Page 2 of The Sleepwalker
You came, you saw, you conquered, she thinks as she moves over to the window and pushes back the curtain, overcome by a sudden rush of anxiety. The heavy full moon is low above the treetops, silver and scarred. Down on the driveway, Robert’s rusty car is parked in the shadow of the maple.
‘Has he ever come home early?’ he asks.
‘That doesn’t stop me worrying,’ she replies, turning to him.
‘Come on, I grabbed a bottle of fizz from—’
‘Hang on,’ she cuts him off, raising a hand to her mouth.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, I just realised I turned the key twice.’
‘Why does that matter?’
‘It doesn’t, it’s just me. It’s .?.?. you know, a habit. I want to be able to get in there quickly if I need to,’ she says as she leaves the room.
The hallway is cool and dark.
The vacuum cleaner has been left up against the wall, its cord wrapped around the cylinder.
When she reaches her son’s room, she can’t help but glance back over her shoulder. Robert is in the doorway, and he holds up the bottle of sparkling rosé wine he found in the kitchen. Always so eager. She smiles, gives him a thumbs up and then turns the key counter-clockwise.
The mechanism clicks.
She is just about to press her ear to the door when she hears alow pop from her bedroom.
Robert is standing in a pool of moonlight when she gets back, two full glasses in his hands. He passes one to her and looks deep into her eyes.
They toast, kiss and sip, their shadows dancing eerily over the old communion bell on the wall above the double bed.
‘Mmm,’ she says, sitting down on the edge of the mattress.
On the screen of the baby monitor, the boy’s face is calm, his chest rising and falling beneath the blue covers. The speaker crackles as he moves his hand in his sleep.
Robert drains his glass, sets it down beside the bottle on the chest of drawers and moves over to her. He leans in and gives her a light peck on the lips.
She lowers her glass to the bedside table, puts her hands on his hips and looks up into his intense eyes.
‘What are you thinking about?’ she asks, unable to hide her smile.
‘What do you think?’
Lowering her eyes, she sees that his jeans have started to strain. She kisses the fly softly several times, making him harden even more. The denim is now so taut that the zip is visible.
‘Come on, then,’ she murmurs.
She shuffles back on the bed, pushing a cushion out of the way and lying down with a quick glance at the monitor. In the cold moonlight, her son’s face resembles a leaden egg. Robert undoes his jeans and sways as he kicks them off. He crawls towards her and kisses her pubic mound, his hot breath filtering through her clothes.
She feels a flutter in her stomach as he reaches beneath her dress, pulls down her knickers and parts her thighs.
‘Come here,’ she whispers, eyes darting over to the dark doorway.
He climbs on top of her and kisses her with a smile, and shepants softly as he slowly enters her. Her legs are forced apart, and for a brief, quiet moment, she completely envelops him.
Her nipples harden against the smooth fabric of her bra.
He pulls back and begins thrusting rhythmically, with growing intensity. The headboard knocks against the wall, making the communion bell ring.
