Louisa’s bleary eyes took a moment to focus; her mind took even longer. Where was she? Why was Brian shouting at her?

‘For fuck’s sake, Lou.’ Her body jiggled again, this time, more violently. She was in bed. Brian was making a meal of getting out of it – the mattress bouncing with each exaggerated movement.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice thick with sleep.

She wasn’t sure what she was meant to be sorry for.

‘When did he last have a bottle?’ Brian’s silhouette could just be made out as he sat on the edge of the bed, hastily pulling on what she presumed were his jogging bottoms.

‘Erm …’ She rubbed her fingertips against her temples, willing herself to remember. ‘It feels like I’ve slept so solidly. What time is it?’

‘Four. So, did you feed him at midnight?’ His patience, what little he seemed to have for her lately, was wearing thinner with each passing second.

‘I – I think, it was … no.’ Louisa sat up, her disorientation beginning to pass. ‘Ten. It was not long after Emily finally got home.’

‘I’ll heat up a bottle then, I guess.’

Louisa didn’t have the energy to argue. Brian would need to be up for work in two hours; it wasn’t fair to let him feed Noah. She collapsed back, her head hitting the pillow. She pulled the duvet up to her neck, turned to face the window and closed her eyes.

Screaming.

Blood.

A heap of clothes? Or a motionless body.

Silence.

Her heartbeat crashing against her ribcage; legs wobbly.

Cool grass, tickling her feet.

I don’t care what you did.

The music loud in her ears.

As long as you still love me.

‘Louisa. Lou. You’re dreaming, sweetheart.’

Louisa came to with a start. Her head was groggy, as though she’d taken her tablets before bed, but she’d thrown them all in the bin days ago, so she had no idea why she felt so out of it.

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be. It’s becoming a regular thing for you lately.’

‘Did you feed Noah and come back to bed? What time is it now?’

‘I didn’t feed Noah,’ Brian said, his eyes squinting at Louisa.

‘But you were shouting at me because he was crying … then you got up, said you’d give him a bottle.’

Louisa watched as a flicker of concern passed across his face.

‘You must’ve dreamt it. Does that mean Noah hasn’t been fed overnight?’

‘It was too real to be a dream, Brian. Are you messing with me?’ An overwhelming wave of anxiety hit her, making her breath catch.