‘No. I’ve already told you the truth.’
Without another word, the inspector nodded and strode out of the room. It was clear he had no intention of pursuing my enquiry, so my only other option was to suggest to Nick that he get hold of Rosie’s phone. By now she had no doubt deleted any photos she had taken or created, but Nick would be able to find someone who could restore them. It would be best to ask someone independent to work on the phone. Even if I could find the deleted photos myself, my testimony was hardy likely to be believed. I planned what to say to him as I was escorted back to the entrance of the police station. Nick wasn’t there.
‘Your husband is speaking to the DI,’ the constable who had accompanied me informed me. ‘He said he won’t be long and you should wait for him here.’
I waited for Nick as patiently as I could and at last he appeared, looking tired and irascible.
‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ he muttered.
Once we were in the car and driving away, he burst out, ‘I’ve tried to tell that bloody detective he’s got the wrong end of the stick, but he seems convinced they have some sort of case against you. Damn it, why did you do it?’
He glanced at me, his blue eyes frantic with worry.
‘I didn’t– I mean I did send those messages, but that was all,’ I stammered. ‘You have to believe me. I thought you were having an affair and I was jealous. I went crazy.’
‘You are crazy. Why on earth would you think that?’
‘Listen, Nick, it was that reporter, Rosie. Do you remember her?’
‘The one writing a feature on us?’ He laughed bitterly. ‘About the ideal couple to be put in charge of training impressionable young minds. The perfect role models, aren’t we.’
‘That reporter told me point blank you were having an affair. And she showed me photos of you and Sue on her phone. You have to get hold of that phone. I don’t care how you do it, but you have to look at her photos. She had photos of you and Sue–’
Nick shook his head. ‘No. No more of this, Louise. Listen, I’ve spoken to Ingrid, and she’s confident she can get you off with a caution for sending those emails, on the basis of diminished responsibility, and your previously unblemished record. And they can’t charge you with some trumped up murder charge simply because they think you may have a motive. That’s not going to happen. They don’t have a leg to stand on, and they know it. Ingrid will come and see us first thing this afternoon, and make sure all this gets sorted out as quickly as possible. You’re not even a suspect, because although they think you had a motive, they have no evidence placing you at Sue’s property on the evening she was killed. Ingrid is quite clear that just because they can prove you had a grudge against Sue doesn’t mean they can charge you with her murder. And once it’s over, we’ll talk about everything that’s happened. Whatever the outcome, I’m going to look after you.’
‘I don’t need looking after,’ I muttered ungratefully. ‘I’m not an invalid.’
‘No, but you’re not well. I’ve arranged for you to see someone.’ He hesitated.
‘Someone?’
‘I’ve spoken to Ingrid. We’ve discussed this and we both agree it’s the best thing, for your defence, and for your future health.’
‘My health? You mean my mental health, don’t you? You think I’m crazy. You want to get me committed. That would suit you, wouldn’t it. You don’t want to live with a head case.’
‘I’m not going to argue with you about it,’ Nick said wearily. ‘Please, Louise, do this for me. I just want you to get well.’
‘I am well. I’m perfectly lucid.’
In the end, I agreed to talk to a psychiatrist if Nick went to see Rosie.
‘I’m not making a deal here,’ he replied, growing testy.
‘I’m not talking to anyone unless you go and see her and get hold of her phone,’ I insisted.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to steal her phone.’
‘You’re just borrowing it, Nick. Or don’t you want anyone to know what’s on it?’
Pulling up in the drive, he threw me a helpless look. ‘Come on, let’s get inside and then we can talk.’
Watching him walk to the front door, slightly bowed like a man beaten down by years of hardship, I wondered what effect my sleepless nights were having on me. As though he could read my mind, he turned in the doorway.
‘You look dreadful. But don’t worry, we’re going to get through this together. One day we’ll look back on all this...’
He turned away. I knew what he had stopped himself from saying; there was no way we were ever going to laugh about any of this.
Chapter 23
‘I went to see Rosie,’ Nick told me the following evening.
‘And? Why didn’t you say so at once? When did you see her?’
‘This morning. I went to see her while you were still in bed.’
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’
‘I wanted you to stay in bed for as long as possible. You needed the rest.’
He was right about that. After a disturbed night, I hadn’t woken up until after midday and felt much better for my lie in.
‘You asked me to speak to her so I did.’
‘And? What did she say? Did she tell you exactly what she told me? Tell me what she said! Tell me!’
‘Louise, I want you to calm down.’
‘I’m calm, I’m calm!’ I replied, infuriated by his composure. ‘What did she say?’
‘She said she didn’t know anything about any alleged affair between me and Sue.’
‘But she was the one who told me about it in the first place. She showed me photos of the two of you, kissing and– there was more–’
‘She flatly denied having said anything of the sort to you, and she claimed she didn’t know anything about the photos you say she showed you.’
‘She would deny it, wouldn’t she. But did you manage to get hold of her phone?’
‘Yes, yes, I looked at her phone. Rosie offered to accompany me to the police station so we could get it checked.’
I frowned. ‘Do you mean she went with you?’
‘Yes. She volunteered to go to the police station with me to get her phone checked out. It was her idea.’
‘And?’ I pressed him. ‘Did you find the photos of you and Sue?’
‘No, no one could find them. They never existed. There were no photos of me on it anywhere.’
‘She must have another phone. Go back and get it and show it to the police. They’ll be able to find whatever she’s hidden.’
‘I just told you, I already did. Rosie and I went to the police station together and waited while they checked her work phone and her private phone. They found nothing on either of them. Louise, what you’re saying, it didn’t happen. You imagined it.’
‘I didn’t. Rosie told me about your affair and she showed me photos of you and Sue, together.’ Just the memory of those images made me shudder. ‘How was I supposed to react?’
‘Not by sending anonymous emails. Why didn’t you speak to me? Ask me about it? I would have put your mind at rest.’
‘Speak to you? As if you were going to come clean about it.’
‘Come clean about what? How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not true. Louise, surely you can see that nothing you’re saying makes any sense.’
The more he talked, the more I questioned my memory of what had happened. Even the police had been unable to find any evidence of the photos I had seen on Rosie’s phone. Gazing into my husband’s eyes and seeing how genuinely troubled he was, I started to doubt my own sanity.
‘Do you really think I imagined it all?’ I whispered.
‘I don’t know what to say to you, if you keep insisting this fantasy is true.’
‘But what do you think? Am I going mad?’
In that moment, I really thought I must have lost my grip on reality.
Nick shrugged. ‘That’s what we’re going to find out. Whatever’s g
oing on, we’re going to get you through this, I promise, however long it takes.’
The psychiatrist who had been recommended to Nick, in confidence, by a school governor, was based in central London.
‘I said it was for the wife of an old friend of mine,’ he explained, confirming my suspicions that he wanted to keep this as quiet as possible.
Of course if my case went to court, we would be unable to keep it completely under wraps, but Nick was optimistic that we could avoid that.
‘Do we really have to go into London?’ I asked, when Nick told me where we were going. ‘Surely there’s someone closer to us?’
‘It’s less than an hour on the train. Come on, get your coat. It looks like it might rain.’
‘I wasn’t planning on going out without a coat,’ I muttered, hating the way he had been treating me like a child ever since we had left the police station.
Already at the car, Nick didn’t appear to hear me.
‘Come on,’ he called out, ‘we don’t want to miss the train.’
I had no idea how much this jaunt was going to cost us, but didn’t dare ask. I knew what Nick’s answer would be. Somehow I doubted he would use our medical insurance to pay the bill, because he was keen to hush up what he was calling “a psychotic episode” brought on by overwork. That was probably why he was dragging me all the way to London to see a psychiatrist. We were less likely to be recognised there.
‘We’re going to get you better and put this behind us,’ he told me several times. ‘And we’re going to get you more help around the house. You’ve been overdoing it, and I’ve been neglecting you shamefully. Next year won’t be nearly as stressful, I promise. I’m going to make sure of that.’
I laughed. ‘Overdoing it? All I’ve done is sit around for a year while you’ve been running the school. This is nothing to do with working or not working. This is... I don’t know what it is. What’s happening to me, Nick?’
He nodded. ‘Hold on, love. We’re going to get you the best treatment money can buy, and you’re going to get better. You have to get better.’
Hearing the desperation in his voice, I struggled to hold back my tears. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re the one who needs support, not me. I should be here for you, not the other way round.’
‘None of this is your fault,’ he replied firmly, but I knew he must blame me for sending those crazy emails.
I would have given anything to be able to travel back in time and delete the emails without sending them. It had taken less than a minute to risk destroying my marriage, and our happiness, not to mention Sue’s life. ‘I wish I could turn the clock back,’ I said.
Nick didn’t answer and we travelled the rest of the way without speaking, maintaining our silence as we waited in the reception area of the smart block where the psychiatrist worked.
‘I’ll be here when you come out,’ Nick told me, when I was finally summoned to enter the consulting room, as though I was in need of his reassurance.
‘You don’t have to stay. I can find my own way home.’
But we both knew he would wait for me.
The psychiatrist was nothing like I had expected. In place of the distinguished grey-haired gentleman I had prepared to meet, I was introduced to a snappily dressed woman of about my age. Her shoes were pointed, with fairly high heels, and she wore a well-fitting navy trouser suit with a white shirt open at the neck.
‘Hello, Louise.’ She greeted me with a smile as firm as her handshake.
Ushering me into her consulting room, she closed the door on Nick without even glancing at him. She was making it clear that this meeting was for me, and no one else.
Despite the circumstances of our meeting, I liked Dr Scott and felt confident in her ability to dismiss the question mark that had been raised over the state of my mind. I was further reassured when instead of inviting me to lie down on a couch, she offered me a chair. Seated opposite one another, we exchanged a smile.
‘Would you like to tell me why you’re here?’ she suggested. ‘You don’t mind if I take notes?’
‘Please, go ahead.’
She smiled again. ‘So, Louise, why have you come to see me?’
‘It was my husband’s idea, and my lawyer’s–’
She nodded. ‘Please, start right at the beginning.’
So I did. No longer smiling, Dr Scott listened gravely as I told her about Nick’s new job, and how happy we both were, and how pleased I had been to play a supportive role in his career move.
When I reached the part about the interview with Rosie, and her revelation that Nick was unfaithful, the psychiatrist’s expression didn’t alter. She continued making notes, looking up at me as she scribbled, no doubt trying to gauge my own response to my story. I did my best to keep my face impassive, but as I talked about the images Rosie had shown me on her phone, my eyes filled with tears and I felt myself shaking, caught off guard by the pain of reliving the moment when my life had fallen apart.
‘The thing is, I really believed it was true. I mean, I believed he was having an affair. But Nick went to see Rosie and she denied it all. She said she never told me anything like that. He had her phone checked by the police and there was nothing on it. Nothing about Nick and Sue. I– I must have imagined it all. Yet I saw the photos of the two of them together, I know I did. It wasn’t a dream, although it felt as though it was at the time. But the photos don’t exist.’
The psychiatrist nodded. ‘You’re doing very well.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You recognise you suffered from a temporary delusion, probably brought on by the stress of your new situation. You mentioned you felt your life had taken on almost a dreamlike quality. What did you mean by that?’
‘Dreamlike? Yes, in the sense that I’d given up my home, and my work, and moved to a different area, leaving behind everything that had previously defined me as a person. Reality felt different. But I had only moved on to face a new challenge. Doesn’t that happen to anyone who moves area for a new job? It’s not exactly unusual.’
She nodded but didn’t answer my question.
I was very quiet on the train home, thinking about everything the psychiatrist had said. As soon as Nick went out, I googled schizophrenia.
“Schizophrenia is a mental disorder characterised by abnormal social behaviour and failure to understand reality. Common symptoms include false beliefs, unclear or confused thinking, hearing voices that others do not, reduced social engagement and emotional expression, and a lack of motivation.”
With a thrill of terror, I understood what must be happening to me. My mental disorder had cost Sue her happiness, and possibly her life. I wondered whether Nick would still remain committed to getting through this together once he knew his wife was mentally disturbed.
Chapter 24
For the next couple of days, I kept to the house, only venturing outside to sit in the garden. It was a pleasure to sit on the patio that lovely summer, looking at roses and dahlias, wallflowers, delphiniums and fuchsias, begonias and lobelia, in a profusion of bright colours. Nick was out a lot of the time, supervising maintenance and improvements around the site, but he returned home at regular intervals. When I told him it felt as though he was checking up on me, he gave an embarrassed laugh.
‘If you mean do I feel bad about leaving you on your own so much of the time, yes, of course I do. It’s the holidays and I want to spend time with you, but there’s just so much to do while the pupils are off for the summer.’
‘It’s fine,’ I assured him. ‘You crack on. I’m very happy pottering around here by myself.’
‘Why don’t you see some of the others? I know a lot of the staff are away, but Angela’s around for the next few weeks and she’d love it if you asked her for a game of tennis. I’m sure some exercise in the fresh air would make you feel better. And the administrative staff are around, on and off, all summer. They’re up to their ears in work right now and would appreciate some help. You cou
ld help out with vetting the overseas entry papers if you want something useful to do.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied in as frosty a tone as I could muster, ‘but I’ve got plenty to do here to keep me usefully occupied. We still haven’t finished unpacking all the books, for a start, and the whole house could do with a spring clean.’
‘I can send Verity over, in fact she can organise a team of cleaners to–’
‘No, thank you. I know you’re trying to be helpful, but that won’t be necessary. I’ve got Verity’s number if I want to call her, but I really don’t want a team of cleaners to come over and sort the place out. I want to do it myself. Please, leave the house to me.’
I just wanted to be left alone to fill my head with plans for cleaning and laundering, dusting and polishing, wearing myself out with physical work so that I would fall into bed too exhausted to stay awake, and too tired to dream. The only alternative was to go to the doctor and ask for a prescription for sleeping pills. I was reluctant to go down that route, yet I had to find a way to rest. Alcohol didn’t help. Although I was drinking more than ever, my sleep remained disturbed, and my nightmares were growing increasingly vivid and violent. When my dreams didn’t wake me, Nick sometimes roused me in the middle of the night, calling my name and seizing my shoulders and shaking me out of my sleep.
‘Louise, Louise, wake up. Wake up!’
‘What? What is it?’ I would enquire drowsily.
Sometimes I snapped awake at once, still shivering with shock at my nightmare. The scenario differed from dream to dream, but the ghastly figure lying on the bed appeared in them all. Sometimes her dead face spoke to me. ‘Why did you do it? Why? Why?’ And my dreaming self could only shudder and back away in horror from the knowledge of my guilt. ‘I have sinned, I have sinned,’ I told the ghastly effigy that haunted my dreams. ‘Mea culpa, mea culpa, forgive me, oh forgive me so that I may forgive myself.’
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