The Missing Wife. Sam Carrington
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.
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.