Page 105 of The Psychopath Next Door

‘She looks like a human being. She smiles and talks and laughs like one. But she isn’t. She’s like an alien in a human suit. A devil. I hope people will remember her name and the mask she wears so she can never fool anyone again.’

As we approached the spot the satnav had sent us to, the site of the former psychiatric hospital, the sky darkened rapidly and the heavens opened, fat raindrops bouncing off the windscreen, so hard the wipers couldn’t cope.

Into the forest, along a dark path, a dirt track that ended suddenly on the edge of some trees. There was Emma’s car, pulled over on the side of the road.

I parked behind it and told Dylan to stay in the car while I checked it. It was empty.

I returned to our car and gestured for Dylan to wind down the window.

‘I want you to stay here while I go and find the hospital.’

‘No way.’

‘I’m not going to argue. Lock the doors, stay in the car, don’t even open the windows for anyone you’re not related to. You’ve got your phone. If I’m not back in thirty minutes, dial 999. Okay?’

He stared at me.

‘Okay?’

A slow nod. I moved to get out of the car.

‘Dad, wait.’

I turned back.

‘Please, let’s call the police now. It’s not safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you.’

‘I’ll be careful. I promise. Stay here, do not move. And close this window.’

I headed into the trees before he could try to persuade me to let him come. Maybe it was too little too late, but I was determined not to put any more of my children in danger.

Beyond the trees, I found a fence. I felt along it, looking for a way in, wondering if I’d need to scale it, and found a section that had been cut away. I slipped through and climbed up the steep bank beyond.

There it was, the silhouette of a huge house beneath the darkening sky.

Ravenhill.

38

‘Maisie always said I was a dreamer,’ Fiona said, leading Rose and Emma into what had once been the reception area. It hadn’t changed since she’d last come here, a few months before her arrest, back when she’d thought she was about to be rich. There was still a desk in the corner, rotten and infested with woodworm. ‘But the moment I laid eyes on this place, I knew it was perfect.’

Rose was looking around, peering through doors, reading the peeling signs on the damp-mottled walls. She seemed interested, open-minded. Emma, on the other hand, was goggling at Fiona like this might be a wind-up.

‘It stinks in here. What is that?’

‘Pigeon shit, probably. It’s not that bad. It’ll soon fade once the birds have been rehomed.’

‘Rehomed ... What actuallyisthis place? Some kind of hospital?’

‘Ravenhill House,’ Fiona said. ‘Formerly one of Britain’s finest psychiatric institutions. Or lunatic asylums, as they used to call them.’

‘Sweet Jesus.’

Fiona noticed that Rose was paying attention now, and Fiona couldn’t help but play to the crowd. ‘There were few signs of Jesus here, Emma. People, mostly women in fact, could be locked awayfor anything from depression caused by losing their son or husband in the war, to leading an immoral life. Hysteria was a big one. The wandering womb, causing all sorts of trouble as it roamed around the female body. You could be locked up for adultery, jealousy, nymphomania.’

‘The bad old days,’ Emma said.

‘Maybe. I expect having an emotional affair with one’s neighbour qualified too, not that anyone used such ridiculous language in Victorian times. A cheat was a cheat.’

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