by Sue Fortin
‘Well, as you can see, I am,’ replied Ellen, feeling more composed.
‘Are you? How shall I put this?’ Toby looked at Donovan apologetically and then back to Ellen. ‘Are you remembering to take your medication?’
‘Medication! What are you talking about?’
Donovan squeezed her hand. ‘It’s okay,’ he said.
She snatched her hand away. ‘No, it’s not okay. I have no idea what Toby is trying to imply.’
‘See, this is what I was worried about,’ said Toby to Donovan. ‘I said she was prone to outbursts and can be delusional at times. The doctor said it’s like a denial thing.’
‘That’s not true! You’re making this up. Donovan, he’s a liar. I don’t take medication for anything.’ She was aware of the panic in her voice. He had to believe her. ‘The eyes, Donovan, it’s in the eyes.’ Dear Lord, she sounded like some mad woman. Donovan was looking at her, studying her. ‘It’s not true. I promise. It’s not true.’ She was willing him to believe her. Was that a small nod of acknowledgement? She couldn’t tell.
‘Helen,’ Toby was addressing her again. Determined to make his point. Some things never changed. ‘Helen, remember what your therapist told you. You know, your coping strategies to stay calm. The breathing exercises, you remember, don’t you?’
‘Stop it!’ She could feel the tears gathering in her eyes. Her hands were shaking. She wanted him to stop but she knew he wouldn’t. It was just like before. He’d send her into a fit of such anxiety, he would then have to take control. Use his methods to calm her down. Oh God, the ‘methods.’ Not here, he couldn’t do anything to her here. ‘Make him go, please Donovan, make him go.’ Her voice was reaching that high-pitched nervous level, loud enough to be heard over Toby’s drone of lying concern.
‘Perhaps you should go back to the doctor, Helen,’ he was saying. ‘I don’t think you’ve been taking your medication properly.’
‘That’s enough.’ Donovan stood up. ‘I think you should go. You’re upsetting Ellen.’
‘Helen. It’s Helen,’ said Toby, his eyes fixing firmly on her.
‘Here she’s Ellen and you’re upsetting her.’ Donovan gestured towards the door with his hand. ‘I’ll show you out.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Toby. He went to move towards Ellen, but Donovan was blocking his path. ‘Right, okay. Have it your way. I was only concerned about her mental state. I thought you should know the full picture about her.’
‘Thank you.’ Donovan’s reply was professional, as usual, his thoughts loyally retained behind a poker face.
‘Bye, Helen,’ said Toby, ‘and please, go and see your doctor.’
‘That’s enough,’ said Donovan. ‘This way, thank you.’ His outstretched hand leaving Toby in no doubt of the exit route. Toby obliged.
Donovan showed Toby to the front door but before opening it he paused and turned to his unexpected visitor. ‘Thanks for coming by,’ he said. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘No problem,’ said Toby. ‘I’ve been worried about her. She’s not had one of these, how shall we say? Episodes, for a while.’
‘These episodes, how frequent have they been in the past?’ asked Donovan, his voice low. ‘Do they always manifest themselves in the same way? Has she actually been diagnosed with a delusional disorder?’
Donovan observed Toby as he considered the questions.
‘It’s when she’s under pressure, she escapes into a world of her own.’ He glanced back over his shoulder. ‘Can we step outside a moment?’
The winter air cut into Donovan as he stood on the driveway with Toby. The dull grey dusk of the evening was already trying to make its presence known. He waited for Toby to speak.
‘Helen, or Ellen as she seems to have begun calling herself, last time it was Eleanor. I think she goes for names that are similar to her own so she doesn’t get caught out so easily. Anyway, Helen, she’s a bit of an attention-seeker and basically when things get a bit tough she blows them out of all proportion. That’s when the stories get more and more elaborate. The more attention she gets, the more it feeds her desire for even more attention.’
‘Did something trigger this latest episode off?’ probed Donovan, an uneasy feeling weaving itself through him.
‘You probably won’t want to hear this.’ Toby paused, looking away and then back to Donovan again. ‘She was working for a family and basically couldn’t cope with the two young children. She would come home very stressed out. She confessed to me that she had smacked one of them in a fit of frustration. Of course, the parents didn’t know and the child was too young to tell.’
Donovan winced inwardly but did not let his professional mask slip, merely nodding in acknowledgement.
‘She panicked and did a runner. Thought she was going to get into trouble. Next thing I knew she was making up all sorts of stories about why she had to leave.’ Toby pulled the collar up on his jacket and shivered. ‘Look, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I really just wanted to make sure Helen was okay and now I’ve told you everything, I feel I can leave with a clear conscience.’ He held out his hand to Donovan. ‘What you do now is up to you.’
Donovan accepted the gesture. ‘Thanks for coming by,’ he said. ‘It’s certainly explains a lot of things.’
Donovan turned the recent events and implications over in his mind as he watched Toby walk away down the road.
Going back indoors, Ellen met him in the hallway. Anxiety emitting from every part of her being. She said nothing as she laced and unlaced her fingers.
They faced each over across the tiled hallway.
‘I need some time to think everything over,’ said Donovan, purposefully keeping any emotion out of his voice. He needed to distance himself from his feelings for Ellen. If he could approach this in the same way he approached his private clients or his police work, then he was sure he’d see things for what they were. See people for who they were. Who they really were. He looked away as he walked down the hall. He couldn’t bear to see the hurt on her face. ‘I’ll be in my office.’
‘I’ll go and get Izzy,’ she said.
Donovan stopped abruptly. He turned and this time did look at her. ‘I’ll collect Izzy today. You have the rest of the day off.’ She looked drained and on edge. Not in the right state to be driving, he told himself. He ignored the voice at the back of his mind that said not in the right state to be looking after a child either. He scooped his car keys up from the hall table and his jacket from the coat stand. ‘Get some rest.’
‘The eyes, Donovan.’ It was almost a whisper. ‘The eyes don’t lie.’
He closed the door behind him. The eyes most definitely didn’t lie.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ellen stared at the closed front door that Donovan had exited. She had absolutely no idea whether he believed her or not. Toby turning up, acting concerned; was she the only one who could see through him? The thought made her shiver, as if her blood had turned to ice, freezing her insides.
She thought of her wash bag and the bottle of pills. An automatic response to a tense situation. Did she really need one? Wouldn’t she just be supporting Toby’s accusation? She considered her emotions and physical reaction to the latest incident. She wasn’t as strung-out as she thought she might once have been. This was good. Ellen Newman was strong. She believed in herself and her ability to stay calm without the need of artificial help. All she had to hope now was that Donovan believed in her too.
Carla, coming out of the office into the hallway, made Ellen jump. She appeared equally surprised to see Ellen and stopped in her tracks.
Carla frowned as she looked at her watch. ‘Shouldn’t you be picking up Izzy?’
‘No, Donovan is doing it.’
‘Donovan? Why has he gone? He never said he was collecting Izzy today.’
‘I’m not feeling well. He offered.’ Okay, that was a slight bend of the truth but Ellen wasn’t going to tell Carla anything.
‘Right, well, I’ve got t
o go out for a few minutes,’ said Carla, adjusting the belt on her navy woollen coat. ‘Do you think you could listen out for the telephone and take any messages? Or are you too ill?’
Ellen rose to the challenge in Carla’s voice. ‘No, I can do that. So long as it is only a few minutes.’
‘Ten minutes maximum. I’ve just had a call from Amanda to say she’s coming over.’ Carla pulled on her gloves. ‘I know we’ve run out of the decaf coffee she insists on. I was going to ask Mrs Holloway to nip and get some, but then I remembered her saying she had an appointment about her feet.’
‘That’s right. Would you like me to get the coffee for you?’
‘I thought you were unwell.’
‘Yes, but maybe some fresh air would do me good.’
‘No, I’ll go. You stay here.’ She hesitated. ‘Thank you anyway.’
A terse thank you, but a thank you all the same. Ellen would take that. ‘Okay, it’s up to you. See you in ten minutes.’
He stood under the oak tree in Coronation Park, where the path turned to the right and out of sight from the road. His collar pulled up, he hunkered down inside his jacket, his hands in his pockets. He felt his mobile in his hand. She had returned his text message, saying she was coming but that she didn’t have long. That worked fine with him. He didn’t have long either. He couldn’t afford to be spotted hanging around. He needed to see her to check a few details. Things needed attending to and he couldn’t do it without certain information.
He scuffed his feet impatiently, mulching up the dead leaves in the process. His feet were beginning to feel the cold now. She’d better not take ages.
A figure hurrying up the path caught his eye. It was hard to make out in the diminishing light but the blueness of her coat stood out against the greyness of the road and houses behind her.
‘About bloody time,’ he said as she came to a halt in front of him.
‘It’s not that easy, coming at the drop of a hat. I am very busy you know.’ Her snarky response irritated him. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed her, he’d fuck her right off this very minute. Snotty bitch, who had nothing to be snotty about. She would come unstuck one day. He momentarily flirted with the idea of what that unstuck would involve before dismissing it. He’d save the thought for later. Now he needed to find a few things out and he needed her to be co-operative and on his side for the purpose.
Ellen sat herself down at Carla’s desk and surveyed the organised and tidy area in front of her. Like Carla, nothing appeared out of place. Three blue pens, all identical, were laid out in a line alongside some sticky notes and to the side of that a writing pad. The notes in the pad were all very neat, definitely not the sort of scribble Ellen would expect to see from a busy secretary.
She picked up the central pen and turned it around to face in the opposite direction, idly wondering how annoying Carla would find that. Chiding herself for being immature, Ellen turned the pen back. The shrill of the landline ring cutting through the silence made her jump. Oh God, she’d have to answer it.
‘Hello?’ That seemed totally insufficient. She realised she had no idea how Carla greeted clients calling on the office line. ‘Er … Donovan’s not here right now, can I take a message?’
She hoped that was sufficient.
‘That’s not Carla, is it? Who am I speaking to, please?’
Ellen recognised that voice immediately. ‘Hello, Amanda. It’s Ellen. I’m afraid Carla’s had to pop out.’
‘Oh, it’s you.’ The tone was derisory. ‘If there’s no one else there, then you will have to do, I suppose.’ She didn’t wait for Ellen to respond and continued in her customary off-hand manner. ‘Let Carla know I’ve had a change of plan and I’m not calling in now after all. Something has come up that I need to deal with. Don’t mention it to Isobel, will you? I don’t want her disappointed. She wasn’t expecting me so there’s no need to tell her. Got that?’
Ellen was fully aware of the feeling of relief sweeping over her at this information. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll let Carla know.’
Replacing the receiver Ellen couldn’t help wonder what had caused Amanda to change her apparently impromptu plan to visit in such a short space of time. Carla probably wouldn’t be very impressed having to go out in that cold weather to buy decaf coffee, which wouldn’t be needed now.
When the telephone rang once more a few minutes later, Ellen half expected it to be Amanda saying she’d changed her mind again, such was the unpredictability of the woman. However, the male voice at the other end put paid to that notion.
‘Could I speak to Ms Grosvenor?’ enquired the man.
‘I’m sorry but she’s not here, can I take a message?’ Ellen picked up a pen and pulled the notebook towards her.
‘Could you tell her Meadowlands Care Home called. It’s about her mother.’
‘Oh, nothing serious, I hope,’ said Ellen.
‘No, no. Nothing like that. Mrs Grosvenor isn’t actually a resident yet. It’s just some details I need to check with Ms Grosvenor in advance of her mother coming to reside with us.’
Ellen wrote the phone number down and assured the caller she would pass the message on.
She didn’t have to wait long for Carla to return, the clipping of heels down the hallway announcing her arrival.
‘Everything okay?’ Carla asked unbuttoning her coat and hanging it on the hook behind the office door.
Ellen got up from the desk. ‘Amanda rang to say she wasn’t coming any more. A change of plan.’
Carla let out an impatient huff. ‘That woman is so fickle.’
Ellen was inclined to agree. Amanda was consistently inconsistent. ‘There was another message too,’ she said moving out of Carla’s way so the PA could take her seat at the desk. Ellen pointed to the sticky note she had left on the computer screen. ‘Meadowlands Care Home want you to call them about the paperwork for your mother.’
This time the impatient huff was even louder. ‘That bloody home!’ It was an unguarded reaction that Ellen hadn’t been expecting at all. Carla rested her forehead on her fingertips, closing her eyes for a second or two.
‘Are you okay?’ ventured Ellen. She hadn’t seen this side of Carla before. Donovan’s secretary didn’t respond. Ellen placed a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. ‘Carla?’
A droplet of water puddled on the desk top. Carla quickly grappled with the tissue box, eventually extracting one before dabbing at her eyes.
‘I’m sorry. I’m fine,’ she said after a moment. She looked up at Ellen and for the first time, Ellen saw vulnerability in Carla’s eyes. ‘It’s Mother. She’s doesn’t want to go into the care home and is being a bit difficult about it all.’
‘That’s tough for you,’ said Ellen.
‘She’s … well … she’s too much for me to cope with any more. She has spates of lucidity but mostly she hasn’t really a clue what’s going on. Who I am. Where she is. You know, that sort of thing.’
‘I am sorry to hear that, Carla.’
‘God, you sound like I’ve told you she’s died.’ Carla held up her hand to quell Ellen’s further apologies. ‘Forget it. To be honest, sometimes it is like she’s died. The mother I’ve had all these years has been replaced by some mother that is a total stranger.’
‘Do you have any family to help you with her?’
‘One useless brother who is counting the days until Mother is six feet under so he can then count his inheritance.’ Carla screwed the tissue up and dropped it into the bin. ‘I’m fine. Just a bit exasperated by it all.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘You can’t. Not until you’ve been there yourself.’ The reply indicated that the old Carla was back in control. Ellen had been allowed a momentary glance at what went on in Carla’s personal life. But it was merely a glimmer. Normal service now resumed. ‘Anyway, enough of all this. I must get on with some work.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll see you later.’
‘Ellen,’ said Carla. She
looked up over the computer screen. ‘Don’t pay much attention to me, I’m just a grumpy old bag at times. I’m sure Donovan’s told you that.’
Was that a small smile she threw Ellen’s way? Maybe she had misjudged Carla. Maybe she and Carla had something in common after all. They both had things going on in their personal life that they didn’t want to share with anyone else. A small feeling of empathy for her colleague began to nudge its way into Ellen’s consciousness.
Donovan stood outside Ellen’s bedroom door. He had seen to Izzy that evening, bathing her and putting her to bed himself. He hadn’t seen Ellen at all, although Carla assured him she was up in her room resting.
He had hoped Ellen would come down, but it seemed she was keeping well out of his way.
He tapped on the door and waited.
The door opened slowly, Ellen looking uneasy as she shrugged on her cardigan over her t-shirt and pulled it around her in a protective way.
‘Can I come in?’ he asked.
She stepped back into the room and he followed, closing the door behind him.
His eyes toured the room and came to rest on the dressing table. Perfume. Nail varnish. Hair brush. Hairdryer. A packet of tissues. What he was looking for wasn’t there. He looked at Ellen, who folded her arms and tilted her chin slightly, defiance emanating from every part of her body, except for the eyes. The unnecessary blinking and wide pupils gave her away.
Without saying a word he strode over to the en-suite. Opening the door, he paused briefly to take another look at Ellen. Her shoulders took a subtle dip and he saw her swallow, but the game of brinkmanship continued. Donovan went into the small shower room and opened the mirrored door to the bathroom cabinet. He looked at the contents. Nothing remarkable and nothing in there that shouldn’t be. He closed the door.
Was that relief he felt? The one thing he had been looking for, he hadn’t found. That was good, right? It was then he noticed the wash bag and the relief waned. As much as he didn’t want to check there, he knew he had to.
His stomach lurched as he found the plastic bottle of pills. He turned the container over in his hand, looking for the printed prescription label. There wasn’t one. Instead the label simply read Calms Remedy. He opened the lid and shook several pills out into his hand.
