Forget Her Name(77)

Not very nice of me.

She suggested a second opinion.

‘Not yet,’ Dominic said at once, quiet and concerned, a voice in the corner. ‘Some meds first, and a few nights of peace and quiet here at home. I’ll get time off. I’ll look after her.’

A second opinion. I knew what that meant. The woman in the flowery skirt wanted me committed.

Definitely not nice.

I was glad then that I’d ruined her notes.

‘She ought to be somewhere secure,’ the duty doctor said. ‘Catherine needs professional care.’

‘I’m a trained nurse, and she’s my wife. I’ll deal with it.’

A hesitation. ‘Do you have any experience of psychotic patients?’

‘Some, yes. Enough to get us through a day or two until she’s seen by a specialist. And if there’s any trouble at all, I’ll take her to the hospital myself.’

Later, the meds arrived.

I spat those pills out, too. I like spitting, I’ve decided. It expresses perfectly what I’m feeling, and seems to annoy everyone in the room.

Double whammy.

After the duty doctor had gone – still muttering darkly about a secure unit – they took me upstairs to our self-contained flat on the top floor. They stuck me in the bedroom with Jasmine while they cleared nearly everything out of the living room – previously my bedroom, of course – then trundled me in there, a firm hand on each shoulder, Dominic and Dad.

My guards.

The old lock and bolt on the door had been reinstated.

In we went, then the key was turned.

Bare mattress on the floor. One plastic chair. Nothing else.

I looked at Dominic.

‘Well, this is cosy.’

He stroked my hair back from my forehead, then smiled. ‘Strip,’ he said.

‘That’s not very romantic.’

‘Strip,’ he repeated. ‘Everything.’

‘Everything?’ I rolled my eyes at him, gasping in mock horror. ‘But what if Dad comes back?’

‘Everything.’

I smiled. ‘Pervert.’

He hesitated, then reached round for the zip at the back of my little silver dress. ‘Okay, if you won’t do it yourself . . .’

‘Oh, darling. This is so sexy.’

‘Don’t get any ideas. You’re going to sleep.’

‘And what are you going to do?’

He dragged my dress over my head and threw it aside. ‘I’m going to watch.’

‘You’re going to watch me sleep in the nude? How unspeakably kinky. Can you film me too? On your phone? So I can watch myself later?’

His eyes met mine at last. He looked exhausted, poor lamb. It must be such a tiring business, looking after mad Mrs Rochester.

‘Doctor’s orders,’ he said wearily. ‘Come on, it’s really late. And this is for the best. No phones in here. No clothes. No hidden weapons.’

He took off the rest of my clothes. Transparent bra and thong. Not very gently. Then knocked twice on the door. Jasmine opened it, staring in with a worried expression, and he handed her my clothes.

The door was locked again.

‘Bed,’ he said, pointing at the mattress.

I struck a pose, thrusting out my bare breasts. ‘Oh baby, what an invitation. Okay, okay. I’ll be a good girl and lie down. But only if you lie down with me.’

Dominic drew breath, then picked me up and threw me backwards onto the mattress. I screamed and tried to scramble back up. He pinned me down, hands to wrists, his full weight on my body.

That was when the fighting began in earnest.

I kicked and screamed and spat at him. He struggled to hold me down. I told him exactly what I thought of him. He said nothing. I gave up trying to escape and attacked the wall instead with my bare hands. Gouged holes in the appalling black-and-white striped wallpaper, tore strips off it, banged my forehead against the wall until I was dizzy. Dominic dragged me away a few times, but I kept charging back, attacking the wall like it was my enemy.

‘I hate this wallpaper!’ I was shouting at one point. ‘This is my bedroom. This isn’t how it’s supposed to look.’

I’m not sure how long all that drama lasted. But somehow it ended with me rolling onto the floor between the cold wall and the mattress, too drained to do anything beyond moan and swear.

I guess I must have fallen asleep in this position.



‘Catherine?’

A voice breaks the silence. A man’s voice nearby. Is he watching me? He knows I’m not asleep.

‘Catherine?’

My heart rate picks up. I don’t respond, though I know that voice.

It’s not for me.

‘Cat?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘Cat’s not here right now. Please leave a message at the beep.’ I raise my voice, strident with defiance. ‘BEEP. BEEP—’

‘Rachel?’

I smile. I don’t mean to, but I can’t help myself.

‘Yes?’

Dominic laughs. ‘Stubborn little bitch, aren’t you?’

My rock.

Also the weak link in their chain.

‘I’m cold,’ I say.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘You could warm me up. What time is it?’