Sleep Deprived: *Warning: Some Scenes May Disturb (3 page)

I laid the bag on the floor and placed tomorrow's roast on the counter whilst looking for cling film. Once I found it, I wrapped the meat and placed it in the refrigerator. I took the bag outside and put it in the bin.

I hadn't realised how exhausted I was. After washing and drying my hands, I made my way to the living room where I sat down on the sofa and allowed my eyes to close. It was quiet and I quickly fell into a deep sleep. It didn't last long. I awoke with a start after having a dream in which Claire was screaming from the oven.

3.

Apparently I fell back to sleep as I awoke early and refreshed the following morning. The clock told me it was 9:57am.
Had I really slept for so long?
I can't remember feeling this exhilarated in years, but the voice brought me back down to earth.

Get her in the oven. Now.

I knew I had to get moving if I was to prepare the roast for tonight's dinner. I walked into the kitchen whistling a tune and switched on the kettle for a cup of tea. As it heated up, I opened the refrigerator and took stock of the inventory. A perfect roast required perfect ingredients, after all. Everything seemed in order, although after searching the kitchen, I couldn't find all the ingredients for homemade Yorkshire puddings; the key to any successful roast. Ah, well. Frozen would have to do.

The kettle boiled and I made myself a cup of tea and some toast. I leisurely ate my breakfast, or was it lunch by now? I don't remember. Anyway, enough lounging. It was time to cook. Having never prepared this type of meat, I didn't know how long it should cook, but I figured that the “low and slow” method might work best.

I took Claire out of the refrigerator and allowed her to come up to room temperature. Meanwhile, I peeled some potatoes, chopped some carrots, and onions and scoured the cabinets for spices. Finding everything I needed, I unwrapped the meat and generously seasoned the breast side, and laid her down on the roasting pan. As one might do with the wings of a turkey, I decided to fold her legs up underneath the body to prevent them from burning. I had to snap both legs in the opposite direction at the knees to get them to lay the way I wanted, but it didn't take too much effort. I seasoned her back. Then I sprinkled the potatoes and other vegetables around the meat and covered the pan with tinfoil. I placed the roast in the low oven to allow it to properly cook. It didn't take long for the succulent smell to permeate through the house. I set the timer for four hours and went into the bedroom to take a nap.

See, get rid of the little brat, you can finally sleep.

The timer went off at four o'clock so I hopped out of bed and walked to the kitchen. The smell coming out of the oven made my mouth water. I opened the oven door and lifted a corner of the foil which gave me just enough room to stick a fork in the meat and potatoes, making sure they were tender. Everything was perfect. Removing the foil, I let the roast cook for a few more minutes to allow the skin to brown and turn crispy.

Browned to perfection, using some oven gloves, I took Claire out of the oven, remembering something I read in a food magazine once, a long time ago. Allowing the meat to “rest” after cooking ensured it stayed tender and juicy once you carve it, so I replaced the foil and went about preparing some broccoli, the Yorkies, and gravy. I had to remove some of the juices from the roasting pan for the gravy, but I must admit that it came out very well.

It was five o'clock on the dot when Katie and Anthony came walking through the door, huge smiles upon their faces. I had just finished setting the table and everything was perfect.

“Hello, Anna Wow, something smells delicious!” Katie said enthusiastically.

“Shh. Claire is sleeping,” I whispered. “Come eat. We've made a lovely roast.”

“But I’ve missed my baby, I'd love to peek in at her before we sit down.”

I was losing patience. I went to all this trouble to make this fucking roast and the bitch just wanted to see her bloody kid.

I gave them my most sincere smile. And kept speaking in a hushed tone, “Truth is, Claire had a bit of a rough night. I think she may be teething. It's probably best to let her get some sleep. Grab a quick bite and I'll bring her in right after dinner.”

Katie and Anthony looked at each other and smiled as they walked into the dining room, arm in arm. They sat at the large oak table and looked at the presentation before them. I had to admit that the table looked beautiful and the food, delicious. I was starving and couldn't wait to eat, and more importantly, I couldn't wait for the couple to try the roast I had worked so hard to perfect.

As I served the food, Katie smiled and said, “I'm famished. You really shouldn't have gone to so much trouble.”

It surprised me to learn that little Claire, all five kilograms of her, was more than enough to feed three adults. I piled each plate high with meat and vegetables and covered everything with rich gravy. After adding Yorkies to each plate, everyone dug in.

“This is lovely, Anna. Thank you,” Anthony said between mouthfuls. “Is this pork? It has a very unique flavour.”

I smiled as I told him it was a pork roast, seasoned with my own special blend of herbs and spices. After almost clearing her plate, Katie excused herself to use the toilet.  I really didn't think anything of it as I thought I had done a good job cleaning the bathroom after cutting up Claire's body in preparation for tonight's meal.

Shortly after Katie left the table, a blood curdling scream emanated from the bathroom. Then, all went silent. Anthony and I ran to see what the problem was, and found the bathroom door locked.

“Katie?!” Anthony screamed through the door. “Katie, honey?” He received no reply. Throwing his shoulder into the door several times, it finally burst inwards. There, passed out on the bathroom floor was Katie, her right hand clutching Claire's little arm. I guess I missed taking out all the trash. Whoops. I laughed.

“What...” was all Anthony could manage before lurching over the toilet and throwing up tonight's dinner.

Tosspot didn't even keep his dinner down after all the work I put into it.

What happened next was all a bit of a blur. I remember there was screaming – a lot of screaming. I remember police swarming the house. I remember Katie waking up crying and then attacking me, repeatedly slapping and punching me until the police officers pulled her off. I remember sitting in a room at the police station being interviewed by two officers. Then I remember waking up here, in Broadmoor Hospital in Berkshire.

Now, I can finally get some sleep.

End