It’s so easy. I can go wherever I want. Mainly I go to imagined places because I’ve never been fucking anywhere and there’s no fucking way I’d choose to go home. Wherever I am, Adele’s always there though. I don’t even really imagine her there but she just appears. Maybe that’s cos I’m always thinking about her. Not in a want-to-fuck-her way, something way better than that. Something purer. We get high a lot in my dreams. It’s kind of what I like best. I can get off my face as much as I want with no comedowns and no fall-out.
Adele’s sleeping properly again. Everyone at Westlands fucking loves us now as if they had something to do with our recoveries – we’re like their wet dream patients. I’m happy about it though. That she’s sleeping. I know she’s not lying because I sneak to her room and look at her for a few minutes most nights. Man, I sound creepy reading that back. But she’s like Sleeping Beauty and I’m watching over her. It’s sort of peaceful and I don’t need to sleep so much now that I’m clean and what sleep I’m getting isn’t full of night terrors. Only at the beginning before I control them. Sometimes I choose to stay for a while for the thrill. Like going on a rollercoaster. I know they can’t harm me because I’m in charge.
Yeah, it’s good that she’s sleeping properly. She’s got a lot to catch up on after weeks of trying to stay awake and she needs to put all that shit behind her. It’s weird worrying about someone. I worry about Adele and I’ve never worried about anyone before. Not my shitty family, and barely myself. Everyone’s been grey before Adele. No one mattered. I never actually thought it was possible for someone to matter before. Is this what love is? Maybe I do love Adele in my own way.
Does she imagine me in her dreams, or is it always the legendary bore that is David? I worry most about David. I don’t know why she’s so caught up in him. I don’t think she can see what he’s really like. She TRUSTS him she says. Yeah right. I bet he loves that. She trusts him so much that she’s signed control over all her money and stuff to him. A fucking fortune and he’s in charge of it all. That’s what her solicitor was doing here. Finally she told me. I knew she would. She doesn’t like secrets. But what the actual fuck? So David’s off at unifuckingversity getting his endless degrees and living the high life while she’s in this mental home, and she’s given him control of all the estate and money and everything.
I can’t believe it. I nearly shouted at her but she looked so uncomfortable telling me that I couldn’t. And it’s done now. She said it was temporary because she didn’t want to think about it and they were getting married anyway, but who the hell gives all their money away to someone else? Even for a little while. I mean, why would she do that? There’s love and there’s stupidity. She doesn’t get people like I do. She’s been protected all her life. What she hasn’t figured out is that everyone’s out for themselves. I don’t even really blame David for taking the money – at least it’s something less DULL that he’s done, but I hate that she’s let him. Money fucks people over, and David’s one of those people who nearly had quite a bit of money from the farm – and then his dad pissed it all up the wall. Funny how now he’s got a lot of money anyway. Thanks to Adele.
I bet he won’t sign it back to her when we get out of here. I bet he’ll come up with excuses. David, the poor farmer’s boy who now has a fortune at his fingertips. It actually makes me want to laugh because it’s so crazy. I get so angry that it stops me getting back to sleep when I wake up at night. It’s got me thinking too – what really happened to Adele’s parents. I mean, how was he driving by in time to save her in the middle of the night? Was he driving by in time to start the fire too?
This has worked out pretty well for him from where I’m sitting. Our time here is nearly done, but if Adele thinks that I’m going to forget her and all this, that’s not going to happen. I’m going to look out for her. Because I don’t for one fucking second think that David is …
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. We’re in his office, separated by his desk. I’m trembling. I’ve been trembling since putting the notebook down this morning.
‘I know I’d been drinking, but I meant it when I said I’ll sort things out,’ he continues. He’s quiet. Thoughtful. Probably hungover. ‘I know my marriage is bad. I know it. And I shouldn’t be messing you around like this. What you said last night—’
‘I didn’t come in here to talk about last night.’ I’m cold with him, cutting him off. I feel like I’ve been dunked in freezing water. I’m burning to see Adele and find out if my suspicions are true. ‘I need the afternoon off. My boiler’s playing up and the plumber just rang and said he could come out between two and six. Sue says she’s got a light afternoon so she can check your clients in and work at my desk.’ He’s got four appointments booked and I’m glad about that. I won’t have to worry about him coming home and seeing us together.
I texted Adele as soon as he got to work this morning, knowing she’d be alone and safe. I didn’t say what it was really about, I didn’t want her to feel defensive or worried, so I sent: