5. Iris
Iris
Two years earlier
Both girls wail from their spot in the double pram, and Billy stomps along beside us, his toddler leash connected to the side of the pram.
I never thought I’d be a parent who uses one but this way I know where all three kids are when we’re out and about.
Besides, Billy loves it because it’s a plush toy monkey that straps onto his back who he pretends to be giving a piggy-back to.
I try to give the twins a dummy each, but they both spit them out immediately and increase the volume of their screams. They’ve just had their vaccinations and they’re ensuring I know how mean of me it was to subject them to such a thing.
I wish I’d taken up the offer from Sam’s mum to help me today.
An extra set of hands would have been so useful, but I was determined to prove I can still go out without a panic attack, and justify to Sam it’s fine that I haven’t made an appointment with a therapist yet. I’m not sure who I’m trying to fool.
I parked at the playground, a short walk from the medical centre, and had hoped to let Billy have a run around after the appointment.
Based on how the girls are feeling though, we’re going straight home.
Billy spots the swings as we round the corner near the car and tries to take off in a run, only to be pulled back by his leash.
This causes the pram to jolt, momentarily silencing the babies.
I hold my breath, taking in the silence for a second.
Then there’s a large exhale, and the screaming starts again. I sigh.
‘Not today, Billy,’ I say, and his face drops, bottom lip pouting. ‘We’ll come to the park another day soon.’
When we get to the car, I unclip Billy from his monkey backpack and help him into his car seat.
I pick up Sadie, and she finally stops crying.
Although the action only makes Lara howl even louder.
Her cries make me so frazzled that I knock Sadie’s feet as I strap her into the car.
She starts up again, and I try to coax her into taking her dummy.
Just as she’s settling, it occurs to me it’s once again quiet. Lara has stopped too.
I turn back to the pram, and a woman is standing over Lara, holding out her little bunny rattle toy.
The blood drains from my face and my chest tightens.
A wave of electric energy, of anger and panic, surges through me, and I launch myself at the woman.
I shove her away from the pram and rip the toy from her hand.
I pick up Lara and hold her close to me.
‘Get away from my baby,’ I scream. ‘Help! Help!’
The woman backs away, her palms raised. ‘I was just picking up your baby’s toy,’ she stammers. ‘She threw it over the side.’
I hear what she’s saying, but her words mean nothing.
‘Get away from my baby!’
Three people have approached us now, and I keep my grip on Lara, glancing into the car to see Sadie sleeping and Billy watching us.
‘It’s okay, love,’ an older woman says, moving closer to me. ‘Just a misunderstanding. Your baby is safe.’ She places a hand on my arm, so gently, so tenderly, that it snaps me out of my panic.
I release a shaky breath, my entire body deflates as I let go of the panic and place Lara back into the pram.
The woman who’d been trying to help is also being comforted by someone, and the guilt that hits me is so intense, I have to reach for the car to steady myself. I pushed that woman. I assaulted a stranger who was trying to help. That is not who I am.
‘I-I’m so sorry,’ I say.
The woman’s eyes meet mine and she nods, but it does nothing to ease the shame I feel in this moment.
I can’t put it off any longer. It’s time I speak to someone.
Present Day
When we get home, I say a quick thanks to Leanne before heading to the bedroom to get changed and wash my face. I feel horrible about how the dinner went.
I go back out into the kitchen and pour Sam and I a glass of wine. It’s late and we don’t need another drink, but we need to talk.
Sam comes in from the hallway, having seen his mum out and sighs when he sees me hold out a glass.
‘Really, Iris? Let’s just go to bed.’
‘Please sit with me for a minute,’ I say, motioning to the spot next to me.
He takes the glass, sits on the other end of the couch and the distance cuts me up.
‘Sam,’ I say, looking into his eyes, eyes so full of hurt it makes me want to burst into tears.
But I can’t make this about me. ‘I’m sorry.
I know the dinner was important to you and I’m…
argh. I don’t know. I get carried away when I think about what happened in Rosewood and yeah. I shouldn’t have brought that up.’
He takes a sip of wine before placing it on the table next to him. He shuffles closer and places a hand on my thigh.
‘Honey, I get it. I was there too. I saw how close it was to being our own child, and I saw how it absolutely broke you. But you’ve been so much better lately. You need to trust there are people out there doing what they can.’
‘I know but—’
He cuts me off. ‘But nothing. If you keep going like this, it’s going to break you again. Your therapist helped you in the past with the obsession, is it worth seeing her again?’
I wince at the mention of my therapist. He’s right, I’d been keeping all my emotions in check. I’d still been investigating but I’d been handling it mentally. And the idea that I’ve gone backwards and need to see her again, it hurts.
I’m about to agree but a thought strikes me and I can’t help myself. ‘Did you find it weird that all Alan knew about the case was what was mentioned in the news?’
Sam stands and lets out a frustrated groan. It’s almost aggressive, and a side of Sam I’ve never seen before. It doesn’t stop me though.
‘Doesn’t he have kids? Wouldn’t you look into it more knowing you had the accessibility at work and kids of your own?’
‘Iris, enough!’ he shouts. ‘This is insane. You could say the same thing about most cases. We have to stay in our lane. You know this.’
Footsteps sound down the hallway and Billy pops his head into the living room. His face is creased in a sleepy frown.
I go over to him. ‘What’s wrong, Billy boy?’
‘Why is Daddy yelling?’
My heart cracks and I glance at Sam, who walks over to us.
I swallow back the lump in my throat. ‘Daddy wasn’t yelling, sweetheart.
He was only talking a bit loudly because I couldn’t hear him.
’ Guilt ripples through me at the white lie but the last thing I need is Billy worrying about his parents fighting.
That is not the kind of parents Sam and I have ever been or ever want to be.
‘We’re okay, mate,’ Sam says, taking Billy’s hand. ‘Why don’t I walk you back to bed and sing you a song?’
Billy nods and lets Sam lead him back to his bedroom.
I pour out the wine and put the glasses in the dishwasher. I assume that conversation is over.
When Sam climbs into bed about ten minutes after me, he pulls me into him. The tender way he holds me makes me want to cry.
‘I love you,’ he says.
‘Love you too.’