bitch, Louisa. A total bitch, that’s who,’ Tiff said vehemently.
‘You’d never do that to me, would you?’
The burst of laughter made Louisa jump. For a moment she was puzzled – she hadn’t realised she’d said the words out loud, only thought them.
‘What? God, of course not. And, you know, it’s not as if Brian is my type.’ She threw her head back and carried on laughing.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Louisa put her mug down hard on the coaster. She’d managed to go from mistrust to indignation in a beat.
‘You’re serious,’ Tiff said. The laughter stopped, her smile disappearing. ‘I’m confused, Lou. What’s up with you?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m just hormonal. It’s nothing.’
‘No, go on. It’s obviously something or you wouldn’t be reacting in this way.’
‘I feel bad now. I – I shouldn’t have looked …’
‘Looked at what?’ A mask of concern darkened Tiff’s face. Louisa regretted saying anything, but now she’d come this far she may as well continue.
‘A text. On Brian’s phone. He’s been weird lately, acting suspiciously, on the bloody mobile all the time. All hush-hush stuff. I thought he must be having an affair …’ Louisa looked up at Tiff, her face stony. ‘Maybe it’s with Sarah.’ Louisa gave a nervous laugh. But it was too late to make jokes – Tiff knew what she was getting at.
‘No. Not Sarah. But not me either. Not anyone, Lou. He only loves you.’ Her voice was cool.
Louisa swallowed hard. ‘Why are you arranging to meet then? Friday, you said in the text.’
Tiff got up and walked around the kitchen island to Louisa.
‘Look, Lou,’ Tiff said, putting an arm around her shoulders. ‘Even if Brian was my type, I’d never cross that line. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a husband-snatcher. And I would never go after my best friend’s husband. I’m going to put this down to your sleep-deprived state – and your loopy hormones, like you said – and try not to be deeply hurt that you’d even think such a thing. Now, how about another coffee?’ Her hand slipped from Louisa’s shoulder as she straightened and moved away.
Louisa frowned. Tiff hadn’t denied the text, although she’d put up a convincing argument about how she wouldn’t have an affair with Brian. Because of her reaction Louisa didn’t feel she could carry on the conversation or ask anything more about Friday – not without alienating her further.
There was something more, though, she could sense it.
Louisa realised she only half-believed her best friend. And that didn’t sit well at all.
Thursday p.m.
Louisa awoke with her head and torso slumped over her lap. She straightened, taking a deep breath as she looked round the room. She was in Noah’s nursery, in the chair.
Her heart gave a jolt. She’d been feeding Noah.
She looked down. He was quiet. Still. Cradled in her arms. She’d fallen asleep over him.
Louisa shook him gently.
Nothing.
She jumped up, holding Noah upright.
A sharp cry.
For a moment she was relieved. But the cry was her own.
‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Brian crashed through the door, hair ruffled, his face ashen.
‘No – ah …’ Louisa gasped for air, holding the limp baby up towards her husband.
‘What? What about him. He’s quiet, Lou, leave him to sleep.’ Brian’s brow was furrowed.
‘I – I was feeding him, I fell asleep – he’s – he’s not breathing, Brian!’
Brian hit the light switch. A soft yellow illumination filled the small room.
‘Louisa.’ He reached out and took her arms. ‘Louisa, he’s just asleep—’
‘No. I squashed him, look …’ Louisa was afraid to gaze down again, fearful of seeing the damage she’d done. But suddenly her arms felt light.
She looked down.
Noah wasn’t in them.
‘You must’ve been asleep and dreamt it, Lou. He’s fine. He’s in his cot, and he’s breathing. I promise.’ Brian pulled Louisa gently towards the cot and placed her shaking hand on Noah’s chest. ‘See?’
Louisa’s breathing slowed as she felt the steady rise and fall.
Tears of relief slipped down her cheeks. It hadn’t felt like a dream. She’d been certain he was in her arms.
‘Come to bed.’ Brian’s voice – soft, coaxing – relaxed her.
Louisa could only nod as Brian took her hand and gently guided her to their room. She climbed into bed. But she didn’t fall asleep again. A coil of fear remained – an ache, a pain she couldn’t rid herself of – the question of whether she’d hallucinated purely because of sleep deprivation lay heavy in her exhausted mind.
She waited for Brian’s deep guttural snoring to start, then she crept out of bed.
Her online search yielded a long list of hits. Louisa’s anxiety at what had happened – her belief she’d suffocated Noah when he wasn’t even in her arms despite her eyes telling her otherwise – lessened slightly. It seemed hallucinations were one of the most common effects of lack of sleep. One article mentioned that the effects of sleep deprivation could mimic mental illness.
Louisa began to panic that having Noah, and the lack of sleep that came with him, might have triggered her old problem. Or was the article right – was she merely experiencing the effects of not sleeping? She didn’t want to think about it. Louisa closed Google and was about to log into Mumsnet, but then decided Facebook might take her mind off things more. Thinking about what Tiff had said about Sarah, and the fact Louisa had never responded to being tagged, she thought now was as good a time as any to catch up. She may even find evidence of something going on between Tiff and Brian. They were both aware she didn’t really use Facebook and therefore would be unlikely to spot anything untoward – they may have taken advantage of that.
After a few failed attempts at logging in, Louisa finally recalled her ‘easy-to-remember’ password that Tiff had set for her and the homepage popped up. She immediately searched Tiff’s and Brian’s profiles. There were a few ‘likes’
