Chapter Sixteen

I stare into the cot and yank back the blanket that lies there, crumpled on the empty sheet. The baby is gone. The monitor lies silent in my hand, and I drop it into the cot without thinking before turning and running down the stairs, my heart in my mouth.

‘Mina!’ I shout her name as I tumble the last three or four steps down into the hallway, landing awkwardly on my ankle. ‘Shit.’ Pushing myself back onto my feet, I wince, pain shooting up my ankle as I put weight on my foot. Maybe I did see somebody in the garden. Maybe they were watching the house, maybe they left the bones tangled in the tree. No. I shake the thought away, fear plucking at my nerve endings.

‘Mina!’ Calling to her again, I notice that the front door is ever so slightly ajar. Fuck. I know I closed it properly after I came back into the house after finding the bones. Didn’t I? What if I didn’t? What if someone – whoever was watching the house, watching us – has taken the baby, snatched Mina? Images flash through my mind of Agnes Gowdie frantically searching for her baby, of a flash of white through the trees, of a hand reaching out and grasping Mina’s, leading her away down the path towards the road. A sob catches at the back of my throat, and I limp towards the door as fast as I can on my sore ankle.

‘Allie. Allie, it’s OK, I’m here.’ Naomi appears in the doorway to the living room and it takes me a moment to see that the baby lies snuggly in her arms. ‘Jesus, what did you do?’ She looks at my foot, and I follow her gaze to see a fat, blue swelling appearing on my ankle bone.

‘You’ve got the baby.’ Snatching him out of her hands, my nail catches the delicate skin on his cheek, and he lets out a cry. I pull him close to me, kissing the red welt that rises on his cheek before turning my fury on Naomi. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

‘What?’ Naomi blinks. ‘What are you talking about, Allie? He was crying …’

‘You took the baby. Took him out of the cot without even telling me. How did you get in here anyway?’ My eyes go to the door, the thin line of light peeping in where the door doesn’t meet the frame. ‘You let yourself in.’

‘You told me to come. The baby was crying.’ Naomi looks close to tears herself. ‘I knocked and knocked and there was no answer. I knew you must be home because I could hear the baby crying.’

‘I could have been in the bathroom.’