Page 23 of The Child Next Door


  I don’t know why I’m standing around here. I know what I need to do. I need to confront my husband. But I’m putting it off. If Dom admits to this, then I’ll have to accept that my marriage is over. I’ll have no choice but to leave him and bring Daisy up on my own. I don’t want it to be true. Please don’t let it be. My throat tightens and my eyes sting. But I can’t fall apart. Not yet.

  Thirty-Six

  I park my car at an untidy angle on my in-laws’ gravel driveway, next to Dom’s Audi, his scratched paintwork a stark reminder of everything that’s happened. As though I need reminding. I get out of the car and run my fingertip along the scarred surface of the scratch, the roughness scraping my flesh. I imagine how Callum’s anger at Dom must have turned to temporary satisfaction as he dug his key into the side of the gleaming vehicle. If Dom tells me that it’s true – that he’s having an affair with our neighbours’ daughter – perhaps I’ll give him a matching pair, and balance out the other side of his car. Or perhaps I’ll do what Callum wishes he’d done and ‘torch the fucker’.

  I take a breath and pull my fingers through my curls. This won’t be easy. Before I get to speak to Dom, I’ll have to navigate his parents. I can already picture the disapproving looks, overlaid with distant politeness. But I can’t let their judgement distract me or make me feel guilty for something I haven’t done. I crunch over the gravel and ring the doorbell.

  I hear laughter from inside. Footsteps approaching. More laughter. The door opens. It’s Audrey in full make-up, wearing an Emma Bridgwater apron over a knee-length, floral-print dress, her open smile turning to mild shock when she sees me. ‘Ah, Kirstie. We weren’t, uh, expecti— Never mind, come in, dear, come in.’

  I step inside their expansive hallway, the smell of roasting meat wafting under my nose, making me fight the urge to retch. It’s thirty degrees out, but heaven forbid Geoff and Dominic don’t get their roast lamb with all the trimmings for Sunday lunch.

  ‘I’ve come to speak to Dom,’ I say. Male laughter floats out from the back of the house. Nice to hear my husband’s having such a jolly time.

  Audrey purses her lips and lowers her voice. ‘I think you should give Dominic some space, dear. It’s all been a bit of a shock – your breakdown, and yesterday’s unfortunate incident. Maybe give him a day or two.’

  I bite back my sarcasm. If she knew what her precious son had been up to, she might be a bit less judgemental. ‘I won’t stay long,’ I say. ‘I just need to have a word with him about a few things.’

  ‘Well, the boys are in the den watching the athletics. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and give me a hand with lunch? Speak to him after.’

  ‘Where’s Daisy?’ I ask, my whole body yearning to hold her.

  ‘Ah, the little darling is up in her room having a nap,’ Audrey says.

  Her room. Since when does Daisy have her own room here? ‘Which room have you put her in?’ I ask. ‘Dom’s old room?’

  ‘No, dear. The small front bedroom. It’s perfect for her as it’s cooler than the others – north facing. It’s not good for babies to be too hot.’

  I ignore the passive-aggressive advice. ‘Okay, I’ll just nip up and see if she’s all right.’ I make a move towards the sweeping staircase behind us.

  ‘Like I said…’ Audrey puts a bony hand on my bruised arm, making me wince at the sudden pain. ‘Daisy’s having a nap.’

  I would be quite within my rights to kick up a fuss and insist on seeing my daughter, but I don’t want to cause a scene before I’ve even spoken to Dom. It takes all of my willpower to accede. But I do it, letting my shoulders slump as I turn away from the stairs. Right now, more than anything, I need to have this conversation with my husband. ‘Okay, well in that case, I need to speak to Dom. I’m afraid he’ll have to watch the athletics later.’

  ‘Fine,’ Audrey says, removing her hand from my arm, her eyes widening as she notices the livid bruises and scratches on my skin. She looks like she’s about to say something, but then she clamps her mouth shut before opening it again. ‘Go into the sitting room, dear. I’ll fetch Dominic.’

  I step into the vast lounge, an eighties time warp with its dark wooden drinks cabinets, Laura Ashley wallpaper and chintzy sofas. I wish I didn’t have to have this conversation in this house, on his territory, but it’s too late now.

  ‘Kirstie, what are you doing here?’ Dom comes into the lounge, a puzzled look on his face. Audrey follows him in. ‘We won’t be long, Mum,’ he says. ‘Give us a few minutes?’

  ‘Of course. Can I get either of you a drink?’

  ‘We’re fine,’ Dom replies, answering for the two of us.

  She leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

  Dom glances out of the window. ‘You drove here, Kirst. I told you not to drive. You’re probably still over the limit.’

  ‘I’m fine. This is the most sober I’ve ever been in my life. How’s Daisy?’

  ‘Asleep.’ He turns to face me.

  ‘I know that,’ I say. ‘But how is she? Has she been okay?’

  ‘A bit grizzly. But yeah, fine.’

  She’s probably grizzly because she’s missing her mummy, I think angrily.

  ‘You look tired,’ he says.

  I bring a hand up to my face self-consciously. ‘Yeah, well, it’s been a stressful morning. A stressful week. A stressful bloody month.’ I exhale. ‘I need to ask you something, Dom. And I need you to be completely honest with me.’

  ‘I’m always honest with you, Kirst.’

  I drove over here angry, ready to demand answers. But now I’m here, faced with my husband, I can’t think what to say.

  ‘Well? What’s this thing you need to ask?’ he prompts.

  I stare into my husband’s eyes, terrified to ask the question.

  ‘Kirstie?’

  ‘I heard something today,’ I begin. ‘An accusation.’

  ‘What have you done now?’

  ‘This is about you, Dom.’

  ‘Me?’

  I swallow and lick my lips. I can’t put this off any longer. ‘Are you sleeping with Hannah Slater?’

  ‘Who?’ He gives a disbelieving snort and shakes his head. ‘This is a joke, right?’

  ‘No joke,’ I reply. ‘I wish it was.’

  ‘First you think I’m sleeping with Mel, then Tamsin, and now someone called Hannah. This is getting ridiculous, Kirstie.’

  ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know who she is. I’m talking about Lorna’s daughter Hannah, who lives next door.’

  ‘Oh, right. And you actually think I’m sleeping with her?’

  ‘I found Callum Carson in our house today and he had some interesting things to say about you and Hannah.’

  ‘That little shit. What do you mean you found him in our house?’ Dom’s face clouds over. ‘Did he break in? Don’t tell me you believed a word that came out of his mouth. I already told you he’s a liar.’

  The lounge door opens and Audrey pops her head in. ‘Everything all right in here? I heard raised voices.’

  ‘We’re fine, Mum,’ Dom snaps, then immediately softens. ‘Can you give us a minute?’

  Audrey’s face flushes. ‘Of course.’ She glances from Dom to me and then backs out of the room, closing the door once more.

  ‘You still haven’t answered me, Dom.’

  ‘Of course I haven’t answered you,’ he cries. ‘Because it’s a ludicrous question. Am I sleeping with Hannah Parkfield? I mean what am I supposed to—’

  ‘Slater,’ I correct him. ‘She’s Parkfield’s stepdaughter.’

  ‘Well, the very fact that I don’t even know her surname should tell you that of course I’m not sleeping with her. I’m not sleeping with anyone – least of all you!’

  I nod, flushing. ‘Well, that’s not all my fault,’ I say.

  ‘Sorry,’ he says, running a hand over his hair. ‘That was uncalled for. But Kirstie, how could you take the word of a teenage boy over your own husband?’

  ‘
I’m not taking his word for it,’ I reply, ‘I’m asking you, aren’t I?’

  ‘Well I’m telling you, I am not and never have slept with that girl. How old is she anyway?’

  ‘Just turned sixteen.’

  ‘Christ, he’s accusing me of sleeping with a child. I’ll bloody kill him.’

  ‘There’s more,’ I say. ‘You know that “phantom” baby I heard crying?’ I add air quotes to the word phantom.

  ‘What about it?’ Dom asks.

  ‘It’s real. It’s Hannah’s baby and she’s saying it’s yours.’

  Dom’s face turns white. He staggers two paces and sits heavily in one of the flowery armchairs. I almost feel sorry for him. Or I would if I could truly believe he was innocent. But after the last few weeks, I’m just not sure I do.

  Thirty-Seven

  ‘Kirstie, listen to me,’ Dom says, twisting his hands in his lap, his voice almost a whisper. ‘I know I haven’t been whiter than white in the past. But I swear to you that I never slept with that girl. I’ve barely even spoken to her.’

  ‘Then how do you explain this?’ I show him the selfie of him and Hannah on my phone.

  His eyes narrow and his cheeks flush. ‘What the hell?’

  ‘So? Are you still going to deny it?’

  ‘She said it was for some school project about the neighbours. She said she was taking pictures of all of us. I have no idea why she’s pretending to be in a relationship with me! It makes no sense and it’s total bullshit!’

  He looks like he’s telling the truth, but then again, he could just be an extremely good liar.

  ‘For some reason that Carson kid hates me, and now he’s roped Hannah into this – this sick prank,’ Dom continues.

  ‘Or maybe he hates you because you’ve been sleeping with the girl he likes.’

  ‘No! Kirstie, what do I have to do to convince you?’

  ‘That’s the problem,’ I say. ‘I don’t think there’s anything you can do to convince me. I honestly don’t know who to believe.’

  ‘But I’m your husband!’

  ‘Yes, and you took my child away and ran off to your mum and dad’s when I needed you most. You’re asking me to believe you, but you didn’t believe me when I told you I didn’t drink any alcohol yesterday, when I told you that someone must have spiked my beer. Trust goes both ways, Dom. Maybe if you’d listened to me then, I might be more inclined to listen to you now.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Kirstie. You’re right. It’s just, you have to admit, you’ve been acting pretty strange over the past few weeks.’

  ‘Yeah, for a reason. I’ve been worried because I thought someone wanted to snatch Daisy. You know that. And it wasn’t me going mad either – I found out who that voice in the monitor was.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘It was Callum.’

  ‘Callum?’

  ‘He was telling Hannah they should take her baby and leave. It sounded sinister, but it wasn’t. That was the conversation I overheard that night.’

  ‘Are you serious? So those voices you heard were real?’

  ‘I knew you thought I was hearing things!’

  ‘Well, look at it from my point of view, Kirst. It did sound a bit far-fetched.’

  ‘Dom, you don’t trust me and I don’t trust you. Not a great situation for a married couple.’

  ‘Look,’ Dom says, getting to his feet, ‘why don’t I get Daisy and we’ll go home now together. Sort this out. Talk things through properly.’

  So now he’s interested in coming home. Now that his reputation is on the line. ‘No,’ I reply. ‘I think you should stay here for now.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘Because I need some time. I need to think about all this.’

  ‘But you do believe me though, Kirst? About the Slater girl?’

  ‘Honestly? I don’t know.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No.’ I cut him off. ‘Can you go and keep your mum occupied while I get Daisy?’

  ‘Daisy? You’re not taking her—’

  ‘Yes, I’m taking my daughter back home.’ I move towards the lounge door, suddenly keen to be gone.

  ‘But—’

  ‘Don’t try to stop me, Dom. I’ll give you a call when I’ve had time to think about things.’

  ‘Kirst, don’t do this. Don’t let a teenage boy dictate what happens to our marriage. I barely know that girl and I would never lie to you.’

  ‘What about the steroids?’ I ask. ‘Or is he making that up, too?’

  ‘Steroids?’

  ‘Don’t bother denying it.’

  Dom drops his shoulders. ‘Okay. Okay, that’s true. I’ve been taking a little something to boost my performance. I’m not proud of it, but everyone else does it. It’s not actually that big a deal.’

  ‘If it’s not that big a deal, why did you keep it from me?’ I shake my head. ‘You know what? It doesn’t matter. I don’t even care about the drugs right now. What bothers me is that I don’t think I can trust you. What other skeletons in the closet have you got lined up for me?’

  ‘I don’t have anything in any closet. The performance enhancements are the only thing I kept from you, I swear.’

  ‘I hope that’s the truth. But I’m going home with Daisy now. I’ll call you when I’ve had a chance to think.’

  As I leave the lounge, Audrey materialises from the kitchen. ‘You two had your talk? I hope you’ve managed to work things out. Will you stay for lunch, Kirstie?’

  ‘Thanks, Audrey, but I’m off now. Dom!’ I call out, as I head towards the staircase ‘Explain what’s happening to your mum, will you.’

  I can’t wait to fetch my daughter and go home.

  * * *

  It’s 8 a.m., Monday, and Daisy is awake and smiling, babbling away to me in her inflatable ring while I kneel on the lounge carpet, passing her different toys to play with. For the first time in ages, I’ve stopped feeling anxious that there might be someone out there who’s going to break in and snatch my child. Instead, I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. A feeling that my marriage might be over. Whether or not Dom is telling the truth about Hannah Slater, the fact that I don’t trust him says a lot about our relationship.

  Since I saw him yesterday lunchtime, I’ve done nothing but think about Dom and whether or not he’s been cheating on me. A few days ago, I thought he was having an affair with Mel. Now it’s Hannah who’s in the frame. I even think I suspected him of having a fling with Rosa Clifford at one point. So either he’s guilty or I’m paranoid and suspicious. Or maybe it’s simply circumstances conspiring against us. The truth is, I don’t know what to think any more.

  I jerk my head up at a tap on the side window. The knot in my belly tightens. Peering through the glass is Hannah Slater. What does she want? Is she here to admit that she and Dom are having an affair? Is she bringing evidence to show me? Or is she here to deny it once more? Why is she sneaking down the side of my house? Why didn’t she ring the doorbell?

  I stand and gesture towards the front door, but she shakes her head. I open the window. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Is your husband in?’ she asks nervously.

  ‘Dom? No.’

  ‘Can you let me in round the back?’ she asks, glancing behind her.

  ‘Okay. Wait there, I’ll open the side gate.’

  I scoop up my daughter, walk out into the garden and down the side of the house, easing back the rusted bolt on the wooden gate. Hannah is standing there, shifting from foot to foot, her hair tied up in a ponytail, her eyes red and swollen. It makes her look her age, or younger, and my guts roll at the thought of her and my husband together.

  ‘Do you want to come in?’ I ask.

  She bites her lower lip and nods.

  ‘Come on then.’ I walk back through the garden and into the kitchen with Hannah following behind like a little puppy. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  Hannah shakes her head.

  ‘Sit down if you like.’ I gesture
to the chair that Callum sat in yesterday.

  She sits, her hands in her lap, her eyes constantly darting to the window.

  I strap Daisy into her high chair. ‘Why are you here, Hannah?’

  She doesn’t reply.

  ‘Look, why don’t you just tell me the truth. I told you before, I’m not angry with you, I’m angry with my husband.’

  ‘You sure he’s not here?’ she says.

  ‘I promise. He’s at work. And anyway, he’s staying at his mum and dad’s place at the moment, in case you didn’t know.’ I take a seat opposite the girl.

  ‘Did he leave because of me?’ Hannah asks. ‘Because of what Callum said?’ She brings a hand up to her mouth and starts chewing her thumbnail. I notice all her nails are bitten down to the quick, the skin surrounding them chapped and flaking.

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘But you need to tell me the truth about what happened between you and my husband.’

  ‘I can’t,’ she says in a small voice.

  ‘I told you, I won’t be cross. But I really need to know, Hannah. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have no choice. I’ll have to go to the police and report my husband’s actions. If he slept with you when you were underage, there’ll have to be an investigation, a paternity test.’

  Her lower lip trembles and a tear rolls down her cheek. I also notice her hands have begun to shake violently. She sits on them, presumably to stop the shaking. ‘Please don’t tell the police. My dad will go mad.’

  ‘You mean your stepdad or your biological dad?’

  ‘Stephen. He’ll kill me.’

  ‘No he won’t. But if he gets angry, it’s only because he cares about you. Same with your mum. They don’t want you getting into to trouble, that’s all.’

  ‘Bit late for that,’ she says with a bitter laugh.

  ‘So, it’s true then?’ I ask, my heart twisting. ‘You and Dom…’

  More tears slide down her face. She give a loud sniff and turns her face to wipe it on her shoulder.