The Woman Before Me (29 page)

“Would you like one?” Miss Austin asked, offering the packet.

Janie unwrapped the sweet, thinking what a mess the office was. Piles of scrunched up paper, pens without lids, and the computer keyboard smeared with greasy fingerprints. “I’ll just wipe this for you, Miss.”

“I’m sorry, Janie. It’s a bit grubby.”

“Don’t say sorry to me, Miss. It’s my job.” Janie thought it was funny how some of the staff seemed to feel bad about letting her clean up their mess; maybe that was why they pretended she wasn’t there. But most staff took it as their right, and would tell her to dust the photos of their families with extra care.

The Governor was very particular about her polishing his desk with beeswax – no spray polish for him. She had to make sure she put the photo of his missus back just so, at the right corner of his leather blotter pad. It drove her nuts.

Miss Austin never made demands, but Janie wouldn’t have minded if she did. She was alright, and always asked Janie how she was doing when everyone else looked right through her.

Janie polished the keyboard, and then started to work on the desk, spying a pile of notes to her side. On its own in the out tray she recognised her friend’s name and sounded out the words in her head:

ROSE WILKS – PAROLE REPORT.

Janie started to cough and moved her hands to her throat. “My sweet!” she wheezed.

Miss Austin speedily banged her on the back, dislodging it, and Janie gasped, then coughed again. “I need a drink, Miss.”

“Of course – I’ll go get some.” Miss Austin dashed out of the room, rushing to the nearest drinks machine two locked doors away.

And, as cannily as that, Janie was alone in the room. Her reading lessons at the college were going okay, and she carefully mouthed the words, saying them as she read, until she’d got to the conclusion in Rose’s report.

Miss Austin wanted Rose’s parole application to be refused.

49

Black Book Entry

Something was wrong between Dominic and Emma. Dark thoughts kept coming to me, whispering that you were the cause. The text message I had found from you on Emma’s phone made me certain that you and she were lovers again.
I’ve bumped into him from time to time,
she’d said. It was months since she’d told me that her and Dominic were trying for a baby, nothing had yet happened. Had she decided to use your seed? I thought about the hair on her pillow, I knew it was yours.

Dominic was working long days at the school as it was examination time, so I only saw him occasionally. If he arrived home when I was still there I would make a swift exit, and I never called at weekends if his car was in the drive. Once he said, “here again, Rose? I should start charging you rent.”

He would look at Emma with longing, but she never returned the gaze. Even though I disliked Dominic, I understood him. His possessive love for Emma, his jealousy of Luke. The way he wanted to take her out without their son, have her to himself. Emma was desperate to go out too; to be free of a crying, smelly, demanding baby, and was pleased when he came home with theatre tickets, or suggested they try a new restaurant in town. I was always happy to babysit. Looking after Luke was what I lived for, and the further away Dominic took Emma the better.

It was in the hours when I had Luke to myself, that I was happiest. But it made me complacent and in the end it was my undoing.

Dominic had taken Emma to Southwold, even though it was a drizzly day. Southwold is a seaside town, but not like Felixstowe or Lowestoft. It’s a mix of expensive galleries and quaint teashops, really posh. Not my idea of the seaside, or a child’s, there are no donkey rides or ice cream stands.

As usual, I took my pushchair from the car and strapped Luke in it. I’d brought a couple of toys to attach to the pushchair and he clapped his hands when he saw them. I strode into Ipswich town centre. I was braver now, and had started to enter the main precinct. I didn’t know many people in the area; even working in the hotel in Felixstowe, I’d never tried to make friends. Once I met you, Jason, friends didn’t matter. We had only been together a short time when I fell pregnant and then, after Joel died, any neighbours who might have been friendly stayed away. So I’d stopped worrying that someone would see me and, even if they did, I would simply say I was babysitting for a friend.

I enjoyed being alone with Luke, being a mother again. I pushed the pram happily around shops, talking to him constantly, stopping to show him a toy or to hold an item of clothing against his small frame, checking for size. If I bought anything I’d use cash, as I didn’t want you to see children’s shops on our bank statement and become suspicious. I had learnt this after buying two nursing bras.

“What did you buy at Mothercare for £50?” you asked me one day.

I spoke quickly, turning away to hide my face. “Oh, a gift for Luke’s christening.”

You said that it was a lot of money to spend, what with me still not working, but carried on watching TV. I knew that I’d got away with it but I’d have to be more careful in future. As for the items I bought, I kept them in the nursery, a room that you never entered.

Luke and I whiled away a few hours, but then the rain began to fall, a fierce summer shower, and we took shelter in a café. He was getting restless, and I knew he was hungry, so I ordered myself a drink and took a seat in the corner where I could get some privacy. I kissed his head and settled him down to feed, a blanket discreetly draped over my shoulder. I glowed with the pride of motherhood.

I was happy. Despite losing Joel, despite feeling lonely in my own home, despite my fear of you betraying me, in that moment I was happy. Luke belonged to me. I fantasised about Emma and Dominic having some tragic but mercifully quick accident, so I could be with him always. So that we could be a family. After all, a boy needs his father.

The waitress, a bouncy girl with a pink headband and peroxide hair, fussed over him. “Aw, he’s gorgeous. What a handsome boy.” She slid her pen behind her ear and chucked him under the chin with her finger. “What’s his name?”

“Joel,” I said.

“He’s a beauty. Hello, Joel.”

He opened his mouth, looking around and mewling, as I began to unhook my nursing bra, she looked on admiringly. “Nothing like mother’s milk to settle them, is there? Now then, what can I get you?”

She was back in moments with my tea, cooed a little more, and then went to serve other customers.

If life has taught me one thing it is this: happiness is fleeting. If a moment arrives when you find joy, then don’t blink.

I didn’t even recognise her immediately. The hospital was so far away from my thoughts that I hadn’t even registered that I was near it. The bell over the door announced her arrival but I didn’t know it was Nurse Hall until I heard her voice, placing her order with the waitress. She was in uniform, and had a magazine, which she opened and began to read. Her hair was shorter, and a brighter red, but the purple eyeliner was the same. I remembered how she’d told me about Joel’s condition, how she’d taken us to see him that final time. She had always been so caring to me, and when Joel died she had held me, comforted me.

“Ah, bless him. He’s a hungry boy! Would you like anything else?” Damn that waitress, with her loud voice, taking my empty cup away so soon. I couldn’t risk speaking in case Nurse Hall heard me, so I shook my head. “I’ll just get you the bill then, shall I?”

It was now lunchtime, and all the seats were taken; yet people were still coming in from the rain, standing at the doorway and waiting. A few had spied my empty table, seeing that I would soon be ready to leave and were looking at me expectantly. I wondered if I could get out without being recognised. Luke was still feeding so I pulled my nipple away, and he cried out in protest.

Nurse Hall, primed for the cries of children, looked up. She saw me and the recognition was instant. Even in a job where sickness and death are not unusual, she hadn’t forgotten me. She immediately came over, “Rose!”

By the time she was at my side a dummy had pacified Luke, and my T-shirt had been quickly pulled down.

“Hi, Rose. It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

She put her hand lightly on my shoulder, her eyes intent on mine. There was genuine feeling in her voice that brought tightness to my throat.

“Doing okay, thanks.” Minimal words, minimal contact. I just wanted to be out from there.

“You look well.” Her eyes fell on Luke. “Hello, there. Is it a boy?”

I nodded. “His mother will be expecting us. We should be heading back.” I bundled him quickly into the pram, taking £10 from my purse, the only money I had, and putting it on the table. The dummy fell from his mouth and he began to cry, “hush. Good boy.” I adjusted his hat, and it slipped, revealing his distinctive golden curls.

Her eyes widened as the penny dropped, “isn’t that Emma Hatcher’s son?”

What could I say but yes?

She looked closer now, a professional interest for a baby she had seen being born. “He’s looking really well. Can I hold him?”

She gently lifted him away from me, examining his face with assessing eyes. She spoke to herself rather than me. “Hello, my lovely. Oh yes, you’re thriving, aren’t you? Good boy. What a beautiful smile.” As he gurgled he posited white-blue milk, thinner than formula, down his chin and down the front of her uniform. She laughed, picked up a napkin and wiped his face.

I was agitated. “I really should go, Nurse Hall. It’s nice to see you but Emma will be waiting.”

She handed Luke back, smiling, “I’m glad you look so happy, Rose. And it’s nice you’ve stayed friends with Mrs Hatcher. Please say hello from me.”

I tried to make it to the exit quickly, but chairs had to be moved and the waitress insisted on coming after me, “your change!”

“Keep it,” I said.

As I pushed past, the waitress put her head into the pram. “Are you happy now you’ve had some of mummy’s milk? Bless.” We were almost out of the shop as she called, “bye bye Joel!”

The waitress’ words knocked the wind out of me, and I stumbled as I stepped into the street. The rain was torrential but I was too distracted to think of shelter. I pushed the pram quickly down wet streets and back to Emma’s house, trying to calm myself. After all, what had happened that could not be explained away? I was babysitting, that was all. I was worrying about nothing. Nurse Hall had not seen anything that could arouse suspicion, and probably hadn’t even heard what the waitress said.

But the day was not on my side. When I arrived back I saw Dominic’s car in the drive. Emma would be wondering where I was, without her pram, which was still in the hall. Without the car seat, which was still under the stairs. But worst of all, the bottle of formula milk was still in the fridge where she had placed it five hours ago. How would I explain that?

50

I stood outside their front door, and heard the rumbling thunder of Dominic’s anger. He was arguing with Emma. It must be about me. They would have seen the pram standing in the hall, the formula milk untouched in the fridge.

Leaving the pram in my car, I knocked on the door with a fist forced against itself; my instinct was to flee. Dominic opened it.

“Where the hell have you been?”

He was red in the face, and his voice was booming. My heart palpitated, my chest too tight and I couldn’t speak as I carried Luke into the hallway. I busied myself in taking his jacket off. “He was restless, so I took him for a short walk.”

Dominic looked at the pram in the hallway.

“I carried him – we didn’t go far. I hope that’s okay. I think he needs changing.”

I wanted to escape from his scrutiny and started to head for the stairs but Dominic snatched the boy from me and took him up. I was left standing in the hall, wondering where Emma was.

I had to get rid of the bottle of formula milk in the fridge, or they would wonder why Luke wasn’t screaming with hunger. I could hear Dominic in the nursery, forced baby talk, and then the downstairs toilet flushed.

The door opened, and Emma came out. Her eyes were red from crying.

“Rose! We’ve been back ages. Where’s Luke?”

Hearing her Dominic yelled, “up here having his nappy changed.”

She hurried past me and up the stairs.

They began to bicker.

“I’ll do it, Dominic.”

“Gently, Emma. For God’s sake!”

There was a muffled sound and then Emma said, “you’ll upset Luke. There’s no need…”

“Isn’t there? I think I’ve got every right to shout if I fucking well…”

My heart was racing, every muscle made me ready to run. I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and took the bottle out. I quickly unscrewed the teat and tipped the milk away down the sink. A quick rinse and into the dishwasher.

I heard Emma’s voice. Louder now, frustrated, “you’ve got it all wrong.”

Luke started to cry and his parent’s voices rose.

“Well, I’m upset too, Emma. What do you expect?”

“You’ve got the wrong idea. I would never be unfaithful…”

I stumbled, reaching the door jamb for support. So that was the argument – it wasn’t about me at all. An opened bottle of red wine stood on the work-top and I poured the wine into a tumbler, knocking it back, and refilling it to the brim, listening to the conversation above me.

“So what about those messages on your mobile? How do you explain that?”

“He just keeps calling me, but I’ve told him I’m not interested. He just won’t take no for an answer.”

I froze. She was talking about you.

I went to the hall to listen to the conversation going on above my head.

Emma was pleading with Dominic. “Please, you don’t need to… please Dominic…”

I heard footsteps along the hall and Dominic’s voice was unsteady with controlled anger. “I’m going to stay at the school for a few days.”

I could hear Emma getting hysterical, her voice shrill above Luke’s crying. “Why? You don’t need to stay away. I haven’t done anything, Dominic. I’d never be unfaithful to you.”