by Rosie Howard
He withdrew his hand and returned his gaze to the road. They were still negotiating heavy traffic, edging their way down and across to the road that would take them home.
Maddy made the mammoth effort to move her head so she could stare out of the passenger window. It took several goes.
Time passed. The traffic thinned and the car’s speed increased a little. Soon they would be out of town, travelling along the darkened country roads back to Havenbury.
‘Okay,’ she said.
‘To what?’
‘I’ll see Duncan. But it has to be tonight.’
‘I don’t know about that. You’re really shattered. He might not be free …’
‘It has to be this evening. I can’t go through another night …’ she said, anguished, staring at Ben with pleading eyes. ‘I just can’t.’
He took his eyes off the road and looked at her.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let me see what I can do. Are we going back to the Grainstore?’
‘My mum’s there. She and Patrick have fallen out.’
‘Ah, I’d forgotten that. Looks like it’s my place, then.’
Steering with one hand, Ben pulled into a side road and got out his mobile. Duncan answered straight away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The next thing Maddy knew they were braking sharply.
‘Sorry,’ said Ben, seeing he had woken her. ‘Car in front. Caught me by surprise.’
She sat up to see they were at the red lights at the bottom of the Havenbury Magna high street, just past the docks and Sails nightclub.
‘That’s okay,’ she said, her fists balling in tension. The whole Jonno, Patrick and Helen situation came flooding back, with – of course – the underlying fear that had dogged her all the months she had spent there. Tears rose and her heart quickened.
‘Anxious?’
‘Same old, same old,’ she said, taking a deep breath and trying to let it out slowly.
‘Nearly there.’
‘I actually don’t know where you live,’ she said. ‘Which is weird when you think about it.’
‘Not really,’ said Ben. ‘I’ve been trying to be the perfect gentleman, remember.’
‘You mean you’re going to stop being the perfect gentleman now?’ Hopefully he was.
They were bumping down a rough country road she didn’t recognise now, with the river on one side and the lonely marshes on the other.
‘It’s a bit rough, I’m afraid,’ said Ben. ‘Does nothing for the MGB, I can tell you.’
‘Not sure my little car’s exhaust is up to it either,’ said Maddy, straightening up and smoothing her hair, which had more or less escaped the tight little bun it had been in all day. She fiddled for a moment or two and then, frustrated suddenly, she took out the clips and shook it loose instead.
‘That’s better,’ said Ben, glancing sideways.
‘I didn’t realise there were any houses down here,’ said Maddy. The confines of Havenbury Magna were sharply delineated by the wetlands at the foot of the hill it perched on. The marshes were unsuitable for building which kept them safe from development on the whole. Or so she had thought.
‘Is this it?’ she said, as they came across a little wooden one-storey building with a pitched roof on the river side of the track.
‘It’s a boathouse,’ he said. ‘At least it was. I’ve converted the inside now. It’s basic, but it’s home.’
She could make out little detail in the dark, but there were lights on and a car she assumed was Duncan’s was already there.
Ben squeezed Maddy’s car in next to it and got out, coming around her side to help her out.
‘I’m not ninety,’ she complained.
‘No, but I don’t want you to trip in those heels,’ he said patiently. ‘The ground’s a bit uneven.’
She was glad of his arm as they walked the short distance to the door. She shivered in the cold, damp air and that, coupled with her having been newly reunited with the anxiety that dogged her in Havenbury, made her unsteady on her feet.
There was a sweet little wooden porch canopy over the doorway, illuminated with a fisherman’s light, and Maddy noticed the roof was clad not with the red clay tiles most buildings had around there but with cedar shingles.
‘It looks like a little gingerbread cottage,’ she said, charmed.
‘It needs painting,’ said Ben. ‘Wooden buildings are a constant maintenance headache it turns out.’
The door opened onto one large room, which was open to the wooden rafters of the roof. Limed floorboards were partly covered with a large kelim rug and kitchen units ran along one wall. There was a series of tall, floor-length windows along the wall facing the river, each currently covered with thick grey, watermarked silk curtains that pooled on the floor. A small scrubbed table with four wooden chairs sat in one corner, and a low, comfortable-looking sofa, flanked with armchairs, was arranged to make the most of the daytime view. Tonight, though, lamps on low tables and a giant floorstanding anglepoise lamp created intimate pools of light. A door in the far wall led, presumably, to a bedroom and bathroom.
Duncan came forward and shook Maddy’s hand with a decorous formality at odds with his casual manner at their last meeting in the pub. ‘Hello, Maddy,’ he said. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine,’ she said, clamping her jaw shut to suppress her chattering teeth. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘Ben said you needed to see me tonight, urgently, so I’m more than happy … although I’m not sure …’ He gave her an appraising look. ‘Come on,’ he said, making a decision. ‘Let’s sit down and have a chat.’
He settled himself in the chair opposite her and rested his hands on his knees. This was clearly the professional Duncan, calm, in control, his gentle grey eyes watching her with intelligence but no judgement.
‘So, first of all, what makes you feel I need to try and help you tonight?’
‘I didn’t want to come back here,’ Maddy explained. ‘I just feel like I can’t go through another night. I can’t. Not if I have to be here.’
‘That’s okay,’ said Duncan. ‘I can go with that. We can talk, tonight, and then we can decide what we are going to do next. No pressure. Sound like a plan?’
So Maddy went through the whole thing again: the story of what happened that night including her memories and also her new knowledge; her departure from Havenbury, her new life in London and then her return to look after Patrick, triggering panic attacks that then escalated after she broke her leg again. And now, the impossibility of even being in Havenbury because of the constant, crippling fear and anxiety that was seemingly only reduced by being somewhere else.
Duncan listened, nodding and taking notes. Eventually Maddy came to the end.
‘Okay, listen,’ he said. ‘Like I mentioned before, Ben and I have been developing treatment strategies for soldiers with PTSD. We think we can help you with hypnosis.’
‘Okay,’ said Maddy, her heart beating a little faster.
‘That approach is nothing new or unusual. What Ben and I are looking at is the mutable quality of memories.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Maddy.
‘Our memories are actually quite open to change. Not fixed and absolute like we might have thought before. Studies have shown that people, under the right conditions, can be persuaded to remember all sorts of things that haven’t actually happened to them.’
‘So, do you think my nightmares are memories that haven’t actually happened to me?’ said Maddy, bristling.
‘No, no,’ Duncan said hastily. ‘I’m actually coming at it precisely the other way. I’m saying we are looking at how we can take a distressing memory and we can – under the right conditions – make it less distressing by, basically, attaching it to a new thought, a new “memory”, which can halt this endless loop of distressing remembering by, sort of, giving a happy ending to the story, if you like.’
‘Okay,’ said Maddy slowly. ‘I can see how that might work, but �
� in my case – I’m not sure I can actually remember enough of whatever it is that terrifies me to even create a happy ending.’
‘Actually,’ said Duncan, ‘I think you’re an excellent case. We now know that your drink was spiked, which certainly explains the nightmarish and disjointed quality of the fragments of memory you have of that night.’
‘Plus, of course,’ added Maddy, with wry humour, ‘I fell on my head.’
‘Yeah, that too,’ acknowledged Duncan, with a smile. ‘All this adds to the confusion. And – if we accept that you, somehow, ended up going out of your bedroom window …’ he looked at her for confirmation and she nodded, ‘then it’s pretty useful to know the door was bolted from the inside.’
‘In other words, that it was just my drug-induced dementedness that made me jump, fall, or whatever and not any real person pursuing me,’ said Maddy. She had played with these thoughts before but, somehow, going through it all with Duncan there, she was able to look at it all in a more clear and objective way, and a little of the tension she had held in her for years, and certainly for the last few months, ebbed quietly away.
‘Exactly,’ said Duncan, noticing. ‘That’s good.’
‘So, what now?’
‘Well,’ he said, looking at his watch, ‘perhaps not necessarily now, but – now we’ve discussed it …’
‘No!’ Maddy’s vehemence surprised both of them. Ben, in the kitchen, even glanced over at the sound.
‘I mean,’ she said, wiping her tears away with her fingers. ‘Please can we do it now?’
‘Okay,’ said Duncan. ‘How much do you know about hypnotism?’
‘Stage shows, mainly. Rod Stewart impressions with mop handles as mike stands? That sort of thing?’
‘Right.’ He smiled. ‘Well. It’s nothing like that.’
‘Okay.’
‘What it is,’ he explained, ‘is the kind of mind state our brains go into quite often and naturally, when we’re doing a repetitive task perhaps, or just daydreaming, letting our minds wander. It’s basically a state of profound relaxation and enhanced suggestibility. In it – guided by someone like me – you can examine stuff. To be honest, it’s easier to do than explain,’ Duncan broke off, holding his hands apart. ‘Shall we?’
She swallowed, nervously.
‘Can we … ?’ She paused. ‘I mean, I know, with Ben, because he’s a friend and stuff, it’s weird.’
‘It’s not weird. Because it’s not Ben. It’s me.’
‘And you’re not a friend?’
‘Nope,’ said Duncan. ‘Can’t stand you.’
‘But can I have Ben with me? When we – do this?’
‘Yeah, of course. I don’t have a problem with that. Mate,’ called Duncan. ‘You’re on. We’re doing it.’
Ben strolled over, taking a seat on the end of the sofa nearest Maddy, and giving her a reassuring smile.
Duncan turned to Maddy. ‘Now, the thing about a hypnotic trance is that if you don’t want to go into one you won’t and there’s nothing magic I can do to make it happen. Equally, if you want to stop at any time, you can. You’re in control, got it?’
‘Okay,’ said Maddy nervously.
‘Ready?’
She nodded, and Ben quietly leant back in his seat, watching her face closely, alert for any signs of distress.
‘So,’ said Duncan in a calm but normal voice, ‘all I want you to do is relax and listen to my voice …’
Maddy sat back and let her mind drift, allowing Duncan’s suggestions to gently wash over her. Quickly her consciousness narrowed. Her body felt heavy and formless and her eyelids began to droop.
‘Your eyelids are feeling heavy,’ came Duncan’s voice, ‘and soon, they start to feel so, so heavy, you might start to feel that you can’t keep your eyes open any longer, so you might just want to let them close … like that … Just letting your eyes close now … That’s good, Maddy, you’re doing really well …’
Duncan and Ben shot each other a look. As Ben had guessed, she was hugely suggestible. He could see from the pulse in her neck that her heart rate had slowed. She was unmoving in the chair, her face smooth and expressionless.
He nodded to Duncan. They were there.
‘So, Maddy,’ said Duncan conversationally, ‘I want you to take yourself back to the night you had your accident, but what I want you to do is stand to one side, okay? I want you to imagine you are in the corner of the room, just watching yourself doing the things that happened that night.’
The two men watched her carefully; she looked entirely relaxed. They waited, and then – almost imperceptibly – her head twitched to the side and a tiny frown formed on her brow.
‘Where are you, Maddy?’ asked Duncan.
‘In the bar.’
‘Who’s there with you?’
‘Kevin.’
‘Who else?’
‘Flora.’ Her mouth twitched in the tiniest semblance of a smile.
‘Who else?’
‘Patrick,’ said Maddy. ‘Fussing. Patrick’s always fussing. Dunno the rest …’
The men waited.
‘Drinking game,’ she said suddenly. ‘Stupid game … Keep losing.’
‘Tell me what you see.’
‘My turn again. Kevin’s fault. Keeps being my turn.’
‘What is Kevin doing.’
‘Filling up my glass.’ Maddy paused. ‘Filling my glass. Under the table.’
She frowned. Several seconds passed.
‘What’s happening now, Maddy?’ Duncan prompted.
‘Want to go home.’ Her voice was still low and slurred but now slightly tearful.
Ben looked at her sharply but Duncan held up a pacifying hand.
‘Who’s there now, Maddy?’
‘Flora,’ murmured Maddy, calmer. ‘In my room. Want to go to bed now. People outside my room. Shouting. Scared. Don’t want them in here.’
Then, Maddy seemed to fall asleep for a few moments. The men waited for a while.
‘Maddy,’ said Duncan at last. ‘What’s happening now?’
‘Sleeping,’ she murmured drowsily.
‘Are you still watching from the corner of the room?’
Maddy gave a tiny nod.
‘Good, Maddy, that’s good,’ said Duncan. ‘Are you alone?’
Another tiny nod.
They waited. Maddy’s body twitched. She gasped. Once, Twice.
‘What’s happening now, Maddy?’
‘What’s that?’ she said breathlessly. ‘Someone in my room.’
‘Okay, Maddy,’ said Duncan. ‘Stay in the corner of the room. Watch and tell me what you see?’
‘Waking up, getting up … someone there,’ she panted. ‘Looking around. Door bolted. Good. Checking room. Under bed …’ she was gasping continuously now.
‘Do you see anyone, Maddy?’ said Duncan urgently.
‘No,’ said Maddy. ‘No one but …’ she gave several short gasps of panic. ‘Got to get out …’
‘How are you going to get out, Maddy?’
‘Not the door,’ she said. ‘People in the corridor. Shouting. Don’t want them to see me.’
‘So how are you going to get out?’
‘Window.’
Ben winced.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Climbing up … Got to get out.’
As the men watched the drama unfolding, Maddy gave a huge gasp. And then went limp.
Duncan observed her intently, holding up a hand for Ben to stay back.
‘Maddy?’ he said.
Nothing. Her breathing was even, her body relaxed and her eyelids flickering barely perceptibly.
‘Maddy?’ he said again.
She screamed.
Both men jumped and Ben reached for her but Duncan held him back.
‘My leg,’ she wailed, anguished, eyes still closed.
Ben gave Duncan a look, but he shook his head. ‘It’s fine,’ he whispered. ‘Just a little longer.’
‘Madd
y, try and tell me what’s happening. Remember you’re just watching. Can you do that?’
At that, some of the tension went out of Maddy’s body, and she nodded.
‘My leg,’ she whispered. ‘It’s dark … I’m cold … really cold.’
‘Are you alone?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and then, ‘no … I don’t know.’
‘Someone’s there with you?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve got to hide,’ said Maddy. ‘I’ve got to get away …’
‘What are you doing?’
‘Crawling. My leg … Got to get away …’
There was a pause.
‘Someone’s there,’ she said at last. ‘Hiding in the dark …’
She was panting again now, her head moving from side to side. She said nothing more but her fear was evident.
Duncan looked at her thoughtfully. Then, he turned to Ben and nodded.
There was a pause, the silence of the room broken only by Maddy’s terrified gasps and sobs.
‘Maddy,’ said Ben quietly.
Her head turned to the sound of his voice and she froze, listening.
‘Maddy,’ he said again softly.
‘Ben?’
‘Yes, it’s me.’
‘Are you the one?’
‘The one?’
‘Are you the one who’s hiding in the dark?’ Maddy asked, her eyes closed, head turned towards him.
Ben glanced at Duncan.
‘I am,’ he said. ‘You’re safe.’
‘Safe,’ she repeated, drowsily now, the panic gone.
Her breathing slowed. Her face smoothed out once again, her head drooping to the side. Ben watched the pulse in her neck slow until it was thudding, steadily, in time with his own.
Duncan waited for a few moments more and then he spoke: ‘Maddy, I’m going to count to ten. As I count you are going to steadily become more alert and when I get to ten you are going to be fully awake and relaxed. Here we go …’
‘Wow, that was amazing,’ said Maddy, opening her eyes. ‘I don’t think I remembered anything I don’t already know, though.’
‘I didn’t think you would,’ said Duncan. ‘I suspect the point, with you, is that your memory is not so much blocked but confused because of the drugs you inadvertently took.’