The Couple at No. 9(94)

It was a stark reminder of her past and I swallowed the uneasy feeling that lodged in my chest every time she mentioned prison. Not that she did often. And never in front of you.

You loved the new tiles – they were very country cottage with cartoon pigs and sheep on them but they brightened up the dingy kitchen.

The next day, a Wednesday, Daphne came with me to walk you to playschool because it was her day off. There was a fireworks display that evening and she was desperate for us to go. I was a bit worried about taking you – you’d never seen a firework before and I was concerned they would frighten you – but Daphne convinced me that it would be fun, even though I hated large crowds.

We watched you skip in with Miss Tilling.

‘Listen, Daph, about tonight,’ I began. ‘Do you think Lolly’s a bit young –’

We were interrupted by Melissa, who was heading out of the café and barrelling towards us with a polystyrene cup in her hand. ‘Hello, ladies,’ she said, and looked pointedly at our held hands. Embarrassed, I moved away from Daphne, although she was wearing a defiant expression. I know she would have continued to hold my hand, not caring what Melissa thought. Melissa could have been no older than late forties yet she was so old-fashioned in her outlook on life. She’d never understand our relationship.

‘Rose, I’m glad I caught you,’ she said, ignoring Daphne completely. ‘A man came into the café on Monday looking for you.’

My heart stopped. ‘Really? Did he … give a name?’

She shook her head. ‘No. He just asked if I knew you.’

‘What did he look like?’

She seemed to consider this for a few seconds. ‘Well, handsome, I suppose. Dark hair. Tall.’

Victor. It had to be him.

‘Did you tell him …’ I swallowed, my throat dry ‘… anything?’

She gave me a pitying look. ‘No, of course not.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, in a rush of fondness towards her. ‘Thank you so much.’

She patted my arm reassuringly. ‘Seemed very charming too. But,’ her expression clouded ‘he appeared determined to find you, Rose.’

I fought back tears. I sensed Daphne moving closer to me. ‘Please,’ I said, my voice shaky. ‘Please don’t tell him anything about me.’

Melissa searched my face with her currant-like eyes. ‘Of course I won’t,’ she said seriously.

I thanked her and walked off before I could hyperventilate in front of her.

‘Do you think it’s Victor?’ Daphne whispered by my shoulder. She had to run to keep pace with me.

‘Who else is it going to be?’ I snapped, then felt guilty at the hurt on her face. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just …’ I let out a sob ‘… he’s found me. After three fucking years he’s found me.’

‘Rose, calm down, you’re scaring me. Stop!’ She grabbed my arm. ‘Stop,’ she said again, gentler this time. By now we were halfway up the hill towards the cottage. There was nobody else around but I shuddered as though Victor was behind us. ‘Listen, it was two days ago now. He’s probably gone home. Where does he live?’

‘Yorkshire,’ I said, wiping away tears. It was where Audrey and I had lived, to be near her family. I’d been happy there until I met him.

‘Right. So maybe he came here, but nobody said anything so he went home again.’

‘I – I don’t know, but that doesn’t sound like Victor. If he thinks I’m here he won’t give up.’

She took my hand. ‘Come on, let’s get home and talk about it. If you want me to pick Lolly up later I will. He won’t know what I look like, will he?’

I nodded and let her lead me home. Once inside she sat me at the pine kitchen table and made me a cup of tea. ‘We can move, if you want?’ she said, handing me a mug and sitting beside me. We still had our coats and boots on.

‘I can’t sell the cottage. Especially now with – with …’ I couldn’t bring myself to say Neil’s name. We were trapped there.

‘We could rent it out then? Move somewhere else. A city. Easier to hide in.’

‘What if someone found … him?’

‘If we rented it out we wouldn’t let any tenant dig up the garden. We’d put that in the lease.’

Nausea washed over me. ‘Daph, I need to be honest with you. About Victor.’

She pushed her fringe out of her face. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He … We were never romantically involved. We never had sex. He was my doctor.’

‘Your doctor? I don’t understand.’

‘He was my fertility doctor. But he …’ I gulped. I’d tried so hard to put him out of my mind these past three years. The betrayal I’d felt. The fear. It was all still so raw. The threats he made to take you away. ‘He did something awful.’

She reached across the table for my hand. ‘What – what did he do?’

‘He tricked me.’

‘How?’

It was a relief to reveal the secret I’d been hiding all these years. So I told her everything.

Nearly four years ago Audrey and I had gone to Dr Victor Carmichael’s clinic in Harrogate for fertility treatment. He’d seemed so nice, so caring as we explained our predicament, assuring us he had helped same-sex couples before. Once an anonymous donor was chosen he booked me in for the procedure. Audrey and I had always agreed I’d be the one to carry the baby.