Samantha Lee Howe - The Stranger in Our Bed

‘Your husband is collecting you today,’ she said with a smile. ‘I expect you’ll be glad to go home.’

I felt a rush of relief as my phobia abated. I stood up, bumping the table and the book fell to the floor. I bent to retrieve it. My palms felt suddenly sticky, as another odd feeling took over, something akin to agoraphobia. The hospital room had become a buffer to my ordinary life. Now I’d have to return to it, and to Tom and especially to Isadora.

‘Perhaps I should stay on another day …’ I said with a shaky laugh.

‘Yes,’ she laughed too, but it sounded forced. ‘It’s a bit like living in a five-star hotel this place, isn’t it?’

I wasn’t sure I agreed, but knew that this hospital had every luxury a private hospital could have.

Tom arrived with his chauffeur, Stefan, and I was pushed out to the limo in a wheelchair, even though I told them I was fine to walk.

‘Stop being stubborn,’ Tom said. ‘We’re looking after you. You deserve it.’

The idea of further argument exhausted me and I fell silent and let them help me into the back of the car as if I was an invalid.

‘How’s your head feeling?’ Tom asked once we were both in the limo.

‘I’m fine. Really. Please don’t worry.’

He took my hand and kissed my fingers. ‘I’m so glad we can finally take you home. I’ve been so worried about you.’

Isadora had hired a home help, a young Polish girl to help clean and do all of the cooking for me. I was not to do anything until I was fully recovered.

‘And anyway,’ she said, ‘I never understood why you wanted to clean your own house. It ruins your fingernails and spoils your hands.’

‘I like cleaning,’ I said. ‘It’s part of my fitness regime.’

‘Well, there’s none of that nonsense for now,’ said Isadora. ‘After the baby comes … well there will be plenty of time to get back into shape. I’ll find you a trainer when the time is right.’

She didn’t see me roll my eyes.

I was dreaming of swimming, gliding serenely through a warm lake. The shore ahead, the aqua blue sky reflected above. Then I felt that first fatal cramp. The pain struck so deeply through my core – a white hot pain. Sheer agony, as the dream faded and changed. I was drowning now, my limbs like lead, holding me down as I sank like a heavy rock to the bottom of the ocean.

‘Char … Char, wake up!’

I opened my eyes. Tom was staring into my face with a look of concern.

‘It was just a nightmare,’ I said.

‘You were crying out.’

He sat up, moved away, and I pulled myself into a sitting position. Then, thinking I needed the bathroom, I pushed back the covers. The white sheets glared red. The whole lower half of my body was covered in blood. I tried to calm my breathing, but the room began to spin as I realized what this macabre sight might mean.

‘Oh my god!’ Tom said.

I was vaguely aware of him rushing across the room and picking up his phone. Swearing as he pressed three numbers.

‘I need an ambulance,’ he said.

***

I was bundled onto a trolley after they mopped up the mess. I knew without looking that the mattress had to be ruined, just as the white bedding most certainly was. Just as my life was. It crossed my mind that the purple satin set wouldn’t have shown the damage so boldly. And then it occurred to me that this was a strange moment to think of that bedding. I should instead have been thinking about my baby.

Much to the excitement of our neighbours, I was wheeled into the back of the ambulance.

‘I’ll follow in my car,’ said Tom, as they hooked me up to an IV and placed monitors on my heart.

When they closed the doors on him, to continue their work in peace, one of the paramedics, a woman with kind eyes, said, ‘It’s already too late. I’m afraid the baby is gone. Normally we wouldn’t take you in for that. But your husband is very concerned about you due to your accident.’

I closed my eyes and felt tears running down my face. I didn’t know why. Was it sadness for the loss of this tiny, yet unformed thing inside me? Or was it relief?

‘The pregnancy may not have been viable to begin with,’ the doctor said. ‘It happens sometimes with a first one. Like a trial run.’

‘But the accident?’ Tom said.

Why oh why did he keep labouring this? Didn’t he realize I felt bad enough?

‘I doubt it was responsible, but it’s possible. Most pregnancies are robust. They can withstand all sorts of trauma. That’s how the human race has survived through the worst periods of our history. Your wife will be fine. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t have another healthy pregnancy in a few months’ time. But for now, I think she needs rest.’

I lay in the bed, Isadora holding my hand, as these two men talked about me as though I wasn’t present, or capable of understanding anything. But it was only later, when I realized things had to change or else I would lose my sanity, that I looked back and remembered all of this with clarity.

Tom and I had been married ten years and for most of that time I couldn’t imagine my life turning out any better. I’d been orphaned when I was sixteen. It had been hard for me financially and emotionally. I’d had to be independent and strong, but all I’d ever wanted was to be safe and secure. Tom gave that to me. I was grateful, and I felt privileged too. I never wanted this amazing life he offered to change me. But it did despite my best efforts.

We never discussed the fact that I had, effectively, squandered the amazing opportunity I’d had in getting into Oxford. Nor that I had gained a first – and Tom a 2:1. For Tom, such a privilege was a given and he could have worked harder, he just didn’t need to. But that wasn’t the way he was with the firm. No, that was his real obsession. His life – above all else, even me – was about running the company. As for me, I didn’t mind someone taking care of me for a change. Tom gave me more security than I’d had in years and it was a relief to no longer worry that I might not be able to pay the rent, or buy food that week.

You can only appreciate having money when you’ve truly had none. For years I’d been completely broke. And, when you’ve seen life from both ends of the spectrum, you also know which side your bread is buttered.

You see, I knew my life wasn’t perfect, but I accepted it.

Sometimes I was bored. Oh, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful, but at times I had to recognize how my intelligence had been wasted. It frustrated me. I tried to do what the other wives did: lunches, charity benefits, hair and beauty appointments and the obligatory gym membership. We, as the wives of men such as Tom, had to keep our figures and looks regardless of anything else.

I had friends of course. Some I genuinely liked, but none had carried over from the old days. When I took my certificate on graduation day and then didn’t accept that all-important job offer, I dropped off everyone’s radar. Instead Tom and I went on a cruise. Looking back on it now, I realized that my life was mapped out from the day I met him.

I had been lucky in many ways. The Carlisles were snobs, and they valued my education as much as my looks, thankfully, and this, I suppose, allowed them to ignore my humble beginnings. Isadora groomed me. Smoothing away any final rough edges, teaching me the ways of the corporate wife and all the duties it entailed. It was like marrying into royalty, only marginally less public.

Our wedding was featured in a top business magazine and was full of embellishments about Tom’s business acumen – all important for the shareholders to see. My only embellishment was the most expensive designer dress Isadora could find. And my looks. My looks were, I think, the most important of all. The wedding took place at Isadora and Conrad’s manor house in Surrey. A beautiful old and huge building that sat in several acres of land and had been passed down through generations of Carlisles.