‘Of course she will. Didn’t you say yourself this will do her good?’ said Patience briskly, although she wasn’t feeling as confident as she sounded. This breakdown, if that’s what it was and she rather thought so, wasn’t just a result of the last few months, although no doubt they’d brought it to a head. She had been horrified when Sadie had confided what Sophy’s husband had put her through since their marriage, and of course Sadie wouldn’t know all of it. And this last act of his, the utter callousness of selling his wife to be made sport of by a group of young men – well, how did a woman recover from something like that? But for the cab driver Sophy had befriended, the unthinkable would have happened.
Once Sadie and Tilly had left the room, Patience climbed into bed, saying softly, ‘I’m here, Sophy. You’re not alone. Try and sleep now, there’s a dear,’ as she extinguished the light.
She wasn’t sure if Sophy was already asleep; she had given her an extra pill, knowing it was safe and would only send her cousin into a deeper sleep which was all to the good in the present circumstances.
But after a moment, a small voice came in the darkness. ‘I can’t go on, Patience. This is the end. I thought marrying Toby, him loving me, was a new beginning, but it was all a lie from the start.’
‘Listen to me.’ Patience propped herself up on one elbow as she faced the mound under the coverlet. ‘This is only the end of one beginning, that’s how you have to think of it. You’ve made a wonderful life for yourself as a successful actress, you have a lovely home and lots of friends who care about you, not to mention myself and William – and Sadie, of course. What Toby did was unforgivable, but he’s paid for it. As William would say, if you live by the sword you are likely to die by it.’
There was another pause before Sophy mumbled tiredly, ‘It’s not just Toby.’
‘I know, my dear. I know.’
‘How can you know?’ It was a whisper. ‘You had a mother and father who loved you, brothers, a family. And then William came along too. I – I’ve never had anyone who really loves me for who I am.’
‘I love you, Sophy. Not just as a cousin but as a sister, a dear sister. Please believe that. And you have so many friends—’
‘I don’t mean that sort of love.’
‘Sophy, you’re still young. You’ll meet someone else.’
‘That’s just it. I don’t want to.’ Through the exhaustion, a fierceness emerged. ‘I won’t ever put myself in that position again, Patience. I mean it. If you knew what the last years have been like, you’d understand why.’
‘But all men aren’t like Toby.’
‘And how do you know what a person is like until you are married? You can’t know, not really. No one can know. There are things you have to take on trust and I can’t do that again. I won’t do it.’
‘The way you are feeling now will pass, I promise you. I have nursed people who felt the same for various reasons, and as their bodies and minds healed, so did their emotions. You have been through a terrible ordeal, two terrible ordeals, and those against a background of years of unhappiness. At the moment your mind is saying it can’t cope, and no wonder, but as you recover you’ll feel differently, my dear.’
Sophy let Patience talk on. She knew Patience meant well, perhaps her cousin thought she was losing her mind – she’d thought the same thing herself – but deep in her heart of hearts she knew the desolation she was feeling would prevail until the day she died. That’s why she had fought against feeling anything at all the last weeks. But unexpectedly, in a way she didn’t understand, Patience’s unborn child had opened Pandora’s Box and there was no going back to the state of numbness she’d been existing in.
What she couldn’t explain to Patience, to anyone, was the feeling that she should have prevented some of what had happened. She should have made Cat ride with her that day; should have made Toby seek help for his addictions. The pills were dulling her mind, shutting out Patience’s soft voice and relaxing her limbs so that she felt she was sinking right through the bed.
But Toby had never loved her, that was the thing. He had told her that many times over the last few years. If he had loved her, perhaps he would have listened to her. Why hadn’t he loved her? she asked herself muzzily. What was it about her that had made her unlovable to her husband, to her aunt and uncle? It had to be something in her, her fault . . .
Her last thought before sleep overtook her was the prayer she’d prayed every night since the evening she’d returned home and found Forester-Smythe and his cronies waiting for her: don’t let me wake up, God. Take me while I sleep.
Patience stayed on in London for six weeks. When Sophy looked back over that time in years to come, she knew she could never repay her cousin for her kindness. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Patience saved her reason. For the first week, Patience didn’t leave her side for a moment, encouraging her to talk out all her hurt and despair, letting her cry when she wanted to, insisting she ate and drank all the tasty meals and soups Sadie and Tilly provided, and making her take the sleeping pills each night.
‘You need to rest your mind, dear,’ she said, when Sophy protested after the third night. Sadie had told Patience about the pacing. ‘In a week or two you won’t need them, but just at the moment you do – and you will take them.’