30
SKY
I stay overnightat Tara’s but don’t sleep well; I swear my daughter spent the night practicing gymnastics. Dylan called too. He told me he’d try to finish up early and be home sooner. I’m partly relieved because, despite my refusal to admit this to him, I’m worried about the pains and that he won’t be here for the birth.
Driving becomes more awkward as my belly grows, and concentration takes up all my energy. By the time I return to the London apartment, I’m exhausted and starving. Baby stopped her gymnastic performance, but my aching back won’t ease. The first time I had them I panicked, but my midwife checked me over and explained what they were. The Braxton Hicks cramping stepped up recently, and I resolve to call the midwife again when I’m home, just in case. There’s no pattern to them yet, just a painful reminder what I’ll face in a few weeks.
Right now, I need food and sleep. I open the door to the apartment. The lights are on in the hallway, and a spicy smell drifts from the kitchen. My stomach grumbles, and I smile to myself. I knew Dylan wouldn’t be able to stay away.
I drop my small bag on the low table by the front door and rush towards the kitchen to greet him. I spent last night in a cold bed dreaming his arms were wrapped around me, and right now that’s what I need.
“I didn’t think you’d be home this early,” I say as I step into the kitchen. “You should’ve called.”
Omifreakinggod.
In a scene straight out ofFatal Attraction, Lily stands in the kitchen stirring something in a large saucepan. I half expect her to pull out a rabbit. The tall girl looks around when she hears me and my hiked pulse rate calms slightly when her face is open and friendly.
“Hey, Sky.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask and steady myself on the door as frozen panic interferes with my instinct to run.
“Making dinner. Somebody needs to look after you when Dylan goes away. He really shouldn’t, not just before the baby is due.”
“Please leave, you shouldn’t be in here,” I say softly. How the hell did she break into the apartment?
“Wow, look at you.” She points at my belly with a wooden spoon covered in a dark sauce. “You look huge!”
“Lily—”
“I didn’t realise how long it’s been since I saw you. Time flies, hey? Did you get my gifts? I wasn’t sure because you never replied,” she burbles, waving the spoon around.
I tense as she approaches, but Lily sweeps past me and into the next room.Leave. Call somebody. Police? Shit. Before I can pull myself together, she returns with a blue and red gift bag.
“I thought if I brought the gift myself this time, I’d know you received it.” She thrusts the bag at me, and I numbly take it. “Go on, take a look.”
With shaking hands, I open the bag and look inside. Clothes. Lily takes the bag and pulls out the tiny dress. “Won’t she look gorgeous in this?”
“She?”
“You are having a girl, aren’t you?”
“I think you should leave,” I say, dragging myself together. “You shouldn’t be here. Dylan would—”
“Dylan’s in France, isn’t he? That’s why I’m here. I want to look after you.”
I search her face for any sign of malice, but there’s none. A warm happiness surrounds her, as if she really believes she should—and can—be here.
“How did you get into my apartment?”
“With my key, silly. The one you gave me.”
I rub my head as the surreality grows. I misplaced a key once and told security, but somebody finding it never crossed my mind. Nothing was attached to the key to identify me and the building’s security is tight.
“I’m tired, Lily. It’s very nice of you to drop by, but I’d rather be on my own.” I force a smile, mind cycling through my options. Police. I need to call the police.
“Oh, and Jem called,” she continues, oblivious to the real world.
“Jem?”