The Secret Mother(58)
‘Did you go and see that therapist, like I asked?’ Scott says.
‘I don’t need to see a therapist. There’s nothing wrong with me other than the fact that I’m still mourning the loss of our children. You’ve obviously moved on, you don’t want to hear anything that could upset your perfect new life. But I’ve found out something important. I think that clinic was negligent with Lily, I think they’re trying to cover something up.’
‘Tessa, you promised you’d go and see a therapist.’
‘No, I didn’t. You blackmailed me. You told me that if I didn’t make an appointment, I couldn’t have my children’s health records. Which, by the way, if you’d looked at them like I asked, you would have seen that Harry’s father was the doctor on duty that night.’ Okay, I don’t know that the health records say that, but I’m hoping they do; I’m hoping they at least are correct.
‘What does it matter who was on duty that night?’ Scott says, shaking his head at me. ‘I know you, Tessa.’ He leans forward. ‘I know how you were after Sam died. I’m worried you’re losing it again, so I’m just going to come out and say it – did you take that boy? Did you abduct that doctor’s son? Just admit it, Tessa. We can get you help, but only if you admit what you did.’
A momentary chill of dread scuttles down my back. What if Scott is right? What if my mind is playing tricks on me and I did this terrible thing? I’m already denying what the official records state. I even lied to Carly. Am I twisting things to fit in with my theory? Maybe I do need to speak to a professional to get everything straight in my mind. But isn’t this what Scott always does? Dismisses my feelings, makes me feel like I’m not in control of my own mind. No, I won’t allow him to make me second-guess myself. I didn’t do what he’s suggesting, I would never do that.
‘Listen to me, Scott,’ I say. ‘I did not take that boy. Get that through your thick skull.’
His face grows red. He’s not used to me talking back to him. I don’t think I’ve ever raised my voice to him before.
‘I bet this is all your idea, isn’t it?’ I turn to Ellie. ‘Get the ex-wife off to therapy so she won’t bother us any more.’
‘Actually, we both think it’s for the best,’ she says. ‘We genuinely think you could do with some professional help. Look, Tessa, answer me this – if you didn’t take Harry, then how did he get into your kitchen? His dad wouldn’t have put him there. You’re asking us to believe that some random person took a little boy all the way from Dorset and brought him to your house in London. Why would anyone do that?’
‘Gosh, I don’t know, Ellie.’ I can’t help mimicking her childish voice. ‘I wish I’d considered that question before. Thanks for bringing it up.’
‘No need to be sarcastic.’ Her face twitches. ‘I’m only trying to help. You’re being very… emotional.’
‘Well, I apologise for that, Ellie, but being emotional is an unfortunate side effect of losing one’s children.’
To her credit, she flushes and looks away. ‘We should go, Scott. We’re not getting anywhere with her.’ She rises to her feet.
So many fitting responses come to mind, but she’s not worth wasting my energy on. ‘You’re right,’ I reply. ‘You should leave.’
Ellie shakes her head as though I’m a lost cause, and a fresh plume of anger boils up in me. She’s poisoned Scott’s mind. I shouldn’t be trying to convince him that something is wrong, he should want to listen. He should be experiencing the same outrage as me, the same desire to discover the truth.
I turn to him. ‘Scott, I was hoping to have a private conversation with you about something that I believe went terribly wrong at our children’s birth. But you obviously aren’t interested, so you may as well go, and take your floozy with you.’ It feels quite good to say the word floozy out loud.
‘Get some help, Tessa,’ Scott says on his way out.
I watch them leave the room, wishing once again that he had come here without her. Maybe he would have listened to me if she hadn’t been here too.
‘Please, Scott,’ I call, trying one last time to get him to listen. ‘Just stop and think about what I’m telling you. There’s something else going on here. Something bad. Scott!’ But I know by the pitying look he casts over his shoulder that he isn’t prepared to listen. That he’s already made up his mind. In his eyes, the past is over and I’m the poor pathetic creature stuck there, trying to pull him back into the darkness.
But he’s wrong. The past isn’t over. It’s catching up.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
My mind is still spinning with everything that happened yesterday – the clinic’s unreliable records and Scott’s refusal to listen to me. I’m on my own in this, but I’m not giving up. I’m not letting it go. I’ll get up, face the day – whatever it brings – and find out the truth. I feel like I’m on the verge of something. Like if I reach just a little further, I’ll be able to join the dots.
In the wintry gloom of morning, I get ready for work, have a quick breakfast and zip up my raincoat, preparing myself for a mad dash through the downpour from the house to the car. Opening the front door, I see there’s at least an inch of water covering the front path. I’m not sure how waterproof my boots are, so I run on tiptoe to my front gate, expecting to feel water seeping through to my socks any minute. Rain races down the road in fast-flowing rivulets, skipping over the drains and gathering in the dips and hollows of the uneven tarmac.