The Sister(198)

Stella began, ‘But, Mr Marshall—’

Victor interrupted, his voice becoming firm and authoritative.’ She doesn’t know who she was before; there’s absolutely no recollection, even under hypnosis. So we’re dealing with amnesia as well as captive bonding. Tests have shown she is brain damaged, but perhaps worse than that ... for you at any rate, she really believes she is Cathy Boyle,’ he said grimly. ‘And that’s just for starters.’

Miller kept quiet. Stella did the talking. ‘Surely she remembers something about who she was – is, I mean Cathy and Kath, they’re too close for coincidence?’

‘That’s true. Maybe the kidnapper named her after the ID she had with her?’

Stella was firm. ‘No, that never happened. You see they found her bag; she didn’t have it with her.’

Victor studied her face, concerned. ‘It’s a dilemma – do we rehabilitate her as Cathy Shaw or Cathy Boyle, or do we try to re-establish her original identity, Kathy Bird, one she hasn’t existed in for twenty odd years?’

After a quick exchange of looks, Miller spoke at last. ‘Whichever one gives her the best chance of a future.’

The therapist stroked the top of his shaven head with the palm of his hand, and looked at Stella, eyes filled with compassion. ‘She did remember one thing under hypnosis, I didn’t want to tell you just yet, you’ve had enough to cope with, but it might just help you to decide.’

‘What is it?’ she said, agitated. ‘I want to know.’

‘That scar on her top lip. At first, I thought it was an old one, you know, from a harelip. Well, I asked her about it when I had her regressed, and suggestible. She – she remembers him doing it with a pair of scissors.’

With each new revelation, little by little, Stella had come undone. She broke down.

By the time they left the therapists office, she was in a state of shock.

They returned Kathy to the hospital.





He’d driven Stella home. She barely said a word.

He’d been unable to volunteer his point of view, while Kathy was in the car, so he said, ‘To me it’s obvious. She has no future as Cathy Boyle. That part of her life is over now, it wasn’t real. She needs to be Kathy Bird again, even if it means dealing with the loss of your parents and everything else that’s happened in between’

Stella didn’t answer him, and he didn’t push her.

Arriving back at her house, he entered with her to check the house was clear. The telephone rang. It was the hospital. Not long after they'd left, Kathy had gone into a catatonic state.

Miller asked if there was anybody she could call, who could stay with her. Stella regarded him with a strange, hurt look. ‘No, no, I’ll be fine. I just need to be alone for a few days.’





She didn’t ask you to come now. It’s a mistake. You should have respected her wishes and left her alone. He decided to come back another time.

The door opened. He hadn’t knocked. Surprised at the sight of him half-turned away from her doorstep, she shot him a hurt look. Apart from the pain in her eyes, her face was expressionless. Still in her dressing gown, the face pale with dark rings below her eyes, the unbrushed hair combined to tell a story. A whiff of alcohol caught on his inward breath; he tasted her despair. ‘Oh, Stella,’ was all he managed to say.

Without answering, she turned from the door; he followed her in, closing it behind him.

In the gloom of the lounge, she flopped onto the sofa and stared unseeing at the television. A strange carnival of lights projected onto her face from soundless pictures.

Stood in the doorway, he sought a connection with her. None came. Purposefully he strode across the room and swished the curtains back. Light flooded in. Despite its greyness, she cowered, her eyes squinted against it.

‘Do-o-on’t’ she said, in a cracked, parched voice that lacked conviction.

‘Stella, look at me.’

She turned to face him, her gaze on his cheekbones, avoiding eye contact.

‘Talk to me Stella – I can help.’

A moment passed; she took a deep breath and exhaled it as a sigh. ‘I look a right junkie mess don’t I?’ She turned her arms out, exposing the forearms, allowing a brief glimpse before lowering them again.

Track marks! The visible scars of her brief captivity had all but disappeared, but deeper wounds were left for her to deal with.

‘Considering what you’ve been through, I think that’s the least of your worries.’ He took a seat next to her on the sofa, and clasping his hands firmly together, held them between his knees.

‘Shall I get us some tea?’

‘I don’t want anything.’

‘Have you eaten?’

She didn’t turn, but sought him briefly, looking out from the corner of her eye. ‘Do I look like I’m in the mood to eat anything?’

‘No, but that’s why I asked. You should have something; it’ll help,’ he said.

‘Help me with what? I was better off not knowing what happened!’ Her face flushed with anger. ‘And I feel so guilty about how I feel!’ She wrung her hands together. ‘God, I hate myself for how I feel!’

‘Stella, none of this was your fault, but you’ve got to move on for your own sake and Kathy’s, too. You were looking for work before Ryan died, a lot has happened between times I know, but how about starting back with me. I’ve got a job that’s going to keep me busy for a while, and I could do with someone I can trust to look after things. What do you say?’