Be Careful What You Hear (5 page)

I brushed at
Grace’s soft hair, and stroked her ear. ‘You know, little lady, you
are my saviour.’ She had got me through my problems. Just a smile
from her, a giggle, a knowing look from her perfect blue eyes,
raised me. I might have had post-natal depression, but Grace hadn’t
been the problem, she had been the solution.

Grace finished
her feed and I placed her back in the cot. James still hadn’t come
upstairs, and I considered going back down to see how he was. I
hoped that he wasn’t just sitting there, thinking about last night,
or worse still, standing at the patio doors looking out with fear
into the darkness. I brushed my teeth and climbed into bed. It was
then that James entered with his laptop. He looked much brighter
than before, and I wondered whether he had found a security light
on the internet.

‘What do you
think about this?’ he said, sliding the laptop towards me.

It was an image
of a white cottage, situated right by the sea, on a cliff side. The
photo had been taken from a distance, so you could see that the
building stood alone on the cliff’s edge. It looked the epitome of
isolation. In usual circumstances, this would fill me with joy – I
loved being away from it all, which I found to be a perfect
antidote to the hustle and bustle of London. But as I looked at the
screen, and noted the web address at the top –
www.coastalcottages.co.uk – my stomach lurched.

‘It looks
lovely.’

He smiled, but
it was the kind of nervous smile that set me on edge. ‘I’ve done
something a little out of character.’

I shifted in
the bed. ‘Like what?’

Again that
smile. ‘I’ve booked a weekend away.’

I asked the
question, but I already knew the answer. ‘When for?’

He hesitated,
which confirmed what I already knew. ‘This weekend.’

We’re all
going away…

And that’s
where it will all end.

I swallowed,
and tried to push my fears below the surface as James waited
expectantly for a reaction. ‘But today’s Friday. You booked a
holiday for tomorrow?’

James was
disappointed by my muted reaction. ‘Yes.’

‘Where is the
cottage?’

He seemed
crestfallen. ‘Devon. North Devon. I thought it would be great to
get away. We had such a great time down there in September. And
with everything that’s been going on recently, I just thought, what
the hell, let’s take off and get away from it all. Particularly as
I was taking Monday off anyway.’

I looked again
at the cottage. As I said, normally it would be my idea of a dream.
It was only the weird events of last night that was making this
seem somewhat sinister – except that I’d already decided that last
night was not what it had first appeared to be. ‘Is it child
friendly?’

He immediately
brightened, sliding up next to me on the bed. ‘I was careful to
check. It’s got a cot, and a high chair.’

‘Heating?’

‘Not central
heating, but it’s got a wood burner. I looked down the reviews, and
there are plenty from families with young children. They said it
was fine for them – cosy. And the fire has got a child proof
guard.’

I thought for a
few seconds. ‘November isn’t my ideal time to hit the coast. What’s
the weather forecast like?’

‘Cold, but dry
and sunny,’ he replied, without missing a beat. ‘There’s a low
pressure system nearby, but they said it’s going to miss where the
cottage is. We just need to bring warm clothes to wrap up in.’

‘Well, you’ve
certainly done your homework.’ I clicked through the various images
on the site. The inside of the cottage looked fantastic. It had
been done up very nicely. I could really see ourselves sitting
there, by the fire. In a way, it was a pity it would be just for
the weekend. But James had a full list on Tuesday, so would need to
be back by Monday evening at the latest.

‘I guess you
wouldn’t be able to get your money back,’ I said. I was teasing
slightly, but also wanted to gently make the point that I didn’t
really welcome such surprises.

‘Err, no, not
at such short notice.’

‘It’s okay,’ I
said, regretting my teasing. ‘Let’s do it. But packing is going to
be a bit of a nightmare. Maybe we’d better do some now, before we
go to bed.’ I twisted around to the clock radio. It was gone
eleven.

James smiled
and kissed me deeply. ‘How about we just pack in the morning?’

I kissed him
back. ‘Okay, Mr Adams, but we’ll regret it tomorrow.’

He grinned.
‘It’s been a long time since you’ve said that.’

6

I lay awake in
the darkness. James had fallen asleep, but I was struggling to find
peace. My mind was racing. James’ decision to book the last minute
break had unnerved me. Not just because of my deep down concern
about what I had thought I had heard over the baby monitor, but
also because I didn’t really like such surprises. I was a planner,
and liked to be strategic about things like holidays. I would spend
at least a week before going away getting things ready in my head;
making sure we had the right clothes, the right equipment, and the
right supplies. Now we had Grace, I was even more meticulous. We
had to think about feeding equipment, changing mats, nappies, bath
wash, her clothes, sheets, baby sleeping bags, and the monitor. The
list went on. So as I stared at the ceiling, I realised that there
was only one way to get to sleep, and that was to surrender to my
nature, get up, and begin planning.

I slipped out
of bed without James even stirring, and padded out of the room. The
heating had only gone off half an hour ago, but already there was a
chill in the air as I crossed the landing and crept downstairs. I
sat down at the breakfast table in the kitchen, armed with a pen
and my trusty notepad – it was in this that I wrote my daily and
weekly lists. I’d always been a ferocious list maker, ever since I
was little. It was the way I organised my life, and I’d be
completely lost without it.

I started
listing the items that we would need for the weekend. I cursed
silently that I hadn’t saved the list from our holiday in
September. That would have been the sensible thing to do. But no
matter. I soon had a list that I was happy contained most if not
all of the things that we would need to squash and squeeze into the
car for the long trip across to the South West. I glanced up at the
wall clock – it had only taken me half an hour.

Tap!

I stiffened at
the noise from outside. It sounded like something had tapped on the
patio doors, off to my right, shielded by the curtains. I found
myself holding my breath, as I waited for the noise to come
again.

Tap! Tap!

‘My God,’ I
whispered. I didn’t dare move.
Was it the wind, kicking up some
stones or sticks against the glass?

Except I hadn’t
noticed that it was windy outside. Normally when the wind was
strong you could hear it whistle across the top of our bedroom
window. I looked up at the ceiling. I was directly below our bed,
where James was sleeping

I made to
stand, deciding that I would head back upstairs and assume that the
noise was just something natural. I’d just reached the door, when
it was there again.

Tap! Tap!
Tap!

I looked back
again towards the curtains. I could still just turn around and go
upstairs. But instead, I inched towards the patio. I grabbed at the
curtains and hesitated.

What the hell
was I doing?

I flung back
the curtains and jumped back at the sight of the creature looking
in from the other side of the glass.

‘What
the…?’

It was a
seagull. The bird tapped twice on the glass, as if wanting to
confirm that it was indeed the source of the noise. I’d never known
seagulls to be hanging around gardens in the middle of the night.
The creature cocked its head, observing me. I must have looked
equally intriguing to it. I wondered whether it was hurt. That
could certainly explain why it was where it was – it could be
taking shelter, resting from an injury.

Relaxing, I
crouched down and touched the glass just next to the bird. It
brought its beak right up to the glass, and it felt like we were
connecting. But then, as if startled, it shot skywards, arcing into
the air and away.

It was then
that I saw the cottage.

I cupped my
hands against the patio glass. ‘What is this?’ Out ahead the garden
now stretched some hundred metres or so downhill into the darkness.
And then there was the cottage, at the edge of the cliff side. I
could see light coming from a window.

I slid open the
doors and jumped down onto the grass. A strong, salty sea breeze
hit me hard across the face. I ran downhill against the wind,
towards the cottage. Now I was closer, I could see smoke rising
from the chimney, and someone moving across the lit window.

I wasn’t sure
if they had seen my approach.

As the cottage
neared, I realised just how close to the edge of the cliff it was.
It was barely a few metres away from a vertiginous drop down into
the sea. Waves crashed and smashed on the rocks below.

I turned back
towards the cottage and rapped on the door. I heard scraping of a
chair across a floor, and the sound of footsteps coming closer.

The door was
yanked open.

‘James?’ I
said, as my husband looked back at me vaguely. ‘What are you doing
here?’

‘Waiting for
you,’ he replied, unsmiling. He stepped towards me, but something
about his manner made me take an instinctive step back. I realised
I was too close to the cliff’s edge to retreat any further, and
wobbled on the spot. Suddenly the sound of the crashing waves
seemed deafening.

‘James, you’re
scaring me. Can we just go inside?’

I heard the cry
of the seagull, which whirled overhead.

James smiled,
but it wasn’t a smile that I recognised. ‘This is such a perfect
spot to end it all.’

‘Please, James,
let’s just go inside the cottage.’ I attempted to step back towards
him, but he met me halfway, bringing his hands up, palms facing
me.

‘Time to end
the pain.’ He stated. ‘The pain for both of us.’

I shook my
head. ‘We’ve got through the bad times. We can move forward now,
you, me and Grace.’

He shook his
head ruefully. ‘No, it’s just you and me now.’

Anger and fear
flared in equal measure, as a particularly strong gust of wind
buffeted me, forcing me to fight my ground. ‘What have you done
with her?’

‘Come here,
George.’ He took another step forward, and then pushed out with
both hands, sending us both flying over the edge, into the
abyss.

I woke in a
panic, totally disorientated. But then there was intense relief,
when I realised that I had fallen asleep at the breakfast table. On
the table was my completed list of items to take on the holiday.
The pen had rolled off the table’s surface and lay on the floor. I
bent down to pick it up.

Tap!

This time it
was real. But I wasn’t going to stop and find out what was making
the noise. Instead I ran back upstairs, sliding under the covers
and wrapping my arms around James, who was still sleeping soundly.
I considered waking him, and telling him what I had heard
downstairs. But by the time I had weighed up the pros and cons of
disturbing his slumber, I’d fallen asleep.

***

Despite my
disrupted night, my body clock woke me early and I had time to
shower before feeding Grace. As I watched her sucking on the
bottle, I thought back to the dream. It had seemed so real. And
then there was the tapping sound that I had heard upon waking.
Maybe that noise, whatever its cause, had entered my subconscious
when I’d fallen asleep. My busy brain had then found its own
explanation for the tapping, merging it with the holiday, which of
course was the last thing I had been thinking about before falling
asleep.

You also didn’t
need to be a dream doctor to explain why I had dreamt about James
pushing me over the edge of the cliff. No matter how hard I tried
to push away the fears that came from what I thought I’d heard over
the monitor, they were still there.

‘Hi,’ James
said, standing at the door to Grace’s room, rubbing his forehead
sleepily with the palm of his hand. He was still in his pyjamas,
and his hair was messy from sleep. ‘You were obviously up bright
and early.’ He moved across and touched Grace lightly on the cheek,
while simultaneously kissing me on the top of my head.

‘I was up last
night too,’ I revealed.

‘Oh?’

‘Went
downstairs and wrote out a list for today.’

‘I see.’

I shrugged. ‘I
couldn’t get to sleep.’

He nodded. ‘I’m
just going to jump in the shower. Then I’ll get going with
packing.’

I took Grace
into our bedroom while I got some of our things ready. She was
happy on her play mat, grabbing at the toys I’d distributed near to
her. I thought James was still in the shower, but I heard a noise
outside and from our upstairs vantage point saw him in the
driveway, circling our car. He was prodding a foot against the
wheels.

I opened the
window. ‘Is everything okay?’

He looked up,
looking perturbed. ‘I’ll need to pump up the tyres.’

I was sure he’d
only done it a few weeks ago, but I didn’t question him from the
window, as I spotted Max walking past, taking an interest. So
instead, I resumed packing, checking that Grace was still happy. It
was still relatively safe to take my eyes off her for a minute or
so, as she wasn’t yet at the crawling, or even rolling stage. But I
didn’t like her out of my sight for long. I’d heard stories of even
very young babies who had suddenly started crawling for the first
time, and had got into danger right under the noses of their
unsuspecting parents. In one horror story reported in the local
press, a baby not much older than Grace had crawled out of an open
front door and right into the path of a car, being reversed out of
the garage by her mother. Thankfully the father, who was in the
house at the time, realised just in time and frantically waved the
car to a stop, just inches from the baby.