The Babysitter(78)

Mark glanced down. He didn’t seem to mind her hand there. ‘She could have done,’ he said, his tone hoarse, as if he were holding back tears. ‘I shouldn’t have left her.’

The kettle boiled behind them. Jade smiled again affectionately and turned to it. She had no idea what to say to him. Words couldn’t make his pain go away. He needed comfort, holding. He needed to be loved. To be needed. She was treacherously close to telling him the truth; that bitch had never wanted him for more than his seed, his money, his status. That she’d used him, mercilessly. Never loved him. Not like Jade loved him.

‘Chocolate?’ she said instead, the kettle poised over a mug.

‘What?’ Mark looked up distractedly. ‘Oh. No, thanks.’ Smiling sadly, he turned to the lounge.

For something stronger, Jade suspected, and she didn’t blame him. How she wished she could sit next to him, lie next to him, press her ear to his chest and listen to his poor heart beating. Sighing, she popped two pills into Melissa’s hot chocolate, stirred longingly, and then froze. The hot chocolate wasn’t dairy-free, was it?





Fifty-Five





MELISSA





‘Poppy, shuffle over, sweetie.’ Mel came out of the bathroom, where she’d finally managed to rinse the colour from her hair, to find Poppy lying sideways across the bed.

‘Poppy?’ Glancing at her through the mirror as she gave her new copper locks a last rub with the towel, Mel guessed she must have fallen asleep – not surprisingly, after the evening’s events. She knew, in her heart, that Mark would never hurt their daughter. And she’d done it herself, dashed out of the bathroom for a towel or a toy, she thought guiltily. She hadn’t admitted that to Mark, of course. She didn’t want to give him any more ammunition to use against her.

Why was he doing this? Mel paused, gulping back the heartache, the horror and disbelief that she could have been so terrifyingly wrong about him. Why didn’t he just go? Be with Lisa, if that’s what he wanted? Accept that, in destroying his marriage, he’d be giving up his children? He was crushing her, little by little. Killing her. She hated him for it. Hated herself for allowing him to.

‘Poppy, come on, my lovely,’ she whispered to her daughter, who was well and truly asleep. Mel walked across to her, bending to ease her around. And she stopped dead, her heart lurching violently in her chest.

‘Poppy!’

Her lips were swollen. She wasn’t breathing properly.

‘Poppy!’ Mel screamed, hoisting her into her arms. ‘Mark!’

Hearing a distinct wheeze in her chest – Please, God, no, not my baby! – Mel turned, nausea sweeping through her, her heart beating as though trying to burst from her body.

Mark banged through the door before she’d reached it.

‘Jesus Christ! What’s happened?’ He reached immediately for Poppy.

Mel didn’t protest, but fed her into his arms. ‘I don’t know. I thought she was asleep. I… She…’ She gulped back a sob. ‘She must have eaten something. I don’t know.’

‘She has a rash.’ Mark’s eyes flicked quickly over Poppy. ‘Fetch her auto-injector.’

Shocked, Mel was frozen to the spot.

‘Mel. Go!’ Mark shouted urgently, bending to lower Poppy quickly to the floor.

Mel turned, and flew. They had several. Emergency supplies. Where? She tried to fit her disjointed thoughts together in her head. Bathroom. Poppy’s schoolbag. Handbag! Her gaze falling on her bag hanging from the en suite door, she seized on it, fumbling with it until finally turning it over and spewing the contents on to the floor.

Clutching two EpiPens, she raced back to where Mark was putting Poppy in the recovery position. Her throat hard and tight, Mel watched him. His face was pale, but his movements were precise and calm. Her own hands shaking, her legs feeling as if they might fail to support her, Mel passed him the pen. Mark injected it, straight through Poppy’s pyjamas and into her thigh.

‘Mark?’ Jade appeared, hovering uncertainly behind him on the landing. ‘Oh my God, what’s happened?’

‘Dial 999,’ Mark instructed, his gaze still on Poppy as he held the EpiPen in place for the required ten seconds. Would Mel have remembered to do that?

‘Just say anaphylaxis. A child,’ Mark added, as Jade punched the number into her mobile. His tone was quiet but authoritative, his expression taut with worry as he pulled the injector pen out, concentrating his efforts now on massaging Poppy’s small thigh.

‘Baby?’ Mel dropped to her knees, stroking Poppy’s sweat-dampened hair back from her face.

‘Come on, baby. You can do this,’ Mark said, his voice cracking as he gently took their daughter’s tiny hand in his own.

He closed his eyes briefly, massaged her back, checked his watch, trying to stay composed, Mel knew. ‘We need to know what’s caused it,’ he said, checking his watch again. ‘The ice cream?’

Mel shook her head. ‘No. It’s safe.’ She could barely get the words out. But what? Searching frantically through her sluggish mind, Mel tried to think. She hadn’t had anything that might cause… ‘Oh no.’ Poppy had chocolate stains around her mouth.

Mel scrambled to her feet and stumbled to the bedside table, and her insides turned over. But… Poppy wouldn’t. ‘The drinking chocolate,’ she said shakily, cold fear running the length of her spine as she turned back to her unconscious child. ‘She’s—’