By the time Dominic gets back from his swim training, it’s almost six o’clock. He walks in bearing flowers and chocolates by way of an apology, as he went for a quick drink with his mates afterwards. I’m so pleased to see him that I don’t give him any hassle for being late back. Anyway, I spent the rest of this afternoon moving Daisy’s cot back into our room and I know Dom won’t be happy about it. She’s outgrown the Moses basket and it’s not fair to make her sleep in it with her head wedged up against the end. But Dom won’t want her back in our room permanently.

Five minutes later, he’s standing in our bedroom with his arms folded across his chest as he frowns at the cot. ‘Kirst, I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.’

‘She’s our daughter,’ I reply.

‘Yes, and I love her, but I also need to get a good night’s sleep. I’ve got work tomorrow. She was perfectly happy sleeping in her own room before. If she wasn’t happy, I’d have her in with us like a shot, you know I would.’

‘What about my happiness?’ I ask, sitting on the bed with a whump.

‘Kirstie, you’re worried after what happened with the baby monitor. But everything is fine. She’s only in the next room. Daisy is completely safe in there.’

‘You hope.’ I have a sudden thought. ‘We should get an alarm installed.’

‘An alarm?’ He raises his eyebrows. ‘How much would that cost? We don’t need an alarm. This isn’t exactly a high-crime area. Anyway, who needs an alarm when we’ve got Martin, King of the Neighbourhood Watch, living next door? It’s like having our own personal guard dog – granted, he’s probably more of a Chihuahua than a Rottweiler, but you get my point.’

‘He’s part of the reason I want an alarm.’

‘Martin? He’s boring, but harmless.’

‘I’m not so sure. He came round again today.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Wanted me to check some measurements at number six. But that’s not the reason I’m worried. When I went into his house, I saw something weird – did you know he’s got a basement?’

‘No. But what’s that got to do with anything?’

‘None of the other houses in our close has got a basement.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Well, ours hasn’t, Mel’s hasn’t.’

‘So? Have you got basement envy or something?’

I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t you think it’s odd? I wonder why his house has got one and ours hasn’t. Weren’t all these houses built at the same time? Do you think he might have built the basement himself?’

‘Dunno.’ He grins and lowers his voice. ‘Maybe he’s got a red room down there.’

‘A what?’

‘You know,’ he says in an exaggerated whisper. ‘Maybe he’s got sex slaves.’

‘Ugh! Don’t say that!’ Is it weird that Dom has mentioned exactly what I had been thinking?

‘It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch.’ Dom winks.

‘The thing is,’ I say, picking a stray hair off the bed and letting it fall onto the carpet, ‘I also noticed some Toy Shack carrier bags in his house, but he doesn’t have any kids.’

‘So?’

‘So, what if he’s got a baby down there? What if that baby I heard the other night is in his house right now? Remember that fake baby his wife had? That doll? Maybe he’s got a real one down there now. He really creeped me out today, and I’m not kidding, I’m worried for Daisy’s safety.’

‘Did he say something to you?’ Dom’s eyes narrow. ‘Threaten you?’

‘No, not really.’

‘So he didn’t do or say anything to you?’

‘No. It’s just… it’s just a feeling I had.’

‘Want me to have a word with him?’ Dom says, his expression still serious.

‘Maybe. No. I don’t know. What would you say?’

‘I dunno, something like, Hi Martin, can I have a look in your cellar to check for missing babies?’ Dom smiles.

‘It’s not funny.’

‘I know, but really, what do you want me to do about it? The man hasn’t actually done anything.’

‘Don’t you believe me?’

‘Of course I believe you, but if he’s got some hidden torture chamber he’s keeping secret, don’t you think he’d have hidden the entrance, not had a door for everyone to see?’

I guess Dom has a point, but it seemed to me like Martin pushed that door shut a little too quickly. ‘Martin also said something else…’

‘What?’

‘He said he’s seen you at the Cliffords’ place a few times.’ I study Dom’s face for his reaction.

Dom frowns briefly and then gives a laugh. ‘Moaning Myrtle’s been spying on me? Hilarious. Yeah, I’ve been over to Jimmy’s – he’s invited me over for a quick beer a couple of times after work.’

‘Really? You never mentioned it.’

‘That’s because it wasn’t a big deal. Also, I felt a bit guilty, you know, not coming straight home.’ His cheeks redden.

‘Since when have I ever minded you having a beer with friends?’ I’m a bit taken aback by his reply. But I suppose I’m satisfied that he’s telling the truth.

‘Bloody Martin, snooping around and stirring things up,’ Dom says, frowning. ‘But apart from being a gossip, he’s pretty harmless, Kirst. Anyway, I don’t see what any of this has got to do with having Daisy to sleep in our room. Sure, our neighbour is a bit of an oddball, but we’ve lived next door to him for four years. You’ve never been worried about him before.’

‘We’ve never had a baby before.’

Dominic comes and sits next to me on the bed, puts his arm around my shoulder and kisses the side of my head. ‘I think it’s natural to worry about our daughter, but I honestly don’t believe Martin is dangerous.’

‘How would you know that? You can’t see inside his head, or inside his house. I think I should call the police.’

‘And say what?’

‘I could tell them about the basement, and the toy shop bags.’

‘Really?’ Dom tilts his head. ‘Last time I checked, neither of those things is illegal.’

‘But if you add that to the baby-monitor thing, and the doll, and the fact I heard a baby crying the other night…’ As I say it out loud, I realise that the police would never take me seriously. It’s not enough to go on. I need solid evidence.

‘Call them if you like, Kirstie, but I honestly don’t think they’ll do anything.’

I shrug Dom’s arm off my shoulders and get to my feet. ‘Fine. Forget it. I need to give Daisy her bath.’

‘I’ll do it,’ he replies.

‘It’s okay, I can do it,’ I say, hearing the martyred tone in my voice.

‘Let me do the bath,’ Dom insists. ‘I haven’t seen her all day.’

And whose fault is that, I think uncharitably. ‘Okay,’ I agree.

‘And, Kirstie,’ he adds. ‘I’m going to move the cot back into her room. We need to get back to normality.’

‘Fine. Do what you want.’ I’d been looking forward to me and Dom spending a nice evening together, but we’re already at each other’s throats. I know he thinks I’m over-anxious and paranoid – I mean, I already think that about myself – but I’m not about to take any chances with our daughter’s safety. ‘Dom, if you move her cot back, then I’m going to sleep in there with her.’

‘Really?’ he says, his voice full of dismay.

‘I’m not leaving Daisy on her own.’

‘Okay,’ he agrees. ‘You stay with her for a night or two, just until you feel better about things. Look, why don’t you go downstairs and chill out. I’ll bath Daisy and sort out the sleeping arrangements.’

I leave him to it, wishing I could untie this tight knot of anger in my chest.

---

It feels strange to be lying on the futon in Daisy’s room, and not just because it’s so low to the ground. It’s odd without Dominic by my side. But what choice do I have? Leaving Daisy alone all night just isn’t a possibility. Thankfully, things between me and Dom improved after our earlier disagreement. Neither of us mentioned Martin, or Daisy’s sleeping arrangements, for the rest of the evening, and we managed to relax and not fall out over anything else. Dom didn’t try to persuade me back into our bedroom, for which I’m grateful, but if he thinks this arrangement is just for one or two nights, then he’s mistaken. I won’t move back until I’m certain she’s no longer in any danger.

I lie awake for a while, listening to my daughter’s quiet movements and murmurs, mulling over the day’s events. My quiet life seems to have been taken over by strange occurrences. Magnolia Close has always been a sleepy little cul-de-sac where everyone minds their own business, except, of course, for Martin, but he’s just a harmless old busybody – or so I thought. Now, it’s as though a strange new world has converged on my doorstep, threatening my peaceful, contented existence. Or am I being paranoid? Imagining things where there is nothing. Even Lorna was rude to me today. And, okay, she’s always been stand-offish, but that was more in a keeping-to-herself kind of way, not a slam-the-door-in-my-face way. The stress of moving house must be getting to her.

I turn onto my side and close my eyes, trying to let sleep take me. I’ve already checked the doors and windows twice since coming to bed. I desperately want to check them again, but I know I shouldn’t. I keep imagining that Martin is out there trying the handles on the back door. I picture him in my mind’s eye – his yellowing teeth, his ashy hair. A sudden, terrifying thought flies at me. What if Martin swiped a key from our house? He could have done that, couldn’t he? I think back to when he’s called round here on past occasions. I don’t think he’s ever got further than the front doorstep. But he could easily have climbed our back fence and crept in through the back doors while we were in another room. If he has a key, then it won’t matter if the doors are locked. He could get in any time he wanted. The thought makes me go cold. I wish I could get the locks changed, but Dom wouldn’t understand, and besides, we can’t afford it. I’ll have to try to work something out.

I peel the sheet off and get to my feet. I’ve thought of a temporary solution – a warning system. First, I pad over to the cot to check on Daisy. Faint moonlight highlights her rounded face. Love swells in my chest and it’s all I can do to not reach down and gather her up in my arms. But I can’t risk her crying out and waking Dom. I gaze at her for a few more seconds before creeping downstairs.

We keep half of Daisy’s toys in a basket in the back room. In her short life, she’s already amassed quite a collection – the usual cuddly creatures and plastic offerings, along with some more environmentally friendly wooden toys. I pull out a random handful from the basket, cringing as they clatter together. Then, I line them up in front of the back door. I lay a few more outside the kitchen and place the rest by the front door. Now, if anyone breaks in, hopefully the scattered toys will form a noisy trip hazard, alerting me and Dom. Before returning upstairs, I check all the locks and test the handles once more, although if Martin does have a key, a locked door won’t make any difference.

Back upstairs, I check on Daisy, lie back down on the hard futon and close my eyes, more relaxed now that my warning system is in place. I really think I might actually manage to get to sleep…