Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,77

have that patient treatment plan we need to discuss, though. We’ll talk later, yes?’

‘Okay.’ Reading between the lines, Emily nodded. He was taking the sample personally. He’d clearly guessed that she might be concerned if he didn’t. Managing a small smile back, she followed Nicky out.

Once in reception, she found her bag and the keys therein, handed them to Nicky and, reminding her to sign the file out, braced herself to face Sally. There were two patients due in for blood tests immediately after lunch, she recalled, thankful that her brain seemed to be functioning on some level. With the police due back and a full evening surgery ahead, they needed to get organised. People were scared. They would need reassuring. Emily was determined to offer that reassurance, whatever rumours might be flying around. Also to be the epitome of efficiency. The person responsible for all this wanted her to fall apart, for her life to fall apart, just as the lives of the recipients of the letters had. They wanted things at the practice to fall apart, for which Jake would then blame her. Emily had decided she would die before she allowed that to happen – although, she pondered, given how seriously the other victims were suffering, perhaps that was the intended outcome.

Was it her? Seeing Sally appear from the treatment room, looking as attractive and immaculate as ever, she gave her a guarded look. Was she the one who was drugging her? Sending out those disgusting letters? It had to be the same person.

‘Ah, at last.’ Sally beamed and hurried towards her. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to. Do you fancy a quick cuppa?’

‘No,’ Emily said, panic hitting her as the reality of being slowly poisoned sank in. ‘I’ve not long had one, thanks,’ she added quickly, not wanting to alert Sally to the fact that she knew she was being fed drugs. She wasn’t likely to catch her in the act if she did that.

‘Oh, right.’ Sally eyed her curiously. ‘Not to worry, I didn’t really want one anyway. I’ve been peeing all morning as it is.’

Emily eyed her curiously in turn as Sally came around to hook an arm through hers. ‘I wanted to let you know I’ve confirmed the sixties band for Ed’s birthday bash. I hope that’s okay?’

‘Yes, fine,’ Emily said, feeling slightly derailed by her friendliness. Also relieved, she conceded, that Sally appeared to be acting perfectly normally, chatty and bubbly as always.

‘Brilliant.’ Sally nodded, pleased. ‘I thought with it only being a week away it might be better to grab them rather than relying on Dave to DJ. Don’t get me wrong, he’s good – until he’s on his third pint, at least – but I thought it would be nice to make things a bit special for Ed and Joyce. He does so much for the village, after all.’

Listening to her friend, who, for all her tittle-tattling, was still the caring person she’d thought she was, Emily swallowed back the lump of guilt lodged in her throat. She’d been wrong about Sally. Wrong about Jake. She’d played right into the hands of the psychopath who’d sent the email and those vile letters. It seemed almost as if they’d known she would. As if they really knew her and the insecurity she felt; her deep-rooted belief that no matter how many times Jake told her he loved her, he couldn’t possibly. She’d lived in fear that one day he would find out her secret and realise that whatever feelings he had for her were misplaced. She still felt that fear.

Her mind went to Kara and the plaintive look in her eyes when she’d reached out to her in her dream; she was sure her sister had been trying to convey a warning. She thought of the man she’d loved in her youth, who had reciprocated with the worst kind of twisted love that became control. Even now, she could remember clearly and with a cold dread his parting words to her. ‘I know you, Emily! I fucking love you!’ he’d shouted, right there in the courtroom, his face contorted with rage as they’d tried to lead him away. ‘I’ll find you, I’m warning you. You belong to me!’

‘So, how are you?’ Sally asked, snapping her back to the present. ‘I called you last night, but your phone went to voicemail.’

‘Yes, sorry.’ Emily drew in a breath, attempting to banish her demons from her head. ‘I felt a bit off colour,