The Missing Wife Page 3

  ‘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.

  ‘I could see how badly this lack of sleep was affecting you. I’ve been talking to Tiff, asking her advice really, and together we thought this would at least give you a bit of a break …’

  Louisa sank back in the chair. Had their messaging and the hushed conversations all been about arranging one night away from her baby? Louisa’s face flushed. Shit. She’d practically accused Tiff of having an affair with her husband. As well as hallucinations, she could now tick paranoia off the sleep deprivation checklist.

  ‘But it’s a pub, Brian. I won’t sleep with all the noise.’

  ‘The rooms are in a converted barn adjacent to the pub so it should be fine. Even if you don’t get to sleep until midnight, you could still get seven, eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. It’ll be far better than what you’ve been getting.’

  Louisa contemplated it. It wasn’t as if her parents could take Noah, like they used to Emily. They were too old now: her mother too fragile, her dad clueless – plus, she hadn’t even spoken to them for weeks, their relationship remaining strained. Even when they’d looked after Emily, Louisa had always felt it’d been something they’d done out of duty rather than love. Each time her mum agreed to take Emily it was a decision edged with bitterness.

  Louisa’s rocky relationship with them, her mother in particular, was a hangover from her teenage years – she’d often been told how she’d been challenging, that her erratic behaviour when she was at college had caused no end of worry. Louisa had spent a long time wishing she could’ve gone away to a college further afield, rather than to the closest one. But commuting daily to Exeter was simpler and it wasn’t as though she had much choice anyway. It wasn’t like going off to uni, where it was expected you live away from home. She was only doing A levels and none of her friends had their own digs; all of them lived at home too, so she couldn’t even crash at anyone else’s. Things might have been very different if that had been a possibility.

  Considering her lack of options, Brian’s offer may well be her only opportunity to have some time out. One night couldn’t hurt. And she really needed sleep if the last few days, and particularly last night, were anything to go by.

  ‘Thank you.’ She gave a grateful smile.

  ‘Good. That’s settled then.’ Brian got up and moved to the worktop where his mobile was. He unplugged it from its charger and was immediately immersed in texting. Tiff, she presumed.

  ‘We got any Coco Pops?’ Emily breezed into the kitchen. No ‘good morning’, no eye contact.

  ‘Unless you’ve eaten them all, then yes – in the larder.’

  Emily huffed and sloped over to the larder, pulling the yellow box from the top shelf. Louisa watched as her handbag banged back against the door as Emily went to close it. She must remember to take the bag with her secret stash of cigarettes inside to Court Farm later. She’d also take her tablets from the drawer. While one night away from Noah might be beneficial, she had a feeling she’d need more help than that to sleep well.

  7

  THE DECOY

  Friday p.m.

  Tiff’s car – a volcano-red Audi A8, so she’d informed Louisa when she’d bought it brand new – drew up outside at smack on five. Louisa watched from the window as Tiff got out, perfectly dressed as usual, her Ray-Ban sunglasses on, despite the March weather being quite dull. Louisa looked down at her own ensemble: the same jeans she’d been wearing all week and a plain black baggy T-shirt. She should’ve made more effort, but then again, it was meant to be a relaxing night away so it didn’t really matter what she wore.

  Brian had come home from work early and taken Noah out for a walk – Emily begrudgingly went with them. Louisa had said her goodbyes. In her head, she repeated, It’s only one night. She knew it could only do her good.

  She’d made sure her cigarettes and tablets were in her bag – she’d already taken two tablets that morning as a precaution, knowing her anxiety levels would be increasing. Checking the freezer, she noted there was a good stack of frozen milk, even more than she’d thought. How had she pumped off that much? As far as she could tell, her milk production had slowed to the degree she was considering supplementing Noah with formula. At least she didn’t have to worry about him going hungry. The bottles were freshly sterilised. All was taken care of. She popped two more tablets out of the aluminium pack, swallowed them without water, and threw the packet back into her handbag as she thrust it over her shoulder and walked towards the front door.

  ‘Hi, hun! You not ready yet?’ Tiff said as she embraced Louisa, then stood back to take in her appearance.

  ‘Er … yes. I didn’t see the point in dressing up,’ Louisa said.

  ‘No, no I guess not. Have you packed anything else?’ Tiff’s frown said it all.

  ‘I’ve got another T-shirt.’ Louisa held up the small overnight bag she’d found in the back of the wardrobe and that she’d stuffed with minimal supplies.

  ‘Why don’t you pop upstairs and grab something nice for later – a dress or something.’

  ‘For later? I was planning on sleeping later, Tiff.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Of course. I thought I’d treat you to a nice dinner though, before you bed down for the night. You’re looking pasty lately, like you’re in need of a good meal. And you know, a drink or two, which I’m sure will help you settle quicker.’ She smiled.

  Louisa knew it was futile to argue so she bounded up the stairs, pulled her old faithful off the hanger – a flower-print jersey dress – and shoved it inside her bag. She grabbed her make-up bag too. Pasty. She would make a small effort, just to get Tiff off her back.

  ‘Right, let’s go!’ Tiff was out of the door before Louisa could say anything.

  The room was small but adequate. Louisa had often been to the restaurant and bar at Court Farm but living so close meant there’d never been a need to stay. It felt weird to be sleeping away from home when it was only two miles away. She really hoped she felt better after tonight; Brian would be so disappointed if his plan didn’t work, but Louisa knew that she’d need far more than one night for a difference to be made.

  A knock interrupted her thoughts. Louisa opened the door to Tiff.

  ‘My plan is that you shower now, dress up, slap on some war paint and we hit the bar in an hour. Sound good?’

  ‘Well, I guess.’ Anxiety coursed through her body l
ike a rapidly spreading virus. It seemed a lot to do in an hour, and the double bed with its fluffy pillows and crisp, clean bed linen looked really inviting.

  ‘I’ll go and get some wine. It’ll be like old times, getting ready to go out.’ Tiff’s enthusiasm made Louisa smile in spite of her misgivings. When they’d first been friends, Tiff regularly dragged Louisa out on a Friday night – not clubbing, those times were long gone – but they’d go into Newton, traipse from one pub to another, Tiff drinking more than was sensible, and they’d have a good laugh. It was the time getting ready at Tiff’s house that used to make Louisa’s night. She always went to Tiff’s because there, Louisa had no one making any demands on her: she could avoid Emily’s bedtime and leave the calming-down period and story-telling to Brian, so it was more fun. She’d have been fine with just that, not even bothering to go out. Louisa wasn’t much of a drinker, not since her college days. She’d allow Tiff to get her a drink now, though. One wouldn’t hurt, and it wasn’t as though she had to feed Noah.

  ‘Okay. I’d better jump in the shower then.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Tiff said as she did a dramatic twirl and left the room. Louisa took out the dress she’d squashed into her bag, brushing it down and hoping the creases wouldn’t be too visible once it was on her. This could be just what she needed – a shower in complete peace, a few hours of being ‘normal’, a nice meal, a good natter and an entire night of undisturbed sleep. Just in case though, she would take a couple more of the pills. She didn’t want to waste the opportunity of getting rest by lying awake all night worrying. Her mind always came alive the second her head hit the pillow, so it was worth having a back-up. She swallowed the capsules with water from the tap and went into the bathroom.

  Tiff had convinced Louisa to have two glasses of wine while they were getting ready, and her head now felt woozy. She should’ve waited to eat before having the second. They made their way out of the accommodation building, which, just as Brian had told her, was adjacent to the pub. Tiff had her head down, busy texting. Louisa prickled, irritated that Tiff couldn’t stay off her mobile for even a few hours. Louisa shook her head. She hoped tonight wasn’t a mistake. Shuffling along behind Tiff, who was now quite forcibly pushing through some people standing at the bar, Louisa kept her head lowered. An uncomfortable sensation rippled through her; she didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone, suddenly feeling exposed – everyone staring at her.

  ‘We’ve got a table in the upstairs room,’ Tiff said, finally turning to face Louisa and ushering her up the stairs first. Louisa was glad to be escaping the busy, noisy bar area to the more subdued upstairs. She stumbled on the steps, grabbing the rail to regain her balance. Two wines mixed with the tablets was clearly not the best of ideas.

  Nearing the top of the stairs, Louisa’s chest tightened. Tied to the bannister, floating ominously, were a couple of Happy 40th Birthday balloons. Her feet refused to move forward, but Tiff nudged her on.

  ‘Go on, it’s all right,’ she coaxed.

  The room, which a moment ago was quiet, erupted into a frenzied noise of singing.

  Oh, God no.

  Her eyes darted around, her brain attempting to put it all together. What the hell? Her birthday wasn’t for another two weeks so this must be for someone else. As the out-of-tune rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ continued, Louisa noticed that balloons displaying the big 4-0 adorned every table. The room was filled with people she didn’t recognise, who all appeared to be clapping and cheering for her. The dizziness returned, threatening to cause her legs to give. Her eyes settled on Brian, who was smiling, standing with Noah in his arms at the front of the gathering. Noah wasn’t crying. Even Emily, standing at Brian’s side, was smiling.

  ‘Surprised? I wanted to make sure you did something special for your fortieth.’ Brian grinned. Louisa’s mouth opened, but no words would form. She couldn’t fathom why he would have thought this was a good idea in her current state. She had a strong urge to turn around and run back down the stairs, but more people came up behind her, blocking her route. Fleeing didn’t appear to be an option.

  This was the worst thing that could’ve happened. What about her relaxing night, the one where she was meant to sleep? A hot ball of irritation burned in the pit of her stomach. This was not a happy surprise but now that she’d been forced into the situation, and quite clearly couldn’t get out of it, Louisa lifted her chin, put her shoulders back and made her way properly into the guest-filled room. After a few hellos and polite thank you for coming statements, Louisa sat at the table nearest the window. If she didn’t sit, she’d collapse. The throng of voices blurred into the background as Louisa stared outside. More people were coming. Surely not for her? How many people did Brian invite? She didn’t even know this many people.

  She felt a hand on her knee.

  ‘I know I tricked you into this, but I really thought … well, we really thought it would do you good. I’m still taking Noah home with Emily after the meal.’ He bounced Noah gently in one arm, but it appeared as though there was no need – the baby was content and settled. ‘So you’ll still have time to yourself.’ His eyes sought hers for approval. She attempted a smile, hoping it looked grateful rather than stabby, which was how she was really feeling.

  ‘How did you arrange this?’

  ‘With Tiff’s help, of course. The night away with Tiff was the perfect decoy. It got you here, ready for the surprise to be sprung on you.’ He sounded so chuffed with himself – and granted, he’d actually done a good job keeping it from her. It seemed he was better at keeping secrets than she’d given him credit for. Part of her was relieved that the party was the reason for his constant texting, his sneaky behaviour. Another part, though, couldn’t shake the foreboding sensation deep in her gut.

  ‘Tiff helped? What’s she done – invited all her friends?’ Louisa gave a quick sweeping glance of the room trying to pinpoint some people she actually knew.

  ‘No, silly.’ He gave her a hug, kissing the top of her head. Thank God Tiff had convinced her to shower and wash her hair. ‘She went through your friends list.’

  ‘My what?’ Louisa’s jaw slackened.

  ‘Your Facebook friends – she said she knew your password as she’d set your profile up and you’d never changed it. Sorry – I thought it would be okay if she did it. She even managed to track down your old college buddies thanks to an invite you’d had to join the alumni. Took her ages – she’s pretty amazing at all this organising stuff, isn’t she?’ He beamed.

  The blood in Louisa’s veins cooled, an icy sensation creeping underneath her skin.

  She shook her head, unable to formulate the right words. She wanted to scream but, instead, a numbness took over.

  ‘It wasn’t easy – you’ve never talked about any of them despite me digging over the years – but we thought it would be the ideal time to do some catching up. A reunion of sorts. What better time than this milestone?’

  Her breathing shallowed; the room closed in on her. There would never have been a good time for that.

  She had to escape this room full of strangers. Because that’s what they were, in effect. None of them really knew her. She silently prayed that none of those on the Exeter College list would turn up. Surely after twenty-two years none of them would even remember who she was? She’d left after her A levels while the majority of her friends had gone on to university, scattering far and wide across the country. Louisa hadn’t kept in contact with anyone. They wouldn’t bother to come to her fortieth when they’d not set eyes on her for all that time. The thought of it even being a possibility, though, set her nerves on edge. Grabbing her handbag, and without looking at Brian, she got up.

  As Louisa pushed through the people, she heard multiple ‘happy birthdays’ and her name being spoken, arms reaching out and hands touching her. Muttering her thanks, she quickly moved on, her eyes focused on the stairs. As she reached them she bumped into someone coming the other way.

  ‘Long time, no
see,’ the smooth, deep voice said. A voice that caused tiny electric shocks to spread inside her body. Her prayer hadn’t been answered.

  Louisa was paralysed to the spot.

  She hadn’t seen him since 1997, but his face was instantly familiar.

  Oliver.

  8

  THE GUEST

  Friday p.m.

  After what felt like five minutes of silently staring, Louisa’s brain kicked in, her feet finally moving. Without being able to speak, she pushed past Oliver and the unknown woman by his side and, with as much composure as she could muster, descended the stairs. Tiff’s blonde hair was visible above the group of punters congregating at the bar, and as Louisa struggled to get to the exit, she heard Tiff shout to her.

  ‘Where are you off to?’

  Louisa shoved through more people, anger propelling her towards Tiff. Without daring to speak, she snatched one of the glasses of wine off the round tray Tiff held in her hands and knocked back the bitter-tasting liquid in one, before continuing towards the door leading out to the beer garden.

  Whatever good intentions Tiff believed she had in going through her Facebook friends list, she shouldn’t have done it. Going one step further than that and accepting the group invitation to join Exeter College leavers on her behalf was just wrong. It wasn’t Tiff’s place to decide what group of friends she should be involved with. And inviting Oliver? Jesus.

  Finding a quiet corner of the garden, away from prying eyes, Louisa unzipped her bag and took out the pack of cigarettes. Her head swam, as it usually did with the first few draws. It was worse now though – she had too much alcohol in her system, as well as the tablets. Likely a dangerous mix, but no more dangerous than the mix of people in that room.

  ‘Are you mad at me?’

  She turned sharply at the sound of the voice. Tiff approached Louisa with another glass of wine in her outstretched hand. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘This might take the edge off the shock.’