Louisa
Now
‘Louisa, open this door now!’
James’s voice, accompanied by the sharp rattling of the bedroom door handle, wakes me. A sickly stench of urine sticks to the warm air as I peel open my eyes. I glance down at myself, realise I’m naked. A quick glance over towards the partially opened curtains reveals a patchy, blue sky.
The memories of yesterday begin to slot themselves together: Christmas lunch, Annette’s pregnancy, the charm bracelet… and then what?
‘I need to get dressed, Louisa. Why the hell have you barricaded the door shut?’ A heavy thud connects with something solid to the side of me. I follow the source of the sound to where the bedroom door connects with a heavy set of drawers. ‘Let me in now!’
‘Okay, I’m coming.’ My voice sticks to the sides of my throat. Taking a deep breath, I try to remember what happened when James went to bed last night. I know he was angry with me but I can’t remember why. I sat alone in the darkness for what felt like hours, the ticking of the clock like a beating heart, its slow pulse marking the passing of time. Memories I’d rather forget looped round and round in my mind. I was desperate to tell James about Aiden, to confess to him what happened all those years ago. I knew I never would though, knew that, for all my inner promises, I’d take my secret to the grave.
The floor is icy on my bare feet as I step out of bed, my legs practically buckling beneath me. Not remembering when Cory last woke up for a feed, I peer into his Moses basket, my eyes adjusting to the dimness of the bedroom. Feeling a scream surge up into my throat, I clasp my hand over my mouth, my eyes unwilling to accept what I’m seeing.
‘James!’ I don’t recognise the sound which impales the air, am hardly aware of the deafening bang which sends the drawers flying towards me or James’s heavy bulk as he scrambles up and over them like some kind of primate.
‘What’s the matter? What’s wrong?’ He wraps himself around me, his hot breath in my face as I writhe around in his arms, fighting to be free.
‘Cory,’ I scream. ‘Cory’s gone!’
James throws me off him, a distressed, almost demented laugh rising from the pit of his stomach. ‘You really don’t remember, do you? You really have lost it.’
‘What? What have I done?’
‘I took him from you last night. He was crying. It seemed to go on for ever. I came downstairs to check everything was all right.’ He shakes his head, as if the memory is too painful to remember. ‘I found you sitting with him on the floor in the kitchen, staring at the back door. It was scary, really weird, like something out of a horror film.’ He rakes his hands through his hair, his dark eyelashes laden with tears. ‘You said you were a guard, that the donor would be there at any moment. Cory’s hands and feet were freezing cold, he was hungry.’
‘So where is he now?’ I ask, James’s version of events somehow ringing true. I remember now that I bolted the front door and watched the back like a hawk, terrified that the donor or Annette were about to break in and steel Cory. But I don’t remember Cory being with me.
‘Is that all you’ve got to say? Everything I’ve just told you and that’s all you can ask me?’
‘I just want to protect Cory. That’s all I want.’ My voice is small, my nakedness adding to the embarrassment that wraps itself around me. ‘James, please. Where’s my baby?’
‘He’s asleep in the spare room. I fed him last night and he fell asleep on my chest. Didn’t want to disturb him by coming to get the Moses basket.’
I shake my head. ‘It’s dangerous to let him sleep on you. Supposing you rolled over on top of him?’
‘I don’t think you should be giving parental advice, Louisa.’ His words are like a stab to the heart. ‘Look, you know I’m back on nights tonight, don’t you? I would stay home longer but it’s Christmas and you know how busy it is at Christmas.’
‘You can’t leave me,’ I say, panicking. ‘Not while the keys are missing. Anybody could break in. We need to get the locks changed.’
James closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if suddenly exasperated. ‘Nobody is going to break in. I’ll look for them later. And nobody is coming to change the locks on Boxing Day so you can forget that one.’
‘But…’
‘But nothing,’ he snaps, startling me. ‘Look, if we don’t find them today then maybe tomorrow we’ll get the locks changed, even if it’s just to put your mind at rest. I need to nip out in an hour or so but when I come back I’ll look for them.’
‘But where are you going?’
‘Just out, Louisa!’ he shouts, every muscle in his face clenched. ‘To clear my head, to think about all of this.’ He holds out his hands in front of him. ‘I need to decide what the best course of action is.’
‘But I don’t know what you mean.’ I shrink further into myself, my knees hunched up into my chest. ‘Are you saying you need to think about what to do with me?’
James looks down at the floor, his eyes alive with a thousand thoughts. ‘I think it might be for the best if you went into hospital for a little while. Doctor Roberts gave me an emergency number to call if things deteriorated. I’m just trying…’
‘No, I’m begging you,’ I interrupt, my lips trembling under the weight of my words. ‘I’m not mentally ill. It’s just the tablets. You said yourself. You said I just needed time to adjust.’ Fat tears roll down my cheeks as I realise just how close I am to being sectioned. ‘Please don’t ring anybody, James.’
He sighs, his own eyes red and swollen. ‘I have to think of Cory. He’s my priority now. Look,’ he continues after a moment’s silence, ‘I’ve rung Mum and Dad. They’re coming back from David’s now. Mum said David’s wife made a crap Christmas dinner anyway.’ He attempts to laugh but it falls just short of being genuine. ‘Dad’s offered to take me out for a few hours. And I’ve decided to come clean with him, about everything.’
‘About the donor?’
‘About everything,’ he reiterates, looking me directly in the eye. ‘It’s all the secrets and lies which have got us into this mess and I know I’m partly to blame for that.’ He nods his head, as if convincing himself of the truth. ‘Mum has offered to stay here with you. And also sleep over tonight while I’m at work.’
‘No.’ I shake my head, fear giving way to anger. ‘I don’t need a bloody babysitter.’
‘Well, it’s either that or I’m ringing the mental health team, Lou. Take your pick.’
I am saved from answering by Cory’s ear-splitting cry.
‘So how batty are we actually talking, James? Do I need to carry protection?’
‘Mum, please, don’t be ridiculous. She’s really fragile right now. Just be gentle with her, will you?’
‘Of course I’ll be gentle, when am I ever not? But we’ve all seen Misery, James. At least it’s not snowing any more, I suppose.’
‘Dad, tell her, for God’s sake.’
‘Tamz, stop being bloody ridiculous.’
‘Well, shall we come up with a codeword just in case? Something festive. How about crackers?’
Their heavy whispers drift down the hallway and through the crack in the closed lounge door to where I’m curled up on the sofa, my still-wet hair dripping onto my creased T-shirt.
After the fiasco of this morning, James insisted I had a shower and got dressed, perhaps believing the hot water would wash away the demons inside my soul. Either that, or he’d noticed the stained underwear which lay abandoned at the foot of the bed, the sickly stench of piss sticking to the fusty air. The powerful spray from the shower lacerated my skin as I stood underneath it with the temperature dial turned up as far as it would go, intent on burning away my inner suffering. My thoughts yo-yo’d backwards and forwards, one moment utterly convinced that somebody was intent on taking Cory, and in the next breath sure I had suffered a mental breakdown. Salty tears ran down my face, mixing with the scalding water from the shower. I hoped and prayed I was in the midst of a breakdown. Because even if it meant me being carted away to be sectioned, at least Cory would be safe.
The door taps opens and Tamzin’s head pokes through the slender gap. ‘Hello, Louisa,’ she gulps, her eyes flitting around the room. ‘May I enter? It’s your mother-in-law, Tamzin.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Yes, you may enter.’ If the situation weren’t so serious it would almost be laughable.
Gingerly, Tamzin makes her way over to the armchair and sits down on its edge. Behind her, the open curtains reveal another bleak day, the sky the colour of iron. ‘Ahh, would you just look at him,’ she says, her eyes resting on Cory who is lying on the floor underneath his multisensory Jungle Gym. ‘Getting bigger by the day.’
‘He sure is,’ I say, saddened by how grown-up he looks in his denim jeans and Baby Converse, his freshly washed hair parted and swept over to the side. I hate the thought that I’m missing his first few weeks of life, that I’ll always look back on this time with sadness and regret. It’s almost unbelievable to think he’s three weeks old today. It seems like only yesterday I pushed him into the world, all the fear and worry I’d carried throughout my pregnancy melting away as I gazed into his eyes, his bare skin against mine like a defibrillator which restarted my broken heart.
‘Lou, Mum, we’re going to shoot off now. We won’t be too long. Have you got everything you need?’
I look over at James who is standing in the open doorway pulling on his coat. Doug is behind him, partially obscured by James. ‘Yes, we’re fine. Hello, Doug, have a nice time.’ Nervousness fizzes inside my stomach, knowing that if James manages to hold on to his nerve and tell his dad about Cory’s donor, a ‘nice time’ will definitely not be on the cards.
‘All right, Louisa, love?’ Doug shouts back at me, his customary greeting somewhat off kilter.
A few moments later, when the front door slams shut, a heavy silence rests in the air. Tamzin seems suddenly mesmerised by her fingernails, her cocksure demeanour deflating like a burst balloon. ‘Are you all right?’ I ask her, bemused by her obvious discomfort.
‘Great,’ she replies, refusing to look up and meet my eye. ‘I think I’ll make us a nice cup of tea.’
‘Lovely idea. Perhaps we can have a few biscuits with it?’
‘Of course. Whatever you want.’ She stands up and power walks across the lounge, her face frozen into a smile.
I look down at Cory after she’s left the room. ‘Well,’ I say lightly, causing him to crane his neck in order to look up at me. ‘If being crazy makes Nanny get up off her arse, it’s not all been for nothing after all.’
The shrill ring of the landline makes me jump. From the kitchen, I hear the distinct sound of the lid from the biscuit tin clatter onto the countertop, followed by a stream of muffled swear words. Tamzin is obviously as nervous as I am, but for an entirely different reason. Despite trying my best to make light of it, it does hurt me that my normally feisty mother-in-law has been reduced to a quivering wreck because of me. I know she has never fully understood my mental illness, and I don’t blame her for it, but it hurts none the less. Does she really believe I’m a danger to her?
As the ringing continues, I chew the side of my tongue, unsure of whether or not to answer it. It’s strange for anybody to ring the landline instead of my mobile, especially given the fact that it’s Boxing Day, meaning most of the call centres will be closed for Christmas.
‘Are you getting that, Louisa?’ Tamzin’s voice drifts through the open doorway, accompanied by the rattle of the boiled kettle.
‘Yeah, sure.’ Heaving myself up, I make my way over towards it. ‘Hello.’
A heavy silence fills my ears. ‘Hello?’ I try again, this time more of a question than a statement. When I am yet again greeted with silence, I cut the call and put the phone back into its holster.
‘Here you are,’ says Tamzin, a moment later, as she enters the room. She is carrying a mug of tea in each hand and a plate of biscuits are balancing in the gap between her forearm and chest. ‘A lovely cup of tea and a ginger nut. Oh my God!’ she shouts, almost dropping the tea.
‘What!?’
‘I wasn’t having a dig with the ginger-nut thing. Honestly, they were the only ones in the cupboard.’ Her face turns crimson. ‘Not that you’re nutty or anything but…’
‘Its fine,’ I interrupt, sighing relief. ‘Bloody hell, Tamzin, I thought something was wrong then.’
‘Who was on the phone anyway?’ she asks, changing the subject.
‘I don’t know.’ I turn around and look out of the window, as if the answer might be waiting for me beyond the windowpane. ‘It was silent when I answered.’
‘Probably a sales call. I was thinking I might nip to the shops after this, if you don’t mind.’
Through the window’s reflection I watch as she gently eases herself down on the sofa, placing my cup of tea and the biscuits onto the coffee table. ‘Where to?’ I ask.
‘You haven’t got much milk left and I thought I could make a casserole for your tea, save you the bother, what with you not feeling well.’ She looks down at her feet.
‘That would be nice. Thank you.’ I turn back around to face her, making sure it is actually my bone-idle, mouthy mother-in-law talking and not some complete stranger.
‘And I’ll take Cory with me. To give him a bit of fresh air.’
Anger bites at my insides. It’s obvious she doesn’t trust me to be alone with my own son. ‘You go by all means but you’re not taking Cory.’
Her eyebrows knit together into a frown. ‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not safe.’
‘I don’t understand. What isn’t safe?’
It’s obvious from her expression that James hasn’t told her about my fears regarding Cory, which is understandable really, given that James believes I’m stark raving mad. Although Tamzin is being worryingly nice to me, I don’t want the responsibility of telling her about Cory’s true parentage. Besides, surely a revelation so life-changing ought to come from James himself? It’s definitely going to hit her hard and I can’t single-handedly deal with her reaction in my current state of mind.
‘No reason,’ I reply at last, hiding my lie behind my hand.
‘Well, why can’t I take him then?’ Defiance flits across her face.
I look down at my watch, desperately trying to think of a plausible excuse.’ He’s due a feed at two.’
‘It’s only twelve. I’ll nip to the shop and we’ll have a leisurely stroll back along The Groves.’ The Groves is a picturesque riverside walk situated less than a mile from my house. ‘Why don’t you come with us? Might do you good.’
The thought of stepping outside the door fills me with dread; this morning’s antidepressant yet again has left me exhausted, although luckily not quite as ill as yesterday. ‘I can’t. I’ve got too much to do here,’ I lie.
‘Well, can I? With Cory? Please.’
Her sudden polite, almost shy, plea, knocks me off balance. She must believe I really have lost the plot to be so uncharacteristically nice. ‘Fine,’ I find myself saying. ‘But don’t walk anywhere unless you’re surrounded by people.’
She looks at me oddly, but doesn’t comment further.
Five minutes after Tamzin leaves the house with Cory, the phone rings yet again, causing my mouth to fill with saliva. I make my way over towards it, am almost upon it when it abruptly stops. I look out of the window, see a man walk past on the street just beyond my garden fence, the wind blowing his ginger hair up and off his face, a mobile phone glued to his ear. Recognition floods through me, my stomach tightening. I run out of the lounge into the hallway and towards the front door where I fight with the key in the lock, my fingers turning to jelly. A blast of cold air hits me head-on as I finally open it. I pelt down the garden, ignoring the sharp gravel which embeds itself into my bare feet. ‘Come back,’ I shout, having reached the street. ‘Come back now!’
The man stops in his tracks and looks back at me, his facial features too far away for me to make out his expression. ‘What’s up?’
I walk towards him, panic drying the inside of my mouth. ‘It’s you, isn’t it? Don’t try and deny it. I know it’s you.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ For every step I take forward he takes one back. ‘Louisa, isn’t it?’
‘How do you know my name? You were never supposed to know it! We were anonymous!’ Fat tears roll down my cheeks. ‘You can’t have Cory. He’s mine and James’s. You knew what you signed up for.’
‘Louisa, please.’ He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple straining against his throat. ‘Do you want me to call your husband?’
‘Don’t you ring my husband! You’re not worthy of speaking to him. You’re half the man he is.’
‘Sean, what’s happening?’
I flick my gaze over the road to where a lady is standing at her garden gate, a boy of about nine cowering by her side.
‘She just started going crazy,’ replies the man, before turning away from me and practically running across the road.
It’s then that I realise where I know him from. He’s my neighbour! The guy I’ve let on to for many years in passing. Embarrassment heats my cheeks.
‘Are you all right, Louisa? Do you want to come inside for a hot drink? Where’s your baby?’ His wife has started to make her way across the road towards me, her smiling face and umpteen questions making me dizzy. I shake my head, slowly backing away from her. I don’t know how they know my name. I don’t know them, not really. Has James been talking to them about me? Has he told them to keep an eye on me?
Turning on my heel, I run back towards my house, their confused stares burning into the back of my skull.
As I step through the open door, the phone starts ringing once again. I yank out a dozen strands of hair as I fly down the hallway, enjoy the burning sensation which spreads across my scalp. Entering the lounge, I launch myself at the phone, almost knocking it from its holster. ‘Who is it?’ I shout down the receiver. ‘What the hell do you want?’
Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Be faithful unto death. The computerised voice hollows out my insides, emptying my lungs of air. I drop the phone, feel my legs buckle beneath me, as if somebody has severed me at the knee. As I lie in a heap on the floor, a strangled plea rises from deep inside of me. My throat burns from the strain, my head pounding so hard I fear a blood clot. The lounge closes in around me as memories of my life rain down upon me, a choir of voices gibbering and tittering to one another inside my mind. But there is one thing I’m now sure of. I am not crazy. Somebody wants me dead!
Grabbing the phone, I pull myself up, ignoring the heckling voices inside my mind and the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside. I bash out James’s number into the handset, hear the familiar sound of the ringtone. He doesn’t answer. ‘Cory…’ I garble to his voicemail. ‘Cory isn’t safe.’ I cut the call, quickly tap out Tamzin’s number, grateful for my photographic memory.
‘Louisa, we’re fine. We…’
‘Where are you?’
‘At the shop. Why, what’s the matter?’
‘You need to take Cory away from here,’ I whisper, aware of the footsteps on the gravel outside my front door growing louder. ‘He’s in danger. Get the bus home to your house and lock all the doors and windows. Call the police and tell them Cory is in danger and to come right away. You can’t come back here with him, it’s not safe. He’s got a key. He might even be here now.’
‘Who’s got a key? Louisa, speak to me, you aren’t making any sense.’
‘The donor. Cory’s sperm donor. He’s going to kill me and take him.’
She sucks in air. ‘What in heaven’s name are you talking about? What donor?’
‘Just do it!’ I shout. ‘For once in your life do as you’re told.’
‘But I haven’t got any nappies for him at home or milk or…’ Her voice is suddenly small.
‘Just go! Don’t come back here no matter what. Anyway, I won’t be in. I’m going to the clinic, to find out who Cory’s father is once and for all.’ I know I sound crazy but I am past caring. My priority is Cory’s safety; it is no longer important what happens to me.
‘All right, Louisa,’ she says at last, her voice shaking. ‘All right.’
The knock on the front door makes me jump even though I was half expecting it. I peer out of the window, relief flooding through me upon seeing Sean and his wife, their eyes connecting with mine through the glass. They both look terrified. ‘Go away, go away now or I’m calling the police.’
They shoot each other a look before slowly backing away, the wife’s arms raised in surrender.
I wait until they have reached the gate before dialling another number I know off by heart. A number that once lived on my speed dial.
‘Hello, SureLife Fertility Clinic, thank…’
‘Thank God you’re open,’ I interrupt. ‘I wasn’t sure with it being Boxing Day.’
‘Yes, we pride ourselves on being open all…’
‘I don’t care,’ I say, cutting off the well-spoken receptionist for the second time in as many seconds. ‘Get me Doctor Hughes. Now!’
‘Erm…’ Her hesitancy hangs on the line. ‘I’m afraid he can’t come to the phone right now. He’s very busy in theatre today.’
‘This is an emergency! My son’s sperm donor wants to kidnap him. He’s threatened to kill me!’
The receptionist gasps. ‘Well, you need to call the police. I, erm…’ she stutters, clearly having never dealt with such a situation before.
‘I need you to tell me the donor’s details,’ I plead. ‘Tell me where he lives. I have to stop him!’
‘I’m afraid I can’t do that…’ she says more forcefully, seemingly having composed herself. ‘Not unless the police request it. If you want I can make you an appointment with Doctor Hughes for another day but…’
‘Forget it!’ I shout, throwing the phone against the wall. ‘I’ll find out myself.’