Jade nodded, still looking unhappy. Very. Mark hoped this didn’t cause her to leave.
‘I’ll go to the chemist,’ Jade offered, dredging up a smile from somewhere. ‘Get some formula. I’m sure Evie will be fine, Mark. Don’t worry.’
Mark closed his eyes, relief surging through him. If anyone knew what to do here, it was Jade. ‘That would be great. Thanks.’
‘No problem,’ she assured him. ‘Do you want to come with me, Poppy?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Poppy nodded quickly, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere than home right now.
‘I could take Evie, too,’ Jade suggested. ‘We shouldn’t be too long. It might give you a chance to…’ She nodded diplomatically towards the stairs. ‘If Mel wouldn’t mind me taking her car, that is?’
‘I’m sure she won’t.’ Mark nodded to the keys on the work surface, and then crouched to give Poppy a firm hug. ‘Be good, Poppet,’ he said, his heart twisting as he noted the bewilderment in her eyes. ‘And remember, Jade’s in charge while Mummy’s not feeling well. Make sure to do everything she tells you to. Okay?’
‘I will,’ Poppy promised, with a brave little nod.
‘Good girl.’ Mark kissed her forehead and straightened up.
Hearing Jade shushing Evie and chatting to Poppy as he went up the stairs, assuring her that Dory would be fine, left in her special fish water in the sink, Mark counted his blessings. He’d worried about her qualifications when Mel had employed her so quickly. That had been one long month ago, and clearly his worries had been unfounded. Not only was she competent enough to care for the children in a crisis, she was caring enough to want to. She was indispensable. Mark knew that now with certainty. He’d need to do all he could to make sure she had access to everything she needed, including Mel’s car. If Jade stayed – and he prayed that she did – she would need to drive it on a regular basis.
* * *
Mark’s first reaction when he woke in the small hours was surprise at the complete silence. His second was panic as he reached for Mel to find her side of the bed empty.
He threw back the duvet, almost falling over it in his scramble to pull on his tracksuit bottoms before heading for the landing. Seeing no glimmer of light from downstairs, he went straight to the nursery, glancing into Poppy’s room as he did. She was fast asleep, Hercules lying loyally at the foot of her bed. She’d obviously been fighting with the duvet too. Bidding Hercules to stay, Mark crept quietly in to ease the covers back over his daughter’s small form.
The nursery door was closed, unusually. Both he and Mel preferred it left open a fraction. Warily, Mark listened outside and then, hearing no sound, he pressed down the handle and went inside, looking apprehensively over to the cot as he did.
Evie, lying on her tummy, one tiny hand to the side of her face, appeared to be sleeping. Needing to reassure himself, Mark took a breath and stepped further in. Seeing his baby girl’s eyelids flutter as her mind chased her dreams, he closed his own eyes and allowed himself to breathe out.
Mel was standing in the middle of the room, though she gave no indication she knew he was there. She was quite still, her arms wrapped tightly about herself. Not sure what to do next, wondering whether she might even be sleepwalking, Mark hesitated for a second, watching her watching Evie, and then, noticing her shoulders tense as she breathed deeply in, he walked quietly across to her.
‘I wouldn’t hurt her,’ Mel murmured, as he stopped behind her.
‘I know.’ Hearing the wretchedness in her voice and wondering how long she’d been standing here, quietly crying, Mark felt his heart hitch. ‘I know you wouldn’t, Mel,’ he said, placing his arms around her and desperately trying to quash the feeling that, if he let go, he might lose her.
Thirty-Four
MELISSA
Melissa willed her body to respond, her mind screaming. Her heart constricted inside her; she tried to run, to breathe, but her feet were weighed down by the swirling nothing beneath her. The air was too thick, too putrid; choking smoke seared her lungs. Petrified, she tried to reach Evie. Tried to push and prise them away, the hands that clutched and clawed at her legs, disembodied arms rising and writhing like pale grey vines from the mire. She was crying. Pitiful whimpers turned to terrified tears – her baby was crying. Someone was shaking her, hurting her, and she… couldn’t…
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word…
Jade?
‘Morning,’ Jade greeted her cheerily.
Prising heavy-lidded eyes open, Mel blinked hard against the bright light the girl seemed to be bathed in.
‘Morning,’ Jade said again, standing over her. ‘I brought you some tea.’
Attempting to focus, Mel gulped hard against the parched dryness of her throat, and struggled to lever herself up.
‘Hold on,’ Jade said, taking a step to the side.
Squinting, Mel registered the sunlight filtering through the slatted blinds. Her blinds at her bedroom window, she realised, immense relief washing through her.
‘You were sleeping like a baby.’ Jade bobbed back into view. ‘We didn’t like to wake you, so—’
‘We?’
‘Mark,’ Jade clarified, leaning down to help her with her pillows. ‘He said you hadn’t fallen asleep until after three, so we thought it was best not to disturb you.’
There was that ‘we’ again. Mel wasn’t sure she liked it. Or being left to sleep until some ridiculous time. Her sleep patterns had been erratic, to say the least, when she’d been unwell before. She’d had no reason, not even the will, to get out of bed then. But things were different now. She had a family, and suddenly, paranoid though it might be, she felt excluded from it. Routine was what she needed, to get up and get on with it. She didn’t want to give in, to lie in bed, battling nightmares that seemed too real to be dreams and slipping further into her black hole. ‘Where is he?’ she asked, pushing the duvet back and attempting to pull herself into a sitting position, no easy task with her brain and body seemingly immersed in soft treacle.
Jade reached a hand out to steady her. ‘He’s taken Poppy to school. And Evie’s due her check-up, so he—’
‘Mark’s taken her?’ Mel asked, surprised. ‘But doesn’t he need to be at work?’
‘He said he wanted to spend some time with her. I was ready to take her, but—’
‘Wanted to keep her out of harm’s way, more likely,’ Mel growled. Seeing the alarmed expression on Jade’s face, she felt immediately guilty. Again.
‘He means well, Melissa,’ Jade said, tentatively, obviously wary of being interrupted or snapped at. ‘I know how you feel, honestly I do. Sometimes you just want people to go away and not treat you as if you’re incapable, but he is trying to be helpful.’
He was. She knew he was. Mel sighed inwardly, and then looked at Jade curiously as her thoughts caught up with her. ‘Do you? Know how I feel?’
Jade hesitated, and then reluctantly nodded. ‘I was on medication, too,’ she admitted, now looking awkward. ‘Only for a short while, after my parents…’ Mel searched her face, attempting to digest this new information about her babysitter. ‘I’m fine now. I probably should have mentioned it before, but…’ Dropping her gaze, Jade trailed embarrassedly off.
‘You thought I wouldn’t employ you?’ Mel finished, empathising completely. There was more understanding of mental illness nowadays but still there was prejudice and fear of the unknown. Mel had experienced it herself. She’d never imagined Mark might think her incapable of looking after her own children though.
Jade nodded slowly. ‘Sorry,’ she said, in a small voice.
And Mel despaired utterly of herself. The girl had been efficient, genuinely caring towards Poppy and Evie, falling over herself to help out. More than that, she was prepared to stick around when many people wouldn’t. Most people, in fact. And how had she shown her appreciation? By accusing her of sabotaging her milk supply, when it had obviously been just an unfortunate accident. Jade must feel awful.
>
‘Don’t be sorry.’ Mel reached out to take her hand, and the poor girl looked as if she might burst into tears. ‘For the record, I would have employed you, and, also for the record, you’re doing a fantastic job, Jade. I’m immensely grateful.’
‘Really?’ Jade beamed at that. She had a gorgeous smile.
‘Really.’ Mel gave her hand a squeeze. ‘It’s me who owes you an apology. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about the freezer. The switch is in the perfect place for getting accidentally knocked. I’ve done it myself with the kettle. Anyway, I’m sorry.’
‘Apology not necessary,’ Jade said, reaching for the tea and passing it to her. And then the tablets. Mark must have given them to her. Plainly, he was worried she’d forget to take them, or leave them lying around. Mel dearly wished she could forget to take the bloody things. She already felt woozy to the point of drunkenness. It was no wonder he’d thought she was secretly partaking of the odd tipple. She wished he hadn’t accused her of that though. It felt as though he didn’t trust her.
Mel stared at the tiny, innocuous-looking tablets Jade offered her.
‘They’ll help,’ she urged, as Mel hesitated.
‘Not for the next few weeks.’ Aware of what the side effects were, which would only get worse before she got better, Mel sighed, but took them anyway and washed them down with the tea. ‘As long as you don’t mind coping with the mood swings,’ she said, feeling a little easier confiding in Jade now that Jade had confided in her.
‘I’ll look the other way if you throw a wobbly,’ Jade promised.
Mel smiled. ‘I’d walk the other way, if I were you. I might be about to throw one.’
Jade widened her eyes worriedly. She had nice eyes, Mel thought. True baby blue, and as innocent as a baby’s too.
‘The hair.’ She rolled her eyes upwards. ‘What on earth am I going to do with it?’
Jade cocked her head to one side. ‘Dye it back,’ she said. ‘In fact, I might join you. I quite fancy going copper. Meanwhile, wear it up. Come on, I’ll show you.’
Taking hold of Mel’s hands, she pulled her to her feet and steered her towards the wardrobe mirror, where she proceeded to gather her hair and pull it into a topknot.
Ouch! Rather too roughly, Mel thought, but felt it impolite to point out.
‘Like this, see?’ Jade smiled, and waited for her reaction.
Mel studied her reflection. It was an improvement, she supposed, but she doubted she’d look as bright and bouncy as Jade any time soon. Jaded is how she looked – pale and drawn. How had this happened, she wondered again, her resolve waning a little, which wasn’t helped by the room spinning in slow revolutions around her. Mel wondered about that, too. How it was she’d felt so spaced out before she’d even started the medication.
‘You should wear some blusher,’ Jade said, surveying her thoughtfully. ‘Until you get the colour back in your cheeks.’
So she’d noticed her sallow complexion too. ‘I can imagine what Mark will think about that,’ Mel said, with another roll of her eyes. Other than a little concealer beneath her eyes, she hardly ever wore make up around the house, clay spatters on top of blusher not being a good look. He’d probably think she was off to proposition another waiter. Recalling her drunken endeavours at seduction, the waiter’s horrified expression and Mark’s clear mortification, Mel winced inwardly.
‘Think about what?’ Mark asked, eyeing her curiously as he came through the open bedroom door.
‘Mel wearing her hair up,’ Jade supplied, diplomatically leaving out the pale and uninteresting bit. ‘What do you think?’
Mark looked at Mel through the mirror as Jade demonstrated her proposed up-do. ‘Sexy,’ he said, smiling.
It didn’t reach his eyes, though, Mel noticed. There was no mischievous glint there, no subtle innuendo. He looked wretched, as pale as she was, and utterly exhausted.
‘I, er, should go. Running late,’ he said, reaching for his mobile. Out of habit, Mel wondered, as he pocketed it again without checking it, or did he not want to check his messages in front of her? ‘Will you be okay, Mel?’
‘Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?’ Irked by what felt like his patronising concern, Mel replied sharply – and then immediately regretted it.
‘I’ll go and see to Evie,’ Jade said, tactfully excusing herself from the situation. ‘Is she still in her carrier, Mark?’
‘In the lounge, fast asleep,’ Mark confirmed, turning his confused gaze away from Mel towards Jade. ‘She’s due a feed soon, so I thought I’d leave her for the moment.’
‘Brilliant.’ Jade headed towards the door. ‘That’ll give me a chance to get it ready.’
‘Thanks, Jade.’ And this time his smile was one of relief, tinged with palpable sadness.
Mel felt her heart sink. He didn’t want to be here. How could he? And then her stomach lurched as she noticed Jade reach out to brush his arm with her hand. Bewildered, Mel turned away from the mirror. Why would she do that? Commiseration? Reassurance? It was too intimate a gesture. She must know that. He must. Right here in front of her. In her bedroom.
‘Mel? Are you all right?’ Mark asked, as she turned swiftly to the en suite.
‘I’m fine! For God’s sake…’ Please, just stop asking. Mel closed the door and turned to lean against it, desperately trying to hold back the useless, pathetic tears. To convince herself it was just her paranoia at play, misinterpreting things, yet again.
Thirty-Five
JADE
Jade had no idea why she hadn’t got rid of the girl sooner. She’d felt sorry for her, initially. How could she not, with her mother seething and raging, embarrassing her in the middle of the supermarket? The woman had been a complete witch, dressed like a trollop: short skirt, tits on show, blood-red lipstick, like an angry red slash for a mouth. Watching from across the aisle, seeing the woman’s rubbery lips exaggeratedly moving as she’d cursed and berated the child for accidentally knocking over a display stand – ‘You stupid girl! Look what you’ve done!’ – Jade had felt goosebumps prickle her skin. She recognised the child’s fear. The same fear she’d felt when her own bitch mother had snarled and scorned and walked away, leaving her with him. She felt again the ice-cold dread pooling in the pit of her stomach, the repulsion, the pain; the powerlessness as he’d pushed into her, groaning and thrusting and grunting. The hopelessness, trying to make her mother understand. It wasn’t her fault!
Daisy had said the same thing. ‘It wasn’t my fault, Mummy,’ she’d cried, huge, salty tears sliding down her cheeks as she’d looked beseechingly up at the spiteful, self-centred cow. Looking for comfort, where there was none.
It could have been her.
Irresistibly drawn, Jade had followed them, cruising past the house in the car she’d since disposed of – a car of her own being superfluous to requirements once she’d secured employment with the Cain family. Approaching on foot on her subsequent vigils, she’d watched and she’d waited. She’d seen the hysterical mother hurling accusations at the father, so drunk after a boozy party she couldn’t stand up straight. ‘You’re disgusting,’ she’d screamed, lashing out at him, her face twisted, her eyes full of hatred. ‘A fucking disgusting paedophile!’
Jade had made her decision then. They didn’t deserve to be parents. They didn’t deserve Daisy. They deserved to burn in hell. First, though, they needed to learn, to realise what they’d done. They needed to lose the child, whose innocence they were stealing, whose childhood they were breaking, whose love and trust they were abusing.
Obviously frightened of them, Daisy had come willingly when Jade had told her she was going to keep her safe – which she’d every intention of doing then. The girl had reminded her of her little sister. Annoyingly, just like her little sister, she was becoming a nuisance. Poppy had, too. But Poppy, of course, had also turned out to be spoiled beyond belief and far too demanding of Mark. Jade still hadn’t come to a decision about her. She’d so hoped Poppy would have some redeemin
g features. She didn’t want Mark to go through the unbearable grieving process of losing another child unless he absolutely had to.
This one, though… It was hard work, keeping the girl occupied and fed with Dylan constantly fretting and ringing her. And now things were moving on with Mark, she’d become a liability Jade didn’t need.
Jade sighed as Dylan fussed and twitched behind her, scared to death his mummy would discover his secret and realise what kind of a pathetic idiot he really was. She peered down at the girl, who was sleeping contentedly enough, thanks to a large dose of Calpol. ‘She’s fine,’ she told him, turning from the bed. ‘It’s just a cold. She’ll feel better after a nap.’
Dylan stared at her stupidly for a second and then, wiping his shirtsleeve under his nose, he followed her to the bedroom door. ‘You sure?’ he asked, once on the landing. ‘It’s just, she didn’t seem to be breathing right when I looked in on her last night. Chesty-like, you know?’
Jade looked him over, taking in the worry lines furrowing his brow like a five-bar gate, his jeans which were an inch too short – obviously turned up by his mother – and the wet patches under his armpits, and suppressed her immense agitation. ‘I’m her mum, Dylan. I’m also a qualified nursery nurse. I think I should know, don’t you?’
Smiling sweetly, she stroked his cheek – God forbid she should have to stroke any other part of him today – and then, feeling nauseated at the stench of body odour mingled with pig shit that seemed to permanently emanate from him, she turned quickly for the stairs.
Grabbing up her bag, she headed across the tiny living room and straight for the front door.
‘You going already?’ Dylan asked, following her like an annoying little lapdog as she stepped out and breathed in some blessed fresh air.
The Babysitter: A gripping psychological thriller with edge-of-your-seat suspense Page 16
