checking to see if Brian had said anything inappropriate. Then she did the same on Brian’s. Even though she was analysing everything as if under a microscope, she couldn’t find anything that looked suspicious in terms of them having an affair.
She then clicked on to Sarah’s profile. At first glance, her life looked perfect. Every photo Sarah posted showed smiling faces; happy families – on outings, all sitting around the table having a family meal, the kids all behaving. The picture of perfection – then she did the dirty? Facebook is a lie, Louisa concluded. In fact, she would go as far as saying it was evil. The fakeness appalled her. It was why she kept off it, although, deep down she knew that wasn’t the only reason.
As she moved the cursor to close it down, vowing to herself never to go back on the site, Louisa’s attention was caught by the number beside the miniature world icon on the top right of her page. Thirty notifications.
Ignore them.
It’s not like she had tons of friends – real or otherwise – so despite a long absence she hadn’t expected to see so many notifications.
Louisa relinquished and clicked on them.
Her breath ceased for a few seconds. Every one of them was from a single source, and it was not Tiff, as she’d expected. And all but one of them was the same.
Oliver Dunmore invited you to join the group Exeter College Leavers 1997
The newest notification was the only one that was different.
You joined the group Exeter College Leavers 1997
How had she joined? She hadn’t accepted the invitation.
Oliver was not a person she wished to remember, and neither was her time at Exeter College. Louisa’s head swam.
She slammed the laptop lid closed.
Friday a.m.
‘You look dreadful. You can’t go on with this little sleep, Lou.’ Brian’s opening line as he walked into the kitchen holding Noah was an unnecessary statement.
‘I know that. I’m really feeling it. Last night scared me.’
‘Me too. You were so utterly convinced you’d killed him.’ Brian passed Noah to her, then gave her shoulders a squeeze before sitting down at the table opposite her. ‘Your eyes … they were manic, Lou. You didn’t look like you.’
‘I’m so sorry for freaking you out.’ Louisa dropped her gaze, not wanting Brian to see the fear in her eyes. She smiled at Noah’s scrunched-up face as he yawned.
‘I’m having Noah tonight. There’s enough milk in the freezer and he’ll be okay with me bottle-feeding him for one night. I’m going to take you to Court Farm this afternoon. I’ve booked you a room there – you need to get some sleep.’
‘What? No, Brian. It’s a lovely thought but I can’t leave Noah. I won’t sleep if I’m away from him, I’ll just worry all the time.’
‘He’ll be absolutely fine with me. Don’t you trust me?’
Four words. Ones that had huge weight attached to them. Louisa couldn’t even answer immediately.
‘I know I’ve not been pulling my weight.’ Brian reached across, running his fingertips gently across Louisa’s cheek. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been selfish. But let me do this now. For you.’ He looked at her with pleading eyes. ‘Please?’
The text to Tiff was fresh in her mind. He wanted her out of the way so he could meet up with her.
‘I don’t feel confident. Not with how I’ve been feeling …’
‘Tiff will be with you.’
‘What?’
‘Tiff is going to stay too. Separate room, don’t worry – you need solid sleep, not to be chatting all night.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Louisa frowned. This was an unexpected turn.
‘I could see how badly this lack of sleep was affecting you. I’ve been talking to Tiff, asking her advice really, and together we thought this would at least give you a bit of a break …’
Louisa sank back in the chair. Had their messaging and the hushed conversations all been about arranging one night away from her baby? Louisa’s face flushed. Shit. She’d practically accused Tiff of having an affair with her husband. As well as hallucinations, she could now tick paranoia off the sleep deprivation checklist.
‘But it’s a pub, Brian. I won’t sleep with all the noise.’
‘The rooms are in a converted barn adjacent to the pub so it should be fine. Even if you don’t get to sleep until midnight, you could still get seven, eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. It’ll be far better than what you’ve been getting.’
Louisa contemplated it. It wasn’t as if her parents could take Noah, like they used to Emily. They were too old now: her mother too fragile, her dad clueless – plus, she hadn’t even spoken to them for weeks, their relationship remaining strained. Even when they’d looked after Emily, Louisa had always felt it’d been something they’d done out of duty rather than love. Each time her mum agreed to take Emily it was a decision edged with bitterness.
Louisa’s rocky relationship with them, her mother in particular, was a hangover from her teenage years – she’d often been told how she’d been challenging, that her erratic behaviour when she was at college had caused no end of worry. Louisa had spent a long time wishing she could’ve gone away to a college further afield, rather than to the closest one. But commuting daily to Exeter was simpler and it wasn’t as though she had much choice anyway. It wasn’t like going off to uni, where it was expected you live away from home. She was only doing A levels and none of her friends had their own digs; all of them lived at home too, so she couldn’t even crash at anyone else’s. Things might have been very different if that had been a possibility.
Considering her lack of options, Brian’s offer may well be her only opportunity to have some time out. One night couldn’t hurt. And she really needed sleep if the last few days, and particularly last night, were anything to go by.
‘Thank you.’ She gave a grateful smile.
‘Good. That’s settled then.’ Brian got up and moved to the worktop where his mobile was. He unplugged it from its charger and was immediately immersed in texting. Tiff, she presumed.
‘We got any Coco Pops?’ Emily breezed into the kitchen. No ‘good morning’, no eye contact.
‘Unless you’ve eaten them all, then yes – in the larder.’
Emily huffed and sloped over to the larder, pulling the yellow box from
