A Mother’s Sacrifice: A brand new psychological thriller with a gripping twist

‘Congratulations.’ I offer her a tight smile.

‘Thank you. And to you.’ She looks up only briefly before dropping her gaze.

‘Boy or girl?’

She strokes the newborn’s back. ‘Boy. He’s called George.’

‘Me too. Cory.’

‘Lovely name.’

‘And yours.’

A stilted silence hangs between us. ‘Is your partner coming?’

She shakes her head.

‘Parents?’

‘It’s just the two of us and that’s fine by me.’ She looks me squarely in the eye, her jaw tight.

‘Well, I’ll see you around.’ I pause, wait for her to insert her name into the silence, but it doesn’t come. I guess I was wrong to think being a mother automatically gave me the right to befriend other mothers. I feel a little sad.

James doesn’t appear to notice me as I approach our bay. He is sat on the visitor’s chair to the side of the bed, Cory balanced across his arms like he’s attempting some kind of circus act. I stop for a moment and watch him, his hand bigger than Cory’s head. There’s something about the way he sits; awkward, his muscles flexed, his shoulders tense. He is making shushing noises even though Cory isn’t making any sound.

‘Hey, how’s things?’

He flinches before looking up at me. ‘Great, brilliant. How are you feeling?’

‘Well, they don’t warn you about the first pee in antenatal class.’ I attempt to laugh but somehow it falls flat. ‘You know he won’t break, don’t you? You can relax your arms a little.’

He smiles, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders. ‘Sorry, I keep having flashbacks, you know.’

He doesn’t need to elaborate. The image of Cory lying motionless on the hospital trolley isn’t one which will disappear from my own memory very easily. ‘I know, but he’s all right. He’s safe now.’ My voice holds a confidence which doesn’t quite reflect how I feel inside. How can I ever really guarantee his safety? Tragedy strikes all the time, doesn’t it? Especially in newborns. SIDS they call it, sudden infant death syndrome. I googled it repeatedly while pregnant, begged James to invest in a breathing monitor, but he rolled his eyes and told me I panicked too much. Perhaps I’ll broach the subject again; always better to be safe than sorry.

‘There were some cards on the mat when I nipped back earlier – news travels fast.’ James nods in the direction of the bed to where four or five cards are piled on top of one another.

‘I guess people have been waiting for this moment almost as long as we have.’ I sit down on the edge of the bed, wincing as I do, and pick up the first card in the pile. ‘You are all right, aren’t you?’ I ask as I begin to open the card, the distraction allowing me to avoid eye contact.

‘Perfect. Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘No reason.’

The first card is from my Auntie Kath and ‘Rosie the Dog’. The second is a Moonpig special from James’s cousin, typed in Arial black with a photograph of me and James on our wedding day on the front. Slightly odd but I suppose the thought was there.

‘This one’s just addressed to me.’ I lift up the third envelope in the pile, my name scrawled across the front in what appears to be red fountain pen.

‘Secret admirer?’ James winks at me, which, even after eight years of marriage, still has the ability to flip my stomach over. ‘Open it then,’ he says after a second.

I shove my fingers down the side of the flap and prise it open. On the front is a picture of a stork carrying a baby wrapped in a light-blue blanket. ‘That’s weird,’ I say, holding it up for James to see. ‘We haven’t announced the gender yet. Not unless you’ve sneaked it onto Facebook without me knowing?’

He barely lifts his eyes. ‘Of course I haven’t. Who’s it off?’

I open it up, stare down at the scrawled red handwriting inside, my mind unable to process what I am reading.

‘Lou, who’s it off?’

I snap it shut, my stomach twisting into a knot as the words inside begin to knit together in my brain. ‘Erm, just a woman from antenatal class, you don’t know her.’ I place it beside me on the bed and cover it over with my hand.

‘A psychic one?’

‘What?’

‘The blue blanket on the front. You all right, Lou?’

The embossed lettering on the front of the card burns my palm, and yet I daren’t lift up my hand. ‘I think I’m just exhausted. And visiting time is over. Best you go get some rest.’ I hold my breath, praying he leaves without pushing me further.

‘If you’re sure.’ He stands slowly, his heart seemingly in his mouth as he passes Cory over to me. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to holding him.’

‘Put him in the cot.’ I gesture over to the small, see-through cot with my eyes.

‘Really? I thought…’

‘He’s asleep.’ My words come out sharper than I intended. ‘You shouldn’t indulge babies. The book says.’

‘Well, if the book says.’ He laughs and rolls his eyes but thankfully places Cory down in the cot without further question.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow then.’

‘Yeah, see you tomorrow. And Lou…’ he says after a moment. ‘I am happy. More than I ever could have imagined.’

Tears prick the back of my eyes and I know without any doubt that I can never allow James to see inside the card. No matter what has gone before, I am a mum, my baby is safe, and my husband is happy.

Surely that’s all that matters?

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