Before I Let You In

by Jenny Blackhurst

  ‘She’s not going to do anything, Eleanor,’ Bea said. ‘She knows about Michael. She knows everything.’

  Eleanor looked at her like a wounded child and Karen took a breath and nodded. ‘She’s right, Els. I knew he was married.’

  From sympathy to disappointment, then finally rage, Eleanor’s emotions played out on her face as though they were written in Magic Marker. ‘What the hell are you playing at? How could you get yourself involved with a married man? Has he got a family? Karen? Does he have children?’

  Karen knew this situation was bringing into the open everything that Eleanor feared about Adam. She had nightmares about her family being taken away from her by some unknown femme fatale, a woman with no morals who took what she wanted and gave no thought to the other people involved. The woman her best friend had just turned out to be.

  ‘I …’

  ‘If you say you love him, I might punch you in the mouth.’ Karen didn’t think Eleanor meant it, but she could be wrong and she wasn’t willing to take the chance. Bea was silently watching her and Karen wasn’t sure what she wanted from her. She knew what Eleanor wanted; Eleanor wanted her to cry, beg forgiveness from people she hadn’t even wronged, explain how she’d had no idea until last week, or even last night and her trustworthy, reliable best friend wasn’t a lying relationship-wrecking cheat. Bea was a mystery.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Bea asked quietly. ‘You’ve been lying to us for years.’

  ‘Because I didn’t want to see that look on your face,’ Karen replied, one hundred per cent truthfully. ‘I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.’

  ‘Because you wanted us to think you were Little Miss Perfect,’ Eleanor raged. ‘You couldn’t bear us to know that you’re morally bankrupt. You’re so high and mighty all the time, with your classy job and your puke-free wardrobe and your un-sweary vocabulary. When the whole time you’ve been breaking up people’s lives.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Eleanor, and stop yelling, you’re causing a scene.’ Bea’s words were emotionless. Karen thought she preferred Eleanor’s histrionics.

  ‘Say something, Karen. Please say something.’

  ‘Bea’s right.’ Karen’s eyes dropped to the table, and now that she could no longer see their accusing faces, the dam broke. The words came flooding out, crashing into one another, each one fighting to get out faster than the one before. ‘I knew he was married when we met, and it wasn’t that I didn’t care, I just didn’t care enough to not let anything happen between us. When he flirted with me, when he made it obvious he fancied me, I pushed the thought of his wife and family into some black box in my mind and buried it. And every time we met in secret I threw another layer of dirt on top of the box until I forgot it was there completely. We slept together and I felt no guilt whatsoever. I’d never even met her – she didn’t exist to me. His children weren’t real people and I never let myself think about them long enough for their existence to bother me.’

  She took a breath and looked up. If it was at all possible, Eleanor’s face was more contorted in disgust than it had been before she started talking. Bea was chewing the inside of her lip and refusing to meet her eyes.

  ‘And when I introduced him to you guys, you both thought he was perfect, and he tried so hard with you all. I couldn’t tell you then. I didn’t want every conversation we had to be about whether Michael was going to leave his wife, or if I was going to leave him. I couldn’t stand the thought of what you’d say after I’d left the room, about what an idiot I was, and how the relationship was doomed to failure. Even if you had accepted it – and I knew you never would, Eleanor – you’d never let me forget that he wasn’t really mine. And I’ve been good at forgetting.’

  Hot tears burned the corners of her eyes and she blinked furiously to get rid of them. She never cried in front of her friends.

  ‘I don’t have to listen to this.’ Eleanor rose and snatched up her bag so violently the table shook. ‘This whole thing makes me feel sick. And to think the only reason we were keeping secrets from you was to plan you a fucking birthday party. That’s the only thing we’ve ever not told you in our lives! I’m going. Are you coming, Bea?’

  Karen couldn’t resist looking at Bea with what she was sure must be desperation. If Bea stayed now, there was a chance she would forgive her. She wasn’t going to give up Michael, she couldn’t, but maybe she could make Bea see that one bad thing didn’t make her a bad person. Surely she would understand that no one was perfect?

  But Karen didn’t get the chance to try and make her see the situation from where she was sitting, because Bea got up and followed Eleanor out, leaving her completely alone.

  57

  Karen

  Karen rapped on the door and pushed it open with her palm. Robert was sitting at his desk, slumped forward, his elbows resting on the shiny oak. The serious look on his face put her on her guard instantly; he looked as though someone had replaced his PlayStation with an abacus.

  ‘Karen.’ He gestured for her to enter, and she pushed the door closed behind her and moved further into the room. The pain in her head intensified.

  ‘What’s this about, Robert?’ She placed a hand on the back of the chair in front of her to steady herself. Her legs didn’t feel like they were up to the job of keeping her upright any more.

  ‘Are you going to sit down? You’re making my office look untidy.’

  ‘Don’t try and make light of this, Robert. What am I doing here?’ When he didn’t answer, just looked pointedly at the chair, she reluctantly sat down.

  ‘You’re right, it’s not a light situation, I’m afraid.’ He rubbed a hand over his face and the bubble of dread in her stomach grew heavier. ‘There’s been a complaint.’

  It took her a minute to process his words. The first thought that entered her head was About who? But that was a stupid question. She already knew who the complaint was about – she wasn’t a senior partner yet; she wouldn’t be consulted on an issue like this unless she was involved somehow. The complaint was about her. It was from Jessica Hamilton.

  ‘Who?’ He didn’t even look at her. ‘Robert, who complained about me?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that, you know I can’t.’

  ‘So what am I doing here?’ She went to stand up, but thought better of trying to force her legs to work and sank back down into the cool leather. ‘If we’re doing this by the book, then why are you even telling me? Shouldn’t I be in front of the board right now? Hot coals on the floor, me dancing over them while you lot sharpen your pitchforks?’

  Robert sighed. Obviously he was warning her in order to prevent her making a scene in front of the other partners. Not only out of a sense of misguided loyalty; he thought her unhinged enough to put both their careers at risk. Better to have the fireworks here and hope she’d calmed down by the time she got in front of the board.

  ‘I thought I owed it to you to warn you. We have to have a formal meeting before the GMC investigates, but I didn’t want these accusations levelled at you for the first time in front of the other partners.’

  ‘What’s the nature of the complaint?’ Her voice didn’t waver or crack; she sounded just like herself. The herself she was before she ever met Jessica Hamilton. Before her life imploded.

  ‘They claim you smelled of alcohol during a session.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous!’ And impossible. She never drank alcohol before work – she got to the office at nine, for goodness’ sake – and had never even had so much as a sip on her lunch break.

  ‘You must know I’d never drink at work; why are you even entertaining the idea?’

  ‘That isn’t the whole complaint. They also said that you called them to rearrange their appointment and then weren’t in the office when they arrived; that you let them down in this way on more than one occasion. They said that during the sessions you did make it to you were distracted and appeared to have been drinking. They said you called them at home to comment on something written
on their personal Facebook page and that you sent them inappropriate text messages outside of sessions.’

  ‘Well it’s all lies, Robert. And easily proved to be lies as well. I don’t understand why someone would think they could get away with this.’

  ‘If it is lies—’

  ‘If?’

  ‘Okay, let’s go with me believing you. Because I want to, Karen, honestly, despite what I’ve seen with my own eyes these last few weeks. But we have to take every complaint seriously.’

  ‘But they are lying. I swear to you, Robert, I’ve never sent a patient any text message, let alone an inappropriate one. And drinking at work? I don’t even drink on a work …’

  She stopped, knowing that she was about to voice the lie she’d been telling herself for weeks. She never used to drink at all, not for ten years, but just lately she’d been having the odd one or two at night to relax – in fact she’d had a drink every evening this week. But she showered, she brushed her teeth, there was no way she’d still smell of alcohol at 9 a.m. the next day. Would she? Oh God. She put her face in her hands and rubbed her fingers against her temples as she felt the last of Robert’s goodwill get its coat.

  ‘I don’t drink at work,’ she mumbled.

  ‘I think you should take some time off,’ Robert said by way of reply.

  Her hands dropped to her lap and her head snapped up in shock. ‘Is that a joke? If I leave now, I just look guilty. I’m not taking any time off.’

  ‘It doesn’t make you look guilty; it makes you look like you’re taking the allegations seriously.’

  ‘Well I’m not taking them seriously. And frankly I’m furious that you are. They are completely unfounded and you know it! If there had been any proof whatsoever that I’d been sending inappropriate messages to patients, or drinking at work for that matter, I’d have been suspended the minute I walked in. The fact that it’s even got to go in front of the board means you don’t have enough to make the decision yourself. I’m not going anywhere, Robert.’

  He sighed. ‘I had a feeling you’d say that. You’re right, there’s no real proof, thank God. I’ve seen the text messages and they haven’t come from any number we have on file for you. Despite how pissed off at me you are right now, Karen, I’m your friend and I don’t want this to get as far as suspension. But these things have to be investigated and I’d rather you weren’t here while that happened. What I want you to do is take some time off; you and Michael go on holiday or something, get yourself back on track.’

  She finally found her feet. ‘We can’t just run off on holiday, life isn’t that simple for everyone. And anyway, I haven’t come off track. I’m not taking time off; you’ll have to suspend me.’ She picked up her bag and moved towards the door, her stride more confident than she felt. Only the thudding of her heart against her ribcage gave any indication of the panic rushing through her. She couldn’t lose her job, it meant everything to her. Without it she didn’t even know who she was.

  ‘At least take the rest of the day,’ Robert called after her hopefully. She was on the cusp of saying no when she caught sight of herself in the black glass-panelled door. Her complexion was paper white against the darkness of the backdrop, only the dark purple half-moon shapes under her eyes adding any colour. Her hair, usually straight and shiny, had fallen into the natural kinks it got from being slept on wet, and there was a white stain on her left breast – toothpaste. At least she’d remembered to brush her teeth this morning. The pulsing that had been strumming a rhythm in the base of her skull since she’d woken had risen now to a concerto.

  ‘Yes, okay, fine.’

  ‘What? Fine what?’ His voice was laden with suspicion.

  ‘I’ll take the rest of the day off. Maybe tomorrow, too. I’ll come back after the weekend, unless you and the other partners feel you have enough evidence of wrongdoing to formally suspend me. What action will you take with the board?’

  He gestured to the papers on his desk, and she realised with a jolt that the file outlining the complaint was in front of him. ‘I’ll have to show them the evidence I’ve been presented with, but I suspect it will be an informal meeting rather than a hearing. We probably won’t even need you involved.’ Robert’s voice had relaxed a little; maybe all he’d wanted was for her to realise the seriousness of her situation. Maybe if she’d gone away, taken a break like he’d told her, things would have turned out differently. There was no way of knowing that now.

  58

  It was either falling into place or falling apart and I had no idea which. There had been times over the last few weeks when I’d felt like I’d gone too far – I’m not evil, you need to know that, I just wanted to make them see. I’d thought a lot about that concept of good and evil – what made me any better than her? The things I’d done, I had good reasons, but in the end didn’t everyone say that? The prison system is full of ‘innocent’ men. In the moments that I stopped and looked into the distance, I would become terrified of where it would all end, debilitated by the fear of what I was becoming. I could have stopped it at any moment. Couldn’t I? If I could – if I had – it would never have turned out this way. They would still be alive.

  59

  Karen

  Karen sat staring into the still pool of water, tiny air bubbles bursting against the surface the only indication that an entire ecosystem lived and breathed beneath. It was the same thing that had always fascinated her about the mind – how so much could go on in people’s subconscious that even they weren’t aware of. So much floating unseen just out of reach until the bubble reached the top and burst.

  Suspended. A forty-minute hearing with the board of the GMC and the only phrase she could remember was suspended pending further investigation.

  A big part of her wasn’t worried at all. Years of being told what a crucial part of the practice she was, before that being top of every class at university, walking through every exam as if she’d written the questions herself, had left her feeling professionally invincible. She was the teacher’s pet, clearly Robert’s favourite by a mile. There was no way these ridiculous allegations were going to stick, and Robert was just going through the motions with this formal suspension. He had his practice to think about, and she respected his – and the other partners’ – decision. She would have made the same one had it been any of her colleagues in her position.

  Then there was the other part of her. The part that whispered words like ethics committee, professional disgrace, suspended pending further investigation. This was always going to be a blot on her copybook, a black mark against her name. Even if she was cleared of any wrongdoing and kept on at the practice, her colleagues would forever be giving each other sidelong glances when they saw her, all wanting to sit next to her at meetings to see if they could smell alcohol on her breath, second-guessing every opinion she put forward as to someone’s care. Her cases would be reassigned while she was on her imposed hiatus, and it was unlikely she would get them back even if she was reinstated. She’d be starting from scratch, all her hard work in the hands of one of the other psychiatrists. As formal as they all tried to keep their sessions, she had come to care about her patients; she had a vested interest in their well-being. Would alcoholic Gerry Young continue to stay on the wagon under the care of someone else? Would Susan Webster be forced to relive her experience from the beginning with one of the other partners? Or would they quit therapy altogether, unable to face starting again? And what would become of Jessica Hamilton?

  The idea sat like a brick in her stomach. Nothing she had tried to do – not cleaning or reading or watching awful programmes with irritating hosts and guests with more problems than the whole of their patient list put together – nothing distracted her from the snowballing idea that she’d been wrong all along. That all this had been for nothing.

  60

  Bea

  When the door opened, it was Michael who stood behind it.

  ‘She’s not here, Bea,’ he said, his voice wary.


  ‘I know,’ Bea replied shortly. ‘I came to see you. Will she be long?’

  ‘She’s gone to get some wine and a takeaway from that place we like in Bridgnorth. She’ll only be about half an hour. She’s had some trouble at work; she doesn’t want to talk to anyone.’

  ‘You’d better let me in quickly then.’

  Michael looked as though he was about to argue, then dropped his eyes to the floor and let out a weary sigh. Without waiting to see if she was following, he walked through into the living room. Bea pushed the front door closed and followed him.

  ‘I assume this is where you question my motives towards Karen, tell me I’m the scum of the earth and warn me away from your best friend or you’ll tell my wife.’

  Bea’s smile was without humour. ‘And then you tell me your wife doesn’t understand you, you haven’t had sex for years and you’re only together until the children are old enough for you to leave.’

  Michael raised his eyebrows: touché. ‘So why are you here?’

  Bea perched herself on the edge of the sofa as though it was alien to her; as though she hadn’t curled up on it a hundred times, a bottle of wine at her feet.

  ‘I’m worried about Karen.’

  ‘You needn’t be. She knows exactly what she’s involved in and she can walk away at any time.’ He rubbed his hand over his chin. ‘She’s a grown-up, Bea, and what we have works. I don’t lie to her, and she doesn’t lie to me. She’s happy.’