in the kitchen with a coffee, the soft hum of the fridge company of sorts. I’m edgy. It’s natural I will be, but I know there’s more to my inner turmoil than anniversary anxiety.
Marie.
Again, I try her mobile. Again, I leave a message.
Where is she? Something is wrong.
I call Tash, wanting to talk everything through with someone impartial. Carly’s as emotional as I am at the moment.
Tash doesn’t answer.
I have to try and find Marie.
Carrying my coffee, I make my way into George’s office. His computer glows as I shift the mouse, Google already loaded. I open a new tab and search for theatres. For the next couple of hours I ring around, asking if they have a production running for the next six weeks. If they know of an actress who has broken her ankle. If they’ve heard of Marie.
Drawing a blank, I try drama companies next and although I reach a few people who know Marie, who have worked with her in the past, none of them know where she is right now.
Despite the police believing she’s gone on tour, I’m not convinced. There is somewhere I could go for answers. The thought leaves a dragging feeling in my stomach but tomorrow, however anxious it makes me, I have to try.
It’s late. My eyes are stinging. I close the webpage and then decide to shut the computer down altogether. It’s gone eleven and George won’t be working any more tonight. One by one I close the tabs, until I stumble across something that shakes me to my core.
George.
Why has he been searching for this?
A lump rises in my throat. I reach out and touch the screen lightly with two fingers as though I am touching his face.
As though I am asking why he has betrayed me.
Chapter Twenty-One
George
Now
George’s conscience pricks at him. He can’t sleep. Leah was already in bed when he crept through the door at eleven thirty, silent and ashamed. Next to him she breathes slowly and evenly. It’s not her usual sleep pattern; there are no whimpers, no tossing and turning, and he wonders if she’s faking it.
He wonders if everyone is faking something.
This morning, after he had dropped Leah at work following the burning shame of sitting in front of police officers who knew her history, he had gone home and googled. Read the results with a heavy heart. He was so engrossed in the things he had found out, he was running late for his next meeting so on a whim he decided to skip it and instead had called in to Francesca’s clinic. Had sat in her waiting area to catch her between appointments. She was surprised to see him.
‘Sorry, this will only take five minutes,’ he had said apologetically. ‘It’s important.’
She had led him into her office. He didn’t take a seat.
‘I think I should action a Power of Attorney,’ he had blurted out.
Francesca’s face had fallen into shock. ‘What’s brought this on?’
‘Leah’s relapsing. She says she’s going to make an appointment to see you but I don’t think she has?’ George asked.
‘I can’t disclose patient details, George. You know that.’
‘But would you support me? Be prepared to say Leah has diminished mental capacity?’
‘How can I possibly say that? I haven’t assessed her.’
‘But you know her really well. You know us both. You remember what happened the last time?’
‘Of course I do. Who could forget that but—’
‘She’s heading the same way again. I’m sorry to suddenly spring this on you. I’ve only just looked into it and I was passing and… well. Cards on the table. I’m scared. Leah was so close to being sectioned before and where would that have left me, financially? I’d have had to cut down on work to look after Archie and I wouldn’t have been able to access Leah’s royalties or her accounts. Not to mention the fact the house is in her name.’
‘But she wasn’t sectioned,’ Francesca had said. ‘We uncovered the reason behind her behaviour and…’
‘I know.’ George ran his hand over his chin. ‘But I’m beginning to wonder whether she would have been better off… Whether she might be better off…’
‘George, I don’t like where this conversation is going. I can’t condone you considering institutionalizing your wife. Besides, she’s no longer a patient of mine. What you’re asking is unethical and—’
‘Sorry… it’s just the anniversary.’ George felt hot. Too hot. He loosened his tie and undid his top button. ‘It’s Archie I’m thinking of, that’s all.’
‘My next patient is waiting.’ Francesca had said