Sam Carrington - The Missing Wife

But something felt off.

Lovely to celebrate your milestone birthday with you last night. Being with you brought back so many memories. Can we meet? I need to see you. Something happened. Oliver xx

Louisa was sitting on the double bed, her back against the headboard and Noah asleep on a pillow on her lap. She stared at her phone in her hand. She’d reread the Facebook message several times since opening it an hour ago, each time attaching a different meaning to it.

The worst of those meanings was that she had gone back to her room, as Brian had told her, and Oliver had followed her in and they’d slept together.

Louisa prayed that was the worst-case scenario – and the wrong one. But what other meaning could ‘ something happened ’ possibly have?

Why the hell had Brian taken her ex-boyfriend’s word that she’d made it safely into the accommodation building? Granted it was only yards from the pub, but still. She was clearly drunk; she’d have expected Brian to check up on her himself, not to take some bloke’s word for it. Someone he’d only just met. This was his fault.

But whosever fault it was, Oliver’s words now glared at her accusingly.

Delete it. Don’t respond.

She didn’t delete it, closing the Facebook app on her phone instead. She’d block him later, so he couldn’t contact her again. She never should’ve bothered logging into Facebook; she knew full well it was a bad idea the first time, and why was she looking again now? She should delete her entire account and be done with it. But she’d read his message, and now she couldn’t unsee it. Whatever may have happened last night, it would’ve been a mistake. She’d been under the influence. Not only of drink, but of medication too. Unprescribed at that. Louisa tutted at her own stupidity. She’d only wanted to sleep, though. Who could blame her for that?

Louisa wrote out a text to Tiff. She went around the houses a bit – first off asking how her head was, then moving on to mention the party before finally asking if she’d had any recollection of seeing where she went after going out for ‘fresh air’ and not returning. It seemed odd to Louisa that she would say that and then not bother returning to the party. Unless she’d felt so ill she decided she’d be better off in her room.

Yes, that had to be it. She was worrying over nothing. Having not set eyes on her for over twenty years, Oliver had no reason to lie about having seen her stumble into the entrance to the rooms. His message must be to do with something else.

Either way, she knew she shouldn’t contact him. She was in a vulnerable position – an exhausted new mum, trying to cope with a baby as well as a teenager, hormones all over the shop. She feared it wouldn’t take much to fall under Oliver’s spell once more, and she had to avoid that at all costs.

Remember, he left you. Left you alone to face the consequences.

This thought, which appeared in her mind out of nowhere, made her legs go numb.

The ding of a text sounded. Tiff.

Feel like death. As far as my memory allows, though, it was a good party! That Oliver was a bit of a dish. Can’t believe you never mentioned him before! And no, I really don’t know where you disappeared to – last place I have a clear memory seeing you was the beer garden. But I only saw you from the window while I was chatting to some random, and you were with someone too, so I assumed you were OK. I’m sorry I was too far gone to come and find you. What a friend I am. Forgive me! xx

She wasn’t any use then. If Tiff had said she’d been chatting to Oliver after Louisa had done a disappearing act, that might’ve put her mind at ease a bit; he couldn’t have been in two places at once. But no – some ‘random’. Louisa cursed Tiff again for going through her Facebook friends. It could’ve been anyone.

Louisa carried the pillow with her sleeping baby on it to the nursery, placing it inside the cot. Carefully, she slipped Noah off and he gently rolled onto the mattress. Louisa let out her breath. He grumbled, wriggling a little, but then, thankfully, he settled. Transfer successful, she crept out of the room. Brian and Emily’s voices drifted up as Louisa hesitated on the stairs. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she caught the words ‘worried’ and ‘acting weird’. She turned and headed back to her bedroom.

She couldn’t face her family right now.

There’d been little mention of the party, or its aftermath, on Sunday. Louisa had managed to cook a roast chicken lunch while Brian took care of Noah. If nothing else, he seemed to be making more of an effort. Perhaps now his secret party organising was over, he’d be more attentive.

Thankfully, now it was Monday, everything was back to normal. Brian left for his shift at 7 a.m. and Emily bolted out of the door, late, with a piece of cold toast in her hand at 8.10 a.m. The school bus would already be at the stop, but she always cut it fine and had only missed it once. That one time was awkward enough, though. Brian was at work, Tiff was unavailable, and Louisa had ended up paying for a taxi to get her to school. There’d been very few occasions in the past that Louisa regretted her decision not to drive and because her mum had been so involved when Emily was a baby, often taking them out, she hadn’t had reason to. Louisa had passed her test at seventeen but had only driven for just over a year – driving had never been something she’d felt confident doing.

Now, the feeling of being restricted with a newborn and being stuck inside the house, or only able to venture within walking distance unless she wanted to chance public transport with her screaming baby, made her think she should’ve been braver. Too late now.

The house was quiet and Louisa hoped she wasn’t jinxing it when she thought to herself that Noah had become more settled in the last few days. He definitely wasn’t crying as much. The break from her had done him good, clearly. She’d heard once that babies pick up on their mother’s moods, so it was likely he’d been distressed because Louisa was, and not the other way around. It was an interesting thought.

Louisa downed her third coffee and stared out into the street from the lounge window. The caffeine content was the only reason she drank it; she didn’t care for its bitter taste. She had to stay alert today. No more memory lapses, no more panic about whether she’d fed Noah. She had an idea. Placing her coffee on the table, she got a pen and pad of paper from the table drawer and put the day and date, then listed times from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. in columns. Those were the times she’d be on her own today. Emily was going to her friend Evie’s straight from school to work on her science project, and Evie’s dad would drop her home after they’d eaten tea. Brian was due home between half five and six.

Louisa put a tick next to 7 a.m. Noah hadn’t fed for very long – literally two minutes, which wasn’t usual – but he’d seemed satisfied after. She recorded that too. Doing this meant she’d keep on top of things and if her memory blurred, she had this written proof she’d fed him.

All had gone well up until 2 p.m. Louisa cast her eyes down the paper at the ticks. Noah had fed three times. Each time for ten minutes from each breast. The length of time was definitely shortening; he either wasn’t taking as much, or she didn’t have as much to give and that’s why he was feeding more quickly. It had been such a long time since she’d fed Emily, she could no longer recall what her feeding patterns were like – maybe it was normal and she shouldn’t worry. Just in case, Louisa made a note on the paper to call the health visitor to discuss it. Although Noah seemed more content, that might be a bad thing coupled with not feeding enough. He could have something wrong with him.