July 2008

7 days earlier

Despite the fact that he had rolled home at 2am, Darren was awake before Lucy. Or rather, he was obviously awake before Lucy. In reality, she hadn't slept at all, merely lain in bed staring at the wall, hoping that Caroline wouldn't start to cry, especially given that she was alone.

"It's just a drink," Darren had said when she had reacted badly to his comment that he was going out that evening. "I haven't been out since she was born."

"Do what you like," Lucy had replied, before flopping back down onto the sofa to watch Diagnosis Murder. She had refused to speak to him for the rest of the afternoon, and their frosty silence hadn't gone unnoticed at the dinner table.

"Why don't you two go out tonight?" Frankie had suggested breezily, clearly eager to diffuse the tension. "It's been ages since you've been out as a couple. Go and have a couple of drinks in the bar. Jack and I'll watch Caroline."

"Darren already has plans," Lucy had replied, moving her spaghetti around her plate with absolutely no intention of eating any of it.

"I'm meeting some of the lads for a drink," he had replied.

"Well Lucy could go too, couldn't she?" Frankie had persisted.

"Forget it, Frankie," Lucy had said, lifting her plate and scraping the contents into the bin, "I don't feel like it anyway." She had then gone back to their room and put the television on, turning the volume up when Caroline began crying an hour later in a desperate attempt to block her out.

"She needs fed," Darren had said, appearing at the door with their screaming daughter in his arms.

"Then feed her," Lucy had replied, "it's not as if there's anything special about me doing it." He had left, slamming the door behind him, and she had dissolved into tears, reminded yet again about how useless she was as a mother.

"I won't be late," he had said by way of goodbye twenty minutes later.

She had looked at him, the clean shirt, the smell of aftershave…she knew what that was all in aid of. She hadn't even bothered to reply, knowing that it was a lie and telling herself how right she had been when he had come in at 2am, smelling of beer. She hadn't even pretended to be asleep, knowing that he would be too drunk to care anyway. She had felt the bed sag beneath her as he climbed in beside her, his arm automatically resting over her body. When she pushed it away, he was already asleep and therefore didn't even notice.

"Lucy?" She was awake, had been all night, and yet was too exhausted to move. "Lucy, you awake?"

"What is it?"

"Breakfast's ready."

She rolled over in bed and looked at him standing in the doorway, "I'm not hungry."

"You didn't eat any dinner last night and Dad said you didn't have anything later either. You must be starving."

"I'm not."

"Lucy…"

"Piss off, Darren," she said viciously, rolling back over to face the wall.

There was a long moment of silence. "Are you intending getting up at all?"

"Am I due to work a shift today?" she asked, knowing full well the answer.

"No…"

"Then no."

Darren closed the door, resisting the urge to slam it because Caroline was still sleeping, but he rested his head against it for a long moment, hoping, wishing for something to change.

"Is she coming?" Frankie asked when he went back into the kitchen.

"No," he replied, sitting down and taking some toast from the plate on the table. "She's still sleeping."

"I heard you talking to her," Newt said, barely looking up.

"I said she's still sleeping, all right?" he replied sharply.

"Darren!" Frankie chastised him. "Is she all right?"

He sighed, "How would I know?"

XXXX

"Where's the lovely Lucy?" Cindy asked later that day as she leant seductively over the bar.

"Upstairs," Darren replied, trying to avoid looking at the ample cleavage that was on show.

"She doesn't seem to be getting out much lately. When I had Holly I couldn't wait to get back out on the town."

"Yeah well, Lucy isn't like you."

"You can say that again," Cindy scoffed, "Little Miss Boring." She stepped back. "You know if you ever fancy a little bit of fun…" he looked at her. "I mean, you can't stay in playing Daddy every night, can you?"

"Thanks, but I reckon I'll pass," he said.

"Shame," she said, "you're missing out on a real treat." At that moment, Lucy appeared. "Oh, look who it is! Come out from under the covers have we? I mean, given what you're wearing…" Cindy looked at her disparagingly, "and is that baby sick down your front?"

Lucy glanced down and then looked back up again. "Darren, can I talk to you?"

"Erm…yeah…" he put down the glass he was holding and followed her out of the immediate area and to the bottom of the stairs relieved to see that she was out of bed at least. "You ok?"

"No," she replied, "the baby's been sick."

"I can see that," he said with a smile, "she throw up her lunch again?"

"Again?" Lucy glared at him.

"Yeah, she did the same yesterday."

"What are you trying to say?" she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," he said, "I was just saying…"

"You're saying that every time I feed her she's sick. That's what you're saying, isn't it?"

He felt the familiar sense of exasperation. "Lucy, I didn't say that…"

"Why don't you just come out and say what you really think, Darren?" she raged. "You think that I'm a crap mother, don't you?"

"What?"

"Why don't you just say it if that's what you think?" she shouted.

Whirling around, she made to hurry back up the stairs but he grabbed her arm, forcing her back. "Lucy…"

"Get off of me!" she swung around, slapping him across the face in the process, causing him to let go suddenly and put his hand to his cheek. Lucy stood, wide-eyed, as though rendered immoveable by what she had done. Tears sprung into her eyes and her lip started to quiver.

"It's ok," he said, his voice shaking slightly, "Lucy it's ok…" Before he could say anymore, she turned and thundered up the stairs, slamming the door at the top behind her leaving him standing, bewildered and more than a little scared.

XXXX

"Newt, have you done your homework?" Frankie asked automatically when she came up to the flat at dinner time. Newt, sat on the sofa watching television, grunted. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Darren and Lucy here?" she asked, starting the preparation for the dinner.

"Lucy's in her room with Caroline," he replied.

Frankie paused. "I think I'll just go and see how she is." She walked through the living room to the door of the bedroom and knocked quietly. "Lucy? It's Frankie, can I come in?" There was no reply, so she pushed open the door. Her eyes went immediately to the cot pushed in beside the bed and saw to her relief Caroline sleeping soundly. Lucy was sitting on the bed, her head in her hands. "Lucy?" she ventured. Lucy raised her head and Frankie saw her face stained with tears. "What is it?" she rushed forward and knelt in front of her. "What's happened?"

Lucy didn't say anything. Instead, she burst into tears, sobs that wracked her entire body. Frankie pulled her into her arms and held her, not sure what to say or do. "Darren…" Lucy said finally.

Frankie pulled back. "He's not here, but I'll send Newt to go and find him.

"No," Lucy said, shaking her head, "He hates me…he'll never want to see me again."

"Don't be daft," Frankie said. "Have you two had an argument? I'm sure it's nothing you can't sort out…"

"I hit him!" Lucy moaned painfully. "I hit him…" she dissolved into sobs again.

"Hit him?" Frankie echoed.

"I'm a shit mother and an even shittier wife…"

"That's not true and you know it," Frankie said.

"It would be better if I wasn't here."

"That's rubbish," Frankie shook her gently. "You're overtired. No wonder, having a new baby and living in here. You just need some rest. Why don't I take Caroline and let you have a sleep before dinner?" Lucy hesitated. "You'll feel a lot better afterwards and Darren'll be back by then and you can talk. I'm sure whatever happened today you can sort it out. Come on," she went into mother mode and coaxed Lucy to lie down on the bed. The younger girl seemed to accept this gratefully and lay back on the bed. Instantly, her eyes were closed and she was asleep.

Frankie lifted Caroline out of the cot and carried her through the living room, placing her in the pram that was at the door.

"What's up with her?" Newt asked, never moving his eyes from the television screen.

"Nothing," Frankie replied, "nothing at all."

XXXX

At half past eight, Darren pushed open the door of the flat and stepped reluctantly inside. Frankie and Jack were sat at the kitchen table and leapt to their feet when they saw him.

"Where have you been?" Jack demanded.

"I'm sorry I missed dinner," he said by way of explanation.

"This is not about missing dinner," Frankie said, her voice low but angry. "This is about your wife!"

"What about her?" Darren asked wearily, pulling out a chair and sinking down into it.

"I found her breaking her heart in your room earlier," Frankie said. "She said something about hitting you."

"She did," he replied, "downstairs earlier. She slapped me."

"What did you do?" Jack demanded.

"Oh yeah that's right, Dad," he retorted, "it would be my fault, wouldn't it? It couldn't just be that she's a moody cow!"

"Darren!" Jack exclaimed.

"She is not 'a moody cow' as you so lovingly put it," Frankie said. "I think we have to consider the possibility that Lucy's a little bit depressed."

"I'm not depressed." They turned to see Lucy standing in the living room.

"Lucy, sweetheart," Frankie moved forward to her, "We thought you were still sleeping."

"I'm not depressed," she repeated, her eyes never leaving Darren's. "I'm sorry."

"Jack, will you help me downstairs?" Frankie said, sensing they needed some time alone.

"Sure," he replied and they both left the flat.

"I'm not depressed," she said it again, stepping forward, "and I didn't mean to hit you."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

"I just sometimes think…" she paused. "Caroline…Caroline doesn't think much of me…"

"Luce, she's a baby," Darren said. "She doesn't think much of anything."

"You don't see the look in her eyes. You don't see what I see."

Darren paused. What she was saying made no sense. Maybe Frankie was right. But he didn't want to entertain the possibility that Frankie could be right. Lucy was just tired. That's all it was. All she needed was a bit of rest, a bit of TLC. Perhaps he hadn't done enough of that lately. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "It's ok," he said.

Lucy wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, allowing herself to relax, believing for the first time that he understood. He rubbed her back gently. She remembered him doing that when she was in labour.

"Why don't I run you a hot bath?" he suggested.

She pulled back and looked at him. "Do you want to have sex?"

He was slightly taken aback by her comment, "Umm…well, it wasn't exactly what I was thinking about…"

"Is that a no?"

"No, it's a..." he paused. "Do you want to have sex?"

She looked away, "I don't know. Part of me wonders why you would want to have sex with me when you could have sex with Cindy."

"Cindy?!" he exclaimed, "Why would I want to…?"

"Don't tell me you don't want her. I could tell by the conversation you were having in the bar earlier."

"She was buying a drink. I was talking to her. It's not a big deal."

"I heard what she was saying about me," her face hardened, "and you weren't exactly sticking up for me."

"I didn't get a chance…"

"You had every chance!" she shouted. "But you didn't because you agree with her, don't you?"

"No…"

"Don't you?!" she shrieked. "You bastard! I hate you!" She lunged at him, pushing him hard so that he stumbled back, cracking his head on the door. Unlike before, she didn't pause. She ran back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. As she did so, Caroline started to scream from the pram in the corner.

"Lucy!" Darren ran to the door and tried the handle, but she had locked it from the inside. "Lucy, open the door!"

"Go away!" Something heavy hit the door, and he jumped back. Then the stereo was switched on and music blared out.

He backed away from the door, slid down the wall and put his head in his hands. "What's happened to you?" he asked no-one in particular. "What happened to us?"