The baby was asleep in there, in the room close to her own.
The baby.
She felt tears welling up once more and, this time, they spilled down her cheeks. Her body was racked by a series of uncontrollable sobs which, no matter how hard she tried, she could not disguise. A second later there was a light tap on the bathroom door.
‘Toni,’ the voice asked. ‘Are you all right?’
She choked back her sobs with a monumental effort and wiped her face with a flannel.
‘Toni.’ The voice was low but more insistent.
She crossed to the door and slid.back the bolt, opening it slightly.
Vicki Barnes stood before her, her long, thick blonde hair uncombed, her eyes puffy from tiredness.
Even models could look ordinary at three in the morning.
‘I was just checking on the baby,’ Vicki whispered. ‘I heard you crying.’
Toni shook her head.
‘I’m OK now,’ she lied, sniffing.
‘Come on,’ Vicki urged, taking her hand. ‘Let’s go downstairs. I’ll make us both a cup of coffee. I can’t sleep either.’
i know,’ Toni said, managing a slight smile. ‘I heard you.’
Vicki raised her eyebrows and shrugged.
‘Sorry,’ she smiled. ‘Paul says I should wear a gag when we have guests.’
The two women made their way across the landing, past the baby’s room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Once there Vicki filled the electric kettle and plugged it in. In the cold white light of the fluorescents she could see how pale Toni looked, how dark her eyes were, the whites streaked with veins.
Vicki was two years younger than her friend. They’d met back in the mid-seventies when Vicki had been on a modelling assignment in New York. The bond between them had grown steadily since then and Toni had been Matron of Honour when Vicki had married a record producer three years earlier. The actress was also Godmother to their child, Dean, now almost fourteen months old.
‘Vicki, do you ever think about dying?’ asked Toni, staring straight ahead.
The model looked shocked.
‘No,’ she said, softly. ‘Why do you ask?’
i never used to, not until …” The sentence trailed off as she bowed her head. Vicki got up and stood beside her friend, snaking an arm around her shoulder.
‘Don’t talk about it,’ she said.
Toni reached for a tissue in her housecoat pocket and, as she did, the bottle of Mogadon fell to the floor. Vicki spotted it first and picked it up.
She understood immediately.
is this your answer, Toni?’ she asked quietly, replacing the bottle on the table in front of the actress.
‘I’m not sure I want to go on without Rick,’ said the American, her voice cracking. She clenched her fists. ‘He was all I had. He meant everything to me. Vicki, if you’d seen that … thing the other night.’
‘You mean at the seance?’
Toni nodded.
‘He was there,’ she paused for a moment, trying to compose herself, i know it was Rick. He looked the way he did when I had to identify him, just after it
happened. After the accident. That was my son,’ she said, tears running down her cheeks.
‘No one’s saying you haven’t got a right to feel the way you do. But this isn’t the answer.’ Vicki held up the bottle of tablets. ‘And before you beat me to it, I know it’s easy for me to say.’
Toni didn’t speak.
‘Please Toni, for Rick’s sake, think about it.’
The American nodded.
‘I’m frightened, Vicki,’ she admitted. ‘When I get back to the States, I don’t know how I’m going to be able to go inside that house again. There are too many memories there.’
‘You’ll do it. If I have to come with you, you’ll do it.’
Toni smiled thinly. The other girl got to her feet and kissed her gently on the cheek. They held each other for long moments.
‘Thank you,’ Toni whispered.
i wish there was more I could do,’ Vicki said. She stepped back. ‘Do you want to go back to bed now? If not I’ll sit up with you.’
‘You go, I’ll be OK,’ Toni assured her.
‘And these?’ Vicki held up the bottle of tablets.
‘Take them with you.’
The model slipped them into her hand and made for the kitchen door.
‘See you in the morning, Toni.’
The actress heard footfalls on the stairs as her friend made her way up the steps. For what seemed like an eternity, Toni sat in silence, sipping at her coffee then, finally, she got to her feet, rinsed the cup and wandered out of the kitchen, flicking the light off behind her.
As she reached the landing she trod more softly, not wanting to disturb her hosts. The house was silent. The only thing which she heard was her own low breathing.
Toni paused outside the nursery, looking at the door as if she expected to see through it. She reached for the handle, hesitated a second then turned it. She stepped inside and
closed it gently behind her.
The cot stood in the far corner of the room. On a table close to her was a small lamp which bathed the room in a warm golden glow. The walls were painted light blue, the lower half decorated with a kind of mural showing teddy bears riding bikes, flying aircraft and climbing trees. It had, she guessed, been painted by Vicki’s husband.
A profusion of soft toys littered the floor near to the cot. A huge stuffed penguin in particular fixed her in the unblinking stare of its glass eyes and she saw her own distorted reflection in them as she approached the cot.
The child was awake but made no sound, he merely lay on his back gazing wonderingly up at her with eyes as big as saucers.
Toni smiled down at him, chuckling softly as he returned the gesture. She took one tiny hand in hers and shook it gently, feeling the little fingers clutching at her.
The baby gurgled happily and Toni reached down and ran her fingertips over the smooth skin of his chubby face, stroking the gossamer strands of his hair before moving her fingers to his mouth. She traced the outline of his lips with her nail, smiling at the little boy as he flailed playfully at the probing digit. His mouth opened wider and he gurgled.
Suddenly, with a combination of lightning speed and demonic force, Toni rammed two fingers into the child’s mouth, pressing down hard as her nails raked the back of its throat.
The baby squirmed and tried to scream but the sound was lost, gurgling away into a liquid croak as blood began to fill the soft cavity.
With her free hand she clutched the child’s head, holding it steady as she forced another finger into its mouth, hooking them inside its throat until it gagged on its own blood and the intruding fingers.
As Toni pushed a fourth finger into the blood-filled orifice, the soft skin at
each side of the baby’s mouth began to rip. Toni was pressing down so hard it seemed that she would push the child through the bottom of the cot.
Blood splashed her hand and flooded on to the sheet, staining it crimson and still she exerted yet more pressure, grunting loudly at the effort. The baby had long since ceased
to move.
Toni lifted it from its cot, her fingers covered in blood, some of which ran up her arm to stain her housecoat. She held the child before her, gazing into its sightless eyes.
She was still holding the child when the door of the nursery was thrown open.
Toni turned slowly to face Vicki Barnes and her husband, both of whom stood transfixed by the sight before
