Read I Do Not Sleep for Free Online Page A

I could justify my experience in that muddy old field. I had to forget about it. Sleep seemed the quickest route back to sanity.

Upstairs at Coombe, I felt enveloped in the cosiness of the bedroom. It really did feel like home, with every comfort provided – a huge four-poster bed, red and blue Persian rugs on the old oak wooden floor, chintz-covered armchairs dotted round in the wide window alcoves, soft floral curtains to protect against the night. It felt like an enormously generous environment, welcoming me with warmth and open arms. I sank into the soft mattress, pulling the duvet over me. I was still fully dressed apart from my shoes, but I didn’t care. Sleep beckoned from every corner. Oblivion called me with a calm promise of escape; the only possible respite after a horrible, nasty day.

I woke to the sound of the telephone ringing insistently downstairs. I could hear Adam’s muffled voice as he picked up. Moments later, as I tried to surface after a dark and murky nap that had done nothing to restore my sense of well-being, Adam appeared at the end of the bed. Cautiously he whispered, ‘Molly? Are you awake?’

‘Yes. What’s wrong?’ Like every mother, and now more than ever, I always assumed unexpected telephone calls meant trouble. No longer would I make the mistake of taking a surprise call in a sunny garden and naively expecting nothing more than a happy little chat about the weather in Cornwall.

‘It’s OK, but Danny’s panicking. The Looe doctor referred them to the hospital in Plymouth. He was worried about Edie’s cough. Now the hospital says they want to keep the baby in overnight. They think she might have croup, and they’re admitting her as a precaution. Danny and Lola are going to stay with her, but I think he needs to talk to you. You know, as his mum, just to calm him down.’

Worried, I sat up, drank some water from the glass on my bedside table and heaved the bedclothes aside. I picked up the handset from Adam’s side of the bed.

Danny sounded flustered, but relieved to hear my voice. The doctors thought Edie was fine, he said, but her breathing was laboured and they wanted to monitor her overnight. Danny said he and Lola would stay with her, sleeping in campbeds by her side.

I tried to reassure him, though I felt a little shaken by this turn of events. ‘Look, sweetie. She’s in the safest possible place. She’ll be fine; don’t worry. Do you want me and Dad to come to the hospital to be with you and Lola?’

‘No, Mum. I appreciate it, but there’s no point. I’ll ring you if there’s a problem; otherwise stay put. You and Dad can have a night to yourselves.’

Now there was a novelty, I thought: Adam and me, on our own on a family holiday. That had never happened before. Cornwall meant the Gabriels en masse; demanding children ruled the roost when we were down here, whether they were tiny or grown-up.

I told Adam what Danny had said. ‘Are you worried about the baby?’ he asked, smoothing down my bedhead hair.

‘Not really. The doctors think she’s fine; they’re just being ultra-careful. Danny’s worried, but it’s his first baby. They’ll call if they need us.’ I paused. ‘Do you want to go out for dinner? Just the two of us?’

‘God, Molly, that sounds like you’re asking me out on a date.’

I felt a bit embarrassed, as if I’d asked a man I hardly knew to share the evening with me, and he was likely to turn me down. I know I flushed and looked at my feet. Adam grinned, walked towards me and tilted my chin.

‘Honestly, Moll, you look like a schoolgirl. Yes, let’s have dinner. It’s been ages since we had a date night.’

Date night? I couldn’t remember anything resembling such a romantic prospect between us for years. And yet, before Joey’s disappearance, we went out together all the time. To the theatre, the cinema, dinner. Utter guilt-free enjoyment, followed by long, passionate interludes in bed. I could hardly remember those days