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The Missing Wife
The Missing Wife

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The Missing Wife

Язык: Английский
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‘Oh, what’s going on with her?’ Louisa squinted at the page as Tiff reached around the laptop and scrolled down to Sarah’s latest status update.

‘Life is too short to be with people who hold you back. Embrace change. Don’t be afraid to turn the page of your own story or you’ll never reach the next chapter.’

‘Okay, it’s a bit deep – but I don’t understand, what’s wrong with it? It’s just some motivational quote.’

‘Haven’t you been keeping up? Don’t you realise what this means?’

Louisa sighed. Keeping up with Facebook wasn’t something that had occurred to her during the last three months of sleep-deprived baby tasks. She hadn’t been that great with social media prior to Noah’s birth, but the most she used the internet for at the moment was searching for ‘how to prevent colic’ or ‘tricks to make him sleep like a baby’. As well as the chat rooms on Mumsnet – they were her current lifeline. Not the goings-on with friends-who-weren’t-even-real-friends on bloody Facebook. If it wasn’t for Tiff having set up her Facebook profile in the first place, she’d never have bothered with it. Fake lives and fake friends were not her thing.

‘It’s not something I’ve been compelled to do, no. I’ve been a little preoccupied …’

‘Well, yes, I guess. You are useless at posting anyway, and you never respond to my posts, even if I tag you.’

‘Sorry.’ It was quicker and easier to apologise rather than get into a debate about the negative aspects of splashing your life online.

‘Not to worry. Anyway, I digress. Back to Sarah. After being “found out” last month, she’s been keeping a low profile. But then, this. It has to mean she’s still seeing Mark, doesn’t it? We’re all going to the school fundraiser on Wednesday evening, so no doubt I will find out more then.’ Tiff looked pleased with herself. She and Sarah had history and it was no secret they’d clashed over who was better at organising village events – whether it was for the primary school, the cottage garden society show or the church fund, Tiff liked doing it all. Without much help. And certainly not from Sarah Weaver, who she viewed as a nuisance and someone who put barriers up where there shouldn’t be any (even if she was right). Tiff liked to think of herself as THE fundraising organiser of the village – the best and only ‘go-to’ person there was. Anything that put Sarah, her main competition to this title, in a poor light was a good outcome as far as she was concerned. So, if there were rumours, Tiff wasn’t likely to do anything other than fan the flames.

Despite Tiff not having any children, let alone at the school, she’d managed to get in with the head teacher by volunteering to read with some of the younger pupils. Louisa suspected that Tiff’s stated motive for doing it – so she could organise events – was only part of the reason. From some of the conversations they’d had over the years, Louisa deduced that Tiff regretted her decision not to have a family and now believed this was her way of being a part of something she felt she was missing out on. The fact she could be so pushy, and even hoity about it, always came as a surprise to Louisa.

She often wondered how they’d become such good friends. They’d met at a mutual friend’s wedding eight years ago and somehow just clicked. As unlikely a friendship as it was, and a total surprise to Brian, they’d remained close ever since. Maybe it was because Louisa posed no threat to Tiff’s aspirations: Louisa was never going to want to be an organiser of anything because she didn’t even like events or parties. If she was coerced into going to one, she’d be the person keeping quiet in the corner of the room, drinking an orange juice and looking lost. Tiff was welcome to the attention.

Louisa was suddenly aware she was meant to be offering an answer – responding to Tiff’s assumptions about Sarah’s extramarital affair in the way her friend wanted her to. As this finally sank in, Louisa realised it gave her an opportunity to bring up the real reason she’d visited today.

‘Let me get this right,’ Louisa said. ‘You think Sarah has been having an affair with Mark – her best friend’s husband?’

‘Er … yes! I know you’ve been off the scene for a bit, but how come you’ve missed all of that? It’s not like we live in a big village – it’s tiny, and everyone knows everyone. I don’t know, Louisa – sometimes you disappoint me.’ She shook her head. ‘And anyway, I thought we talked about this last time we had coffee?’

‘I don’t remember …’

‘Baby brain,’ Tiff mocked. ‘Anyway, how evil is that?’

This was Louisa’s chance to mention the text. But with Tiff’s obvious distaste for what Sarah had done, why then would she be doing the same to Louisa? Although, it was always easier to judge someone else’s actions rather than your own. And she may only be reacting to this because it was Sarah, not because she actually felt it was evil.

Louisa took a deep breath. ‘Yeah, that’s awful. Who would cheat with their best friend’s husband?’ She stared into Tiff’s deep-blue eyes, expecting to see a hint of guilt.

‘A bitch, Louisa. A total bitch, that’s who,’ Tiff said vehemently.

‘You’d never do that to me, would you?’

The burst of laughter made Louisa jump. For a moment she was puzzled – she hadn’t realised she’d said the words out loud, only thought them.

‘What? God, of course not. And, you know, it’s not as if Brian is my type.’ She threw her head back and carried on laughing.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Louisa put her mug down hard on the coaster. She’d managed to go from mistrust to indignation in a beat.

‘You’re serious,’ Tiff said. The laughter stopped, her smile disappearing. ‘I’m confused, Lou. What’s up with you?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m just hormonal. It’s nothing.’

‘No, go on. It’s obviously something or you wouldn’t be reacting in this way.’

‘I feel bad now. I – I shouldn’t have looked …’

‘Looked at what?’ A mask of concern darkened Tiff’s face. Louisa regretted saying anything, but now she’d come this far she may as well continue.

‘A text. On Brian’s phone. He’s been weird lately, acting suspiciously, on the bloody mobile all the time. All hush-hush stuff. I thought he must be having an affair …’ Louisa looked up at Tiff, her face stony. ‘Maybe it’s with Sarah.’ Louisa gave a nervous laugh. But it was too late to make jokes – Tiff knew what she was getting at.

‘No. Not Sarah. But not me either. Not anyone, Lou. He only loves you.’ Her voice was cool.

Louisa swallowed hard. ‘Why are you arranging to meet then? Friday, you said in the text.’

Tiff got up and walked around the kitchen island to Louisa.

‘Look, Lou,’ Tiff said, putting an arm around her shoulders. ‘Even if Brian was my type, I’d never cross that line. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a husband-snatcher. And I would never go after my best friend’s husband. I’m going to put this down to your sleep-deprived state – and your loopy hormones, like you said – and try not to be deeply hurt that you’d even think such a thing. Now, how about another coffee?’ Her hand slipped from Louisa’s shoulder as she straightened and moved away.

Louisa frowned. Tiff hadn’t denied the text, although she’d put up a convincing argument about how she wouldn’t have an affair with Brian. Because of her reaction Louisa didn’t feel she could carry on the conversation or ask anything more about Friday – not without alienating her further.

There was something more, though, she could sense it.

Louisa realised she only half-believed her best friend. And that didn’t sit well at all.

5

THE REQUEST

Thursday p.m.

Louisa awoke with her head and torso slumped over her lap. She straightened, taking a deep breath as she looked round the room. She was in Noah’s nursery, in the chair.

Her heart gave a jolt. She’d been feeding Noah.

She looked down. He was quiet. Still. Cradled in her arms. She’d fallen asleep over him.

Louisa shook him gently.

Nothing.

She jumped up, holding Noah upright.

A sharp cry.

For a moment she was relieved. But the cry was her own.

‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Brian crashed through the door, hair ruffled, his face ashen.

‘No – ah …’ Louisa gasped for air, holding the limp baby up towards her husband.

‘What? What about him. He’s quiet, Lou, leave him to sleep.’ Brian’s brow was furrowed.

‘I – I was feeding him, I fell asleep – he’s – he’s not breathing, Brian!’

Brian hit the light switch. A soft yellow illumination filled the small room.

‘Louisa.’ He reached out and took her arms. ‘Louisa, he’s just asleep—’

‘No. I squashed him, look …’ Louisa was afraid to gaze down again, fearful of seeing the damage she’d done. But suddenly her arms felt light.

She looked down.

Noah wasn’t in them.

‘You must’ve been asleep and dreamt it, Lou. He’s fine. He’s in his cot, and he’s breathing. I promise.’ Brian pulled Louisa gently towards the cot and placed her shaking hand on Noah’s chest. ‘See?’

Louisa’s breathing slowed as she felt the steady rise and fall.

Tears of relief slipped down her cheeks. It hadn’t felt like a dream. She’d been certain he was in her arms.

‘Come to bed.’ Brian’s voice – soft, coaxing – relaxed her.

Louisa could only nod as Brian took her hand and gently guided her to their room. She climbed into bed. But she didn’t fall asleep again. A coil of fear remained – an ache, a pain she couldn’t rid herself of – the question of whether she’d hallucinated purely because of sleep deprivation lay heavy in her exhausted mind.

She waited for Brian’s deep guttural snoring to start, then she crept out of bed.

Her online search yielded a long list of hits. Louisa’s anxiety at what had happened – her belief she’d suffocated Noah when he wasn’t even in her arms despite her eyes telling her otherwise – lessened slightly. It seemed hallucinations were one of the most common effects of lack of sleep. One article mentioned that the effects of sleep deprivation could mimic mental illness.

Louisa began to panic that having Noah, and the lack of sleep that came with him, might have triggered her old problem. Or was the article right – was she merely experiencing the effects of not sleeping? She didn’t want to think about it. Louisa closed Google and was about to log into Mumsnet, but then decided Facebook might take her mind off things more. Thinking about what Tiff had said about Sarah, and the fact Louisa had never responded to being tagged, she thought now was as good a time as any to catch up. She may even find evidence of something going on between Tiff and Brian. They were both aware she didn’t really use Facebook and therefore would be unlikely to spot anything untoward – they may have taken advantage of that.

After a few failed attempts at logging in, Louisa finally recalled her ‘easy-to-remember’ password that Tiff had set for her and the homepage popped up. She immediately searched Tiff’s and Brian’s profiles. There were a few ‘likes’ – and Brian had commented on Tiff’s last profile picture she uploaded – simply saying ‘lovely’ – but surely that was nothing to worry about. She scrolled through the last two weeks of status updates, new photos and every comment on Tiff’s account, checking to see if Brian had said anything inappropriate. Then she did the same on Brian’s. Even though she was analysing everything as if under a microscope, she couldn’t find anything that looked suspicious in terms of them having an affair.

She then clicked on to Sarah’s profile. At first glance, her life looked perfect. Every photo Sarah posted showed smiling faces; happy families – on outings, all sitting around the table having a family meal, the kids all behaving. The picture of perfection – then she did the dirty? Facebook is a lie, Louisa concluded. In fact, she would go as far as saying it was evil. The fakeness appalled her. It was why she kept off it, although, deep down she knew that wasn’t the only reason.

As she moved the cursor to close it down, vowing to herself never to go back on the site, Louisa’s attention was caught by the number beside the miniature world icon on the top right of her page. Thirty notifications.

Ignore them.

It’s not like she had tons of friends – real or otherwise – so despite a long absence she hadn’t expected to see so many notifications.

Louisa relinquished and clicked on them.

Her breath ceased for a few seconds. Every one of them was from a single source, and it was not Tiff, as she’d expected. And all but one of them was the same.

Oliver Dunmore invited you to join the group Exeter College Leavers 1997

The newest notification was the only one that was different.

You joined the group Exeter College Leavers 1997

How had she joined? She hadn’t accepted the invitation.

Oliver was not a person she wished to remember, and neither was her time at Exeter College. Louisa’s head swam.

She slammed the laptop lid closed.

6

THE OFFER

Friday a.m.

‘You look dreadful. You can’t go on with this little sleep, Lou.’ Brian’s opening line as he walked into the kitchen holding Noah was an unnecessary statement.

‘I know that. I’m really feeling it. Last night scared me.’

‘Me too. You were so utterly convinced you’d killed him.’ Brian passed Noah to her, then gave her shoulders a squeeze before sitting down at the table opposite her. ‘Your eyes … they were manic, Lou. You didn’t look like you.’

‘I’m so sorry for freaking you out.’ Louisa dropped her gaze, not wanting Brian to see the fear in her eyes. She smiled at Noah’s scrunched-up face as he yawned.

‘I’m having Noah tonight. There’s enough milk in the freezer and he’ll be okay with me bottle-feeding him for one night. I’m going to take you to Court Farm this afternoon. I’ve booked you a room there – you need to get some sleep.’

‘What? No, Brian. It’s a lovely thought but I can’t leave Noah. I won’t sleep if I’m away from him, I’ll just worry all the time.’

‘He’ll be absolutely fine with me. Don’t you trust me?’

Four words. Ones that had huge weight attached to them. Louisa couldn’t even answer immediately.

‘I know I’ve not been pulling my weight.’ Brian reached across, running his fingertips gently across Louisa’s cheek. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been selfish. But let me do this now. For you.’ He looked at her with pleading eyes. ‘Please?’

The text to Tiff was fresh in her mind. He wanted her out of the way so he could meet up with her.

‘I don’t feel confident. Not with how I’ve been feeling …’

‘Tiff will be with you.’

‘What?’

‘Tiff is going to stay too. Separate room, don’t worry – you need solid sleep, not to be chatting all night.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Louisa frowned. This was an unexpected turn.

‘I could see how badly this lack of sleep was affecting you. I’ve been talking to Tiff, asking her advice really, and together we thought this would at least give you a bit of a break …’

Louisa sank back in the chair. Had their messaging and the hushed conversations all been about arranging one night away from her baby? Louisa’s face flushed. Shit. She’d practically accused Tiff of having an affair with her husband. As well as hallucinations, she could now tick paranoia off the sleep deprivation checklist.

‘But it’s a pub, Brian. I won’t sleep with all the noise.’

‘The rooms are in a converted barn adjacent to the pub so it should be fine. Even if you don’t get to sleep until midnight, you could still get seven, eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. It’ll be far better than what you’ve been getting.’

Louisa contemplated it. It wasn’t as if her parents could take Noah, like they used to Emily. They were too old now: her mother too fragile, her dad clueless – plus, she hadn’t even spoken to them for weeks, their relationship remaining strained. Even when they’d looked after Emily, Louisa had always felt it’d been something they’d done out of duty rather than love. Each time her mum agreed to take Emily it was a decision edged with bitterness.

Louisa’s rocky relationship with them, her mother in particular, was a hangover from her teenage years – she’d often been told how she’d been challenging, that her erratic behaviour when she was at college had caused no end of worry. Louisa had spent a long time wishing she could’ve gone away to a college further afield, rather than to the closest one. But commuting daily to Exeter was simpler and it wasn’t as though she had much choice anyway. It wasn’t like going off to uni, where it was expected you live away from home. She was only doing A levels and none of her friends had their own digs; all of them lived at home too, so she couldn’t even crash at anyone else’s. Things might have been very different if that had been a possibility.

Considering her lack of options, Brian’s offer may well be her only opportunity to have some time out. One night couldn’t hurt. And she really needed sleep if the last few days, and particularly last night, were anything to go by.

‘Thank you.’ She gave a grateful smile.

‘Good. That’s settled then.’ Brian got up and moved to the worktop where his mobile was. He unplugged it from its charger and was immediately immersed in texting. Tiff, she presumed.

‘We got any Coco Pops?’ Emily breezed into the kitchen. No ‘good morning’, no eye contact.

‘Unless you’ve eaten them all, then yes – in the larder.’

Emily huffed and sloped over to the larder, pulling the yellow box from the top shelf. Louisa watched as her handbag banged back against the door as Emily went to close it. She must remember to take the bag with her secret stash of cigarettes inside to Court Farm later. She’d also take her tablets from the drawer. While one night away from Noah might be beneficial, she had a feeling she’d need more help than that to sleep well.

7

THE DECOY

Friday p.m.

Tiff’s car – a volcano-red Audi A8, so she’d informed Louisa when she’d bought it brand new – drew up outside at smack on five. Louisa watched from the window as Tiff got out, perfectly dressed as usual, her Ray-Ban sunglasses on, despite the March weather being quite dull. Louisa looked down at her own ensemble: the same jeans she’d been wearing all week and a plain black baggy T-shirt. She should’ve made more effort, but then again, it was meant to be a relaxing night away so it didn’t really matter what she wore.

Brian had come home from work early and taken Noah out for a walk – Emily begrudgingly went with them. Louisa had said her goodbyes. In her head, she repeated, It’s only one night. She knew it could only do her good.

She’d made sure her cigarettes and tablets were in her bag – she’d already taken two tablets that morning as a precaution, knowing her anxiety levels would be increasing. Checking the freezer, she noted there was a good stack of frozen milk, even more than she’d thought. How had she pumped off that much? As far as she could tell, her milk production had slowed to the degree she was considering supplementing Noah with formula. At least she didn’t have to worry about him going hungry. The bottles were freshly sterilised. All was taken care of. She popped two more tablets out of the aluminium pack, swallowed them without water, and threw the packet back into her handbag as she thrust it over her shoulder and walked towards the front door.

‘Hi, hun! You not ready yet?’ Tiff said as she embraced Louisa, then stood back to take in her appearance.

‘Er … yes. I didn’t see the point in dressing up,’ Louisa said.

‘No, no I guess not. Have you packed anything else?’ Tiff’s frown said it all.

‘I’ve got another T-shirt.’ Louisa held up the small overnight bag she’d found in the back of the wardrobe and that she’d stuffed with minimal supplies.

‘Why don’t you pop upstairs and grab something nice for later – a dress or something.’

‘For later? I was planning on sleeping later, Tiff.’

‘Yes, yes. Of course. I thought I’d treat you to a nice dinner though, before you bed down for the night. You’re looking pasty lately, like you’re in need of a good meal. And you know, a drink or two, which I’m sure will help you settle quicker.’ She smiled.

Louisa knew it was futile to argue so she bounded up the stairs, pulled her old faithful off the hanger – a flower-print jersey dress – and shoved it inside her bag. She grabbed her make-up bag too. Pasty. She would make a small effort, just to get Tiff off her back.

‘Right, let’s go!’ Tiff was out of the door before Louisa could say anything.

The room was small but adequate. Louisa had often been to the restaurant and bar at Court Farm but living so close meant there’d never been a need to stay. It felt weird to be sleeping away from home when it was only two miles away. She really hoped she felt better after tonight; Brian would be so disappointed if his plan didn’t work, but Louisa knew that she’d need far more than one night for a difference to be made.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Louisa opened the door to Tiff.

‘My plan is that you shower now, dress up, slap on some war paint and we hit the bar in an hour. Sound good?’

‘Well, I guess.’ Anxiety coursed through her body like a rapidly spreading virus. It seemed a lot to do in an hour, and the double bed with its fluffy pillows and crisp, clean bed linen looked really inviting.

‘I’ll go and get some wine. It’ll be like old times, getting ready to go out.’ Tiff’s enthusiasm made Louisa smile in spite of her misgivings. When they’d first been friends, Tiff regularly dragged Louisa out on a Friday night – not clubbing, those times were long gone – but they’d go into Newton, traipse from one pub to another, Tiff drinking more than was sensible, and they’d have a good laugh. It was the time getting ready at Tiff’s house that used to make Louisa’s night. She always went to Tiff’s because there, Louisa had no one making any demands on her: she could avoid Emily’s bedtime and leave the calming-down period and story-telling to Brian, so it was more fun. She’d have been fine with just that, not even bothering to go out. Louisa wasn’t much of a drinker, not since her college days. She’d allow Tiff to get her a drink now, though. One wouldn’t hurt, and it wasn’t as though she had to feed Noah.

‘Okay. I’d better jump in the shower then.’

‘Excellent,’ Tiff said as she did a dramatic twirl and left the room. Louisa took out the dress she’d squashed into her bag, brushing it down and hoping the creases wouldn’t be too visible once it was on her. This could be just what she needed – a shower in complete peace, a few hours of being ‘normal’, a nice meal, a good natter and an entire night of undisturbed sleep. Just in case though, she would take a couple more of the pills. She didn’t want to waste the opportunity of getting rest by lying awake all night worrying. Her mind always came alive the second her head hit the pillow, so it was worth having a back-up. She swallowed the capsules with water from the tap and went into the bathroom.

Tiff had convinced Louisa to have two glasses of wine while they were getting ready, and her head now felt woozy. She should’ve waited to eat before having the second. They made their way out of the accommodation building, which, just as Brian had told her, was adjacent to the pub. Tiff had her head down, busy texting. Louisa prickled, irritated that Tiff couldn’t stay off her mobile for even a few hours. Louisa shook her head. She hoped tonight wasn’t a mistake. Shuffling along behind Tiff, who was now quite forcibly pushing through some people standing at the bar, Louisa kept her head lowered. An uncomfortable sensation rippled through her; she didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone, suddenly feeling exposed – everyone staring at her.

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