Page 73 of The Silent Patient

“Describe him to me.”

I hesitated. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I couldn’t see him clearly. I told you—he was too far away.”

“I see.”

“And—he was in disguise. He was wearing a cap. And sunglasses.”

“A lot of people are wearing sunglasses in this weather. And hats. Are they all in disguise?”

I was starting to lose my temper. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“And what is that?”

“You’re trying to get me to admit I’m going crazy again—like after Dad died.”

“Is that what you think is happening?”

“No. That time I was sick. This time I’m not sick. Nothing’s the matter with me—apart from the fact that someone is spying on me and you won’t believe me!”

Dr. West nodded, but didn’t say anything. He wrote a couple of things down in his notebook.

“I’m going to put you back on medication. As a precaution. We don’t want to let this get out hand, do we?”

I shook my head. “I’m not taking any pills.”

“I see. Well, if you refuse the medication, it’s important to be aware of the consequences.”

“What consequences? Are you threatening me?”

“It’s nothing to do with me. I’m talking about your husband. How do you think Gabriel feels about what he went through, last time you were unwell?”

I pictured Gabriel downstairs, waiting in the living room with the barking dog. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Do you want him to have to go through it all again? Do you perhaps think there’s a limit to how much he can take?”

“What are you saying? I’ll lose Gabriel? That’s what you think?”

Even saying it made me feel sick. The thought of losing him, I couldn’t bear it. I’d do anything to keep him—even pretend I’m crazy when I know I’m not. So I gave in. I agreed to be “honest’ with Dr. West about what I was thinking and feeling and tell him if I heard any voices. I promised to take the pills he gave me, and to come back in two weeks, for a checkup.

Dr. West looked pleased. He said we could go downstairs now and rejoin Gabriel. As he went downstairs in front of me, I thought about reaching forward and shoving him down the stairs. I wish I had.

Gabriel seemed much happier on the way home. He kept glancing at me as he was driving and smiling. “Well done. I’m proud of you. We’re going to get through this, you’ll see.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything. Because of course it’s bullshit—“we” aren’t going to get through this.

I’m going to have to deal with it alone.

It was a mistake telling anyone. Tomorrow I’m going to tell Barbie to forget all about it—I’ll say I’ve put it behind me and I don’t want to talk about it again. She’ll think I’m odd and she’ll be annoyed because I’ll be denying her the drama, but if I act normally, she’ll soon forget all about it. As for Gabriel, I’m going to put his mind at rest. I’m going to act like everything is back to normal. I’ll give a brilliant performance. I won’t let my guard slip for a second.

We went to the pharmacy on the way back, and Gabriel got my prescription. Once we were home again, we went into the kitchen.

He gave me the yellow pills with a glass of water. “Take them.”

“I’m not a child. You don’t need to hand them to me.”

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