The Stranger in Our Bed. Samantha Lee Howe

doctor says you have concussion. You’ll have to stay in overnight,’ Tom said.

      ‘But … the baby?’

      ‘That’s all okay, dear,’ Isadora said.

      I closed my eyes tight. Tears leaked out of the corners anyway.

      ‘There, there. It’s all going to be okay. But you’ll have to be careful for a few days,’ Isadora cooed.

      I drifted back to sleep as their voices floated down with me.

      ‘You see,’ said Isadora. ‘What a silly thing to assume she did it on purpose.’

      ‘Yes, Mother. It’s just … a witness told the police.’

      I awoke in a white room, disorientated and scared. And then I realized I must have been moved from the A & E department. I looked to my left, saw the mandatory monitors. I wasn’t hooked up to anything though. I raised my hand to my face; I had the headache of all headaches.

      I’d hit the floor on this side and my arm had borne the brunt of my weight: it was a mass of bruises. Yes, I’d been lucky. This could have been so much worse. At least I hadn’t broken anything. I put my hand on my stomach. Was the baby really okay?

      I tried to sit up, but the headache brought on a bout of nausea. I looked around for a receptacle of any kind; instead I found the nurse’s call button. I pressed it, swallowing back bile and gagging on it.

      A nurse hurried in; she reached for a paper bowl, helped me sit and held it under my chin. I vomited until my stomach wrenched.

      When the nausea passed, I flopped back down on the bed.

      ‘It’s normal in your condition,’ said the nurse. ‘Plus with a head injury like that …’

      My throat seized up and I couldn’t talk.

      ‘Don’t worry. You’re in safe hands. Your husband moved you here to recuperate. Got to look after your precious cargo after all!’

      I learnt that I had been moved to a private hospital. It seemed impossible that I had been so unconscious that I hadn’t realized, but it had happened and now I was being looked after with the best possible attention.

      The doctor came in.

      ‘All is well, Mrs Carlisle, with your pregnancy. But that head injury was quite severe. Hence why we are looking after you for a few days.’

      ‘A few days?’ I queried. ‘The A & E doctor said I only needed an overnight stay.’

      ‘Well, I’m a specialist in this area. I feel we need to monitor you longer.’

      Like the other controlling elements in my life, the doctor shot me down with his better knowledge.

      I woke up three days later and opened the window to look out on the grounds. I was stronger today, ready to return home and escape the watchful eyes of the nurse. I had barely been permitted to walk to the en suite bathroom without a nurse beside me over the past few days. But gradually the head injury had improved. I was eating better now and even the morning sickness had subsided.

      The nurse had told me to eat something in the mornings before I got out of bed and it had helped.

      When the doctor entered my room, I was waiting for him. ‘I’m ready to go home today,’ I said.

      He wouldn’t meet my eye. ‘No,’ he replied.

      I frowned. ‘Why? I’m perfectly well enough. The scan on my head was clear—’

      ‘Your husband and mother-in-law would like you to remain. To make sure—’

      ‘To make sure of what?’ I asked.

      The doctor smiled. ‘Soon, Mrs Carlisle. We have to make sure that there have been no adverse effects on the baby.’

      ***

      Five days had passed since my arrival and I was beginning to feel paranoid and suspicious. After breakfast I was alone in my room reading, wondering what Tom was doing with his day. He and Isadora had visited me regularly, but I felt distant from them. It was probably a hangover from the head injury. I resented them both, and their decision-making that never took what I wanted into consideration. I still hadn’t got a sensible answer from the doctor about my condition. He often said, ‘I’ll explain this to your husband,’ or, ‘your mother-in-law would like you to rest.’ It was as though I was being held prisoner – maybe until my baby was delivered safely. A ridiculous thought, but one I couldn’t ignore. As I turned to the next page of the book I couldn’t remember the previous pages I’d read: my mind unable to focus on the words. I put the paperback down beside me on a small table by the chair. I was frustrated and bored. I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever leave this place when there was a sharp knock at my door and the nurse entered.

      ‘Your husband is collecting you today,’ she said with a smile. ‘I expect you’ll be glad to go home.’

      I felt a rush of relief as my phobia abated. I stood up, bumping the table and the book fell to the floor. I bent to retrieve it. My palms felt suddenly sticky, as another odd feeling took over, something akin to agoraphobia. The hospital room had become a buffer to my ordinary life. Now I’d have to return to it, and to Tom and especially to Isadora.

      ‘Perhaps I should stay on another day …’ I said with a shaky laugh.

      ‘Yes,’ she laughed too, but it sounded forced. ‘It’s a bit like living in a five-star hotel this place, isn’t it?’

      I wasn’t sure I agreed, but knew that this hospital had every luxury a private hospital could have.

      Tom arrived with his chauffeur, Stefan, and I was pushed out to the limo in a wheelchair, even though I told them I was fine to walk.

      ‘Stop being stubborn,’ Tom said. ‘We’re looking after you. You deserve it.’

      The idea of further argument exhausted me and I fell silent and let them help me into the back of the car as if I was an invalid.

      ‘How’s your head feeling?’ Tom asked once we were both in the limo.

      ‘I’m fine. Really. Please don’t worry.’

      He took my hand and kissed my fingers. ‘I’m so glad we can finally take you home. I’ve been so worried about you.’

      Isadora had hired a home help, a young Polish girl to help clean and do all of the cooking for me. I was not to do anything until I was fully recovered.

      ‘And anyway,’ she said, ‘I never understood why you wanted to clean your own house. It ruins your fingernails and spoils your hands.’

      ‘I like cleaning,’ I said. ‘It’s part of my fitness regime.’

      ‘Well, there’s none of that nonsense for now,’ said Isadora. ‘After the baby comes … well there will be plenty of time to get back into shape. I’ll find you a trainer when the time is right.’

      She didn’t see me roll my eyes.

       Chapter Four

      I was dreaming of swimming, gliding serenely through a warm lake. The shore ahead, the aqua blue sky reflected above. Then I felt that first fatal cramp. The pain struck so deeply through my core – a white hot pain. Sheer agony, as the dream faded and changed. I was drowning now, my limbs like lead, holding me down as I sank like a heavy rock to the bottom of the ocean.

      ‘Char … Char, wake up!’

      I opened my eyes. Tom was staring into my face with a look of concern.

      ‘It was just a nightmare,’ I said.

      ‘You were crying out.’