The Perfect Nanny

by Karen Clarke

  Chapter 31

  Sophy

  I rose from the depths of sleep once more, a sweep of gooseflesh alerting me to a presence that shouldn’t be there. Fighting through layers of tiredness I tried to sit up, but was pulled back into blackness.

  What felt like hours later, a sound inserted itself into my brain; the insistent ringing of my phone. I groped blindly at the bedside table, eyes refusing to open.

  ‘’Lo,’ I croaked, pressing the phone to my ear. My voice was thick and slurred, my tongue dry. I tried to swallow but seemed to have run out of saliva. ‘Hello?’

  No one replied, but I was sure I could hear shallow breathing. With an effort, I hoisted myself up on one elbow, squinting as light from the window assaulted my eyeballs. ‘Who is this?’

  The line went dead. Flopping onto my back I blinked at the screen with sticky, heavy eyes. I didn’t recognise the number. Couldn’t be important.

  My stomach churned and I rolled over with a groan. How long had I been sleeping? Shoving my hair off my face, I peered at my phone again: 2.30 p.m. I’d been in bed for ages.

  The silence in the house felt solid. Finn was sleeping too, I remembered. Liv had said so. She told me to listen out for him. I glanced at the baby monitor on Dom’s side of the bed, checked the green light was on. Finn always slept soundly after lunch but if he wasn’t awake by three, he wouldn’t sleep tonight.

  Hadn’t Liv said something about her mum? An image rose of her standing over me, shaking me awake, her presence knotting with a nightmare where I was fighting for air, arms pushing upwards to hold open the lid of a coffin.

  I should call Liv and find out what had happened but the effort felt too great.

  As my stomach rolled and settled, my mind cycled back to last night and I let out another groan as I recalled being violently sick before falling into bed, stomach rising and falling as though I was at sea, and crying myself to sleep.

  Dom had brought me a mug of coffee first thing, perching on the side of the bed and apologising again for not telling me sooner about Alicia.

  ‘Does your mum know?’ I’d felt relief when he gave a tight-lipped shake of his head. Part of me had wanted to go over it again, for Dom to reassure me that Alicia wasn’t going to become an even bigger problem. I kept recalling her fine-boned face, her certainty that she and Dom were in a relationship, and even while I acknowledged that she was – to use Dom’s term – delusional, I couldn’t help worrying that she wasn’t going to give up easily. But he’d looked worn out, troughs of tiredness beneath his eyes after another night spent in the nursery with Finn, and guilt had threatened to swallow me whole. Instead, I’d squeezed his hand and promised him I was feeling better, which was true. Even so, he’d asked his mother to call round as he had to go to the office and Liv had phoned to say she’d be late in. ‘Please let Mum help,’ he’d said stiffly, sensing my resistance. ‘For Finn’s sake.’

  I thought of Elizabeth the day before, telling me I didn’t deserve to be a mother. I hadn’t repeated her words to Dom, and he hadn’t asked me to elaborate. Perhaps in my nauseous state, I’d misunderstood. To her credit, she hadn’t referred to yesterday’s events – perhaps Dom had warned her not to – but after glancing at my presumably waxy face and my crumpled pyjamas had announced that I needed to line my stomach and ordered me to sit down. She’d insisted on cooking a heap of buttery mushrooms, piling them on two thick slices of toast, and I’d forced it down beneath her eagle gaze, following it with another mug of coffee. I even summoned a smile as she danced round the kitchen with Finn in her arms as though I wasn’t there. I’d wished it was me he was smiling for, wide eyes fixed on my face instead of hers, dimpled hands reaching for me and not his grandmother. But he’d looked so happy and the sight of his beaming face had sent a warm glow through my core.

  After I’d showered and dressed, as weak as if I was recovering from a bout of the flu, Elizabeth had left, remembering she’d called the vet out to look at one of the horses and that Robert was ‘out somewhere’. Almost as soon as she’d gone, the tiredness that had started to lift rolled over me in thick waves, so by the time Liv arrived, all I wanted to do was drop back into bed, pull the duvet over my head and shut out the world. Finn hadn’t settled until Liv took over, as if sensing the scale of my incompetence. I’d felt like wailing with him but my eyes were dry, the effort of holding them open almost too much to bear.

  Sympathy had burned brightly in Liv’s expression, but I’d glimpsed something else as I handed Finn over – scorn, perhaps, that I was so weak, unable to look after my son on my own. She was probably starting to think Dom would be better off with someone else, that Finn could do with a nice new mother, one who wasn’t too exhausted, or ill, to care for him. I knew she wanted to talk about the day before, find out what had happened with Dom, but I couldn’t explain until I’d had a sleep. Pausing at the top of the stairs, I’d wondered whether I should call the doctor again, but instead, held on to Natasha’s words, about how she could barely remember the first few months of Toby’s life, telling myself I’d be fine after a nap.

  Now, as sleep began another descent, I forced myself upright, yawning widely and rubbing my eyes. I reached for the glass of water by the bed and drank it in swift gulps. It was tepid, but at least my tongue felt less furry when I’d finished. As I put the glass down, my eyes grazed a photo on the dressing table, of me with Finn just after he was born, the only one of us taken in hospital because I’d been in no fit state for the first week after giving birth. I was smiling softly at Finn in my arms, a little numb from the painkillers, certain that once I was home everything would fall into place, and the maternal instinct I knew was trapped like water under ice would gush out in a steady flow.

  How wrong I’d been.

  Tears screened my eyes as I hauled myself out of bed. It wasn’t too late to try. Maybe I’d call Mum and stop pretending I was OK; ask whether she’d suffered anything like this when I was born. Maybe it was hereditary, though surely she’d have said something if that was the case – warned me, even.

  As I dropped back on the bed, I noticed I’d had a few missed calls: one from Elizabeth, a couple from Dom and a text from Mum. Surprised, I opened it and read, We’re coming over for Christmas, hope that’s all right. I can’t stay away any longer!! Speak soon, hope you’re OK, love Mum xxx

  It was as if she’d read my mind and knew I needed her. Can’t wait, it’ll be so good to see you in person xxx. I realised I was smiling and crying at the same time and wiped the back of my hand across my nose.

  As I stood up again, my phone started ringing and I answered, expecting it to be Dom, injecting some vitality into my voice. ‘It’s OK, I’m fine, I’m awake.’ Only just.

  ‘’S that Sophy Edwards?’ It was a man’s voice I didn’t recognise, slightly blurry, as though he’d been drinking.

  ‘Edwards?’ He’d used my maiden name. ‘Who is this?’

  ‘You probably won’t remember me.’ He paused, as though weighing up what to say next. ‘We went to the same university.’

  ‘Oh?’ The bedroom felt small and airless, weak sun glinting off the dressing table mirror. I felt a strong urge to check on Finn and moved to the door. ‘How did you get my number?’

  ‘S’Liv,’ he said.

  Every cell in my body seemed to freeze. ‘You know Liv?’

  ‘Not who you think she is.’ He hiccupped and swore softly. ‘She’s messed up, Sophy. You gotta be careful.’

  ‘What?’

  Downstairs, the front door slammed, making me jump. ‘Look, I don’t know who you are, or what you’re talking about.’ I walked onto the landing on unsteady legs and gripped the banister rail. ‘Who did you say you were?’ But he’d gone.

  ‘Sophy?’

  Dom was back, taking the stairs two at a time, one hand clutching his tie. His face was taut with tension.

  ‘You’re home early.’

  He stood in front of me, out of breath. ‘Mum phoned to say she had to go an
d see the vet and couldn’t get away. She tried ringing to see if you were OK and got no reply. I had a meeting I couldn’t get out of, then you didn’t answer my calls …’ He came to a stop, running both hands through his hair. ‘Why didn’t you answer your phone?’

  ‘Dom, it’s fine. I was tired. I needed a nap. Finn’s in his cot. I haven’t been asleep that long,’ I lied, feeling a need to soothe him, to ease the lines of worry from his face.

  ‘Where’s Liv?’ He looked around, as if she might be hiding somewhere.

  ‘She had to leave early.’ I tugged the cuffs of my jumper over my hands. It was cold on the landing, a draught coming from somewhere downstairs, winding around my bare feet. ‘There was a problem with her mother.’ I thought of the call I’d just had, but couldn’t process it now. ‘I was on my way to get Finn.’

  Dom glanced at my crumpled clothes, at the open bedroom door behind me. He took in the heaped-up duvet hanging off the bed and looked at my hair. ‘You’ve just woken up, haven’t you?’

  Before I could protest, he was striding to the nursery, flinging the door wide. I followed close behind, suddenly desperate to hold Finn, to feel his warm sweet breath against my neck. ‘I was just about to wake him. I—’

  ‘Where is he?’

  My stomach vaulted with fright. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s not here.’ Dom spun round, eyes raking past me to the stairs as though Finn could have walked down them on his own. ‘Where the hell is he?’

  ‘Of course he’s there.’ I pushed past Dom and ran to the cot in the middle of the room. Grabbing the side, I peered over, a whimpering sound escaping from my throat. ‘Finn?’ I whispered, staring at the empty space where he should have been, at the Finn-shaped dent in the mattress, at the tiny strands of russet hair clinging to the sheet. It was inconceivable that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, that he could be somewhere else. A thought pushed its way through the panic. Liv must have returned and taken him to the park. ‘Wait,’ I said to Dom. ‘I think I know where he is.’

  I rushed to get my phone, stumbling a little, heart racing as I waited for Liv to answer. ‘Is Finn with you?’

  ‘Sophy, hi.’ She sounded annoyed, or maybe stressed.

  ‘Have you got Finn?’

  ‘What? No, of course not. I’m at the hospital with my mum,’ she said. ‘I told you I was leaving, I tried to wake you up.’ She took a breath as though forcing herself to be calm. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Oh, nothing.’ Another thought had occurred. ‘Elizabeth must have him.’

  ‘Are you sure everything’s OK?’

  I hung up. ‘He must be with your mum,’ I said to Dom, who was standing right behind me in the bedroom. ‘Call her.’ I felt dangerously out of control and knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back if I spoke to her myself, if she’d taken him out without telling me.

  Dom was shaking his head in a way that made me want to scream. ‘No, she’s helping organise a horse-riding event in Berkshire this afternoon, she mentioned it when she rang to tell me she couldn’t get hold of you.’

  ‘What?’ My breath blocked my throat. ‘So, where is he, where’s Finn?’

  I heard Dom’s feet thundering down the stairs, his voice, shouting out our son’s name, as if he could answer, Here I am!

  I found myself back in the nursery, palm pressed to the mattress in the cot. It was still warm. There was no sign of Jiggles, which Liv would have put there with him.

  ‘Why are the patio doors open?’ Dom was heading back up the stairs.

  I couldn’t drag my eyes from the cot, willing Finn to reappear, to form beneath my hand, living and breathing; to open his big blue eyes and smile at me. ‘Sophy!’ Dom’s hands dragged me away, spinning me to face him, his eyes pools of torment in the whiteness of his face. ‘Did you leave the doors open?’

  ‘What?’ I was shivering in convulsive bursts. ‘I … no, I … I don’t know, I don’t think so, no.’ Terror leaked in. The thought of how vulnerable Finn was made me retch. Dom let me go and I dropped to my hands and knees on the floor. ‘Oh my God, where is he?’ I choked the words out, tears falling and catching on the backs of my hands. ‘Call the police.’

  Dom was breathing hard. He pulled out his phone, dropped it, fumbled to pick it up. As I lifted my head and watched him press the screen, a thought hit me like a juggernaut.

  ‘Alicia.’ Infused with a sudden, terrifying rage, I staggered to my feet, grabbing at Dom’s arm. ‘It’s her,’ I said. ‘It must be her, Dom. She’s taken Finn to get to you.’ My voice rose higher, words spitting out of me. ‘It’s got to be her, she has motive. You have to talk to her, Dom. He could be in danger. You have to talk to her, now.’ Finn was in danger. My baby was in danger. I doubled over, trying to breathe, Dom’s echoing expression of horror etched on my brain.

  ‘Come on, pick up,’ I heard him mutter through clenched teeth. I couldn’t seem to pick myself off the floor as I imagined Alicia driving Finn to some unknown destination, punishing Dom for not choosing her, refusing to give up our son unless Dom agreed to leave me. He would do it. He would do anything to get Finn back. I hoped he would. ‘Agree to whatever she wants,’ I cried, my throat raw. ‘Find out where she is, keep her talking. I’ll call the police.’

  Fear took hold once more, paralysing my limbs. Something unspeakable could be happening to Finn. I wanted to scream, yell, claw my nails down Alicia’s perfect face. I was his mother. I should have been taking care of him.

  ‘Alicia, it’s Dom. What have you done with my son?’

  He’d put her on speakerphone. I heard the split second of silence before she said, ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘My son is missing.’ His voice sounded like cracked glass. ‘Did you come into my house this afternoon and take him?’

  I pressed a shaking hand to my mouth and closed my eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

  ‘What? Of course I didn’t. Why would I do that?’ Alicia’s voice was sharp with fright. ‘Dom, what’s going on?’

  ‘Where are you right now?’

  ‘I’m having lunch with my sister.’

  ‘Put her on.’

  Another voice, with a blade-like edge. ‘I don’t know what you’ve said to my sister, but I’d advise you to leave her alone,’ the woman said. ‘You’ve strung her along for long enough, promising you’ll marry her.’

  ‘I’ve promised her nothing,’ Dom roared. ‘Has she got my son?’

  ‘My sister’s just driven down to Cornwall to stay with me for a few days, so I’m guessing no.’

  Dom ended the call. ‘She hasn’t got him.’ His tone sent a fresh flood of fright crashing through me. ‘I believe her, Sophy.’

  ‘Call the police.’

  While he spoke to the emergency services, I sprang into action, flinging myself around the house as though Finn might have magically appeared. I was racked with sobs when I saw his highchair in the kitchen, his playpen in the living room, his scattered toys – no sign of Jiggles – and a gaping hole at the centre of it all, where he should be.

  There was a cold draught coming from the patio doors. The sun had gone in and rain pattered against the glass. The thought that this had happened because of me – that I’d left the doors open – made me want to howl. Someone had simply let themselves in and walked out with my baby.

  I staggered, clutching at the arm of the sofa. I had to do something, had to find him. Maybe Liv could help … Liv. Time seemed to slow. I remembered the phone call, moments before Dom came home. What was it the man had said?

  Not who you think she is. She’s messed up. Be careful.

  What if Liv wasn’t really at the hospital?

  I was stumbling back upstairs as Dom ran down.

  ‘The police are on their way,’ he said, meeting me halfway. He looked powerless, tears rolling down his face. ‘What is it?’

  Chapter 32

  Liv

  ‘A panic attack,’ the doctor had told me. ‘Possibly
brought on by anxiety. She says there’s nothing worrying her, but I wondered …’

  ‘She’s had a change of carer,’ I’d said. ‘She’s not keen on change.’ But I’d known it was more than that. My obsession with Sophy had opened up old wounds, caused her stress.

  When Ben died, Dad and I witnessed only half the person she’d been before. The doctors said it was grief and severe depression that made her hang up on life. The trauma of her accident and losing her ability to walk realigned her thinking. Things improved, as she focused on her recovery, determined, she’d said, to be there for me, saying she should have been there from the start, helping me through the turmoil I’d felt at not only losing my brother, but finding him too.

  But now I’d raked it all up again, and prayed I hadn’t done any lasting damage.

  ‘Are you OK to keep an eye on Mum for a bit?’ I asked Shari. She was sitting in the lounge with Sparky on her lap, as Mum dozed in the armchair, exhausted from her trip to the hospital. ‘I just need a breath of fresh air.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, with a nod. She’d been so good coming to the hospital. I liked Shari.

  It was raining as I made my way through the wooden gates of Weston Road Cemetery, and parked up. I walked down the path towards the graves, and knelt down by his stone, the dampness of the grass seeping into my jeans, painful tears behind my eyes. ‘I miss you so much,’ I said, running my fingers across his name. ‘I’ve made such a bloody mess of everything, Ben. I’m so sorry.’

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, jolting me from my sadness. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. Sophy.

  ‘Where is he?’ she yelled down the phone, as I put it to my ear. I barely recognised her voice. ‘What the hell have you done with him?’

  ‘What? Slow down.’ I rose to my feet. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s Finn. It’s my baby. He’s gone.’ Sophy’s voice broke off. She sounded terrified. ‘What have you done with him, Liv? Why would you take him?’

  ‘Hang on, Sophy.’ My heart thudded against my chest. ‘What do you mean Finn’s gone? I thought Elizabeth had him.’