The Therapist by B.A. Paris
Fourteen
Iwake in the night, my heart beating hard against my ribs. Something woke me, I don’t know what. I lie without moving, holding my breath, my body tensed, trying to work it out. And then it comes to me. There’s someone in the room and I know instinctively that it isn’t Leo.
There’s no light near me, the nearest lamp is on my desk. I’m too scared to move, too scared to open my eyes. My eyes dart around under my closed lids. Where are they? Shouldn’t I be able to hear them breathing, detect some sort of movement? There’s nothing, just a feeling that someone is watching me. Then, when the effort of not moving, not breathing, becomes too much, the sense of someone being there leaves me.
My held-in breath whooshes from me, a shuddering gasp in the suffocating silence of the night. I wait for my heartrate to slow, then move my legs from under the covers. I feel too vulnerable to leave my bed so I stretch my arm towards my desk and turn on the lamp. The weak yellow light doesn’t reach into the corners of the study but I’m able to see that there isn’t anyone there. The door is slightly ajar, and I can’t remember whether or not I closed it before going to sleep.
I get out of bed, about to call for Leo, then stop. I can do this myself. My heart in my mouth, I switch on the light in the hall. Taking a deep breath, I walk through the downstairs rooms with pretend confidence, giving myself courage, turning on lights as I go. There’s a neat pile of clothes on the chair in the hall; Leo must have brought them down once I was asleep to save him doing it in the morning. I continue upstairs, checking his study and the guest bedroom. The door to our bedroom is shut. I put my hand gently on the handle and push it open. It creaks slightly and I hold my breath, expecting Leo to wake up, ask who’s there. But there’s no sound. I peep in; he’s sleeping soundly, his breathing deep and regular.
I’m going back downstairs when I see it, a white rose cut from the garden lying on the window sill next to the front door. I smile grimly to myself, amazed that he thinks I can be won over so easily. I carry it through to the kitchen, open the bin and dump it inside.
Back in bed, I leave the light on and my door half-open so I’m not in complete darkness. I expect to have trouble getting to sleep but suddenly, it’s morning and Leo has already left for Birmingham.
The next morning, a text comes in from Eve – Coffee? I check the time; it’s already nine o’clock but I can start work a bit later today. I go straight round. She comes to the door dressed in white running gear, eating toast spread thickly with peanut butter.
‘I did a five-mile run this morning, so I’m allowed,’ she says, offering me her plate. ‘And you’re allowed, because you had a crap weekend. Or maybe you didn’t?’
I take a piece of toast and follow her to the kitchen. ‘It was crap on the Leo front but the upside was that I managed to get a lot of work done. It took my mind off everything, which was good.’
‘You were able to stay in the house, then?’
‘Yes, but I slept downstairs, in my study.’
Eve puts her plate down, hoists herself onto the worktop, then picks up her plate again.
‘How did it go with Leo?’
‘We’re keeping our distance while I try and work out how I’m feeling. I’m so confused about everything. I feel I should be running away from the house, maybe even running away from Leo. But he said we should create new memories.’
She tilts her head to one side, looking at me. ‘How do you feel about that?’
‘I’m not sure. This might sound strange, but since Leo said that, I’ve begun to feel as if I owe it to Nina to stay. I feel drawn to her in some way. When I went back to the house on Thursday, I could almost sense her presence, I could see her in the sitting room with Oliver, see them together in the kitchen. And when I think how she must have suffered,’ I add quietly, ‘any hardship that I might be feeling is nothing in comparison. Maybe Leo is right, maybe the only way to rid the house of the evil that happened there is to create new memories.’
‘Good vibes chasing away bad ones doesn’t sound strange at all,’ Eve says. ‘Don’t you want to sit down?’
‘Sorry,’ I say, realising I’ve been pacing the kitchen. I pull out a chair. ‘Leo should be staying in Birmingham until Thursday, like he usually does, but he’s going to come home every evening so that I won’t be alone at night.’
‘That’s good of him.’
‘What would you do, Eve, if you were in my place?’
‘I think if I was kind of managing, which you seem to be, I’d stay for a while, see how things pan out.’
‘I’d feel much better if I could go and see everyone here and explain that I didn’t know about the murder before moving in. But I suppose that would be kind of weird.’
‘If you really want it out there, I could tell Tamsin and Maria and they could tell their neighbours, who would tell theirs, and before you know it, it will be common knowledge,’ she says. ‘Would you like me to do that?’
‘Yes, please. I really need people to know I’m not callous.’ A new thought comes to worry me. ‘But what will people think when they know that I know about the murder and am able to carry on living in the house, at least for the moment?’
‘They already thought that you knew, and the only thing they thought was that you were incredibly brave. So that’s what they’ll continue to think, that you’re brave. And not many people would be able to afford to move out and rent somewhere else to live while the house is being resold, so they’ll understand that too. Your cottage is rented out, it’s not as if you can go back there. Anyway, why do you care what people think?’
‘I don’t want to be shunned when I’ve only just arrived here.’
Eve bursts out laughing. ‘You’re not going to be shunned!’
‘So, if I invite you, Tamsin and Maria to lunch on Wednesday, before you go to your yoga class, will you come?’ I say, surprising myself, because I hadn’t actively thought about inviting them over.
‘Sure we will! We came to your drinks evening, didn’t we?’
‘I’d like to invite Cara but I don’t think she’s around during the day. Did she say she works for Google?’
‘Yes, she’s a software engineer. She works crazy hours so you’ll only be able to get hold of her at weekends.’
‘Just the four of us, then.’
I leave soon after. Eve told me I could work at hers but if I’m to stay here, in this house, I need to get used to being alone. ‘What would you do, Nina?’ I murmur to the photo of my sister pinned to the fridge. ‘Would you stay or would you go?’ But there’s no answer, just the absolute stillness of an empty house.
Instead of doing a second read of my book, I decided to start translating straightaway. Translating requires focus and right now, I need to be able to concentrate on something other than the murder.
The day passes surprisingly quickly. When Leo arrives home, he goes out of his way to apologise, to try and make good the harm he’s done.
‘Your hair looks nice,’ he says, referring to the way I’ve plaited it to keep it out of my way while I’m working.
‘Thanks.’
He sighs. ‘Tell me how I can make it up to you.’
‘I don’t know, I don’t even know if you can. How can I trust you if you’re able to keep something so momentous from me?’
What I hate most is that I feel I’m being unfair. But expecting me to fall into his arms, say I forgive him, is too much. He offers to make me dinner and when I refuse, he eats quickly and disappears to his study. He doesn’t mention the rose I threw in the bin so maybe he didn’t see it.
The house is quiet, too quiet. Realising I didn’t tell Leo that I thought there was someone in the house last night, I’m tempted to go after him. But I don’t want him to think that I’m using it as an excuse to start a conversation. Anyway, there wasn’t anyone there, it was just the murder playing on my mind.