Page 22 of Daydreams & Doughnut Cake

Thankfully, it was. But as I crossed the road, my heart was thumping fast at the thought of what I might find.

I slowed down as I got nearer. There was no one sitting in the driver’s seat as I’d feared. In fact, there was no one there at all as I looked around me. The street was deserted.

Bemused by what had just happened, I retraced my steps as the gale almost whipped a flying plastic carrier bag in my face. I slipped back inside and closed the door softly but firmly behind me. Then I crept back upstairs to make sure Amelie was okay.

The wind was rattling one of her windows, which was open a crack. It always amazed me how children could sleep through noise like that. When I crossed the room to close it, the floor creaked but she still didn’t stir.

As I pulled the door to, leaving it open just a crack, I started to wonder if maybe my imagination had been playing tricks on me.

Clare’s sudden appearance and the anonymous note had spooked me a lot. Maybe this was the consequence... imagining things in the dark of the night that weren’t even there?

As I headed back downstairs, I was shaking my head at myself for being so melodramatic. I could feel my shoulders relaxing a little now that the panic was over, the doors were locked and we were safe inside.

I was a little surprised to see that the overhead light was on in the kitchen. I preferred the softer glow of a lamp at night butmaybe I’d flicked the switch in my panic when I was peering outside?

Walking in, I froze to the spot in shock...

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The fridge was open and cartons of curry had been pulled out and were strewn over the floor. One of the cartons was stopping the fridge door from closing. It had landed upright, the lid still in place. The sticky label on it said ‘Chicken Korma’.

But the rest lay on the floor in a sticky mess, clearly thrown down with some force because many of the cartons were now leaking their contents.

The lamp was lying on its side on the countertop and my heart gave a lurch of dismay as I saw my beautiful Clarice Cliff vase lying cracked into three pieces on the floor.

Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself and stared in fear and disbelief at the chaos, wondering just how angry a person would have to be with me to do something like this.

The sauce from my rogan josh curry splattered on the floor was the colour of dried blood.

The sound of a door banging pulled me from my trance and – rushing through to the little utility room – I realised with a shock that the back door was open and banging in the wind. Looking out, I saw a dark figure running across the garden. A second later, they scaled the fence and disappeared into the night.

‘Mummy?’

My heart lurched as I turned to find Amelie standing sleepily behind me, clutching her bear.

‘Oh, my love.’ I shut the back door and locked it. Then I gathered her up and carried her through the hall and into the living room, away from the upsetting mess in the kitchen.

The intruder must have entered the house while I was outside in the rain, making sure the van was okay. I’d left the front door open after I’d gone up to check on Amelie and they must have slipped inside then.

So Amelie would have been alone in the house when they were wrecking the kitchen!

The thought of that chilled my blood.

‘Are you okay?’ I murmured into her hair, and she nodded sleepily.

‘Can I please have a drink?’

‘Of course you can.’ I sat her down on the sofa and tucked a throw around her. ‘Back in a minute.’

She seemed okay. Untouched by what had been happening. But as I dashed through to the kitchen for a glass of water, I felt so angry at myself. I should never have left the house... should never have left the front door open like that.

It would have been my fault if anything had happened to Amelie.

I thought about phoning the police to report what had happened but something was holding me back. I had a feeling I knew exactly who my intruder was and getting the police involved would only stir up unwanted memories. I really couldn’t face that...

Amelie had fallen asleep on the sofa, so I carried her upstairs – she was quite a weight now! – and tucked her back into bed. She opened her eyes and murmured, ‘Mummy,’ but she was obviously still half-asleep because she promptly turned over and sank into dreamland again.

I stood there for a moment, gazing down at her flushed cheeks and soft blonde curls, so relieved that my baby girl seemed untouched by all the bad stuff that had happened that night.

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