Page 69 of The Silent Patient

He also left me feeling angry. Now, in a way, he’s made it easy for me. Now I’m determined to cut him out of my life. What did he mean about “people around me”—presumably that means Gabriel? But why?

No. I’m not doing this. This is exactly what Jean-Felix wanted—to fuck with my head. Get me obsessing about him. Come between me and Gabriel.

I won’t fall for it. I won’t give it another thought.

I went back home, and Gabriel was in bed, asleep. He had a five a.m. call for a shoot. But I woke him up, and we had sex. I couldn’t get close enough to him or feel him deeply enough in me. I wanted to be fused with him. I wanted to climb inside him and disappear.

AUGUST11

I saw that man again. He was a bit farther away this time—he was sitting on a bench farther into the park. But it was him, I could tell—most people are wearing shorts and T-shirts and light colors in this weather, and he was wearing a dark shirt and trousers, black sunglasses, and cap. His head was angled toward the house, looking at it.

I had a funny thought—maybe he’s not a burglar, perhaps he’s a painter. Perhaps he’s a painter like me and he’s thinking about painting the street—or the house. But as soon as I thought this, I knew it wasn’t true. If he were really going to paint the house, he wouldn’t just be sitting there—he’d be making sketches.

I got myself into a state about it and I phoned Gabriel. That was a mistake. I could tell he was busy—the last he needed was me calling, freaking out because I think someone is watching the house.

Of course, I’m only assuming the man is watching the house.

He could be watching me.

AUGUST13

He was there again.

It was soon after Gabriel left this morning. I had a shower and saw him out the bathroom window. He was closer this time. He was standing outside the bus stop. Like he was casually waiting for the bus.

I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling.

I got dressed quickly and went into the kitchen to have a better look. But he was gone.

I decided to tell Gabriel about it when he got home. I thought he’d brush it off, but he took it seriously. He seemed quite worried.

“Is it Jean-Felix?” he said straightaway.

“No, of course not. How can you even think that?”

I tried to sound surprised and indignant. But in truth I had wondered that too. The man and Jean-Felix are the same build. It could be Jean-Felix, but even so—I just don’t want to believe it. He wouldn’t try and frighten me like that. Would he?

“What’s Jean-Felix’s number?” Gabriel said. “I’m calling him right now.”

“Darling, don’t, please. I’m sure it’s not him.”

“Positive?”

“Absolutely. Nothing happened. I don’t know why I’m making such a big deal out of it. It’s nothing.”

“How long was he there for?”

“Not long—an hour or so—and then he vanished.”

“What do you mean, vanished?”

“He just disappeared.”

“Uh-huh. Is there any chance you could be imagining this?”

Something about the way he said that annoyed me. “I’m not imagining it. I need you to believe me.”

“I do believe you.”

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