Yesterday's Sun by Amanda Brooke Page B

reluctantly withdrew as Tom made a move to stand up. She stood up, too, facing him as he perched Libby on his shoulder and then picked up the bassinet.
    “Bedtime for us, I think,” Tom said with false bravado.
    As he turned and headed for the door, Holly put her hand on his shoulder, not wanting him to leave. “Stay with me,” she pleaded as the sense of panic returned.
    Tom paused. “Stay with me,” he whispered, but then he left the room.
    Holly felt close to a breaking point and she was paralyzed by fear. Her breathing was getting faster and deeper and she started to feel woozy. She was on the verge of hyperventilating. She heard Tom’s footsteps going up the stairs and then the creaking of floorboards overhead. For the second time that night, the sound of the baby crying sent her whole body into spasm.
    The combination of the need for fresh air and the overwhelming desire to run away was enough to give Holly the strength to leave the house. She stumbled through to the kitchen, fumbling with the door handle before eventually letting herself out of the house and across the garden. It was still cold, much too cold for late April, and the wind whipped around her.
    Holly’s eyes darted from one side of the garden to the other, and she wondered what demons lurked in the shadows to strip away the last shreds of her sanity. In answer to her challenge, Holly’s attention was drawn toward the orchard. The trees that should have been on the verge of blossom were now forlornly hanging on to withered leaves, fragments of a summer long gone. Holly stumbled on until she reached the moondial.
    “I’m not dead. I’m not dead!” she cried out. She sank to her knees and curled up into a ball. “I’m here, Tom. Why can’t you see me?” she pleaded.
    Holly wasn’t sure how long she remained curled up beneath the moondial. Exhausted and cold, terrified and confused, she didn’t know what to do next.
    It was only when the kitchen light was switched off and the garden was etched in gray once more that Holly lifted her head and looked toward the house.
    A few seconds later, a light appeared from her bedroom window. It was the soft glow of a bedside lamp. The bedroom blind was open. Holly tried to remember if she had left the blind open or closed. She sighed deeply. What did it matter? Everything had changed and Holly felt trapped in a world she no longer belonged in. But Tom was in there. If she didn’t belong with him, then where did she belong?
    Holly rose to her feet and, beneath the watchful gaze of the full moon, felt an urge to go back into the house and run to Tom. She was about to take a step forward when the unmistakable silhouette of her husband appeared at the bedroom window. He was rocking from side to side and although Holly was raging against the impossibility of it all, she knew he had the baby in his arms. The slow rocking motion of his body suddenly froze. Holly couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was looking at her.
    It felt as if the world were closing in around her when she fell under Tom’s gaze. There was a crushing weight pushing against her chest as the rhythmic sound of a ticking clock grew closer and then stopped with a thud. Whether it was the wind that whipped around her or just sheer exhaustion, Holly stumbled and reached out to the moondial to steady herself. The moment she touched the dial, a host of dancing moonbeams scampered around her. The garden became a blur and the air became heavier and a few degrees warmer.
    Holly needed to keep both hands on the dial to keep herself steady. She closed her eyes in an effort to stem the waves of dizziness that ebbed and flowed through her. One of her hands touched something on the dial. Holly blinked to chase away the shadows left by the light of the moonbeams. It took a while before she could safely pick up what she had touched. She held it in her hands and a sense of relief washed away the terror. It was the wooden