Her face crinkles. ‘What do you mean? I was just telling you I need to get the key from my partner to set myself free. We were talking about me being a prisoner in my own life.’ She leans forward. ‘Are you okay, Mia?’
Panic floods through me. Perhaps I’m losing my mind. Post-traumatic stress disorder or something. It’s only to be expected after what happened. It’s a miracle I’ve held it together this long. But I heard her. I couldn’t have imagined it. ‘You just mentioned my husband, Alison.’
She frowns and shakes her head. ‘No, I didn’t. You must be mistaken. I was talking about my partner. I don’t know your husband.’
I stare at her, shock rendering me speechless. But I know what I heard. ‘What’s your partner’s name?’
‘Aaron. I told you that. Didn’t you write it down?’
But I don’t take notes during my sessions, in case it intimidates people that I’m writing things they cannot see. I note down all the important details afterwards, once I’m alone. ‘No, I didn’t. But I know you said his name was Dominic. That’s not a name I’d forget.’
She shakes her head again, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘Oh, that’s weird. But I didn’t say that. You’re freaking me out now. What sort of counsellor are you? You haven’t even been listening to me and now you’re making things up.’
I’m about to try and reason with her but before I can work out how to do that, Alison is standing up and storming out of my office, slamming the front door behind her, a trail of her flowery scent following her out.
From the window I watch her cross the road and head past the park, her black figure a sharp contrast to the blinding sunshine. I’m tempted to run after her, but what would I say? What if she’s right and I didn’t hear what I thought I had? But how is that possible? It’s been five years since Zach died, why would my mind start reliving it so intensely now?
The shortness of breath comes quickly, along with the feeling that I’m about to suffocate. I rush to my chair to sit down, but it does little to stop me shaking.
I glance at the clock on the wall and it’s only two twenty, which means she was only in here for twenty minutes. Opening my desk drawer, I pull out her folder and scan the contact sheet. I always get a phone number and address for my clients, but even as I key in the digits of her mobile number I know there will be no ringtone.
I’m right, and I disconnect the call, more confused than ever.
Desperate for fresh air, I run through the house to the back garden, falling to a heap on the decking.
* * *
‘Mummy? Mummy, are you okay?’ Freya’s small hand is shaking me, and slowly I open my eyes. Her large brown eyes stare down at me and beside her Will kneels and helps pull me up.
‘What happened? Are you okay?’ His voice is steady; he is holding it together, despite how shocking it must be to come back and find me sprawled out here like this.
‘I’m… I think so. I must have collapsed or fainted. I don’t remember.’
But I do. I remember everything. Alison Cummings. The statement she made about Zach not committing suicide and then, two seconds later, her claim to have said no such thing. I feel dizzy, sick to my stomach.
‘Can you get Mummy some water please, Freya?’ Will helps me to one of the garden chairs and I sink into the cushion.
‘What time is it?’ I ask, patting my pockets for my mobile. But I feel nothing in there other than some tissues, so I must have left it in my office.
‘Almost four. We didn’t go to the cinema in the end. Freya changed her mind about the film so we went to Creams instead. I hope that’s okay? I know you try not to give her too much sugar.’
I nod and thank him. Right now it doesn’t matter if Freya had some ice cream; that’s the least of my worries.
Will scans the garden. ‘What were you doing out here?’ he asks. ‘Did you see your client at two?’
‘Yes, I saw her,’ I say, and he frowns, as if he doesn’t believe my story, as if something doesn’t quite make sense. But how can I tell him the rest without sounding delusional? Without sounding like I’m the one in need of help?
‘And did it go okay?’ Will asks. ‘What happened after that? Can you really not remember?’ He sighs. ‘I’m worried about you, Mia, and I think we need to get you to a doctor. Or at least call 111 and see what they think?’
He asks so many questions that I don’t know which one he expects me to answer first. Will means well, but there is no way I’m going to the hospital. ‘No,’ I say, ‘I’m not sitting around in A&E for hours just to be told I had heatstroke or something. Maybe I didn’t drink enough today. That must be it. Honestly, I’m fine now.’
Physically, maybe, but what about my mind? I keep this thought to myself.
But Will won’t let this go easily; he’s not the type to accept something without questioning everything he’s told, instead preferring to investigate and analyse for himself. ‘Do you think that’s what it is then? You were out in the sun too long? Got dehydrated?’
I grab his hand, in part to prove to him how hot and sticky my own is. ‘Yes, I’m sure it’s that. It’s sweltering today.’
Will’s mouth twists – he’s not convinced – but he finally gives me the benefit of the doubt. At least for now. ‘Okay, Mia, but if you won’t get checked out then I’m not leaving you alone tonight. I should be here in case it happens again.’ He puts his hands up. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sleep in the spare room again. I know you don’t want Freya to see us sharing the same bed.’
What he’s saying makes sense; I have my daughter to think about and I can’t risk fainting again. I’m sure it’s just the shock of what I heard – or thought I heard – Alison Cummings say, but I won’t take any chances.
‘Thanks,’ I tell Will. ‘That would be good.’
His face doesn’t light up as I’ve expected, and the shadow of his frown remains there. ‘I’ll have to pop home quickly and get some things. I’ve got a presentation tomorrow and need my laptop.’
Freya appears, carefully holding a glass in both hands. She’s overfilled it and water spills over the edges, sloshing onto her sandals and the decking. I rush to take it from her before it ends up all over her. ‘Thank you, sweetheart.’
‘Are you okay now, Mummy? I was really scared.’
Putting my glass on the garden table, I grab her and hold her tightly. ‘I’m fine, nothing to worry about. I think the sun just made me a bit dizzy, that’s all.’
She squints, and I know she’s deciding whether or not to believe me. Even though she doesn’t remember Zach, she knows he was taken from us and it gives her a lot of anxiety. It breaks my heart and I often have to reassure her that I’m not going anywhere.
But how can I be so sure? I didn’t think Zach would be dead so young. None of us know what’s around the corner.
Alison Cummings. Who the hell is she?
‘Okay, Mummy.’ Freya’s little arms tighten around me and I wipe a smudge of vanilla ice cream from her hair.
‘Hey, guess what? Will’s going to stay the night, won’t that be exciting?’
She jumps out of my arms and screams, ‘Yay! Can we watch a film because we never got to see one today?’
I glance at Will but he’s already nodding. He tells her of course they can and she skips off to the bottom of the garden, clambering onto her trampoline.
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘For everything.’
Will kisses my forehead. ‘No problem. I’ll make a move now so I can get back in time to watch a film.’