Thriller
Baby on Board by Jane Coombs
Format:
- Ebook: ISBN 978-1838445942
- Print: ISBN 978-1838445959
- Audio: ASIN: BOF4R8L1Q6
Action thriller based in the UK, mainly London and Norwich. Covers themes of family, divorce, marriage, pregnancy, gaslighting and bullying at work.
On Amazon.
Inspiration for this Book
Years ago, a friend of mine yearned for a baby, and would fall into a low mood and lock herself in the house every month for two weeks after her period arrived. For the next two weeks, she would be happy, contemplating that this time she would get pregnant; a joy to be around. The cycles were endless and exhausted anyone around her. Put a strain on her marriage too. She’d occasionally talk about looking at other people’s babies and how she wanted to run off with them.
I took this feeling further in my book ‘Baby on Board,’ This time, my protagonist, carries the action through. Bringing joy initially, yes, but terrible consequences she could never have foreseen.
Summary
For years, Beth built the perfect life: a loving husband, a smart apartment, and a yearning for motherhood. But the baby that never came chipped away at her picture perfect facade, leaving cracks she only sees when her husband vanishes.
Devastated, but undeterred, she embarks on a desperate mission to become a mother. Her path leads her down a dark and twisted alley. Her quest for a child takes her nightmarish turn, leaving her isolated, ashamed, and haunted by a chilling choice.
As the lines between obsession and survival blur, Beth must confront a past she buried deep and a present that threatens to consume her. Can she escape the web she’s woven, or will the price of her desperate dream be her sanity?
Baby on Board follows Beth as she escapes one terrible situation, only to land in a more terrifying predicament.
Read the First Chapter of Baby on Board:
Darkness engulfed Beth as she jolted awake, her heart thumping against her ribs; breath in ragged gasps as she looked at the space beside her and put a reluctant hand on the sheet, which, as she feared, was cold as the air. An unsettling silence echoed through the apartment. For the first time, Andrew had broken his promise and not come home.
Clutching her phone like a lifeline, Beth threw back the bedclothes to pace back and forth to the living room, anxiety gnawing at her insides. She tried Andrew’s number, her voice messages increasingly desperate and longer with each unanswered call. His voicemail greeting, cheerful and welcoming,
offering no solace.Andrew had always been a creature of habit, his presence a constant in Beth’s once erratic life. Thinking his plane delayed, she’d gone to bed. A note on the kitchen island and his favourite spag bol in the fridge. She hated his foreign trips and missed him. This one to Poland had been for one day originally, then extended to three.
Where was he? What had happened? He always rang to wake her in the morning, with loads of texts and also silly GIFs, then, her favourite, their long comfortable chat before she went to sleep. She hadn’t been worried then, but now her mind raced, conjuring up a myriad of scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. Had he been in an accident? Murdered?
Telling herself not to be so melodramatic, she reasoned there was probably a good explanation. After all, Poland was not the UK—their technology years behind ours, especially the places where Andrew stayed, really off the beaten track. It wasn’t working; the walls of their apartment seemed to close in, suffocating her with their oppressive silence. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she swallowed them back. She would do some research, and doggedly, set to work, checking Poland out.
Work would have to wait. She couldn’t face it, especially with the new boss, Rebekah, who picked on her even on good days. From day one, Rebekah did not bother to hide her dislike of her. Without Andrew’s support, she felt powerless and small against her; he always knew what to do in difficult situations.
She could not face her today, with her husband missing. Not that she would ever tell her the real reason. The more she kept from the dragon about her personal life, the better.
Realising she was already late for work, Beth knew she had to let her know. With a trembling hand, Beth wrote a text message to Rebekah requesting an emergency day off. Quaking, she hit the send button like pressing a detonator, and imagined how it would be received.
After the message, she kept her phone clutched tight. Her fingers tapping the screen relentlessly, checking for updates, desperately seeking any messages from work but, more importantly, from Andrew. But there was nothing. Just an aching silence that mirrored the state of her heart, with the unknown fear of him never returning.
When the darkness crept in, Beth decided she was going mad. She’d sat holding the phone. Trying numbers. Searching the news updates. Everything useless. She had to ease the pressure.
Risking Andrew’s anger, she went to his pristine study to look for clues. It looked normal, tidy. It smelt of Andrew and leather. Where to start?
She tried the fireproof filing cabinet, but it was locked. His laptop closed. She had never touched it before. She opened the lid and prodded the power button. The screen flickered into a snowy mountain range, and a text box demanded a password she didn’t know. Slamming the lid shut, she returned to the lounge not noticing the darkness which enveloped her.
When at last the phone beeped, she almost fell over to reach for it, but it was a text reply from Rebekah.
Opening the message, she held her breath.
‘OK. I’! expect you tomorrow. There is a lot of work come in. R’
“Yes, and look after yourself, too!” Beth thought. What had she expected? The old cow hated her. Others in the office said it was because of Beth’s reputation for being the best in the team, others blamed it on her being one of the longest serving members of staff. Whatever it was, Beth could not seem to do anything right and kept a low profile.
She picked up the phone and tapped it against her temple, willing Andrew to ring, feeling the oppression in the dark walls.
Desperate for respite, she dragged on her jogging pants and trainers, needing to get out of this place and breathe. Her head thumped, and before the ache worsened, took two Brufen from the bathroom cabinet before running in the dark, knowing Andrew would not approve. He always liked to come with her when it was dark, making her run fast and not allowing conversation.
Keeping to the well-lit streets, the smell of coffee from small newsagents reminded her she had not eaten since yesterday lunchtime and, walking into the warmth, brought an espresso from the machine. The bitterness and heat of the liquid made her shudder. She watched the black liquid swirl in a slow circle; reflections hypnotising as she braced for another sip, hoping it might stimulate her mind for new ideas on what to do next.
Another buzz from her phone and her heart flipped. She fumbled it out of her pocket to see it was an unknown number.
In a split second, myriad emotions of joy, anger, hope, and gratitude fought for supremacy. Hesitating for only a moment, she braced herself.
“Beth, this is Tom. Andrew’s boss. The office said you rang.” His voice sounded officious and posh, the typical barrister.
Beth’s heart jolted with disappointment, remembering she’d left a message at Andrew’s works late last night when she was in full panic mode. Fear replaced the hope, Andrew would be
annoyed with her for bothering him. He liked to keep a distance between work and home and admitted no problems to anyone – except her.“Tom. Where is he? He didn’t come home. He was meant to be home early this morning. I can’t get hold of him.” Even to her own ears, she sounded hysterical and clamped her lips shut,
instead, she forced the phone tight to her ear, afraid to miss his response.“Andrew is in Poland. He’s fine. Are you OK?”
Am I OK? OK? She resisted the urge to scream at him. Her voice, when she spoke, sounded weak and breathy. She needed to be polite. Andrew would have a fit if she upset his boss.
“Why isn’t he ringing me himself?” The question ripped out of her as she bent over to breathe.
“He’s had a lot on his plate over there. Work’s been difficult. He’s taking some holiday, he told me. Did he not tell you?” Tom sounded genuine.
“He’s not answering his phone. I’ve left him messages. Have you heard from him recently?” She had a mental picture of Andrew lying unconscious in hospital. She was going mad.
“Andrew’s in a low phone signal area. It’s quite temperamental. I heard from him yesterday. He seemed fine. Under pressure with this contract, obviously.” Tom’s words reached her through the chaos of her thoughts.Pressure? Her mind swivelled to consider the past few weeks. Andrew told her nothing of his plans or any pressures.
Her phone ear throbbed with pain as she pressed the phone harder to her ear as a motorbike with a noisy exhaust passed her.
“Look Beth, I’ve got to go. I’m at work. I’m sure everything is OK. If you need anything, call me at the office, or in emergency, on this number. I’ll try to get hold of him today through
the office numbers. I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything. Meanwhile, have you checked your emails?”The line went dead; the silence deafening.
If this wasn’t an emergency, then what was? Shaking her head and not listening to her inner voice telling her to be cautious, with an unsteady finger, she pressed the recall button. She needed to know more and had lots of questions. Tom was the only one able to answer them. The phone went to voice mail, and she listened,wondering if he knew it was her.
Chucking the revolting coffee in the bin, she walked on blindly. More confused than ever.
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