Nearest Thing to Crazy (38 page)

‘You look a bit brighter,’ he said.

‘Laura came to see me. Has she spoken to you?’

‘No. I missed her. She sent me a text saying she needed to talk, but I thought I’d see her later, after you.’
‘Good. She’s got a lot to tell you.’ He looked puzzled, curious.
‘That book of Ellie’s, the one she says she’s writing . . .’

‘God, Ellie and her bloody books. What now?’ He raked his fingers through his hair and I realized just how exhausted he must be. I had mixed feelings about him being here, because I was pleased to see him, really pleased to see him, but I was just so disappointed in him, in us, that he never believed me. That he’d brought me to this. And if it hadn’t been for Laura . . . well God knows what would have happened to me.

‘You know I don’t really understand about computers. But Laura was told by Ellie that she could read her novel on hers.’

‘Okay. And . . .’

‘Well the thing is, apparently Laura closed the file down by mistake. And when she went to reopen it, the mouse pointer showed up some information, about when the file was modified, or something like that, does that make sense?’

‘Yeah, I suppose.’

‘Well this book she’s writing, the last time she modified the file was almost a year ago.’

He looked confused. He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand what the relevance is.’

Even in my drug-muddled head, I could see the relevance straight away when Laura told me. Was he going to continue to be deliberately obtuse?

‘It means that she hasn’t touched the book for nearly a year – she hasn’t been writing it, it was already written a long time ago. It’s all been a cover up. Oh, for God’s sake Dan. Do I have to spell it out? It means that she’s been busy writing another book, the one that I read.’

‘I can see it means that she hasn’t edited that file, but there could be other files, there could be an explanation.’

‘Well, yes. I suppose there could. And you might choose to believe that, especially as you always seem so inclined to give Ellie the benefit of the doubt – even to the extent that you have had me put in here.’

‘Cass, don’t.’

‘Let me finish, Dan. It’s time I was heard properly. And believed, for once.’

He just stared at me and, as usual, it was impossible to guess what was going on in that mind of his.

‘Laura saw another file. It was a file called Laura. So naturally she was curious, and opened it. And guess what . . .’

‘Go on . . .’

‘It had the book in it. Gaslight. The one I told you about. Laura read the first chapter, maybe a bit more. That was enough for her to know. So she went home. Picked up her USB stick, whatever that is, and downloaded it. So she’s got a copy. She spent most of today reading it. It exists, Dan. We’ve got a copy. I wasn’t making it up – none of this should have happened to me. And you didn’t believe me. You chose to exploit my insecurities once again.’ I hadn’t realized just how angry I was. Maybe I’d been holding it back, maybe the drugs were doing their bit, numbing my emotions. But now it seemed like the real me was finally taking shape again. I wasn’t the watery, indistinct shadow in the background. I was me – Cassandra – with a slow, simmering, but undeniable rage growing in my belly.

‘Oh, and I almost forgot the most important news. She’s not Laura’s donor mother – but I know you never believed she was, did you? Laura wrote to the real donor when she was eighteen, thanks to my mother – so that part was true – and discovered that she’d died some years ago. She got a letter from her husband telling her all about it. That’s so sad. But you know, Laura said she loved me. That she’d decided there was no point in telling us about it. Just to let things lie as they were, because she didn’t want to change things between us. That I was the only mother she could ever have. So isn’t that nice?’

I was on a roll. I went on, ‘But I don’t understand why. What was it about Ellie that made you want to protect her? Why did you believe
her
over
me
, Dan? That’s what I find so hard to understand.’

Dan’s face was going through some weird contortions. Like he was really struggling with something . . . maybe realizing just what a shit he had been to me. About how disloyal he was not to believe me. And you know what, suddenly I felt almost sorry for him. Because he was so weak – pathetic, even – like a wounded and confused little boy. But at the same time, for once I felt a surge of power, a power that made me feel I didn’t have to mentally creep around the edges of Dan’s sensitivities, his moods, his approval. For once I was free from guilt, free from all the lies. I hadn’t realized just how much of a hold he had had over me. But suddenly it seemed clear that he’d been able to use my own deceit against me, as if it was a way to keep me down and submissive and in the place where he wanted me to be. It was as if a veil was slowly lifting from my eyes and I could at last see everything.

And as I watched his face, his fight with his emotions – his despair, even – he seemed to sink in the chair. His shoulders collapsed and this time both of his hands went up to his hair, tearing at the silvery threads. ‘This is all just so difficult . . . so bloody difficult . .
. I don’t know, Cass, I just don’t know what to say, what to do. You’ve always been so fragile, you know. I didn’t want to see you going over the edge again, and now it seems that I’ve achieved the opposite of what I wanted. I just don’t know what to do to make it up to you.’

‘Perhaps you could start by being honest with me, perhaps now we could all start being honest with each other. Now that Laura and I have settled our truth, do you think it might be time for us to settle ours? Don’t you think I deserve it after all of this? I want to know. I really want to know what the fuck happened in Rome.’

CHAPTER

22

‘Oh God, Cass. I don’t know what to say . . . it just doesn’t seem right, being in here. Talking in here. With other people around us.’

‘So you’ve got something to tell me, then.’ I felt as though a clamp had been fastened onto the valves of my heart, squeezing so hard that it started to thump in my chest in protest. I could almost hear the blood racing through my ears. I could feel myself on the verge of a panic attack, but I concentrated on breathing in out, in out, in out. I tried to keep my expression blank. I didn’t want to show weakness in front of him. I wanted to stay like this, for as long as I could, in control for once. I just had to hold myself together.

‘Perhaps you could take me home. Give me a minute, and I’ll see you in the car park.’

‘Are you sure? Will they let you?’

‘Oh come on, Dan. It’s not as if there’s anything wrong with me, is there? I think once everyone knows the truth they’ll be falling over themselves to apologize for having me here in the first place, don’t you? I’ll get my things and I’ll meet you outside.’

‘Okay. I’ll be waiting.’

‘Good.’

‘Would you like a glass of wine, Cass?’

‘Yes, please. And by the way, I didn’t drink two bottles that night. I haven’t been hitting the bottle, just in case you should get any ideas of that sort.’

‘No.’ He opened the fridge and took a bottle out. The bottle was open. He took a couple of glasses from the cupboard, filled both and handed one to me.

The phone rang. Dan looked at it warily, then picked it up. ‘Oh, yes. Hello, this is Daniel Burton. Yes. That’s right. No, she’s fine. She’s here with me now. Yes, she’s quite settled . . . No, I don’t see any need for that, but I’ll call if there’s a problem . . . Yes. I’ll be with her . . . no I won’t leave her alone, you have my word . . . Yes, tomorrow. Fine . . . by ten o’clock. Thanks.’

‘The hospital,’ he said, needlessly. ‘They were worried. They want you back tomorrow. So we’ll have to deal with that then, okay?’

‘Fine. Do you mind if we go outside? I feel really claustrophobic in here. Like the house is a prison, though I can’t imagine why I’d feel like that . . .’

‘No.’

He followed me meekly as we stepped outside. It was almost six o’clock and it would soon be dark. The air felt fresh and clean in my nostrils. It was good to be away from the stuffy ward. And my head was beginning to clear. I wondered briefly if the alcohol would react with the drugs, but I was feeling dangerous, reckless, almost heady with a new-found sense of purpose, and confidence in myself. While Dan seemed to have reduced in stature, I felt taller, more substantial, that I had a right to occupy my own space, and a right to be me for once. It’s strange how profound thoughts can flash through the mind so very quickly; in the space of time it took us to walk around to the terrace I had analysed the dynamics of our relationship. I hadn’t realized just how apologetic I had been feeling all our married life; as if I was somehow lucky to still have Dan, lucky that he hadn’t chosen to leave me, or take Laura away with him. I suppose above all, what helped was the realization that I had Laura’s love, and that despite Dan’s attempts to make her seem more his than mine, it hadn’t worked. I also found myself wondering whether whatever he told me, whatever he confessed to me, would make a difference to how I would feel about him in the future, whether I could feel any worse towards him than I did right now.

We each pulled out a chair on opposite sides of the table. I wrapped my pashmina around my shoulders and snuggled into its warmth, at the same time clutching the chilled glass between my hands. And I waited for Dan to tell his story.

‘It happened when Laura was about a year old.’

‘What happened?’ I said so quietly that I thought he might not have heard me.

‘The affair.’

My breath caught and I wondered if he had heard
that.
‘Go on,’ I said, feeling every muscle in my body tense. Be strong, I told myself. Be strong.

‘She worked in Rome. It was stupid. God, how I regretted it. I can’t tell you how much, Cass.’

‘Rome. You were always having to go there, to see clients. And then that time in the hotel . . .’

‘I know, you were right. You can’t imagine what a shit I felt. It’s no excuse, but you were so ill, so vulnerable. I didn’t want to push you over the edge. I should never have done it. Like they say, a moment of weakness and a lifetime of regret.’

‘Who was she?’

It was funny how shocked he was over that simple question. I mean, obviously I’d want to know who it was, surely that was the most natural question, the one he would have most expected.

‘I thought you’d guessed . . . I’m sorry . . .’

‘Guessed?’

‘No . . . no . . .’ he shook his head, took a large gulp of wine, reached into his pocket for a packet of cigarettes. For once he said, ‘Do you mind?’

I shrugged. Then I took one myself. ‘You’ve never smoked. You’ll hate it.’

‘Actually I do sometimes. I just chose not to tell you,’ I said.

‘Really?’ He was shocked again, and that felt good. Like I was somehow getting my own back. But of course I wasn’t. How could I?

‘How would I have guessed?’

‘Ellie. It was Ellie.’

It was like he’d punched me. I gasped and the world started to spin. I heard myself murmuring, ‘No . . . no . . . no . . . no . . .’ over and over. ‘Dan . . . no . . . no . . .’

I was struggling for each breath, panting. The unlit cigarette fell out of my trembling fingers. Dan picked it up, lit it and handed it to me. I took a drag on it and the hit made me feel even dizzier. I coughed as the smoke hit my lungs. ‘I don’t understand. How . . . when . . . her being here. All this time? You knew her? That day? That first lunch? And all the time you
knew
her?’ I was shrieking at him. ‘That’s why she was here? Because of you? And you knew? And all that time, what she was doing to me . . . you knew her? You brought her here? You had her here, in
our house
? Oh my God, Dan. Oh . . . my . . . God!’

He hung his head, and I knew he couldn’t look at me. At least he had the grace to be ashamed of himself. Once again thoughts flew around my head like missiles striking targets, targets which then exploded into thousands of fragments of further thoughts struggling to make connections.

‘Please,’ I said. ‘Would you tell me the whole story?’

‘I met her in Rome. I was in the hotel one night and she approached me at the bar. It’s the usual excuse – too much to drink, away from home. I was worried about you – depressed a bit, too, if I’m honest. We ended up in my room. It was like a bit of escape from everything for me, and I wanted to forget all about it the next morning, like it never happened. But I didn’t reckon on what she was really like. If only I’d known. I wasn’t in love with her, Cass. I was in love with you. God, this is so hard. It was just sex. I was stupid. But she wouldn’t let go. It went on for about six months, I suppose, but when I said that I really never wanted to see her again, that she had to leave me alone, she told me she was pregnant.’