her voice as taut as a violin string. ‘I was looking for you. Can you get Leo’s clothes ready? He’s got a play date scheduled in an hour.’
My eyes darted from left to right and I realised she was talking to me.
‘Yeah . . . sure,’ I said, jabbing the lift button again.
Sheridan glared, her annoyance evident. ‘You’re not an invalid, are you? Take the stairs.’
Spinning on my heel, I left them both to it, the echoes of Monica’s voice in my ears: ‘You left your purse behind. I thought I’d drop it in. It’s a killa finding pahking around here . . .’
I stopped around the corner and realised I was trembling. Why didn’t Sheridan tell her who I really was? I knew she was passing my baby off as her own, but couldn’t she have confided in her friend? I took a deep, soothing breath. Told myself to get a grip. I walked into the kitchen, waiting for Sheridan to return.
‘What’s going on?’ George paled as I returned. I was about to explain when I heard the front door close.
‘I . . .’ My words were cut short as Sheridan marched in, her arms swinging by her side.
‘Why were you standing there like a gormless idiot?’ She jabbed the air with her finger. ‘I had to tell her you were a member of staff.’
‘I’m sorry. I . . . I didn’t know what to do.’
‘What if she saw your bump?’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘She didn’t, did she? Because that’s a whole can of worms you don’t want to open.’
I remembered laying my hands on my stomach. Had Monica seen? I couldn’t honestly say. My top was baggy, and I wasn’t big.
I shook my head. ‘We only spoke for a second. I don’t think she saw.’
‘As for pressing the elevator button for the basement floor . . .’ She prodded the side of my forehead, her finger like a woodpecker burrowing into my brain. ‘Think, girl, think! If I issue my staff a command, they bow their heads instead of replying, “Yeah, sure.”’
I bristled at her attempt at copying my Irish accent. If it were anyone else, I would have given them a mouthful and slapped their hand away. It was hardly my fault that she’d left her purse at the restaurant and that Anna had let Monica in. Yet I was the one taking the blame.
‘I’ll go to my room.’ I shuffled out to the corridor, exchanging one last look with George as she dismissed me with a wave. He appeared uncomfortable throughout our exchange, but remained silent just the same.
I stepped inside my basement room, trying not to cry. This wasn’t the family I had envisioned for my child. After kicking off my trainers, I pulled on a thick pair of socks and padded over to the air vent above. Craning my neck, I strained to hear George mention a bad signal and Sheridan saying it was fine, as she hadn’t been listening anyway. She had to be referring to when I turned off his phone. Why did she need to listen? What did she think we were going to do?
Quick footsteps above me were accompanied by a door slamming shut. Leo was home from school. I returned my attention to my surroundings, my senses on high alert. Something was different. It was more than the usual housekeeping. Things had been moved.
I cast my eye over the bulging bookshelf. Sheridan had added to it in my absence. Had she been through my things? Being seen by Monica would only make Sheridan tighten the reins on me even more. Her employees acted like robots whenever she was around. Was that how she expected me to behave, too? I thought of George, and the act he put on in her company. I thought of the servants too scared to meet my eye. Everybody except Daniel was walking on eggshells. George had seemed unsurprised when I told him that Sheridan had pulled my hair. Had he seen her do this sort of thing before? I glanced around the ceiling. Had she fitted cameras in this room? Microphones?
I opened the double wardrobe. I was grasping at straws. If George had unpacked a travel plug I would have seen it by now. The thought dissipated as I noticed something was wrong. Gone were my blouses, dresses and jeans. Row upon row of grey shapeless maternity dresses hung in their place. I pulled open the drawer underneath. Next to my sweatshirts were