Page 145 of Don't Tell Teacher

‘No, love. There’s a whole new lot to take now. Remember?’

‘You know, maybe I should see the doctor again. It’s about time I had another blood test. I can’t have you doing my visits forever.’

‘Olly.’ I put a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m a nurse, remember. I’m telling you, you don’t need a blood test. You’re just depressed, that’s all. Trust me. I’ve seen it a hundred times. You’ll just be wasting the doctor’s time. And you know how painful it is to move on your leg now. Let me sort out your meds.’

People take power in all sorts of ways. Being tough. Sexy. Rich.

Without power, we are nothing. Empty.

For years, I was a shadow. Impotent. Part of someone else. I had no control. No life of my own. No profession or identity.

But now I am powerful beyond measure.

A real nurse who cares for the sick.

Sometimes, that means making people sick.

Kate

9.03 a.m.

We’ve driven all night. The sun is bright and I don’t feel tired any more. Just anxious.

We’re nearing the ferry port.

Olly is beside me, gripping the steering wheel like a life buoy. Whenever I hear the word ‘distraught’ from now on, I will think of Olly’s face and know that most people misuse the word.

The petrol-gauge needle hovers over the big E for empty.

‘We need petrol,’ I say.

‘We’ll make it,’ says Olly.

‘But—’

‘The petrol doesn’t just run out when you hit empty,’ says Olly. ‘They make allowances for people who refuel at the last minute. You can get twenty miles out of the reserve. The ferry leaves in five minutes, Kate.’

‘Four minutes.’

Olly plants his foot more firmly on the accelerator and tailgates a big, swaying lorry that has planted itself in the fast lane.

‘Come on, come on!’ Olly beeps the horn and flashes his lights.

I grip my seat. ‘What if we run out of petrol?’

‘We won’t,’ says Olly, as we roar past the swaying tanker. ‘The port is three miles away. The fuel tank has only just hit empty. Believe it or not, I have a logical brain on my shoulders.’ He glances at me. ‘I know Lizzie painted a different picture. Highly competitive. Reckless. A womaniser. I read the court papers.’

I think back to the case notes about Olly. How Lizzie seamlessly conveyed Olly as a competitive alpha male, psychotic when provoked, without ever saying those words.

‘I’ve never even had a one-night stand,’ says Olly. ‘Elizabeth twisted everything, and I walked right into it. Ignored all the warning signs. I didn’t see what she was doing until it was too late. What a gullible idiot.’

‘She’s a manipulator, Olly,’ I say. ‘She’s probably been fooling people since childhood. Maybe she even believes it herself. Delusion is a big part of all this.’

I hear the faint sound of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, ‘Give It Away’.

Olly whips an iPhone from his back pocket. The van swerves on the road as he holds the phone against the steering wheel.

‘Mum!’ Olly shouts. ‘We’re nearly there.’

---