Claiming Noah (12 page)

‘What do you think of these?' Diana asked her mother as she held up a pair of red jeans. ‘Would these look good on me?'

‘Of course,' Eleanor said. ‘You look great in anything.'

‘But would Liam like them, do you think?'

Eleanor made a face at her. ‘Darling, you should buy what
you
like, not what Liam likes.'

‘I do buy things for me,' Diana said. ‘But you know what I mean. I want to look nice for him. Just because I'm a mother now doesn't mean that I can't look nice for my husband.'

‘And do you think he makes the same effort for you?' Eleanor asked.

‘Of course he does, don't say that. It's very important to him that he looks nice.'

‘But does he do that for you or for him?'

‘Give it a rest, would you, Mum? I'm allowed to want to look nice for my husband.'

She put the jeans back on the rack and picked up a long black skirt instead. A skirt would cover her lumpy bits better than jeans would. After collecting a few more pieces she instructed her mother to stay with Noah while she went to the change room. With each item she tried on she became more depressed about her weight. Nothing fitted properly, and the only things that did fit made her look like she was in her forties. Eventually Diana decided on a loose white top and a long dress that skimmed over her stomach and hid most of the parts she wanted to hide. As she left the change room she vowed to herself that she would make an effort to eat better and fit in some exercise while Noah slept. Liam deserved to have his pre-baby wife back.

‘I'd better head home soon,' Eleanor said to Diana after they had visited a few more clothes shops. ‘I'm having dinner with Pam tonight. Her husband's out of town.'

‘Of course,' Diana said. ‘Take off whenever you want. I'm sorry I've held you hostage all day.'

‘Don't be silly, you know I love spending time with you and my grandson.' Eleanor ducked her head under the wrap so she could kiss Noah goodbye. ‘Are you going to leave now too?'

‘Soon,' Diana said. ‘I just have to get some groceries. It's a good opportunity while he's asleep. I'm out all day tomorrow and we have hardly any food in the house.'

‘Do you want some help? I have time.'

Diana kissed her mother's cheek. ‘No, I'm fine, you go. I'll see you for dinner on Sunday. Let me know if I can bring anything.'

Eleanor waved goodbye and walked off to the car park as Diana made her way to the garishly lit supermarket in the distance.

•  •  •

The supermarket was surprisingly busy given the time of day, and Diana struggled to squeeze herself and the pram past the usual motley types who inhabited supermarkets: the pensioners walking at a snail's pace through the aisles, groups of schoolkids congregated in the lolly aisle, and the inevitable two or three people who left their trolley in the middle of the aisle while they went in search of something they had forgotten. She didn't enjoy grocery shopping at the best of times, but having Noah with her made it infinitely more difficult. She had learned the hard way that it was better to get the shopping done as quickly as possible while he was asleep so she could avoid being stuck in the middle of a supermarket with a screaming baby, a basket full of groceries, and nowhere to breast-feed him or change his nappy.

When she looked under the wrap Noah was still asleep, cocooned in a pile of blankets. She smiled at him, enamoured by the peaceful look on his face. He was such a good sleeper, she was so lucky. She replaced the wrap over the pram, determined not to wake him before she was finished at the supermarket.

Diana noticed a man alone with a pram and thought how sweet it was. She hadn't convinced Liam to take Noah out on his own yet. But this man looked perfectly content as he pushed the pram down the fruit-and-vegetable aisle. She smiled when she saw that it was the same pram as theirs; she and Liam had spent weeks researching prams and Liam had convinced her that only the best one would do. It had cost them a small fortune and was so heavy Diana struggled to pick it up even when it was empty, but it had a better turning circle than her car and judging from the amount of times she had seen people with the same pram it was a popular choice.

Diana had to force herself to concentrate as she scanned the supermarket shelves for the products she needed. She now knew what people meant by ‘baby brain'. Ever since she became pregnant with Noah she couldn't remember even the simplest things. And this time of the day was the worst because she was tired and wanted nothing more than to go home and take a nap. She must have stared at the shelves of pasta sauces for three minutes, trying to remember which brand Liam wanted her to buy, as people walked up and down the aisle next to her. The man with the matching pram squeezed past her in the tight aisle at one point and she briefly considered asking him what brand of pasta sauce he liked before she realised how ridiculous that would sound. She eventually picked a jar at random and told herself Liam was lucky she was doing the shopping at all. By the time she broke out of her reverie she realised she had left Noah's pram halfway down the aisle while she had perused the shelves. Feeling like a terrible mother she quickly collected the pram and made her way to the checkout. The rest of the groceries would have to wait for another day.

The queue at the supermarket register was five deep, which annoyed Diana because she just wanted to get home, unpack the shopping and have a rest before Noah woke up. An older lady standing in the queue in front of her turned around and smiled at Diana when she saw the pram. She had a stereotypical grandmother look about her: greying hair, a yellow twin-set and sensible shoes. She may as well have been a caricature. ‘How old is your little one?' she asked Diana.

‘He's two months old now. Nearly to the day.'

‘May I?' the woman asked, reaching for the wrap.

‘No, please don't,' Diana said, pulling the pram out of her reach in an automatic reaction. ‘He's asleep. The lights will wake him up.'

Affronted, the woman turned around and faced the front of the store. Diana felt bad for snapping at her, but she wasn't in the mood to have a stranger gawk at her baby and if Noah woke up now she would either have to go to the unappealing parents' room in the shopping centre to feed him or face a car ride home with a screaming baby. The woman paid for her groceries and walked off without acknowledging Diana.

The cashier scanned her groceries seemingly in slow motion as Diana willed him to hurry up. He was young, maybe fifteen, and he had a head full of thick brown curls. He was quite handsome, and Diana found herself wondering if Noah would look like him one day. When he noticed Diana smiling at him he looked taken aback and then he smiled in return and gestured to the pram.

‘How old is your baby?' he asked.

‘Two months old,' Diana said. ‘Nearly to the day.'

‘My girlfriend's pregnant,' he said. ‘She's due in November.'

Horrified, Diana thought of Noah and how she would feel if he became a father when he was a teenager. She recovered from her shock enough to put on a polite smile. ‘That's very exciting. I'm sure you'll love being a father.'

From the look on his face she assumed he didn't agree with her.

After she left the supermarket Diana stopped by the butcher for two steaks and some sausages and then picked up a container of the dried figs Liam loved so much from the health-food store before finally making her way to the car. Noah still hadn't made a sound. It was nearly time for his four o'clock feed, but if he was still sleeping, then she wasn't going to wake him. This way she could, she hoped, drive home and unpack the groceries before he even stirred. In her new life as a full-time mother, that would count as a major achievement for the day.

In the busy underground car park, Diana opened the boot of the car and unloaded the shopping bags before she turned her attention to the pram. She still hadn't quite got the knack of moving Noah while he was asleep without waking him, but she was determined to do it successfully this time. She positioned the pram against the car and opened the back door. Once she was ready to move Noah she turned to the pram, pulled the wrap off and reached down for him.

Her scream lodged at the pit of her throat, unable to make its way past her neck muscles, which had constricted in terror.

The pram was empty.

Monday, 30 April 2012

C
atriona watched the stripes of sunlight that burst through the gaps between the closed venetian blinds in her bedroom, inching their way across the blue floral pattern of her bedspread like slow-moving caterpillars. The sun was rising higher into the sky and once the beams of light had made their journey from her feet, up her legs and torso and then on to her face, shining into her eyes and paining her, Catriona gave a loud sigh and twisted her body out of the single bed. Letting both feet fall on to the floor, she stood on the blue rug in her pyjamas and looked around the room that had been her home for the past few days. Like her bedroom, the clinic was awash in blue. Blue-hued artworks lined the walls, which had been painted a pastel blue. Blue couches squatted around the perimeter of the recreation room. At some point a psychologist must have deemed blue to be the best colour with which to surround people who were suffering from mental-health problems. People like her.

Gardenia Gardens was a psychiatric clinic specialising in psychotic and bipolar disorders. She had been admitted to the clinic late Thursday night, transferred from the emergency department of her local hospital. James had taken her there after he found Catriona trying to drown Sebastian in the bath. She couldn't remember anything after he interrupted her until she found herself lying on a hospital bed, with James holding Sebastian and a doctor standing beside her. They were in the middle of a conversation.

‘Our recommended treatment is admission to a hospital with a mother-and-baby unit,' the doctor said to James, his back to Catriona.

She shuffled to the edge of the bed so she could hear what he was saying over the cacophony in the emergency department. Someone on the other side of the white curtain next to her bed was crying, and another person was trying to console them. Shoes squeaked as people walked back and forth on the polished hospital floor. A doctor was paged over an intercom.

‘They specialise in treating women with postpartum disorders,' the doctor continued. ‘The women are kept under constant supervision, so you don't have to worry.'

‘Can we get her in there tonight?' James asked.

‘I'm afraid not. There are very few beds. I've made some calls, and you're probably looking at three weeks or so before a bed becomes available. I can put you on the waiting list, and help you arrange a full-time carer to look after your wife—'

‘I don't want to be alone with him,' Catriona said.

The doctor and James looked at her in surprise, as if they had forgotten she was there.

‘There will be people looking after you and your baby at all times,' the doctor said. ‘You won't have to take care of him by yourself.'

Catriona stared at the ceiling, averting her gaze from Sebastian, but even so she felt the magnitude of his presence in the room. She shivered and hugged her arms across her chest. ‘I can't be around him.'

‘Is there anything else we can do?' James asked the doctor. He spoke so quietly Catriona wasn't sure whether she was supposed to hear him or not. ‘Three weeks is a long time.'

‘We can admit your wife to a general psychiatric facility until such time as a space opens up in one of the mother–baby units, or she recovers enough to be cared for at home. But she won't be able to take your son with her.'

Catriona felt James staring at her, scrutinising her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him transfer Sebastian to his right arm, the one furthest from her. When he spoke, she heard a tremor in his voice.

‘I think we should do that,' he said to the doctor. ‘I can take time off work to look after Sebastian.'

‘Okay. Well, it's your choice of course.'

‘What do we have to do?'

‘I'll give you a referral and we should be able to get your wife admitted straightaway. I highly recommend a facility called Gardenia Gardens. It's very well regarded.'

‘What is it?' James asked. ‘A mental hospital?'

‘Well, yes and no. It's more than that. It provides the patients with counselling, specialised treatment, behavioural therapy. I've heard positive things from people who have been there.'

‘And I don't have to have Sebastian with me?' Catriona asked in a flat voice, still staring at the ceiling.

‘No, they won't let you have your baby in this facility. It's important for your recovery to spend time with your baby, though.' He addressed James. ‘You'll need to bring him to visit your wife as often as possible. The attachment between mother and baby is very important in situations like this.'

Catriona rolled her head towards James and met his gaze. She saw him take a step backwards, away from her bed.

‘Don't leave him with me,' she said in a voice that didn't sound like her own.

She watched a lump make its way down James's throat before he looked away from her and gazed down at Sebastian.

‘I'll look after him,' he said, tightening his grip on their son. ‘You just concentrate on getting yourself better.'

When they arrived at the psychiatric clinic a doctor conducted an initial physical examination of Catriona. James tried to reassure her that the staff at the clinic were trying to help her get better, but she didn't believe him. She knew the blood and urine samples they took from her were to register her on a system so she wouldn't be allowed to have any more children. She knew they would monitor her for the rest of her life, tracking her whereabouts and preventing her from leaving the country. She remained mute throughout the examination and the psychological evaluation that followed, out of fear of what they would do to her if she didn't cooperate. She allowed James to answer the questions asked by the psychiatrist, a softly spoken older man with a well-groomed moustache and a slight hint of an English accent, while she watched Sebastian. He regarded her with a satisfied smile. Maybe this had been his plan all along. Maybe he wanted to get her out of the way so he could have James all to himself.