Page 42 of The Therapist
‘You’re scaring me,’ I tell him, again forcing myself to sound controlled. I want to shriek the words, to turn and run into my office, locking the door behind me, and I consider how quicklyI could do that. Not fast enough. Honesty might work here. He seems like he wants to be scaring me, but does he? Sometimes when the reality of our behaviour is pointed out to us, we are forced to stop and address it.
Mike unclenches his fists and lowers his shoulders. ‘I just want to talk to you. I know you talked to the police but I need you to understand that I didn’t hurt my wife. I’ve done nothing to her. She’ll turn up, I’m sure she will. I need you to tell the police that and you need to tell me what you’ve said to them because you have no real idea what’s going on here.’
I take a small, hopefully imperceptible step backwards towards my office. I think about the handgun that I have there from Ben. I think about how quickly I could get to it, but do I need it? Surely, I can speak to this man and figure out a way to get him to leave. Although right now, I’m not sure about any of my skills.
‘I’m worried about your wife and I’m obligated to report that to the police if I fear she may be in danger or if I think something may have happened to her.’ I keep my voice steady, even, making sure not to betray my fear. I wish Ben was here; I wish Kirsty would return. How long will she be?
‘I assume you haven’t heard from her?’ I ask.
‘No, of course not.’ He shakes his head, looks around the office. Is he trying to figure out if anyone else is here? My phone is on my desk, only a few steps away, but it feels like I have to cross a vast space to get there. I take another tiny step back.
‘Then perhaps it’s a good thing that I’ve reported it to the police. Something may have happened to her and I’m sure you want her to come home safe.’ I watch his face as I speak, seeing if his expression changes but it doesn’t. It’s strange that he hasn’t considered the possibility that something bad may have happened to her, that he is not frantically calling hospitals and everyone else he knows. That makes me think that he isaware of where she is and of exactly what has happened to her. Somewhere along the corridor, another office door opens. There are lawyers on this floor as well, only a few offices away, and a dentist. If I scream, would they hear me?
‘You don’t believe that she’s the violent one at all.’ He’s not asking a question but making a statement. There is no aggression in the words, more like defeat.
‘Mike…’ I take a deep breath, calculating how long I need, but as I do, Mike takes a small step towards me. It’s only small and perhaps he is hoping I won’t notice but all my senses are on alert. What is his agenda here?
‘If anything happens to me, the police will come to you first,’ I say, my voice betraying me with a small wobble. I think about the fact that this man has a record, that somewhere on a police computer, it has been recorded that he did something violent. And now he’s here.
‘Nothing is going to happen to you, Lana. What kind of a person do you think I am?’ Another expression crosses his face. Is that anguish or desperation? Desperate people do desperate things. If he did hurt his wife, why is he here? If he hurts me, the police will look to him first because I reported Sandy missing so he must know that this is a fool’s errand and yet he’s here, needing to know what I said to them and trying, once again, to convince me he didn’t hurt her, that in fact she hurts him. I try to slow my mind down, to calm myself so that I can reply to him in a way that will defuse this situation.
‘That’s just it. I don’t know. It may be that even you don’t know what kind of a person you are. You need help, Mike. I’m willing to…find some names for you but the first step to getting help is acknowledging that there’s a problem.’
‘My only problem is that you don’t believe me,’ he says, shaking his head.
‘You’re making it very hard for me to do that. Coming here was a bad idea as was using a fake name.’ I take another tiny step backwards but Mike moves as well and my heart pounds in my ears, my stomach twisting.
‘I didn’t hurt her and if you were open to really listening to what goes on in our house, like I told you, you would know that.’
‘Then where is she?’ I ask him and he shrugs his shoulders. Who do I judge to be the person I should trust, who is telling the truth? A woman’s life is at stake.
‘I…don’t know. Maybe she left to start again. She doesn’t love being a wife and a mother. She just doesn’t. If she’s told you that her kids are the most important thing to her, she’s lied. If she’s told you she loves me and wants to make our marriage work, she’s lied. I know what you think – you look at her and she’s so pretty and seems so nice that you can’t believe she would lie about anything. But she does lie.’
I can’t help glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s two fifteen already. My limbs feel stiff because I’ve been standing with my muscles tensed for so long. Where the hell is Kirsty?
‘Can we just go into your office and talk?’ he asks.
‘I don’t… No,’ I say firmly. ‘We’re not going to do that.’ Letting him into the space where there is a door he can lock will be a bad idea. Although the gun is in my desk drawer and I would be closer to it. Could I get it out and use it to scare him? I’m not even entirely sure how to hold a gun and would only be able to imitate what I’ve seen on television.
‘You can’t say that! You don’t get to just dismiss me!’ he yells, his voice rising sharply as he steps towards me, and I put my hand up to stop him from coming near me but it doesn’t stop him and he is suddenly right next to me, so close I can smell the fresh ocean scent of his cologne. He grabs my wrist and I can feel the dangerous strength in his hands; his blue eyes darken andhis cheeks glow red. Intense anger is emanating off him and hot tears fill my eyes.
Iggy, Iggy, Iggy.
Mike looks down at his hand gripping my wrist and I can see the horror of what he’s done, what he’s doing, slowly dawning on him. We stand in a moment of silence with only the warm air from the air conditioner making a slight whooshing sound.
The door to enter our offices opens and cold air from the corridor fills the warm space.
‘That took forever,’ says Kirsty as she walks towards the reception counter and then she seems to register what she’s seeing.
‘Hey,’ she says, her voice a terrified squeak, and Mike drops my arm, steps back and shakes his head.
‘I’m sorry, sorry, sorry,’ he repeats and then he looks at Kirsty and then back at me, distress on his face. He pushes his hands through his blond hair and then pulls, muttering, ‘Idiot, idiot, idiot,’ and then he turns and is out the door before I’ve even had a chance to breathe out.
Kirsty puts her coffee down on the desk and comes over to me, laying a hand on my shoulder. ‘Oh my God, are you okay, are you okay?’
‘That was Mike,’ I say, holding my hand over my heart as though I can somehow slow it down. ‘He said he was Don but it was Sandy’s husband. Sandy who’s missing. I have to call the police.’
‘Okay, oh God. Okay, what do you want me to do?’
