‘Espresso?’ It took a second to remember where I was. My eyes blinked open, taking in the unfamiliar room. There was a weird combination of tired Ikea bedroom furniture and ornate floral wallpaper, punctuated by a series of grand oil paintings. Right now, I seemed to be being eyeballed by a witchy-looking woman in a bonnet, who definitely disapproved of my nakedness. I pulled the duvet around me like a shroud. It smelt lived in – more man than Persil. ‘Straight espresso’s a bit strong for me,’ I said, looking up at Arthur. ‘Can I have some milk in it?’ ‘It’ll put hairs on your chest,’ he said, grinning and putting the tiny cup down on the messy nightstand. There was a stack of battered paperbacks with broken spines – On the Road, Crime and Punishment – a university reading list, frozen in time. ‘Is that your thing?’ I said, trying for playful. ‘A werewolf fetish?’ Jesus – I was failing miserably at hard to get. ‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ said Arthur, smirking down at me, and reaching a questing hand under the duvet. Yesterday had felt Arctic on every front. It had started with the official letter left on my desk, confirming my formal warning in black and white beneath a raised government seal. I shoved it in my drawer, but I could see from the way that Julia spent the day observing me that word had already reached her pregnant ears. Duncan was certainly making it pretty obvious how much shit I was in, his withering attitude showing no sign of thawing. Meanwhile, there was no r eply when I texted Sophie a pleading message – instead I just got a stomach-churning email from Mum mid-afternoon, reminding me how much my selfishness was tearing our family to shreds. It sent me back into my favourite, familiar toilet cubicle, my sobs swallowed down and silent so no one could add another crime to my rap sheet. My loneliness felt absolute, so when Arthur texted, I was vulnerable. It was gone ten o’clock by then, and I was in my pyjamas, zoned out in front of a reality show stuffed with twenty-somethings in bikinis hoping to get it on. He’d just got back, he said, and I was on his mind. Would it be ungentlemanly to ask if I fancied a night cap? It was sexy, I told myself, a mark of how much he liked me that I was the first thing he’d thought of when he’d touched back down on British soil. I didn’t want him to st ep into the messy chaos of my real life, so instead I decided his offer to pay for an Uber was pretty much the equivalent of a nobleman sending a horse-drawn carriage. And now, here I was, naked under the covers, while his hand made determined progress across the bumpy terrain of my body. There hadn’t been much de ep and meaningful conversation last night, either. ‘Slow down,’ I said, smiling at him to soften the words. ‘I mean... obviously it’s lovely, but I’ve got to go. I’m seeing Amber before work.’ His hand stopped dead, withdrew. He stood up straight. ‘Right. Of course. Do you see her every week?’ What to say? He knew so much about me, and also almost nothing. He’d heard me vomit out my de epest secrets and most painful vulnerabilities, yet I still felt too awkward to insist on milk in my coffee so it wouldn’t taste like tar. ‘Yeah, I have been,’ I said. ‘I hope I still am.’ I wanted to blurt it all out, tell him how agonizing it was not to be speaking to my beloved sister, but I didn’t want him to think I was draining. ‘It’s complicated. It’s been pretty awful with my family since I got back to be honest.’ Arthur looked visibly worried – maybe he did care about me, about my welfare. He paused, running one of his strong hands through the rumpled mess of his salt-and-p epper hair. I sat up and leaned back against the headboard.
‘Rachel... I don’t know about you, but I’m loving this.’ I could feel myself blushing, excitement coursing through my body at this handbrake turn. My whole consciousness was a trick mirror in those days, the warped reflections I saw so much more bearable than a clear image. ‘Yeah, no. Me too,’ I said. ‘Last night was really fun.’ ‘I just want to protect it for now. Don’t you? The two of us watering it, and letting it flower.’ The words landed like a dead weight, but I pushed the feeling off. ‘Absolutely,’ I said brightly. ‘It’s just ours, isn’t it? That’s what makes it special.’ Arthur grinned, visibly relaxing. I’d made myself unhappy to make him happy, which in a twisted way made me happy. ‘Exactly!’ he agreed. ‘Just ours for now. I’ll make you some toast. I’m guessing you’re far too sophisticated for marmalade?’ ‘I’m not Paddington!’ I shouted after his retreating back. Arthur Montague – the consummate host. The shape-shifting unhappiness came back as soon as I saw Amber, but there was enough other trouble going on to ensure that she didn’t identify the source. My tears soaked into the worn-out velvet of her sofa – I stroked its damp, piebald surface, the feel of it as familiar and comforting to me by now as a toddler’s favourite soft toy. I couldn’t bear the idea that Mum had sat on it, invading my sacred space. Now I couldn’t help but see this room through her narrowed eyes, the ugliness she’d have found where to me there was only beauty. ‘Why did you let her in?’ I demanded. ‘And why didn’t you tell me?’ Amber tucked a handful of dark hair behind her ear, revealing the gorgeous little track of silver studs that brought out the intense blue of her eyes. ‘Look at you, Rachel. Look at what even the thought of her does to you.’ ‘I’m okay,’ I said, my voice muffled by snotty distress. Amber’s smile was kindly disbelieving. ‘It’s my job to protect you, to let you feel safe so you can heal. The last thing you needed was knowing that your parents were trying to destroy that.’ A moan of fury erupted out of me, the sound almost a surprise. The truth was, I didn’t feel entirely in control anymore. ‘Fuck them. Fuck them! All that shit they talked about wanting me to get better – it was only for them. I can’t heal without telling the truth. And she’ll never let me have that because it doesn’t fit with her fucking narrative. And now she’s taken Sophie away from me, too.’ Amber continued with quiet intensity. ‘And she won’t even let you have peace. She’s never let you rest, has she? She’s always been too busy trying to mould you into the doll she ordered.’ I doubled over with sobs, my chest landing on my knees. ‘I’m so exhausted. I’m so fucking tired.’ A night of Arthur mauling me probably hadn’t helped, but I wasn’t going to admit to that. ‘I hear you, darling girl,’ said Amber softly. ‘There have been lifetimes of this. We know that now.’ That image of Mum – from long, long ago – swooped upwards and enveloped me, like a bat’s wings wrapping themselves around my face. My breath was ragged in my throat. ‘Stay in the room, Rachel. Take a sip of water,’ commanded Amber. ‘Feel your feet on the floor. I know it’s taking everything you’ve got right now, but all of this...’ – she paused, eyes full of feeling – ‘... I promise you it’s the darkness before the dawn.’ ‘Sophie!’ I wailed, paranoid thoughts assailing me in random configurations. ‘What’s Mum said to her? I thought she’d believe me. I’ve protected her for so long – I never thought she’d think I was lying when I finally told the truth.’ Amber was the calm within the storm that I was kicking up. ‘Your mother is a very powerful woman. Not everyone in your family’s as strong and far-sighted as you. You’ve changed; they haven’t. And
that’s lonely.’ ‘But she must see how weird it is that Esther’s just appeared again. It is weird. Fucking slipping around in our lives, all sickly sweet. She’s re volting. There’s something about it that—’ Amber abruptly shook her head, cutting across me. ‘Don’t think about that now, Rachel. Besides, that girl deserves your pity.’ ‘She can look after herself,’ I spat. Amber’s eyes flashed with unexpected anger. ‘You’re going down rabbit holes – trying to control things you can’t control, when you should be using that energy for your healing. For protecting yourself.’ ‘But what if I have to stop coming?’ I said, my distress a rising tide. ‘You’re the one who’s taught me to protect myself. It sounds fucking stupid, but I don’t know if I’ll survive.’ I was sobbing even harder now. ‘Jesus – what’s wrong with me?’ I’d shredded the damp tissue I was clinging onto, the remnants drifting down like a snowstorm onto the green velvet. ‘I’m not going to leave you, Rachel,’ Amber crooned. ‘You’re too dear to me. You know that. And it’s healthy that you feel that way – you’re attached to me, and that’s going to help you learn to trust in other healthy bonds. Find love that’s nothing like the twisted version you were forced to witness. Forced to collude with.’ Her expression was fierce, her face both beautiful and ugly, in that unique way that it could be. ‘It makes me so angry when I think about what you went through.’ I could barely speak through my tears. ‘Don’t leave me with them. Please.’ Amber stood up and quickly crossed to the sofa, her arms wrapping tightly around me like a warm net. I huddled my body against hers, shaking. ‘What if I lose my job? What if I lose everything?’ Amber cupped my face in her hands, as intimate as a lover. ‘Bag lady fantasy? Everyone has them.’ I laughed despite myself, and in the process I remembered how to breathe. Amber ran a thumb down my cheekbone. ‘This level of trauma,’ she said, blue eyes searching my face, ‘it’s unsustainable. You need to be selfish now, protect what is working.’ I thought of Arthur: his lion’s grin, his mane of curls. Was that working? ‘I know I do,’ I said, guilty about my secret. Amber was looking thoughtful. ‘There’s another way of looking at all of this, Rachel. You could choose to see it as your liberation. They’re not paying, and I’m not leaving. Simple maths.’ ‘What do you mean?’ I said. ‘I got a C for GCSE, just FYI.’ Amber grinned at me indulgently, and I loved her for it. ‘You could leave them. Cut contact. Look at how they make you feel. Would that be so bad?’ My head was shaking almost in voluntarily. ‘I couldn’t. I don’t think I could do that to her. And even if I could – she’d never let me go.’ ‘Why? Why couldn’t you?’ said Amber. ‘Try and wrap words around it.’ ‘I...’ I couldn’t speak, words as sharp as glass in my throat. ‘It would kill her.’ ‘What does that even mean, Rachel?’ she said. ‘Do you actually think it would make her suicidal? Give her cancer?’ ‘No...’ Amber looked at me so intensely that it felt as though she was X-raying my soul. ‘You know what this sounds like to me – a pact you made as a child, to protect Mummy. It probably made you feel safe, gave you a job to do, when in reality everything was so scary and out of control.’ Her voice dropped low. ‘Who knows how many lifetimes you even made it in, but I promise you, it’s a delusion. It was never your job to take care of her. She should have been looking after you.’ I sunk backwards, my sadness suddenly a dead weight that felt like it could crush me into dust. I forced myself to rally. ‘Anyway, her fucking ego wouldn’t allow it,’ I said. ‘She can’t bear people thinking we’re not the perfect family. It’s pretty much part of the business plan.’ Amber laughed. ‘And –
newsflash – you’re not a commodity. How many messages has she sent you in the past twenty-four hours?’ ‘Five texts and two emails.’ I shuddered. ‘That email yesterday afternoon really felt like a threat.’ ‘What made it feel that way?’ Amber was so focused – as energized as she’d been on each of our sessions in Devon, but now her attention was all mine. It made me feel unattractively smug. ‘The way she talked about you. I’m sorry...’ ‘It’s okay. I can be strong for both of us,’ said Amber, with that mischievous smile of hers. ‘I don’t scare easily.’ ‘She talked about not letting you take me away from her. That she was taking st eps. She doesn’t say that kind of thing unless she means it.’ A shiver of fear whispered across me, like someone had walked across my grave, and I leaned into Amber again. She took my weight, stroked my hair. It didn’t seem strange to me at all back then. Now when I conjure it up, it’s like an ancient snapshot from a time so different that I’d have to study my face to truly swear that it was me. ‘And you’ve asked her, when she’s texted, to stop, haven’t you? More than once?’ I nodded assent. ‘Totally.’ ‘So, she’s ignoring that, and continuing to make threats. In fact, those threats are escalating. Becoming more sinister.’ ‘Yes,’ I said, my voice barely audible. Amber looked down at me, her eyes as clear and bright as stars. ‘You’re going to struggle with what I’ve got to say, but try to hear the words and feel how your body reacts. Your body will always tell you the truth if you choose to hear its messages.’ ‘I’m listening,’ I whispered. ‘Think about what it would mean to be free of all this guilt, all this shame... all of the shit, Rachel! All of the shit that isn’t yours, which was dumped onto you and is still being used to control you and destroy your life.’ Lightness overtook me, like I was a helium balloon, disappearing into infinite sky. ‘I’d be free.’ Freedom or annihilation? Hard to call. ‘Exactly,’ said Amber triumphantly. ‘And I’ve got a plan to get you there.’