finally asleep. Worn out! Wish you were here. Love you xxx
His reply arrives seconds later. Well done. Love you too x
She settles down in the bed and closes her eyes. Within minutes she feels herself falling into blackness and succumbs to it willingly.
The night passes in a series of vivid dreams. Mabel crawls around her head in a manic game of tag. Ruby chases after her, but every time she gets within grabbing distance, Mabel speeds up or turns a corner or even disappears. Another time, she hears crying but can’t work out where the sound is coming from, outside the dream or within it. She wants to follow the noise, but her legs refuse to move. ‘Where are you, Mabel?’ she mouths, but the dream won’t let her speak. Then the crying stops and she has the sensation of letting go of something, of falling backwards and sinking into the bottomless well of sleep.
Chapter Twelve
The day
I’ve just seen the babysitter leave the house with the buggy and head into the park, off for their Saturday-morning stroll, by the look of it. Same baggy trousers, same silly bobble hat on her head. She passed within a few feet of me and a shiver of expectation ran through my body.
They trundle past the play area, then disappear behind the café building. As tempting as it is to follow them, I decide to leave the park immediately and go home. There’s so much to prepare, so many plans to put into action. On my way out, I walk along William Morris Terrace, scanning the street for Amber and George’s car. As I guessed, it’s not there. Impossible to know how long they’re going to be away, but surely they wouldn’t leave Mabel for more than a couple of days? They may even return this evening. But if they don’t … if the babysitter is on her own with Mabel tonight …
The rest of the day passes slowly, even though I’m fully occupied. I’m trembling with excitement as I go around the flat, packing and making final arrangements. By 5 p.m., everything is ready. I have nappies, clothes, formula, baby food, a travel cot, a car seat, a high chair and a lightweight foldable buggy that fits neatly into the boot of my car. I have enough food to last me several weeks, and only need to take the minimum amount of clothes. I won’t be going out, apart from to take Mabel for walks in the forest. Must take my wellies too – it rains a lot down there. I dig them out of the cupboard and put them by the door, along with everything else. Can’t pack the car until it gets dark.
I’m feeling too nervous to eat. I clean the fridge and wipe down the kitchen surfaces, more to give me something to do than because I want to leave the flat in good order. I’ll have to keep paying the rent because I’m leaving lots of stuff here. Who knows when I’ll be able to come back to collect it? Not that it matters; I don’t need any of that stuff. It’s all extraneous and unnecessary. I’m even leaving behind the presents I was given. Like an idiot, I was clinging onto them as some kind of feeble substitute, but I don’t need them any more. Soon I’m going to have the only present I ever wanted.
Big changes are ahead. I feel dizzy with expectation. After months of living in the shadows, I’m walking into the light. I’m starting my life again; I’m going to be reborn.
3 a.m. Fully loaded, I drive the car to a quiet side street several hundred metres from William Morris Terrace and park in a dark spot, away from CCTV cameras and street lamps. The roads are so quiet; not a single car passes me as I walk towards the house. My heart thumps with every step, racing to keep up with me. The copied key swings on its string necklace and I press it beneath the layers of clothing. My hood is up; I’m wearing a scarf over my face and black leather gloves. Dark, anonymous clothes. Unremarkable footwear. Fortunately, it’s cold, so I don’t look out of place. There’s nobody about, but I keep my head down in case any houses have security cameras.
The park looms ahead of me, grey blobs of trees rustling eerily in the night breeze. The gates are closed to all but the night creatures. I stop for