Chapter 7 #2
‘You’re helping already. Just offering a safe space, a roof over our heads.
You’re helping more than you possibly know.
Look, I know we’re invading your privacy.
Making you uncomfortable. But if you can just give me a little time to gather my thoughts and figure out what I’m going to do next…
’ She took a deep breath. ‘That’s all I’m asking for.
I don’t want to take my daughter to a refuge.
Those places aren’t safe for a baby. I’d be constantly afraid that someone’s angry ex would turn up and be violent – that we wouldn’t be safe. ’
‘What about your ex?’
Amala shuffled in my arms, and I felt a sudden explosion in her nappy, her eyes shooting open as the warm, sweet-smelling liquid seeped from the sides.
‘Oh!’ I cried.
Jade was up and over in a second, scooping the baby from my arms. ‘Sorry, it’s the breast milk. Oh, the nappy’s leaking! I’ll go and change her.’
She darted from the room, leaving me with empty arms and a feeling that she was keeping secrets she would do anything not to share .
The bedroom was back in order again after a lot of hard work on my part.
I felt pent up and jittery, my long summer afternoon in the garden over far too soon today.
I’d barely managed twenty minutes out there, unable to relax for fear of who might creep up behind me, jumping at every sound, every passing voice, knowing that a stranger was at that very moment moving around inside my house, taking up space I didn’t want to give.
After some half-hearted pruning, I’d rushed back inside, taping a note on the front door asking Aaron to pick up eggs and yoghurt and an extra packet of pasta on his evening stroll to the village shop, and to leave them on the step.
I knew he’d do it, though the questions when I next saw him would be unbearable.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gone into my shell and retreated from the world.
Now, with the June heat making me feel restless and irritable, I didn’t want to get into bed despite the lack of sleep last night.
I yanked my silk dressing gown off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, sticking my head out the window and breathing in the warm, sweet night air.
The moon was high and bright, and I longed to head out into the garden to sink my bare toes into the cool grass, feel the breeze on my skin.
I felt like a prisoner – trapped – and that brought back memories I’d long since suppressed, boxed up, unwilling to ever delve inside them.
I hated that even now, all these years later, he was still able to have such an effect on me.
And with thoughts of him came the memories of what I’d done…
the person I had become when backed into a corner, the depths I’d sunk to.
I didn’t want to think of that. To be reminded of any of it.
The baby being here was bringing it all back, as if it was fresh, raw, and it made me want to run, to shed my body and find a new skin to inhabit, pretend that the person I had once been, that woman who had done those unforgivable things, was a stranger to me.
Not real. Not someone whose guilt I had to carry.
I’d spent the past three years crafting a new reality for myself, becoming someone I could live with.
Someone I liked, much to my surprise. I’d protected my space, my solidarity, knowing that any chink in my armour could cause it all to spill free, unleash the person hiding beneath the surface.
I’d done well to adapt, change. But now I felt as if I was teetering on the brink of a breakdown.
Jade and Amala were rocking the foundations I’d thought were so strong, and I couldn’t cope with the uncertainty of what was coming next. What I might do if I was right.
I glanced at the clock, shocked to realise how late it was.
Almost 3 a.m. I had to try and sleep. I checked the lock on my bedroom door for the tenth time since coming in here, then climbed into bed, pulling a thin sheet around my body.
I lay back, trying to breathe through the panic attack that was fighting to be released, closing my eyes, listening to the frantic sound of my heart racing in my chest.
My eyes snapped open at the sound above me.
A footstep. Was it coming from the loft?
I couldn’t be sure. My mouth went dry as I listened, frozen to the bed.
There it was again. Another creak of the floorboard.
A scrape of something being moved aside.
It was an old house. It was prone to unexplained noises. But this was different.
My heart pounded, my hands fisting the sheets, sweat coating my palms as I lay utterly still, useless, unable to produce an ounce of fight.
Instantly reverting to the weak, pitiful, pathetic girl I’d let myself become over those long, torturous years with him.
I hated myself for my fear, for my Pavlovian reaction, the instinct to make myself small and quiet rather than roar, defend this space, this sanctuary I held so dear.
I was better than this. I had changed, hadn’t I?
With a burst of determined fire, I leaped from the bed, dashing over to where I’d dropped my dressing gown on the floor and yanking it on, ignoring the way my hands trembled, the convulsions spilling through my body.
I pulled back the bolt noisily, throwing open the door and heading along the narrow hallway to the little alcove below the loft hatch.
I wrapped my arms around myself, looking up at it.
It was closed, just as I’d left it. No ladder in sight.
No sign that anyone had been here. Accessed the space.
But I’d heard movement. I’d definitely heard someone up there. I was sure I had.
I balled my hands into fists, staring at the hatch, wondering what to do, then turned and walked to the opposite end of the corridor, to Jade’s door, listening, unsure what I was hoping to hear.
There was no sound, and despite my desire to open the door and check she was in there, I managed to resist. Instead, I went to the stairs.
My bare feet were silent on the thick carpet, and I walked slowly, my eyes darting left and right, trying to pick up on some change, some clue as to what I’d heard.
When I reached the bottom, I froze, hearing a voice coming from the sitting room. Jade .
Ice encased my belly, trickled down my spine, as I realised she was talking to someone in there.
Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run back up to my room and bolt the door again.
To hide beneath the covers until morning broke.
But I was in my house. This was my safe space. And I wouldn’t be cowed. Not now.
Two heavy silver candlesticks stood on a small table just inside the front door, and I took one in my hand, the weight of it reassuring, comforting as I walked as quietly as I could manage towards the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, I flung open the door and stepped inside.
‘Oh, hi, Annie,’ Jade whispered.
I took in the scene. She was standing in the middle of the room, rocking the baby vigorously back and forth.
‘Did we wake you?’ she asked, her voice apologetic.
‘What are you doing?’ I looked past her to the window, open far enough to fit a man through.
She paused, noticing the candlestick in my fist. Her eyes widened for a moment, then she looked back to my face, resuming her rhythmic movement. ‘Amala has trapped wind. She was getting upset, and I didn’t want her crying to wake you, so I came down here to settle her. The rocking helps.’
‘I didn’t hear her cry.’
‘She didn’t make much noise. But she was getting fidgety. I’m sorry for disturbing you. It’s late… You should go back up. She’s much more settled now; I think she’ll go back to sleep in a minute.’
I stared at the window. Had that been what I’d heard?
Her opening the creaky old window for a bit of air?
Or walking past my door to come down here?
It was the simplest explanation, and yet it didn’t feel like the right one.
Jade’s eyes were trained on the baby, avoiding mine, and I had the sudden urge to scream at her that she was lying.
That she’d brought danger into my home. I wanted to pick up the landline and call a taxi, make her leave right this second so that I could go back to the life I wanted, needed . I couldn’t live like this. Not again.
I bit my lip, forced myself to speak calmly, despite the terror bubbling inside my chest. ‘You shouldn’t open the window that wide. We get foxes in the garden… one might get in and hurt the baby.’
‘Right,’ she said quietly, clearly trying not to disturb Amala. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think.’
I gave a short nod, walking over to the window and closing it, double-checking it was tightly shut. Then I turned and walked from the room, leaving her standing there swaying from side to side.
As I headed slowly back up the stairs, I felt as if the stress of her being here might actually drive me mad.
I took a deep breath and told myself I was doing the right thing.
Jade needed my help. She just needed a place to rest while she figured out her next move, and suspecting otherwise wouldn’t help either of us.