Escaping the Darkness by Sarah Preston Read Free Book Online

and when I wasn’t busy in the house I spent time in the garden. I loved being outdoors, especially when new plants were unfolding before my eyes, springing into life to give me another season of deliciously scented pleasure. I had decided to grow some sweet peas this year and they were busy scrambling to find their way up the netting on the fence, each one racing against the other for the best spot to catch each new ray of sunshine. If only my path was that easily mapped out, I would have found it so much easier. Instead, mine was filled with anxiety, dread and fear of how people would react to this shocking news if – andwhen – I ever gained enough courage to tell those who mattered to me.
By Friday the waiting was proving to be too much for me. Every time the phone rang, I jumped. It had been a particularly busy morning, and it was one of those days when the phone had never stopped ringing. Sam had called twice, my mother three times and Maria also phoned to see if I wanted to call in for a coffee once the afternoon playgroup session had started. As I put the receiver down, the darn thing sprang into life again with its desperate, incessant ring sounding louder than ever, demanding attention with each agitated, shrill tone. As I lifted up the receiver and put it to my ear, this unfamiliar cheery voice on the other end said:
‘Hello, is that Sarah Preston?’
‘Yes it is.’
‘Hi there. My name is Bess Meyer, your doctor asked me if I would contact you so we could chat.’
My immediate thought was one of relief. Talking over the phone, that’s good; at least I wouldn’t have to face anyone new. However, I was quickly brought back to reality by Bess’s next words:
‘Can I call on Monday to see you, at about ten thirty, will that be okay?’
‘Yes that’s fine, I’ll be here.’ I told her.
‘Can you just tell me whereabouts you are, Sarah? I’m not sure if I know Ashleigh all that well.’
I gave Bess clear, precise directions over the next few minutes, speaking slowly while she noted them down.Once I finished, she repeated them to me, making sure she hadn’t missed anything. Afterwards she said goodbye, and once more the phone sat in uninterrupted silence, redundant at last.
As I sat on the settee thinking about Monday, I felt a little shaky. My stomach churned with nervousness and I found myself rushing to the loo because of all the anxiety and unease I felt deep inside. I hoped that my nerves would ease as quickly as the stress had begun; I didn’t want to feel like this for the whole of the weekend.
Before I knew it, the weekend was over. Sam was once more starting another week of work and the boys were all back at school. It had been a particularly hectic morning because we were all up late the night before. Regardless of this, Sam left for work on time and I was back from taking the boys to school. It was 9.15, and in the hour that followed, the tidying up had been done and I just had to put Timothy in his cot for a nap. I had even managed to get some washing in the machine with a quarter of an hour to spare before Beth’s arrival. Over the next few minutes the house was filled with the sound of the washing machine groaning at me whilst it was whirring into action; deep inside, that machine knew it was another day of hard work once again. I mean when did the washing machine ever not go on in this house? The only time it wasn’t contributing to the noises in our home was when it was broken.
Then I looked at the clock: 10.20. Where had those last fifteen minutes gone? It was only a short time laterthat the bell rang. I looked out of the window. There was a dark blue car parked further down the road, about five or six down from my house. As I glanced round from the road to the front door, a woman was standing there with a file of papers held under her arm. This must be her – this must be Bess.
I quickly looked in the mirror: my hair needed combing. I looked like I’d been dragged through a hedge