Page 30 of The Therapist
‘Okay, but you need to know that she disappeared because she wanted to. She must have wanted to. I’m sure she’ll be…back.’
It doesn’t seem like he is that worried about her, or that he wants her back. Maybe that’s because he knows exactly where she is.
He says he loved her, what does that mean? Is he no longer in love with her or is she gone?
I turn around and struggle to open his front door. As I pull it open, I look down and a flash of red on the white wall catches my eye. I hold my breath, feel him behind me as I take a giant step out of the house and onto the front path, feeling myself sway and twist as I struggle to find my footing on the wet ground.
I take a deep breath of cold air. Under the now shining streetlights the quickly melting hailstones cover the grass in a crystal sheen. ‘Lana,’ he says but I don’t stop to listen. Was that blood? It could have been blood.
Oh God, it could have been blood and that means everything he has said to me is a lie, a complete lie.
Without stopping, I dash across the road to my car, my keys in my hand. Once I am inside, the doors locked and my heart thudding in my ears, I glance over at the house. He is standing with the front door open, staring at me. His legs are wide apart and his arms folded over his chest. Does he know I saw it?
I pull off slowly, biting down on my lip. I try to calm myself down as I drive to get Iggy, taking deep breaths and repeating,Nothing happened, nothing happened. Nothing happened to you, not to you.
I want to go straight to the police but I have no idea what to say, how exactly to explain it, and I need to get my son. I need to be his mother now.
It takes me the whole drive to Jack’s house to calm down, but once I am there, I am able to plaster a smile on my face for Marion, Jack’s mother, and thank her for having my son for the afternoon.
‘I was nice to Abigail today,’ Iggy tells me after he’s buckled himself into his seat. ‘I didn’t say anything mean.’
‘I’m sure you didn’t, sweetheart,’ I answer him. He tells me every day that he has been nice, that he has been good, and I wonder how long it will go on for. I did some damage with my reaction to his bullying incident and I am worried about that. Oris it a good thing, that he’s learned from the experience? I just don’t know. Suddenly, I am questioning myself over everything. I can’t trust myself and I hate feeling like that.
Right now, I’m more worried about Sandy and where she is, what has happened to her. I cannot help but go over my sessions with her. How would I have behaved if I did not have my own insecurities tapping me on the shoulder as I looked at her? I think I’ve messed this up, really messed this up, and now a woman may be hurt or…dead.
‘Aren’t we going to drive, Mum?’ says Iggy and I realise I haven’t even started my car.
‘Sorry, love, of course we are. Tell me more about your day. What was your favourite class today?’ I start the car and pull out into the street, where the heavy rain is taking a break right now.
‘It was art because Mr Tate said that we could draw anything we liked and I drew a Transformer and he said it was good. And Jack’s mum made chocolate chip pancakes as a snack – can you believe that, Mum, a snack? – and she said that I can come over whenever I want because I’m polite and said “please” and “thank you” just like you and Dad said I should. Do you like chocolate chip pancakes? I do. I wonder if Becky and Dad like them. Can I have them for breakfast on Saturday?’
‘I’m sure you can,’ I say as I pull into my driveway, where I am glad I have an internal entrance from the garage to the house as the rain ramps up again.
‘Dinner will be ready soon,’ I tell Iggy once we are in the kitchen and he has dropped his school bag on the floor. ‘Do you have homework?’
‘Mr Tate said that we have to do two pages of our reading books but me and Jack both read to his mum so it’s all done.’
‘That’s good,’ I say, thankful to Marion for taking care of homework even though I usually enjoy the time with Iggy.
‘Can I play on my Switch?’
‘Only until I call you for dinner, okay?’
‘Okay, Mum.’ He smiles and dashes out of the kitchen
I am relieved to have a moment of silence as I pull a bottle of red wine out of the cupboard and pour myself a glass before putting on a pot of water to boil for pasta. At least I thought to make Bolognese sauce yesterday so that we could eat it during the week.
While I wait, I sit on a stool at my small kitchen counter as I sip the heavy red wine. Is Mike telling the truth? I know that women are not the only people who experience domestic violence. It’s much rarer for a man to be the one being hurt but not something that has never happened. But he is so much bigger than she is. One of them is lying and everyone’s first instinct would be to believe her.
But you’ve been questioning her all along.
I open my phone, calling Ben.
‘Hey, Lana.’ I’m so pleased he answered, I feel my eyes grow hot with tears. It’s been a long time since I was so scared, so panicked in a situation that could easily have gotten out of control.
‘I went to Sandy’s house.’
‘What? You should not have done that without someone with you. I thought you were going to wait or call the police. Her husband is dangerous, Lana, you know that.’ Ben has obviously made his decision on who is telling the truth. ‘What if he gets angry with her because you turned up at the house?—’
