The Missing Wife. Sam Carrington
and her husband getting buddy-buddy. That wasn’t what Louisa needed to hear.
‘Really? I take it he didn’t happen to mention we dated back in college then.’ Louisa thought that would produce shock from Brian – even though it was years ago, she imagined he’d feel curious about an ex showing up, maybe even a bit jealous – but his expression didn’t waver.
‘Yeah, he did say, but he brushed over it really – it was more in passing than anything. I don’t remember you ever mentioning him, so I guess you didn’t date for long, that it wasn’t anything serious?’
It was a loaded question. If she said, ‘no, not long, not serious,’ Brian would wonder why Oliver had been bothered enough to attend her party. On the other hand, if she said, ‘two years, and quite serious,’ he’d probe further – want to know more details about their relationship. Oliver’s motive for turning up to her fortieth birthday would also be more thoroughly scrutinised. Louisa decided it was best to do what Oliver had obviously done – brush over it.
‘We were teenagers, having a wild time at college – you know what it was like back then. How long or serious was any relationship? It was so long ago I can barely remember.’ Louisa wiped the beads of sweat from her top lip then quickly repositioned Noah, lowering him from her shoulder and nestling her face into his.
‘True,’ Brian said, not appearing to notice her discomfort, ‘and he didn’t seem the type to hold on to the past or be someone who’d never got over his first love.’ Brian laughed. Louisa almost asked what he did consider Oliver’s ‘type’ to be, and how he could tell from one conversation. She thought better of it, instead shining the spotlight elsewhere.
‘What about his wife – what was she like?’
Brian shrugged. ‘Wife? He didn’t mention a wife.’
‘Well, she was with him. At the party.’
‘Didn’t see him with anyone. Well, not in a couple-type way. He was talking to lots of people. Seemed to take a shine to Tiff …’
Who didn’t, Louisa thought. In her hungover state, the complexities of the evening were too much to decipher. As Noah was quiet, Louisa thought she’d take the opportunity to lie down with him. If she had a nap, things would be clearer afterwards. For the moment, Louisa had no idea what on earth had happened at her party.
But something felt off.
Lovely to celebrate your milestone birthday with you last night. Being with you brought back so many memories. Can we meet? I need to see you. Something happened. Oliver xx
Louisa was sitting on the double bed, her back against the headboard and Noah asleep on a pillow on her lap. She stared at her phone in her hand. She’d reread the Facebook message several times since opening it an hour ago, each time attaching a different meaning to it.
The worst of those meanings was that she had gone back to her room, as Brian had told her, and Oliver had followed her in and they’d slept together.
Louisa prayed that was the worst-case scenario – and the wrong one. But what other meaning could ‘something happened’ possibly have?
Why the hell had Brian taken her ex-boyfriend’s word that she’d made it safely into the accommodation building? Granted it was only yards from the pub, but still. She was clearly drunk; she’d have expected Brian to check up on her himself, not to take some bloke’s word for it. Someone he’d only just met. This was his fault.
But whosever fault it was, Oliver’s words now glared at her accusingly.
Delete it. Don’t respond.
She didn’t delete it, closing the Facebook app on her phone instead. She’d block him later, so he couldn’t contact her again. She never should’ve bothered logging into Facebook; she knew full well it was a bad idea the first time, and why was she looking again now? She should delete her entire account and be done with it. But she’d read his message, and now she couldn’t unsee it. Whatever may have happened last night, it would’ve been a mistake. She’d been under the influence. Not only of drink, but of medication too. Unprescribed at that. Louisa tutted at her own stupidity. She’d only wanted to sleep, though. Who could blame her for that?
Louisa wrote out a text to Tiff. She went around the houses a bit – first off asking how her head was, then moving on to mention the party before finally asking if she’d had any recollection of seeing where she went after going out for ‘fresh air’ and not returning. It seemed odd to Louisa that she would say that and then not bother returning to the party. Unless she’d felt so ill she decided she’d be better off in her room.
Yes, that had to be it. She was worrying over nothing. Having not set eyes on her for over twenty years, Oliver had no reason to lie about having seen her stumble into the entrance to the rooms. His message must be to do with something else.
Either way, she knew she shouldn’t contact him. She was in a vulnerable position – an exhausted new mum, trying to cope with a baby as well as a teenager, hormones all over the shop. She feared it wouldn’t take much to fall under Oliver’s spell once more, and she had to avoid that at all costs.
Remember, he left you. Left you alone to face the consequences.
This thought, which appeared in her mind out of nowhere, made her legs go numb.
The ding of a text sounded. Tiff.
Feel like death. As far as my memory allows, though, it was a good party! That Oliver was a bit of a dish. Can’t believe you never mentioned him before! And no, I really don’t know where you disappeared to – last place I have a clear memory seeing you was the beer garden. But I only saw you from the window while I was chatting to some random, and you were with someone too, so I assumed you were OK. I’m sorry I was too far gone to come and find you. What a friend I am.
She wasn’t any use then. If Tiff had said she’d been chatting to Oliver after Louisa had done a disappearing act, that might’ve put her mind at ease a bit; he couldn’t have been in two places at once. But no – some ‘random’. Louisa cursed Tiff again for going through her Facebook friends. It could’ve been anyone.
Louisa carried the pillow with her sleeping baby on it to the nursery, placing it inside the cot. Carefully, she slipped Noah off and he gently rolled onto the mattress. Louisa let out her breath. He grumbled, wriggling a little, but then, thankfully, he settled. Transfer successful, she crept out of the room. Brian and Emily’s voices drifted up as Louisa hesitated on the stairs. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she caught the words ‘worried’ and ‘acting weird’. She turned and headed back to her bedroom.
She couldn’t face her family right now.
Monday – Day 3 post-party
There’d been little mention of the party, or its aftermath, on Sunday. Louisa had managed to cook a roast chicken lunch while Brian took care of Noah. If nothing else, he seemed to be making more of an effort. Perhaps now his secret party organising was over, he’d be more attentive.
Thankfully, now it was Monday,