The Babysitter(48)

He’d asked her to explain how she was feeling. After a brief hesitation, Mel had, summarising symptoms she knew only too well: lack of energy, exhaustion, sleeping too much, too little, loss of appetite. She was irritable, easily agitated, apathetic in turns. Each admission tightened the knot of fear inside her. She had problems concentrating and making decisions. Mel ticked all the boxes for the bleak depression she’d thought she’d escaped. The scariest box of all was the feeling that she was unable to look after her own baby. That she might even harm her own baby.

‘And you’re struggling with feelings of guilt?’ Dr Meadows asked astutely, turning towards her. His eyes were full of compassion, with no sign of the judgement Mel had been so worried about. She felt guilty all over again for not seeking help sooner.

Drawing in a long breath, she nodded.

‘Feelings of hopelessness and self-blame? Thoughts of suicide or self-harm?’ he probed gently. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Mrs Cain,’ he added quickly, when Mel dropped her gaze.

Again, Mel nodded. She’d tried not to allow her mind to drift down that path in the dark hours, tried so hard, but seeing the hurt in Mark’s eyes, the confusion, yet perversely feeling compelled to hurt him more because of it, she had started to believe he would be better off without her. Knowing that he’d felt the need to talk to someone else, a female someone else, only compounded those feelings. Mel guessed Mark would never really understand how devastated she’d been, realising he hadn’t been able to talk to her.

Dr Meadows leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled thoughtfully under his chin. ‘I know you’ve struggled with these symptoms on a previous occasion, Melissa. The road to recovery isn’t an easy one, is it?’

‘No.’ Mel agreed wholeheartedly with that. The road she’d travelled had been a long and tortuous one, full of mountains to climb and potholes to trip her up.

‘Half the battle is admitting it, of course,’ he went on. ‘People can be judgemental. It’s human nature, I’m afraid.’ He paused and sighed. ‘Don’t judge yourself through their eyes. That’s the important thing to remember. Postnatal depression is common. If only mental health issues weren’t still thought of as a stigma, I’m sure many women would admit to feeling like you do.’

Would they, Mel wondered. Weren’t new mothers their own harshest judges?

‘We have the technology, we can fix it,’ he joked, winking.

Mel relaxed a little, which was obviously what he’d intended. If only it were that easy, though. ‘A brain transplant, you mean? Perfect.’ She smiled back. It felt good to do that. When did she lose her smile?

‘A short course of antidepressants initially, I think,’ he said. ‘Counselling possibly, if you feel the need to talk. It might help. Is your husband supportive, Mrs Cain?’

‘Yes,’ Mel answered hesitantly. ‘But… he’s been down this road before too.’ She let it hang.

He nodded. ‘If you don’t mind my suggesting, I think you’ll find he’d like to be. He arrived enquiring after you while you were with the nurse. He’s waiting for you.



* * *



Watching Mark’s expression change as he walked across to his child, Melissa felt joy tinged with unbearable, palpable pain. It felt as if her heart might tear apart inside her. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t Mark’s fault. It was her. Her problem. Her stupid, dysfunctional brain.

And now, where once he had been free to walk away, he would feel obliged to stay, because his love for Evie and Poppy was unequivocal. But could he really cope with this? Again?

‘Hey, little miracle,’ he said, taking Evie carefully into his arms and gazing wondrously down at her, as if he couldn’t quite believe her. Mel swallowed a tight lump in her throat.

‘She’s beautiful,’ the nurse said, sighing audibly as Mark bent to place a soft kiss on Evie’s forehead.

Mark smiled, the kind of warm, adoring smile fathers reserve for their children. ‘Like her mother,’ he said throatily, turning to face Mel.

Seeing the love in his eyes, peppered with crushing anxiety, Mel caught a sob in her throat. She had to get better. For Mark’s sake, for her children’s sake, she had to get well.





Thirty-Three





MARK





Unfastening Evie’s car seat, Mark lifted her out, and then breathed a sigh of relief as Mel’s car turned into the drive.

‘Here she is, baby,’ he said softly, waiting for Mel to pull up before he went inside. He couldn’t stay. Lisa had covered for him, but he needed to get back soon. He wished Jade was home. He wished to God Mel wouldn’t insist on driving. The last thing Mark wanted was for Mel to think he was trying to take away her independence, but, in his estimation, she shouldn’t be, particularly with a child in the car. She was exhausted and distracted, and he also feared that she’d started drinking during the day.

As if to demonstrate his point, Mel climbed out of her car, walked past him to the front door, and then went back for her keys. And then back for a second time for Evie’s baby bag.

‘Thanks for coming, Mark. We’ll be fine now,’ she said, walking past him again to unlock the front door. She reached for Evie’s carrier, as if expecting him to hand it over and go back to work.