Under My Skin

Part Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Seven

Isobel was gracious with Mr and Mrs Edwards, they had never got on in the past, but the couple did everything to make her feel comfortable when she got home, Mr Edwards even drove her to school to be there in the car when the kids came out at the end of the day. It was exhausting, but SO worth it so see all three beaming incredibly. In the car they chattered all the way home, then Isobel collapsed onto the sofa whilst they all rushed around. Sophie had homework, which she did sat beside Isobel, then she read a story to the younger two. Every five minutes she stopped what she was doing to hug them all to death. They had no idea how much the thought of never seeing them again affected her, and every time she hugged them it helped restore a little confidence in herself and their future. But the novelty of the hugs soon wore off and they started to moan and groan. 

As she watched the three eat at the dining table, pasta provided by her lifesaver Mrs Edwards, she sighed in appreciation. All the time she’d been trapped with Richard, she’d thought of all three kids, four now that her baby was born, and how they were SO lucky to have Marc as a father, that if Richard had his way and ended her life that she couldn’t have imagined a better parent to bring them up, and she knew that in her absence he’d have been a father to Taylor with no questions, no doubts. He was a good man, a great man. Yet here they all were without him.

She phoned the hospital later checking up on the little still unnamed man, who had continued to have a good day. Once the children were settled in bed, Mrs Edwards listened out for them, and Mr Edwards drove her to the hospital. The older three were a little distressed at her bandages and dressings, the fact that half her head and neck were wrapped to protect the burns didn’t bother her little man. As the nurse handed him to her, she held him gently against her chest, his warm skin against hers, and her heart soared. She loved the other three, and they needed her in so many ways, but this little dependent mite tugged at her heart strings in a way no other could. He wriggled as she spoke to him, whispering words of encouragement, and the sound that escaped from his lips was more kitten mewl than baby cry. But whatever it was, she was falling in love with him moment by moment. 

Isobel hated leaving him, he was so vulnerable, so tiny, but she was helpless to do anything for him. He needed his incubator, his drips, wires and tubes. The three at home needed her more at this moment as there was no one else there to be there for them.

Back at the house she checked on all three. Sophie was asleep, serene in her rest, but there was no sign of Taylor, until Isobel checked Lucas’s room and saw them both tucked in together. More tugs at her so vulnerable heart. 

After another call to the hospital, she headed to bed, angry, disappointed and so so sad that there was still no sign of Marc.

As she lay in bed she prayed, to anyone who was listening, she’d never been particularly religious, but it felt as though she was doing SOMETHING asking whoever heard her pleas to keep the baby safe. And it was only then as she lay there alone that she took in all that had happened. The kidnap, the torture, the fear, the anxiety, the rescue, the trauma...and now her baby, the baby she’d wanted so badly that was now in a hospital miles away and not curled in her arms...and Marc, for running away. And boy did she cry; huge, tearful, body jerking sobs that shook her body and seemed unending, but eventually exhausted, sleep claimed her. 

She stirred at the sensation of the bed being depressed behind her, and still half asleep, she rolled over to watch Marc settle beside her.

When she finally sighed his name in exasperation, she felt him physically jump.

“What the hell?” he calmed quickly. “Shit! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?