* * *
When Shay settles I find my bag and swallow two of the prescribed pills. ‘Only if you need them,’ the doctor said, ‘because they will make you drowsy.’ I need them and I hope they make me drowsy. Getting the vision of that card out of my head is what I want to do right now.
Conor calls down over the bannisters, completely unaware that someone is trying to sabotage our happiness. ‘I’m running the bath for you, Laura.’
Putting the bag down to follow him upstairs, I take the container of pills out and put them in my pocket. I’m sure if the doctor knew what just happened, he’d tell me to fire away. ‘As many as you need, Laura.’
The water is hot, stinging. I lower myself into the bath. It’s one of those fancy ones where you can push buttons and the water massages you from different angles. Like a jacuzzi, but smaller. I won’t be pushing any buttons today.
Holding my breath, I dunk my head. Now I’m totally submerged, hoping to relax, but my mind is trying to make sense of that card. I should have known this was all too good to be true. That it was only a matter of time before karma would find me.
Chapter Four
I don’t remember going to bed. That extra pill certainly did the trick. Opening my eyes, I stare at the dark sky above my head. Conor had a skylight the width of the room installed above the bed. He loves to look at the sky at night and I have to admit, I find it very relaxing. Pain in the ass when the sun beats down on you first thing in the morning during the summer but Conor says he’ll have an electric blind installed before summer comes around again.
Three stars above my head. That’s all I can see. The moon is out of the picture. I wonder what they’re called? Conor probably knows. He knows a lot about astronomy. He’s forever talking about it. One of our first dates was spent in the company of Brian Cox, a physicist guy I pretended I’d heard of, when Conor suggested we go to the gig in the 3Arena. It was almost a year ago. A raging storm the previous day had threatened to cancel the event. Fallen trees and floods had extended Conor’s journey to Dublin by almost an hour. Both of us had had to run across the cobblestone pathway of the Arena to get in before the show started. I had struggled in the high heeled shoes that Amanda, my sister, had loaned me for the night, but luckily we had got there just as the door was about to close.
Three hours looking at particles and stars and moons and black holes would have been torture if I hadn’t been so amused by Conor’s enthusiasm. I don’t think he blinked once. The look on his face resembled that of a child entering the gates of Disneyworld. His attention was glued to the giant screen as Brian Cox filled his mind with possibility. Conor often mentioned how he would have loved to study astronomy if he hadn’t inherited the family business when his father died.
I stretch my hand to feel his warmth beside me. He’s not here. Lifting my head, I scan the room and see him sitting on the armchair by the window. Shay is in his arms sucking on a bottle. Gosh, I almost forgot, I have a baby now.
‘Was he crying?’ I say.
‘Like a pack of hyenas. You were out cold.’
‘I didn’t hear a thing.’
Suddenly I feel vulnerable. Incapable. ‘Gosh Conor, what if I never hear him crying in the night?’
‘Don’t worry, Laura. You will. Your body is just overtired at the moment.’ That and the overdose of painkillers which I’m not going to mention.
Conor is staring into Shay’s eyes, rocking him gently. He looks as happy as it’s possible to look, sitting there with his son in his arms. Watching my husband and baby in the dim light makes my heart swell. I must be the luckiest… An image of the card crashes into my mind with heart-stopping clarity!
It’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. Your husband is a murderer. My heart quickens. I look across the room at Conor. His tossed hair, his gentle smile, his strong arms cradling his dream. Could he be a murderer? I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Why am I allowing myself to be scared by a frigging card? Conor was with me the night Vicky was killed. The night before Shay was born. He couldn’t possibly be the killer. And he’s too kind. Conor wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’ve never even heard him speak badly of anyone. Or anyone speak badly of him. Mind you, he does employ half the village so they’d have to be pretty brave to criticise the local saint.
The only time I’ve ever seen Conor lose his cool was on a football pitch. It was a cold day. The frost was nibbling at us all. I was standing on the sideline wrapped in a jacket thick enough to visit the North Pole in, but it did nothing for my tortured toes. Hopping from foot to foot, I was praying for the ref to blow the whistle, when Conor went to ground. Seeing him jump to his feet and swing his hurl at the guy who landed him there surprised me and, apparently, the team manager, who took him off before he did any real damage. I was a bit taken aback. But that was the only occasion I saw him lose it – unlike his best friend Noel, whose temper seems to always be on patrol. I’ve only been at three of their matches and Noel was red-carded in all three of them.
‘Go back to sleep, Laura, we’re fine here.’ Conor’s whisper crosses the dark room. His voice is calming but still my mind struggles to relax. I have to stop. This is ridiculous. Someone is clearly trying to upset me for some reason and I can’t let them. I’m going to be the perfect mother to Shay, the perfect wife to Conor, and no one is going to stop me. I’m going to rip that card up and get on with my life. Closing my eyes, I try to remove the card from my mind but it won’t leave. Have I room for another secret? Maybe I should tell Conor. Or Amanda. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll show my sister the card. Amanda will know what I should do.
Chapter Five
What the hell is that? Lifting my head off the pillow, I hear the sound of people’s laughter travelling up from downstairs. I glance at the clock. It’s after ten, almost eleven. Above the fading laughter, the unmistakable voice of Conor’s mam offering something to someone dominates the proceedings. Dropping my head back into the comfort of the pillow, I inhale. Don’t get annoyed, Laura, it won’t go on forever. But I am annoyed, it’s impossible not to be. What kind of a place is this? Has no one any boundaries?
I drag myself to the shower and change into a pretty shabby-looking tracksuit, reflective of how I feel – pretty shabby. I wanted to spend today alone with Conor and Shay but now the house is full of people who knows when we’ll get a moment to ourselves?
Anxious to see little Shay, I hurry downstairs. Only four visitors have created all that havoc: Maggie, of course, her face still beaming from the excitement of her new grandson; Olive, her blond hair tied back showing her perfect bone structure. Brown eyes set in sallow skin allows her beauty to shine even without makeup. She hasn’t removed her heavy jacket yet, so she mustn’t be planning on staying long. I don’t blame her. It must be awkward for her, standing in her ex’s house as he dotes over his newborn child that he had with another woman. The file in her hand tells me she’s only here to give Conor something from the brewery, but Conor is busy laughing with Noel and Abbie, Conor’s closest friends.
Abbie is lovely but there’s something about Noel that doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t trust him. He’s too confident, all me me me. He practically dismissed me when I first met him, looking at the bump, sneering, like he thought I had purposely got myself pregnant to hold on to Conor. I’ve never seen him show any empathy for anyone. It’s like he lives in his own world, writing his own rules. But Conor seems to love the guy so I can’t say anything.