the air getting in.’
‘I should have remembered to collect them. Good idea on the bottles. I didn’t know about those. I’m a terrible mother,’ I said.
‘Charlotte,’ Tina said, ‘you absolutely aren’t a terrible mother! Don’t be so hard on yourself. Motherhood isn’t easy and you’re a lot more hands-on than most women I’ve worked for. Some people hire a nanny because they don’t want to bring up their own kids. You use me in the right way to give yourself the break you deserve. In fact, you should take advantage of me much more.’
‘I might be going out a bit less,’ I said.
Tina looked at me and laughed. ‘You don’t have to do that! You should take more breaks if anything. Otherwise you’re paying me for doing very little.’
I didn’t explain to her why I was feeling like I just shouldn’t go anywhere. The paranoia was so strong I wondered if my home had hidden cameras and recording devices to listen in to my conversations. If Tom was spending time and money on monitoring me, surely that was the easiest way?
I placed Melody on the floor on her play mat with a mobile toy bridged over her. Then I went into the kitchen and made Tina and I lunch.
‘What are you doing?’ she said. ‘I should do that.’
‘I enjoy it,’ I said, knowing Tina couldn’t argue with that.
At the end of the day, as Tina left, I almost told her what was bothering me but held back. I so needed a friend, but how did I know that she wasn’t also watching me and reporting my movements to Tom? After all she was among the women initially vetted by Isadora.
I took Melody out with me the next day and went for a walk to the local park. There were several mothers sitting together chatting as their children played on the swings and slide. I sat away from them, Melody’s pram by my side, while I watched the other children having fun.
A year ago I wouldn’t have imagined sitting like an ordinary woman in a normal park. My plans for the future had been different, and with someone else.
Even though I’d sworn to forget him, Ewan’s face came back into view. I closed my eyes. The hurt surged up again inside me. I should probably talk to Tom about what I’d overheard. Perhaps there was an explanation? Maybe I’d been mistaken. But even as I tried to convince myself that this was likely my stomach turned.
‘Hi!’
I opened my eyes and looked up at a very attractive businessman. He was very like Ewan – blond hair, blue eyes. And he had boyish charm oozing from him. I was too shocked to reply.
‘Do you mind if I sit here?’ he said. ‘Lunch break …’
I glanced at the empty bench beside me and nodded.
The man took a seat.
I leaned over Melody’s pram and checked on her. The fresh air and pram ride had sent her to sleep. I smiled as I watched her.
‘First one?’ the man asked.
‘What?’
‘First child? Yours, right?’
‘Yes. She’s mine. And it’s my only one.’
‘Hard work,’ he said. ‘Can be lonely when the father is out all day.’
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck and a bitter chill ran down my spine. I shuddered and then I turned my head to look at the man. He was smiling at me: secure in his good looks. I knew then that he was trying to pick me up. Did I appear to be available? Or was I being tested?
I picked up my handbag and stood.
‘You leaving already?’ he said.
‘I’m not interested,’ I said.
Then I released the brake on Melody’s pram and pushed it away.
I didn’t look back at the man, instead I glanced around the park and over to the street across fro
m it. There I saw another man sitting on a low wall. He was definitely watching me. My stomach lurched.
I’m just imagining it, I thought. But I knew I wasn’t. That man had been sent to talk to me. I turned Melody’s pram around and wheeled towards the flat, trying to put as much distance between the businessman and us.
As I reached the end of the road, and was about to cross the street, I glanced back to see the businessman talking to the man on the wall. There was no doubt now. My instinct was right. What would these two strangers have to say to each other? This was a residential area anyway, so why would some random business-type take his lunch here? It was all too contrived. Something else occurred to me then, the ordinary – so forgettable – man sitting on the wall was a type. The type of man I’d seen before. Like the man wearing brogues. How long had I been followed?
I was trembling when I arrived home. Melody woke up as we entered the flat, and Tina took her away to feed and change. I put the kettle on, trying to appear normal, but inside I was so upset I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t deny the truth no matter what I did. Not only was I being followed, but they were also trying to set me up. To try to trap me.
I couldn’t take anymore. Enough was enough.
‘Tina, you can go early today,’ I said. ‘I don’t need you this afternoon.’
‘Are you sure? It’s only three?’
‘Yes. Take the time while you can, as I may need you more another day.’
‘Okay,’ she said.
When she had gone I sat in the living room staring at the clock. Then I sent Tom a text.
I’m not putting up with this. You either deal with it or we are through.
I was in the kitchen making up a bottle for Melody’s night feed when Tom came home. He was early. He stormed into the kitchen and dropped his briefcase down beside the breakfast bar.
‘What does this mean?’ he demanded. ‘And why won’t you answer when I’m calling you?’
His cheeks were flushed and he looked angry and stressed.
‘You’ve been paying someone to follow me.’
‘Don’t be rid—’
‘Don’t lie to me. I heard you.’
‘What did you hear?’ he said.
‘I heard you and some detective. At the fundraiser.’
The Stranger in Our Bed Page 13
