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  For days after Naomi had thrown him out, he had taken refuge in his old bedroom at his mum’s house, refusing to eat and struggling to sleep. Three weeks ago, after the initial shock had worn off, and following a lot of encouragement from his mum, he had returned to work, although he was pretty sure he wasn’t currently the most productive member of staff. Only today he had been called into his manager’s office and asked if he needed a sabbatical. Charlie knew it was less out of concern for his well-being and more of a coded warning: get your act together or we’ll have to let you go. Losing his job would be a disaster. Going through the motions of a normal day at work was the only thing that was keeping him sane, and it also gave him the opportunity to make his nightly detour on the way back to his mum’s, hoping for a glimpse of his little girl.

  It was a familiar routine. At around 7 p.m., the light would go on in the bathroom, followed about fifteen minutes later by the light in Cassie’s bedroom. Sometimes, when he was still part of his family’s life, she would jump up on her bed to draw her own curtains but, since he had been watching, it had always been Naomi shutting out the world.

  Everything had been much later than usual this evening and, shivering in the sub-zero temperatures, Charlie had to keep telling himself to wait just a few minutes more, tonight might be the night. When he had heard shrieks of laughter coming from the back garden shortly before the bathroom light went on, it had almost broken him. It sounded like Naomi and Cassie were doing just fine without him. She’s even carved the pumpkin, Charlie thought, watching his wife lean back against the door frame to admire her handiwork. That’s always been my job. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, wondering how it had all gone so catastrophically wrong, and when he raised his head, he could have sworn Naomi was looking straight at him. It was so tempting to walk out of the shadows, up the front path and beg forgiveness from the only woman he had ever truly loved. But even as this thought formed, Naomi retreated to the warmth of the house, closing the door behind her and extinguishing all light but the flicker of the candle from the depths of the pumpkin. That’s all I have to cling onto, a tiny glimmer of hope that one day she’ll listen to my side of the story.

  Although he knew he should be heading back to his mum’s, certain she would be worried sick about him, Charlie wasn’t sure that it was safe to leave the candle burning. What if it gets blown over and somehow sets the house on fire? I’d never forgive myself if I could have done something to prevent a terrible tragedy. He decided to give it a few minutes, and then make his way silently up the path to blow the candle out.

  Before he had a chance to move, the hall light was turned off. Naomi must have decided on an early night, he thought, picturing her heading upstairs to the bed they used to share. He closed his eyes and imagined himself holding her against his chest before she raised her face to his and their lips met. He could almost taste the minty freshness of her breath and smell her perfume, The One, by Dolce & Gabbana. He had bought it for her on their first Christmas together as husband and wife, in part because he liked the smell but mostly because she was ‘the one’ for him. And now I’ve ruined everything, he thought, creeping stealthily up the path. He glanced down and realised that he should have credited Naomi with more sense. It wasn’t a real candle, after all.

  Chapter Three

  9.05 p.m. – Thursday

  There was no way Naomi was going to forget about the pumpkin, but to be on the safe side, she put it on the step outside the front door where she and Cassie would more or less fall over it the following morning. She turned on the artificial tea light candle to illuminate it from the inside and leaned back to admire her handiwork. Understandably, the school wouldn’t allow real candles, but the artificial ones flickered in almost the same way.

  Naomi shivered. It’s probably just the cold, she thought, peering into the inky darkness beyond the reach of the street light, but it does sometimes feel as though someone’s watching me. She closed and locked the door, then headed through to the kitchen to double-check that the back door was secure too before she hung the keys on a metal holder shaped like a black cat. Despite his promises to paint it orange to more closely resemble Pumpkin, Charlie hadn’t got around to it. He was probably too busy seeing Jessica behind my back, Naomi thought, an image of the curvy blonde kissing her husband filling her mind. She reached for the work surface to steady herself. Simply thinking about her husband and what they had lost was overwhelming. Although she had tried her hardest to banish all thoughts of him, there were times, like earlier in the evening, as she had been carving the pumpkin, when it was impossible. It was hard to deny his existence when there were so many daily reminders to the contrary, not least of which was looking at their beautiful daughter, who was the image of her dad. Naomi had felt guilty at times for preventing Charlie from seeing Cassie, but it was a form of self-preservation. Explaining to a five-year-old the reasons why her mummy and daddy were no longer living together was something she couldn’t face at the moment. It was easier for him not to be in their lives. Eventually she might be strong enough to allow him to visit, but not yet; it was too raw, too painful to even contemplate.

  ‘Right, Pumpkin. What do you fancy for your dinner tonight, rabbit or turkey?’ she asked the ginger tom in an effort to blot out her thoughts of Charlie with routine. Pumpkin had purred rhythmically and brushed past her legs repeatedly in response.

  ‘Rabbit it is,’ Naomi said, spooning the food into his bowl and placing it on the plastic mat covered in miniature paw prints. ‘At least you love me,’ she added, tickling him behind his ears, ‘even if it is only because I feed you.’

  She flicked off the kitchen light, leaving the door to the lounge ajar to give Pumpkin the choice between the comfort of the sofa or his fleece-lined basket.

  Although it was only a little after 9 p.m., Naomi was barely able to raise one foot in front of the other as she had dragged herself up the stairs and undressed for bed before heading to the bathroom.

  The harsh overhead light was less than flattering as Naomi examined her face in the mirrored bathroom cabinet while she was brushing her teeth, observing that even the soft lighting used on a film set would have a job disguising her dark circles and bloodshot eyes. Despite her exhaustion, she suspected sleep would elude her the moment her head hit the pillow as it had done since that fateful night. Stretching out ahead of her were hours of lying in the dark, torturing herself with the same thoughts. If only we hadn’t argued. If only Charlie hadn’t slammed out of the house in a temper. It was too late now; nothing could ever be the same again.

  She opened the cabinet to put the toothpaste away and her eyes rested on several unused pregnancy testing kits. It was almost as though they were taunting her. How many times over the past three years had she held her breath after peeing on the test sticks, waiting for the word ‘pregnant’ to appear? How many times have I cried myself to sleep when the word didn’t appear? Charlie always said he wanted a brother or sister for Cassie as much as I do, but it’s not him that feels an utter and complete failure every time the test is negative. Well, I won’t be needing them now. She grabbed the boxes and threw them with force into the metal bin. But maybe I should give these a try?

  Naomi looked at the picture on the side of the packet that her best friend Kate had handed her in the school playground that afternoon while they were waiting for their children to finish for the day. It was of a person lying down with ‘z’s in various sizes surrounding their head. Kate had suggested she try the pills several times over the past few weeks, but Naomi always resisted, reminding her friend that she hated taking any kind of medication.

  When the subject of lack of sleep had come up again, Kate had reached into her bag and produced the box that Naomi was currently holding in her hand. ‘They’re herbal,’ Kate had assured her, ‘so not really medication. They’re aimed at relaxing you sufficiently to fall asleep naturally, not filling you full of chemicals. They’re the ones I take when I’m a bit stressed out, so I’m
afraid there are only a couple left in the pack. Look, I wouldn’t dream of saying this if you weren’t my best friend, but it all seems to be getting a bit much for you on your own. I’m worried that your lack of sleep will eventually affect your ability to look after Cassie. Just give them a try tonight, and if they don’t work for you, or you don’t like the way they make you feel, you never have to take them again.’

  After further gentle persuasion, Naomi had agreed to try them. Kate had made her promise that she would by saying ‘Brownie’s honour’. A faint smile momentarily found the corners of Naomi’s mouth as she remembered the two of them making their first solemn oath together when they were only eight years old. They had been playing in the park when Naomi had said she was hungry. While she distracted the owner, Kate had stolen two bags of crisps from the shelves of the corner shop opposite.

  ‘It’s our secret,’ she had said once they were safely back in the park, munching on the salt-and-vinegar potato snacks. ‘You have to promise not to tell anyone.’

  ‘Brownie’s honour,’ Naomi had replied. From that moment, whenever either of the friends promised using those words, they had to stick to it.

  ‘Is everything okay, Mummy? I thought I heard a noise.’

  Naomi spun round to see a sleepy Cassie in the doorway.

  ‘What are you doing out of bed?’ she snapped.

  ‘I came to see if you were all right.’

  ‘Well, you can see I am, so go back to bed,’ she said, immediately regretting the sharpness of her tone of voice. ‘I’m just tired,’ she explained to Cassie’s retreating back. Unbelievably tired, she thought, turning back to her reflection in the mirror. I can’t go on like this. It’s not fair to take things out on Cassie. Kate’s right; she has to be my priority. I have to get a decent night’s sleep, or I’ll crack up completely. Reaching for the packet of tablets and her glass of water, Naomi pulled the cord to extinguish the bathroom light and headed towards her bedroom and another solitary night.

  Chapter Four

  9.15 p.m. – Thursday

  ‘Is that you, Charlie?’ Hazel called out. ‘You’re late tonight, love.’

  ‘Sorry, Mum. I’m still catching up on stuff at work. I hope you didn’t wait for me for dinner.’

  ‘Of course I did, I don’t like you eating alone. Get your coat off and wash your hands and I’ll dish up. I’ve done a nice warming sausage casserole, it’s bitter out there tonight. That’s the trouble with bright sunny days in the autumn – it translates to cold frosty nights. Mind you, I bet the weather will turn for the fireworks display on Saturday, it always seems to rain and spoil things.’

  Charlie was grateful to his mum for letting him stay with her after Naomi had thrown him out, but he did find that her constant chatter grated on his nerves, as did her repeatedly asking him if he was okay. He wanted to say, no, I’m not okay, my heart is breaking, but instead he always smiled and said, ‘Getting by, Mum’. He knew the whole situation was difficult for her, too. Naomi had always welcomed her mother-in-law into their home, but since the break-up she had said she thought it would be less distressing for Cassie if Hazel stayed away. Having her grandma around would only remind the little girl that her daddy was not, and Naomi insisted that she didn’t think that was fair on Cassie. Charlie suspected this wasn’t entirely the truth, but under the circumstances he could hardly argue against her decision. It was as though she wanted to wipe him from her memory by pretending he didn’t exist, and who could blame her? Nevertheless, it was really upsetting for his mum. She worshipped her only grandchild and, living on the next street, was used to seeing her on an almost daily basis. What a cock-up, he thought, instantly cringing at his choice of words.

  ‘It’s on the table.’

  ‘Coming, Mum,’ Charlie called back, trying to ignore the haunted look in his eyes reflected in the mirror above the basin. He plastered a smile on his face as he walked into the kitchen.

  ‘Mmm, that smells good.’

  At least he’s eating now, Hazel thought, clearing the dishes away and filling the sink with warm soapy water to tackle the washing-up. Charlie had offered to help but she assured him she could manage, urging him instead to get an early night after reminding him that she needed the garage door opening. He hadn’t argued, kissing her on the top of her head on his way to retrieve the garage key from the hook near the back door.

  It was a huge improvement since the first few days after Naomi barred him from their home. Initially he had shut himself away in his old bedroom, refusing even the cups of hot sweet tea Hazel offered him. After a fortnight off work, he managed to rally a little, and toast and coffee fuelled him sufficiently to leave the house each morning. Gradually things were improving, but he still refused to talk to her about exactly what had happened.

  Hazel had her suspicions, but found it hard to believe her darling Charlie would treat a woman in the same way that his feckless father had treated her. She knew all about bringing up a child single-handed and it wasn’t something she would recommend, although the closeness she shared with her son was some compensation.

  In Hazel’s opinion, Charlie and Naomi were made for each other, unlike her doomed relationship with Frank, Charlie’s dad. We never stood a chance, really, she thought, carefully washing each dish in the soapy suds before rinsing it under the cold tap and placing it in the draining rack. With Charlie already on the way when we got married, we had barely got used to living as a couple before there were three of us. Charlie and Naomi were married for five years before Cassie arrived on the scene, but maybe that wasn’t entirely planned, she reflected, knowing Naomi’s recent history of miscarriages and difficulty in falling pregnant. It doesn’t seem fair somehow. I became pregnant so easily, almost forcing Frank into ‘doing the right thing’, and those two can’t conceive a much longed for brother or sister for Cassie. Life can be so cruel. Maybe that’s what has finally come between them. The pressure to have another baby is taking all the fun out of their sex life.

  Whatever the reason, Hazel had initially felt confident that the two of them would sort things out, but the weeks were dragging on and there was still no indication that Naomi would ever speak to Charlie again, let alone reconcile with him. Not wanting to be accused of interfering, she had to stand by and watch from the sidelines, feeling completely helpless, as the three people she cared most about in the world slowly drifted apart. It was bad enough not seeing Naomi. She really liked her warm, caring daughter-in-law, but it was being refused access to Cassie that was truly heartbreaking. The little girl, with her happy, smiling face and cornflower-blue eyes, the exact same shade as Charlie’s and Frank’s, had brought so much pleasure to Hazel from the day she was born. The thought of not being allowed to resume the close relationship she had always enjoyed with her only grandchild caused a lump in her chest that made it difficult for her to breathe at times. She brushed a tear away from the corner of her eye with the back of her yellow rubber washing-up glove, leaving a residue of foam in her greying hair. I just can’t let that happen. I can’t live the rest of my life without Cassie in it, and neither can Charlie. I know she’s hurting and needs the reassurance of her daughter’s unconditional love, but if she doesn’t come round to seeing things from other people’s points of view, I’ll have to make Charlie go back and see the lawyer chap to get some kind of access agreed.

  Absent-mindedly, Hazel cut up the half-sausage left on Charlie’s plate and scraped it into Alfie’s bowl. The golden retriever wagged his tail in anticipation.

  ‘Not yet, boy. You’ll have to wait until after your walk, and then you can have it with your biscuits for supper.’

  As if the dog had understood every word, he went over to where his lead was hanging on the wall next to the back door and lay down with his chin resting on his front legs, whining softly.

  ‘All right, boy. Let me finish this washing-up and then we’ll pop out. Only a short walk tonight though,’ she warned. ‘I’ve got an early start in the morning if I’m going
to beat the traffic.’

  Chapter Five

  Day One – 8.02 a.m. – Friday

  Rachel closed her eyes and stepped forward under the sharp needles of water, allowing them to stream down her face and wash away the saltiness, a mixture of tears and perspiration. Her panic attacks had lessened in frequency, but were no less severe than when she had first experienced them nearly thirty years ago. At least when I get to menopause, I’ll already know what it feels like to wake up drenched in my own sweat. She reached for the shampoo bottle and squeezed out a large dollop before lathering it vigorously into her scalp. The aroma of apples filled her nostrils, catching her by surprise. She had run out of the brand that she bought on her quarterly trip to the hairdressers so had grabbed a bottle, along with a shepherd’s pie ready meal for one, from the shop at the garage when she had filled up with petrol on her way home from work the previous evening. She opened her eyes, risking getting foam in them and making them sting and glared at the bottle. Sure enough, the label read ‘crisp apple fragrance’. That’s going straight in the bin. The last thing I need is a reminder of the first time I met him. She shivered, turning the heat up on the water in an effort to cleanse her mind of unwelcome memories, even at the risk of scalding her body. She rinsed the foam from her hair and applied a generous amount of her usual conditioner, leaving it on while she washed herself, in the hope that it would mask the smell of apples.