The Child Next Door

‘Yes, but—’

‘No buts. No excuses. Dom is her father and he’s perfectly capable of looking after his daughter for a few hours without you. Unlike my pathetic excuse for a husband, who wouldn’t know a nappy from a pillowcase.’

I manage a small smile at this. She’s right – Chris is a self-centred idiot who’s more concerned with the cut of his suit than the wellbeing of his family. I’m lucky to have Dominic.

‘I’m actually not taking no for an answer,’ she continues. ‘You haven’t been out for months. We planned this ages ago, Kirst. The taxi will be at my house at seven and you will be there… Look, I’ve got to pick James and Katie up from nursery now, but I’ll see you later, yes?’ She arches an eyebrow.

I don’t reply. Don’t catch her eye.

‘Yes?’ she repeats.

I don’t know what to say. She’ll only carry on giving me a hard time if I refuse. ‘Okay,’ I reply, wondering if I can get away with cancelling later, at the last minute.

‘Good girl. Wear something saucy. It’ll make you feel better.’

‘How long have you known me, Mel? I don’t do “saucy”.’

‘Well, you should.’ She glares at me, laughs and heads back out into the hall. ‘And open some of the upstairs windows too!’ she calls out before leaving, pulling the front door behind her with a bang that reverberates throughout the house.

I cringe and hold my breath, listening. Sure enough, a couple of seconds later, a short cry comes through the baby monitor followed by a sustained wail that I can’t ignore.

‘Thanks, Mel,’ I mutter before heading back upstairs.

Halfway up, I pause. I can’t go up there with all these windows and doors still open downstairs. I turn back and make my way into the kitchen. Daisy’s cries are tugging at my heart, but the need to secure my house is stronger. There are child abductors out there. They could come back at any time. I begin with the back doors – pulling them closed with a satisfying thunk. Next I close and lock all the downstairs windows, hoping Mel doesn’t glance over from her house and see what I’ve done.

Once I’m satisfied the rooms are all secure, I realise that my hands are shaking, my breathing erratic, ragged and shallow. Daisy’s cries have gone from demanding come-and-get-me-mummy cries to piercing, furious screams. How could I have left her to cry for so long? I think there might be something wrong with me. Or maybe I’m just tired. Whatever it is, I don’t feel like myself. Not at all.



* * *



At 5.30 p.m. I’m crouched on the kitchen floor loading dirty washing into the machine when my phone pings. I close the machine door, straighten up and snatch my phone off the kitchen table. It’s a text from Mel:

Hey gorgeous. Hope you’re getting ready. Don’t even think about sending me a cancellation text.





I sigh. How did she know? I should just tell her straight that I’m not going. But I can’t bring myself to face her judgement. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it will do me good to get out of the house. To shake away the unease that has gripped my body all day. Before having Daisy, I loved to go out with my friends, I was almost as outgoing as Mel. But after my second miscarriage, I became less sociable, more subdued. I couldn’t bear the thought of people asking me about my pregnancies, or if I was okay, or when Dom and I were going to start trying for a family. All the questions and sympathetic looks were exhausting. So I found it easier to retreat into my cocoon. And somehow, despite my joy at having Daisy, those feelings of insecurity have remained.

Mel’s text message pulses accusingly on my phone screen. I chew my bottom lip. If I stay home tonight, I’ll only sit here worrying. Maybe a night out will take my mind off things. Taking a breath, I text her three emojis: a smiley face, a wine glass and a girl dancing.

I spend the next forty-five minutes bathing and feeding Daisy so she’ll be ready for bed when Dominic gets home from work. As I hold her, staring out the bedroom window, I realise Dominic is late. With a rush of hope, I wonder if he might have had to stay on at the office. That would solve my problems. I could then apologise to Mel and say it was out of my control. She wouldn’t be able to argue with that.

Almost as soon as I have that thought, my heart drops as I see Dom’s Audi turn into the cul-de-sac. I watch him park in the driveway and walk up the path. Hear the click of his key in the door. Usually I’m excited to see him. Now, I feel the dark swell of anxiety in my chest.

‘Hey, Kirst, it’s me!’

‘Hi!’ I call from upstairs, injecting fake happiness into my voice.

I hear his footfalls on the stairs, and then he comes into the bedroom, loosening his tie as he walks towards us. ‘Hey, I missed you both today.’

‘Missed you too.’ We kiss and he takes Daisy from my arms.

‘It’s boiling in here. Don’t tell me you’ve had the windows closed all day.’

‘Course not.’ I stiffen as he sets about opening the windows with his free hand. ‘You’ll lock them all up again before going to bed, won’t you?’ I ask. ‘Those people could come back at any time. They could try to break in. And you’ll keep Daisy with you all—’

‘Relax. I will guard her with my life. She’s my daughter too, Kirst.’

‘Sorry, I know. It’s just… I worry.’

‘Noooo. Really?’

I give him a light shove.

‘Sorry I’m a bit late tonight. Roads were stupidly busy for some reason.’ Dominic lifts Daisy up into the air, then swoops her back down before blowing raspberries onto her stomach. She shrieks with laughter.

‘You might not want to swing her up and down like that,’ I warn. ‘I’ve just fed her. She’ll throw up all over you if you’re not careful.’

‘We don’t mind,’ Dom says in a daft voice. ‘We just want Mummy to ignore us and get ready for her big night out, don’t we, Daisy? Yes we do.’ He blows another raspberry on her tummy and I can’t help laughing this time.

Things already seem better now Dominic’s home. That hollow, jittery feeling is receding. Maybe I’ll even enjoy tonight.





Seven





The little Wimborne restaurant is packed for a Thursday night, ringing with the clink of glasses and the scrape of silverware, the chatter and laughter of people enjoying themselves. Our glamorous group of women takes up one long table down the side. I didn’t realise there would be so many of us here tonight. We all went to the same school, the majority of us in the same year. It’s lovely to see everyone again, to be my old self. I feel like I’ve been out of the loop for ages, even though it’s only been six months since I had Daisy.

My heart sinks as someone else arrives late, her sleek, auburn bob swinging as she sits opposite me and lays her purse by her feet. She turns to talk to Pia, who’s sitting on her left.

I elbow Mel. ‘You didn’t tell me Tamsin Price would be coming,’ I hiss.

‘That’s because I knew you wouldn’t come if I said anything.’

‘Too bloody right. Anyway, I thought she was living in Surrey now. Has she come back just for tonight?’

‘No,’ Mel says sheepishly. ‘She moved back to Wimborne this year.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me she was back?’ She’s the last person I expected to see here tonight. Back when we were in our late teens, Tamsin tried to steal Dominic away from me. They had a drunken one night stand, after which she pretended to be pregnant. It took Dom over six months to win me back, but now the sight of Tamsin Price has brought all those ancient feelings rushing back.

‘Just ignore her,’ Mel says under her breath.

‘That’s a bit hard when she’s sitting right opposite me.’

Mel screws up her face in sympathy. ‘I know. Of all the places she could sit, that’s pretty bad luck.’

‘Swap places with me?’

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