Page 99 of The Perfect Son
“She told me about the trip. It wasn’t just a normal trip at all, was it?” he asks.
“I don’t know what you mean. But look, this is all a big misunderstanding. I know I told one of the nurses I saw Mark in the hospital, but I was on a lot of drugs and in so much pain. I know he’s dead. I’ve not had a breakdown or whatever you called it.”
“Tess.” Sadler places his empty cup back on the tray. “What I’m going to ask you to do now is going to be very hard, but I need you to try for me. OK?”
“OK.” I really don’t know what he thinks will be hard for me. I’ve already told him that I know you’re dead.
“There were two seats on Mark’s booking. You told me that yourself.”
I nod. “Someone else from the office.” I never did get round to asking Denise about that.
“I want you to look in the envelope again,” Sadler says.
I frown and smile at the same time. “I have Mark’s death certificate here.” I wave it in the air. “There’s nothing else in the envelope.”
“Yes, there is, Tess.”
I shake my head, but I peel open the envelope once more, turning it upside down and shaking it. A single piece of paper falls to the floor and skids across to Sadler’s feet. It’s the same color as Mark’s death certificate, and when Sadler reaches for it I catch the sight of the crown at the top.
I snap my eyes shut and scrunch them tight like a child.If you can’t see me, I can’t see you.I hear Jamie’s laughter in my head and it sounds so real that my breath catches in my throat.
“Please look at this, Tess,” Sadler says.
When I open my eyes, he is holding the piece of paper out for me to take.
I’m cold. So cold, Mark. And even though I don’t want to touch the paper or read the words written on it, I reach out and take it in my hands.
“Mark didn’t go alone on his trip this time, did he, Tess? It was a special trip. Look at it,” he urges.
My teeth are clenched together so hard that my head is throbbing from the pain but I look. I stare at the paper, the replica of Mark’s. The same crown at the top, the same writing:Certified Copy of an Entry of Death.
“It’s a second copy.” I shrug. “A spare.”
“No, Tess. Read the name.”
I shake my head and slam the paper to my lap, turning it over so I can’t see it anymore.
“Who was on the plane with Mark?” Sadler asks. “Why did they go on the trip?”
“I don’t know,” I cry out. A sob shudders through my body. “I want to take a break. Let me see Jamie, then we can continue.”
“We’ll take a break in a little bit. Right now I want you to tell me who was on the plane with Mark.”
Sadler stands up and shuffles around the table. He takes the certificate from my lap and turns it over. “Whose name is written there?” he asks, pointing at the paper.
I gasp as I read the name again. “Jamie,” I whisper.Jamie Edward Clarke. Born April 8, 2010.
“Mark’s company were hosting a special event in Germany for their employees and their families,” Sadler explains, his voice calm and loud at the same time. “Jamie was on the plane with Mark. Jamie died too.”
I shake my head from side to side. “No. You’re wrong. This is a fake. This is what Shelley wants you to think so she can take Jamie away from me.”
“That’s not true, Tess. Your belief that Shelley wants to take Jamie away is a paranoid delusion. It’s a belief that your mind is telling you is real, but is created by your illness. From our talks and looking at your notebook, I also believe the voice you heard on the phone is a hallucination of persecution triggered by Richard Welkin’s repeated attempts to contact you and your desire to uncover the truth of Mark’s secret project.
“With Shelley, you believe someone is threatening your existence with Jamie, and you’re seeing evidence to support this that isn’t there, just the same as how you’re seeing Jamie. It’s an illness, Tess.”
“Jamie is alive.” I whisper the words aloud, an affirmation for myself as much as for Sadler.
I struggle to my feet, ignoring the pain clenching my stomach and the dizziness pressing down on my head. “JAMIE,” I shout. “JAMIE.”
