The Therapist by B.A. Paris
Ten
I’m so numb with shock that I barely hear my mobile ringing. It’s Ginny. I don’t take the call, I can’t. My mind is too busy stumbling over what Ben told me.
I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that Leo went ahead and bought the house despite knowing about the murder, it seems too incredible. How could he be alright with it? How could he think, even for a minute, that I’d be alright with it? He knows how squeamish I am, how I can’t watch a film without leaving the room as soon as I sense something bad is going to happen. Which must be why he didn’t tell me, because he knew I’d refuse to live there. What makes it worse is that he lied to Ben about having told me. And what makes that worse is he told Ben that the reason I didn’t mind living there was because I wouldn’t have to sell my cottage. How could he? He’s made me out to be both insensitive and mercenary, and I hate him for it. At least Ben knows the truth now. But it only makes me feel marginally better.
I can’t understand Leo’s motivation for not telling me. He must have known I’d find out eventually. Is that why he didn’t want to have people over for drinks, in case someone mentioned the murder? And why had no-one mentioned it, why had neither Eve or Maria, or anyone else at the party said anything?
Because they couldn’t, I realise dully. They presumed that I knew, that I was fine about it. They were hardly going to introduce it into the conversation – So, Alice, what’s it like living in a house where a murder took place? I remember Tamsin’s comment at the party about me being brave. She hadn’t been referring to my move from the country to London, but my move into a house with a terrible past. And then, this morning, the conversation I overheard when I went to join them. What had Tamsin said? I close my eyes and her voice comes back to me. ‘It’s amazing that it doesn’t seem to bother her.’ And Eve’s reply – ‘I’m beginning to wonder if she actually knows.’
I feel a rush of gratitude towards Eve, for realising that maybe I’m not as heartless as everyone must think. I’m surprised she’s been so friendly, surprised the people here have been generally welcoming. Maybe some of them were secretly judging us for buying the house but the majority had seemed interested—
Oh God.I lean forwards, my head heavy in my hands. I had paraded people through the house, I had taken them upstairs. What must people have thought? The ones who had been eager to see the bedroom – was that because the murder had taken place there?
My phone is still in my hand so I google the murder again and find an article written four days after Nina Maxwell’s death. There are more details: her body was found in her bedroom, tied to a chair. Her hair had been cut off and she had been strangled. A man has been arrested and is helping the police with their enquiries, the article finishes.
Bile surges in my throat. I knew how Nina Maxwell had died, it had haunted me for months after. But to see it written in black and white – I fight down the nausea, channelling it instead into anger at the people who had wanted to see the bedroom where it had taken place. Tamsin and most of the women hadn’t accepted my invitation to show them the renovations, it was mainly the men who’d been interested. Eve had already been upstairs, not at the party, but the day she came over to introduce herself, and I’d dragged her to the bedroom to show her our huge wardrobe. She had held back at first and I’d put her hesitation down to a desire not to appear nosey.
‘Alice?’ Lifting my head, I see Eve walking down the path towards me. ‘What are you doing sitting here?’ A frown furrows her brow. ‘You’re shivering! Is everything alright?’
‘No, not really.’
‘Are you ill, do you need me to call someone?’
‘No, I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine, obviously,’ I say, trying to joke. ‘But I’m not ill. I just feel so humiliated, so angry!’
‘Angry is good,’ Eve says, coming to sit next to me. The smell of her perfume – Sì, by Armani – is oddly comforting. ‘Much better than ill, or sad. Why don’t you tell me what’s happened?’
‘I’ve just found out that our house,’ I thrust my hand towards it, ‘was the scene of a brutal murder.’ I look at her in anguish. ‘I didn’t know, Eve. Leo knew but he didn’t tell me.’
‘Oh, Alice.’ The sympathy in Eve’s eyes is also comforting. ‘I was beginning to think that you might not know. At first, I thought you were one of those people who are able to compartmentalise things, who are able to say “that was then, but this is now”.’
‘I could never be that insensitive. I’m surprised you could bring yourself to talk to me. I’m surprised anyone could talk to me when I didn’t acknowledge the murder, not even to say how sorry I was that you had all lost your neighbour.’
‘No-one was judging you, Alice.’
‘I think Tamsin might have been.’
‘Well, maybe. A bit. Nina was her best friend, so it’s understandable.’ She pauses a moment. ‘The first time she saw you, she thought for a moment that you were Nina. She was standing at her bedroom window and she saw you crossing the square. You’re about the same build as Nina was and from that distance, she could only see your long blond hair. It gave her a bit of a shock.’
I nod distractedly. ‘But why weren’t people judging me?’ I ask. ‘Shouldn’t they have been?’
Eve pushes her hand through her hair. ‘I think everyone was just relieved that the house had been sold, that it was going to be lived in and not standing empty. It had become a bit of a shrine, I suppose, and some of the children began to say it must be haunted, and their parents didn’t want them believing that it was. When we heard that someone had bought it, it was as if a breath of fresh air was coming to The Circle. At last, we were going to be able to move on.’ She looks at me earnestly. ‘People are grateful, Alice. We see it as a new beginning.’
‘Maybe, but we’re not going to be able to stay here now. At least, I’m not. It obviously doesn’t bother Leo.’
‘He told Will it was why he wanted to change it around upstairs, get rid of the room where it happened. He said he wanted to make it easier for you to live there.’
‘Insinuating that I knew about it,’ I say, digging in my pocket for a tissue. ‘And of course, nobody dared mention the murder on Saturday, even though there were plenty who were eager to see where it had taken place. You’d have thought at least one person would have asked me if I was OK living with the ghost of a murdered woman.’
Eve looks uncomfortable. ‘I might have had something to do with that. Leo told Will he’d appreciate it if no-one mentioned the house’s history in front of you as you were obviously sensitive about it. Will told me and I sort of spread the word.’
A memory comes back, of Leo going to see Will, the day after I told him I’d invited people for drinks. ‘I can’t believe it!’ I say, my anger coming back. ‘He really didn’t want me to find out, did he?’ I look at her, hoping she’ll be able to give me an answer. ‘I can’t understand it, Eve. He’s never done anything like this before, he’s never kept anything back, he’s never not told me the truth. And he must have known that I’d find out eventually. It’s not the sort of thing that can be kept a secret.’
‘How did you find out?’ Eve asks, reaching into her bag and bringing out a peaked cap, and using it to fan herself.
‘I got a phone call,’ I say, hoping she didn’t notice my slight hesitation. ‘From a reporter.’ I’m not lying to her because I’m almost sure that Thomas Grainger is a journalist, and changed his job description to private investigator to make it sound more palatable.
She jams the cap on her head, not caring that her sunglasses are caught under it. ‘What did they say?’
‘She asked me how it felt to be living at the scene of a brutal murder,’ I improvise, changing the pronoun to move further away from the truth. ‘When I said that I didn’t know what she was talking about, she told me to google Nina Maxwell.’ That part at least is true. ‘So, I did.’
‘What an awful way to find out.’
I shake my head slowly. ‘I can’t believe Leo knew.’ The memory of how I accused Ben of not telling Leo makes me flinch internally. ‘Leo told the estate agent that I was fine with it because, with the house being cheaper, it meant I could keep my cottage in Harlestone. He made me sound completely heartless.’
She tries to hug me but because of the way we’re sitting on the bench, it’s awkward, and I realise that I don’t know Eve, not really. Do I even know Leo?
‘What are you going to do?’ she asks.
‘I need to speak to Leo but I don’t want to phone him, I need to see his face. He’s back tomorrow evening so I’ll have to wait until then. But I can’t stay in the house, so I’ll go to a hotel.’ I turn to her. ‘Can I ask you a favour, Eve? I need to get a couple of things from the house, would you come with me? I know it’s stupid but I feel a bit funny going in there now.’
‘It’s not stupid and of course I’ll come with you. And you don’t need to go to a hotel, you can stay with me and Will.’
I falter at this, suddenly unsure of what I want. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Sure I’m sure!’
‘I don’t need much, just some pyjamas, a toothbrush and a change of clothes. And my book and laptop.’
‘Come on then.’
On the doorstep, I hand my keys to Eve. She unlocks the door and goes into the house, while I wait on the doorstep, dread cramping my stomach. I don’t know what I’m expecting. For it to be different, I suppose. At least to feel different. But it doesn’t, it feels just the same, so I go in.
Eve stoops to pick up something.
‘Someone’s card,’ she says, handing it to me without looking at it.
‘Thanks.’ I tuck it in my pocket and wait while she takes off her cap, shoves it into her bag, then kicks off her trainers. I slip mine off and follow her upstairs to the bedroom. She walks straight in but I stop in the doorway.
She holds out her hand to me. ‘It’s just the same as before, Alice. Nothing has changed.’
I take a steadying breath and look around the room. She’s right, it is the same. The patterned curtains are still billowing in the breeze, just as they were this morning. My hairbrush is still on the dressing table, the clothes I wore yesterday are still draped over the chair. But—
‘I can’t be here,’ I say, overwhelmed by a feeling of mounting panic. Going over to the chest of drawers, I grab a pair of pyjamas and some underwear then run out of the room, away from the evil I can feel seeping into my pores.