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.
Anyhow, I digress. Ladies and gentlemen, it would now seem that the end times are upon us. In fact, the good Lord whispered as much into my ear this morning. ‘The day has come, the time has arrived!’ he uttered through Ezekiel verse seven. Of course my plan had always been for an extra tablet or two to be placed into Louisa’s Christmas fizz. ‘One for the pot,’ as my dear granny always used to say. There’s nothing quite like a festive gathering to unleash a person’s madness unto the world; it seemed almost poetic that it should be the same day her psyche first began to crack all those years ago. Leaving the door wide open and taking the back-door key was a stroke of genius too, my little pawn now seeming to relish the role bestowed upon them.
It’s a shame Louisa hasn’t noticed the key is missing yet. Still, all good things come to those who wait.
Yes, everything is coming together nicely. In a matter of days, Louisa’s outer shell will have crumbled completely, her inner soul will finally sink into the depths of hell… and ghostly memories will dance on her grave!
‘Nope, no bogeymen hiding under the bed, surprise, surprise!’ James comes back into the kitchen where the rest of us are still congregated. His sarcastic tone and the way he holds himself suggests he is majorly annoyed. I understand the subject of Cory’s conception is delicate, of course I do. But surely, after everything that’s happened, he didn’t expect me to keep it a secret from our friends?
‘So Cory’s all right?’
‘Sleeping like a baby.’
‘Well, isn’t that a relief,’ slurs Ron, matching James’s sarcasm. ‘Now are you cracking open that champers because my mouth is as dry as a nun’s crotch.’
‘Ron… for heaven’s sake.’ Annette shakes her head. ‘Although he is right, Louisa. I would like to get on with our celebratory drinks if you don’t mind.’
‘Really?’ I’m somewhat flabbergasted that, despite my obvious hostility towards her, she still seems hellbent on sticking around.
‘Of course I can only have a sip,’ she continues, rubbing her stomach. ‘This poor mite must already be sozzled, the amount of Dom Perignon I consumed in our lake house last August. Did I mention the lake house to you, Helen? It’s absolutely beautiful.’
‘Did the doctor give you a scan picture?’ Helen asks, seemingly finding the whole ‘surprise pregnancy’ as unbelievable as me.
‘Well, yes, of course.’ Annette looks momentarily put out, perhaps hoping for a lengthy discussion about the famous ‘lake house’ – which she doesn’t like to mention much, of course. ‘In fact it was a 3D one,’ she continues, her lips puckering as if sucking on a lemon. ‘And he’s an angel. Beautiful. I just can’t wait until he’s with me.’
‘Well, he’s already with you now, just inside your womb. Isn’t he?’ I say, my stomach turning over.
She holds my stare. ‘Obviously I’m aware of that. You know what I mean.’
‘So can we see the scan picture then?’ asks Helen, offering me a small smile.
Does she also suspect Annette isn’t pregnant?
‘No.’ Annette narrows her eyes. ‘It’s framed at home. I suppose it would have been nice to bring it.’
There’s a moment’s pause where nobody speaks, the awkwardness emitting an almost white noise.
‘Well, anyway…’ declares James, his tone once again light. ‘I suppose we haven’t got too long to wait until we meet him in the flesh.’
‘Well, that’s the thing actually.’ Annette looks over at Ron, as if unsure whether or not to continue. ‘Ron has been offered a new position at a leading pharmaceutical company in Scotland. It’s almost twice the salary meaning I can stay at home with the little one. We’d be crazy not to take it.’
My mouth turns dry. ‘When are you going?’ I ask, terrified to hear the answer.
‘A few days’ time.’ She smirks, giving her stomach another rub for good measure. ‘We just have a few loose ends to tie up here before we go.’
‘Louisa?’ Magda’s voice swims towards me and I feel her tugging on my sleeve. ‘Are you feeling all right? You’ve gone really pale again.’
‘I’m fine.’ I sniff up, the smell of fresh smoke suddenly turning my stomach. ‘What’s burning? Something’s on fire!’
‘James is outside smoking.’ A cold hand touches my forehead causing me to flinch. ‘Relax, Lou, it’s just me,’ says Annette. ‘Did you not just hear him saying he was going outside for a cigarette? You’re sweating. Do you want to sit down? You’re not going to faint again, are you?’
Her questions are too much for my brain to process. ‘Yes, what? I’m tired. Cory hasn’t been sleeping.’ My words fall from my mouth. I wipe at my brow, which is wet with sweat. ‘I don’t think the tablets are helping. I feel really ill.’
‘Probably shouldn’t have mixed them with alcohol,’ says Annette.
‘Make you batty as a box of frogs that will,’ chirps in Ron, his voice wafting over to me from the other side of the kitchen. ‘And so will I be if I don’t get my hands on an alcoholic beverage soon.’
‘Right!’ I snap, unable to help myself. ‘There’s a bottle of champagne in there. Just open it yourself – I need air.’ I point at the cupboard which is nestled into the corner of the kitchen. Even in my flurried state, I distinctly remember James putting a bottle of champagne in there last Christmas, a present from a work colleague, and to my knowledge it hasn’t been drunk. Forcing myself to place one foot in front of the other, I make my way over to the back door where I grip hold of the door frame and gulp in fresh air. James looks over at me from where he is standing a mere three metres away, the fiery end of his cigarette illuminating his face as he inhales a long drag.
‘Hey, what’s this?’ I turn around to find Annette on her knees, emerging from the cupboard with something shiny in her hand.
‘Can I drink it? That’s all I’m interested in,’ asks Ron.
Ignoring Ron, I walk over to Annette, giving her space in which to heave herself up. ‘I think you’ve got an extra little Christmas present here.’ She hands me a small, neatly wrapped box with an identical red bow to the present I opened earlier today.
Taking it from her, I open up the tag which is stuck to the side.
A keepsake to you. A promise from me.
‘James?’ I look over at him as he steps back inside, bringing in stale smoke on his clothes. ‘Annette’s found this?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ he says after a brief pause. ‘I bought you that a while ago. I meant to give it you as your main Christmas present but then I had the idea of the locket and, well, I just forgot all about it.’
‘Well, can I open it? ‘ I feel almost shy to ask, as if something about the whole situation isn’t quite right.
‘Maybe James would be happier with you opening it in private. What if we open that champagne first?’ Magda’s voice slices through the silence.
‘What a cracking idea. I always knew I liked you,’ says Ron.
‘James?’ I force his eyes to meet mine, ignoring everybody else around us.
‘Sure. Open it,’ he says casually enough. ‘It is for you after all.’
As I loosen the bow, the feel of the ribbon between my fingers causes my skin to burn. Nothing feels normal any more, nothing is how it should be. All eyes are now on me, their stares drilling into my skull. I pull away the wrapping paper, allow it to fall down to the floor. ‘It’s something from Pandora,’ I say.
‘Open it then,’ replies James, a little too brightly.
I open the lid on the box, blink down at the small silver charm embedded in the centre. ‘I, erm…’
‘Do you like it?’
I look again, see it is in the shape of a house, a gold, love-heart clasp dangling off it. The word ‘family’ has been engraved into the front. Lifting it out of its casing, I roll it over between my fingers, catching sight of the side of the house. Three childish stick men are engraved into the silver: a woman, man and child. ‘But I don’t even have the bracelet,’ I say, confused.
‘Well, obviously, I was going to buy you that too then I forgot about it.’ James looks down at his feet.
‘But didn’t you think to buy it at the same time, knowing I didn’t have one?’
He shakes his head. ‘I just saw it and thought it would be nice. It was ages ago. We’ll get you the bracelet tomorrow. It’ll be half-price in the sales.’ He tries out a laugh but it falls to the floor.
‘Well, I’m not being rude but at this rate I’ll be toasting my son’s graduation, never mind his conception.’ Ron stumbles over towards the still-open cupboard. ‘Want a job doing, do it yourself.’
‘Look, I’m really not feeling very well,’ I admit as another wave of heat burns my skin. ‘I’m sorry but I think we’ll have to celebrate some other time.’
‘I think that’s for the best,’ says James. ‘Ron, take the bottle with you. Call it an early christening present.’
Ten minutes later, I lean against the hallway wall as our guests leave one by one. Annette has a face like thunder but Ron seems delighted with his free bottle of champagne. He clutches it tightly to his chest like he’s nursing a newborn baby. ‘I’m sorry about this,’ says James, his voice floating just out of reach. ‘I think the tablets have really knocked her sideways. We’ll catch up in the New Year.’
Helen, like me, appears grateful that the day has been cut short. She kisses me on the cheek as she passes. ‘If you need to talk, call me.’ She slips a folded-up piece of paper into my palm which I assume is her phone number.
‘Bye, honey, and thanks for earlier.’ Magda leans in and hugs me tightly before I have a chance to reply to Helen. I grip the tops of her arms for support, feeling like I’m going to faint at any moment. ‘Stay strong, Lou,’ she whispers into my ear. ‘This will all be a distant memory before you know it.’
A moment later, I join James at the front door as everybody makes their way down the gravelled driveway. The cold temperature is almost a blessing, the fine rain feeling as good as a freezing shower on a summer’s day. The porch light illuminates the garden, its intense glare reflecting back a bright array of colour as the raindrops rest themselves on the roof of our car and the iron fence. ‘Bye,’ I shout into the night sky, relieved as everybody starts to pile into Annette and Ron’s BMW.
‘Bye, sweetie,’ shouts Magda back at me, lifting up her arm to wave. The porch light catches hold of the silver charm bracelet around her wrist… its glare almost blinding.