Sam Carrington - The Missing Wife

What that event might have been had plagued her. But the more she’d tried to remember, the worse it got. She’d continued to see a specialist for six months after she left college and, in addition to being prescribed medication, she’d learned techniques on how to manage her episodes of anxiety. The sessions had also aimed to help her recall what had triggered her attacks, but when none of the missing memories resurfaced despite the therapy, she stopped going. Once she’d met Brian she’d pushed her fears, along with the desire to find out and to recapture those memories, to the back of her mind. It was only recently, after Noah, that the old issues had come creeping back.

Louisa took a steadying breath and tried to consider it rationally. Last night she’d been really drunk – that mixed with no sleep and anxiety pills had more than likely caused her lack of recall.

But the vision of blood had come from somewhere, and the question of whether it was from the supposed traumatic experience in her past or from something that had happened last night filled Louisa with a sense of foreboding.

‘Earth to Louisa!’

Louisa started. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts she’d forgotten Tiff was even there. ‘Sorry.’ Louisa grabbed her bag from beside her on the bed and jumped up. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ She ushered Tiff out the door first, then turned and closed it behind her. The resounding click was satisfying. Louisa hoped the events of the night, whatever they were, remained locked inside that room. She just wanted to go home and forget all about it.

Tiff had booked them a taxi home – she’d quite rightly assumed she’d still be over the limit to drive. It was an uncomfortable journey and Louisa was grateful it was only a short distance. She didn’t want to puke in the taxi.

‘Are you coming in?’ Louisa asked as the driver stopped in front of her house.

‘Looking like this?’ Tiff made a circular motion around her face with her finger. ‘Er, no. I’ll ring you later.’

Louisa could’ve done with the back-up. What if she’d behaved badly last night? Brian might be mad at her. And if Tiff hadn’t ‘kept track’ of her, that must mean she hadn’t been in the main room with the others. She hesitated on the doorstep, a sense of dread debilitating any progress. Noah’s crying breached the door. One night away really hadn’t been enough. She could turn around now, leave and never return.

The naivety of her own thoughts irritated her. She couldn’t run away. Aside from not wanting to hurt her family, she didn’t even know what she’d be running from .

She pushed the front door open and walked through the hallway to find Brian pacing the lounge, Noah wailing uncontrollably in his arms.

‘Oh, good!’ he shouted above the noise. ‘I wasn’t sure what else I could do.’

The screaming was already splitting her head.

‘Has he had the whole bottle?’ She moved gingerly forwards.

‘Yes, two, actually.’

‘Oh. Well I expect it’s wind then if he’s had that much.’

‘It is two o’clock, Lou – he would’ve usually had two feeds by now, wouldn’t he?’

Yes. Of course he would’ve. Louisa had forgotten the time.

‘Pass him to me.’ Louisa took Noah from Brian and placed him over her shoulder and began jiggling him about. She looked into Brian’s eyes, trying to gauge his mood.

‘Are you still mad at me?’ he said.

‘I didn’t realise I was mad at you to start with.’ She frowned.

Brian lowered his head. ‘Tiff reckons you were just overwhelmed by it all but I saw something else in your eyes when you shouted at me – that I’d made a huge mistake throwing a party.’

Louisa swallowed hard. Another part of the night she didn’t remember. She was scared to ask what exactly he thought he’d seen in her eyes. Noah had quietened down despite his awkward position – his top half slumped over her shoulder so all she could see was his bottom and legs – and she swayed gently to keep him that way.

‘I was overwhelmed, yes. If it’d been people I knew well, I might’ve coped. But all those, well, strangers . It was a little much. Sorry if I came across as ungrateful, though. I know you and Tiff had the best intentions. And I certainly slept well.’

‘Yeah, I guess that was the goal really. That’s why I tried not to take it to heart.’

‘Take what to heart?’ The pulse in her neck was no doubt perceptible; what else had she said and done?

‘When you left early. One minute you were saying all you needed was fresh air, then you disappeared without even saying anything to the guests. Or us. Emily was pretty put out. But I explained that you were exhausted, and the party had taken it out of you. That you needed undisturbed sleep more than a surprise fortieth. Which, of course, was what Emily had said to start with. Sorry, I should’ve listened to our daughter.’

‘I’m sorry. Everyone must’ve thought me so rude.’ Her mind was dazed, confused at this new information. ‘Did you come by my room? Check up on me?’

‘No. I thought it best to leave you alone. And anyway, Oliver said he’d seen you going into the accommodation entrance, so I knew you were all right.’

‘Oliver saw me? Did he speak to you then?’

‘Yeah. Nice guy actually. We chatted for ages after you’d gone.’

Great, her ex-boyfriend and her husband getting buddy-buddy. That wasn’t what Louisa needed to hear.

‘Really? I take it he didn’t happen to mention we dated back in college then.’ Louisa thought that would produce shock from Brian – even though it was years ago, she imagined he’d feel curious about an ex showing up, maybe even a bit jealous – but his expression didn’t waver.

‘Yeah, he did say, but he brushed over it really – it was more in passing than anything. I don’t remember you ever mentioning him, so I guess you didn’t date for long, that it wasn’t anything serious?’

It was a loaded question. If she said, ‘no, not long, not serious,’ Brian would wonder why Oliver had been bothered enough to attend her party. On the other hand, if she said, ‘two years, and quite serious,’ he’d probe further – want to know more details about their relationship. Oliver’s motive for turning up to her fortieth birthday would also be more thoroughly scrutinised. Louisa decided it was best to do what Oliver had obviously done – brush over it.

‘We were teenagers, having a wild time at college – you know what it was like back then. How long or serious was any relationship? It was so long ago I can barely remember.’ Louisa wiped the beads of sweat from her top lip then quickly repositioned Noah, lowering him from her shoulder and nestling her face into his.

‘True,’ Brian said, not appearing to notice her discomfort, ‘and he didn’t seem the type to hold on to the past or be someone who’d never got over his first love.’ Brian laughed. Louisa almost asked what he did consider Oliver’s ‘type’ to be, and how he could tell from one conversation. She thought better of it, instead shining the spotlight elsewhere.

‘What about his wife – what was she like?’

Brian shrugged. ‘Wife? He didn’t mention a wife.’

‘Well, she was with him. At the party.’

‘Didn’t see him with anyone. Well, not in a couple-type way. He was talking to lots of people. Seemed to take a shine to Tiff …’

Who didn’t, Louisa thought. In her hungover state, the complexities of the evening were too much to decipher. As Noah was quiet, Louisa thought she’d take the opportunity to lie down with him. If she had a nap, things would be clearer afterwards. For the moment, Louisa had no idea what on earth had happened at her party.