Page 52 of The Perfect Son
“Hang on,” Shelley says. “I wanted to ask about last week and our trip to Manningtree. How are you feeling about what happened?”
I wonder if Shelley is talking about the man in the black baseball cap who followed me, or my panic attack in the shop, but I don’t ask. What difference does it all make now?
The more days that pass, the more the moths feast on mymemories, the less real it all seems. “I’m fine. I think you’re probably right. I think it was just in my head.”
Shelley nods. “It happens, Tess.”
“I’ll get you some bedding.” I make a move to stand but Shelley’s hand is on my arm.
“In a minute. Drink your hot chocolate while it’s still hot,” she says.
So I do.
CHAPTER 30
Thursday, March 15
24 DAYS TO JAMIE’S BIRTHDAY
Iam yanked from the depths of sleep suddenly and unwilling. My eyes feel sewn shut. I listen for the noise of whatever disturbed me but there is only silence. Sleep is already dragging me back into its depths but somewhere in the deep fog I know something woke me.
The faceless man in Manningtree flashes behind my eyes and I force them open and stare out into the pitch-black room.
My fingers fumble for my phone. I squint against the bright light of the display screen until I register the time: 3:05 a.m. I should check on Jamie. I wonder if he’s fallen out of bed like he did on his first night in this house, when he turned in his sleep, expecting to meet the wall of his small bedroom in Chelmsford and finding the floor of his new bedroom instead.
I feel dopey as I fumble out of the covers I’m twisted in and stumble to the floor. Goose bumps crawl like insects over my skin but the cold does nothing to shake the thick film of sleep.
The hall is swaying—a boat on choppy seas—one way, then the other. Except it’s not the walls and the floor that are moving, it’s me. I am the one swaying. I cling to the wall with both hands, planting my bare feet one after the other, fighting the vertigo that is pushing me downward.
I’m aware of a growing panic in the back of my mind. Something is wrong with me. But the thought is hidden behind a wall of thick fog.
It’s only when I slump my weight against the doorframe of Jamie’s room that I hear her voice and the soft, mellifluous lullaby she is singing.
Jamie’s blue nightlight seems too bright against the black hallway as I push open the door and blink the room into focus.
Shelley is sitting on the edge of Jamie’s bed. His eyes are closed but I can’t tell if he’s asleep or awake.
Shelley’s face in the soft light is angelic and loving as she stares down at our son and starts to sing again.
“Your mumma loves you, oh yes I do
I’ll always be with you whenever you fall
I’ll pick you up, I’ll help you out
Never have a single doubt that your mumma loves you, oh yes I do
Your mumma loves you, oh yes I do”
The tune is enchanting and I’m mesmerized, dumbfounded by the sweetness. Then the words filter into my consciousness and I must make a sound in my throat because Shelley’s head jerks around, her eyes no longer filled with love but with something dark and hateful.
The awareness is back—something is very wrong—but it is no longer hidden in the haze of sleep but staring at me with black eyesthat make the room spin like a carousel before me. My hand fumbles for the doorframe but all I find is empty space and suddenly I’m falling to the floor and into a cloying darkness.
The next time I wake I am not dragged from sleep but clawing my way out of it. A heady dopiness cloaks my waking thoughts, making the memory of the night feel dreamlike.
My mouth is bone-dry and it hurts to swallow. I touch a finger to my lips and find them cracked and sore.
I look around me for a glass of water but all I see is my phone on the bedside table. Just then it vibrates against the wood. My arm feels achy and heavy as I reach for it and focus my eyes on the message from Shelley:Hey Tess, thanks again for letting me crash on the sofa. I had a really nice evening! Sorry to leave so early. I’m getting a swim in before work. xx P.S. You never told me you sleepwalked. I found you wandering the upstairs in the early hours.
