‘Look, Lou,’ Tiff said, putting an arm around her shoulders. ‘Even if Brian was my type, I’d never cross that line. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a husband-snatcher. And I would never go after my best friend’s husband. I’m going to put this down to your sleep-deprived state – and your loopy hormones, like you said – and try not to be deeply hurt that you’d even think such a thing. Now, how about another coffee?’ Her hand slipped from Louisa’s shoulder as she straightened and moved away.

Louisa frowned. Tiff hadn’t denied the text, although she’d put up a convincing argument about how she wouldn’t have an affair with Brian. Because of her reaction Louisa didn’t feel she could carry on the conversation or ask anything more about Friday – not without alienating her further.

There was something more, though, she could sense it.

Louisa realised she only half-believed her best friend. And that didn’t sit well at all.

5

THE REQUEST

Thursday p.m.

Louisa awoke with her head and torso slumped over her lap. She straightened, taking a deep breath as she looked round the room. She was in Noah’s nursery, in the chair.

Her heart gave a jolt. She’d been feeding Noah.

She looked down. He was quiet. Still. Cradled in her arms. She’d fallen asleep over him.

Louisa shook him gently.

Nothing.

She jumped up, holding Noah upright.

A sharp cry.

For a moment she was relieved. But the cry was her own.

‘What is it? What’s the matter?’ Brian crashed through the door, hair ruffled, his face ashen.

‘No – ah …’ Louisa gasped for air, holding the limp baby up towards her husband.

‘What? What about him. He’s quiet, Lou, leave him to sleep.’ Brian’s brow was furrowed.

‘I – I was feeding him, I fell asleep – he’s – he’s not breathing, Brian!’

Brian hit the light switch. A soft yellow illumination filled the small room.

‘Louisa.’ He reached out and took her arms. ‘Louisa, he’s just asleep—’

‘No. I squashed him, look …’ Louisa was afraid to gaze down again, fearful of seeing the damage she’d done. But suddenly her arms felt light.

She looked down.

Noah wasn’t in them.

‘You must’ve been asleep and dreamt it, Lou. He’s fine. He’s in his cot, and he’s breathing. I promise.’ Brian pulled Louisa gently towards the cot and placed her shaking hand on Noah’s chest. ‘See?’

Louisa’s breathing slowed as she felt the steady rise and fall.

Tears of relief slipped down her cheeks. It hadn’t felt like a dream. She’d been certain he was in her arms.

‘Come to bed.’ Brian’s voice – soft, coaxing – relaxed her.