Tell Me No Lies. Lisa Hall

knocking on the door? I just worry it might be somehow connected to what happened … you know … before.’ I suck in a deep breath and blink back tears as I tell him exactly what the note said. He fiddles with his wedding ring, twisting it slowly around his finger. He must have lost weight; it never used to move so easily on his hand.

      ‘Maybe they didn’t want to wake you. It just seems to me like someone genuinely being nice, that’s all. Steph, you worry too much. It’s not to do with Llewellyn Chance, I promise you. Whoever it was just wanted to cheer you up, that’s all. The sender might have even got the wrong door for all you know; they might have been meant for Lila. Please try not to worry.’ I drop his hand. Maybe they were meant for Lila, but something inside me says they were meant for me, and that’s not necessarily a good thing.

      ‘Maybe I am reading too much into it all. Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry; let’s not spoil your last night at home. Let’s order dessert.’ Not wanting to talk about it any further I pick up the dessert menu and study it carefully, until Mark gently pushes it down away from my face.

      ‘Do you want me to check? Make sure that he’s still inside?’ His eyes search my face and I shake my head gently.

      ‘No. No, it’s OK, they would have told me if he wasn’t. Please, Mark, let’s just leave it.’

      ‘Steph, you are still seeing Dr Bradshaw, aren’t you? You’ll keep seeing him while I’m gone?’

      ‘What? Yes, of course.’ My face flames and I dip forward, allowing my hair to fall over my face. I have cancelled my last two appointments with Dr Bradshaw behind Mark’s back. I don’t really need to see him, I’m sure I don’t. I am feeling much better and writing in the diary helps a lot.

      ‘Please make sure you keep going, Steph. It’s important, especially after last time. I don’t want us to have to go through it all again, and I know you don’t want to. I love you, Steph. I just want you to be OK.’

      ‘I said, yes, didn’t I?’ My tone is sharp and Mark seems to realise that it’s time to drop it. Mark calls Dr Bradshaw a counsellor, but we both know he’s not. We both know he’s a therapist, a head doctor, whatever you want to call him. We both know that Mark wants me to keep on seeing him because, even though I know he loves me, even though I know he regrets what he did, deep down Mark thinks I am still a teensy bit crazy. The mood changes after that and we decide not to bother with dessert. Arriving home earlier than planned, Mark tries to give Lila some money for babysitting, but she waves him away, laughing, saying it was her pleasure and that she doesn’t get out enough as it is. I smile weakly at her and use checking on Henry as an excuse to make my way upstairs, out of the way of their banter, too tired to pretend tonight.

      As I tiptoe into Henry’s room and perch on the end of his bed, the nightlight casting a warm glow over his perfect features, he opens his eyes and smiles at me.

      ‘Hi, Mummy,’ he says, rolling over to face me.

      ‘Hey, baby.’ I lean down and kiss him on the forehead. ‘What are you doing awake? You should be asleep by now.’

      ‘I woke up and I couldn’t get back to sleep. Lila made me a hot chocolate and read me some stories. Next time she says she’s going to teach me how to play dominoes.’

      ‘Well, that was very kind of her. You need to go to sleep now, sweetie – it’s school in the morning.’ He makes a face as I pull him in tight for one last hug, inhaling the sleepy, biscuity scent of him. A noise in the doorway startles me and I turn to see Mark’s profile outlined in the shadowy hallway, so I stand and walk over to him, leaning my head on his broad chest. He wraps me in his strong arms and we gaze down at our finest achievement, our sweet, tiny boy, who gives a little sigh and slips easily back into sleep.

      ‘I’m sorry for bringing up Dr Bradshaw tonight, Steph. I know you’re still seeing him and I know you’re much better, I just can’t help worrying about you, that’s all.’ Mark says to me as we get into bed.

      ‘Honestly, Mark, you have nothing to worry about, I promise.’ I fluff my pillow behind me and change the subject. ‘Henry seems to have hit it off with Lila, that’s a good sign, right? Maybe it’ll be good for us when you’re not here, having Lila across the street. I won’t feel so isolated.’

      ‘Definitely. And I know we weren’t going to talk about it any more, Steph, but I really do think that your friendship with Lila is a sign that things are going to work out OK. The fact that you’re willing to let someone new in speaks volumes, after everything we’ve gone through together. After everything you’ve gone through. I’m proud of you.’ He kisses the top of my head, and although I want to ask him to elaborate, to tell me how everything is going to work out OK in the end, I relax into the kiss and murmur my agreement. I can sort of see what he’s getting at – after what happened before, then after Henry and the problems that I had, followed by Mark’s indiscretion (oh, it was so much more than an indiscretion, but how can I say any more than what I have done already?) I shut myself off completely from the rest of the world. I was so terrified that if I let someone new in that they would somehow end up hurting me that I just stopped doing it. I pushed away all the friends that I did have, and refused to make any new ones, cutting myself off from the outside world. The only one who stuck with me is Tessa, my oldest friend. The one who already knows everything that there is to know about me, who knows all about the darkness that surrounds me and refuses to budge no matter how hard I push. She was the one who was there to hold my hand and help me pick up the pieces when everything fell apart around me when I was fifteen. She was the one I went to when I couldn’t talk to my mum about what had happened. She was the one who held me as I cried, when I thought I would never ever feel normal again. So maybe Mark does have a point – maybe my friendship with Lila does show that I’m starting to open up again, that I’m ready to let people in, but the posy still plays on my mind. I decide to make an appointment with Dr. Bradshaw first thing tomorrow morning, just to keep Mark happy.

CHAPTER SEVEN

      Dr Bradshaw’s office is cold in both senses of the word. I sit in the reception area, avoiding eye contact with the other patients waiting for their turn to be seen. The heating is switched off, as is usual for this office, despite the fact that it’s December. It’s been snowing on and off for the last week, the first snowfall just having had time to turn to slush and ice before the arrival of the next deluge. I shiver slightly, pulling my thick cardigan tighter around my body, and give a small smile as the receptionist does the same, pulling the sleeves of her jumper down over her hands. The décor doesn’t help the chill either – walls painted with a pale, frosty light blue add to the chilly feel, and hard, plastic chairs mean no one sits comfortably while they wait. You would think for the amount of money Mark is paying there would be a little bit of luxury awarded.

      ‘Stephanie Gordon?’

      I look up as the receptionist calls my name and gestures towards the closed door at the far end of the corridor.

      ‘Dr Bradshaw will see you now.’

      I smile my thanks at her and start the walk down the brightly lit corridor, painted with the same chilly blue, my heart beginning to hammer nervously in my chest. I hate these appointments, constantly feeling as though each one is a test I must pass to be able to carry on with my life, even though Dr Bradshaw is always perfectly pleasant. I give a tiny tap on the door and push it open, making my way inside.

      ‘Steph. How are you?’ Dr Bradshaw swivels around in his chair and gives me a warm smile. Around my age, with warm, crinkly eyes and a neatly trimmed, bang on trend beard, he is ridiculously good-looking for a psychiatrist – not at all what I had imagined when I first began seeing him. Not at all what Mark would have expected either, if he had ever managed to come along with me.

      ‘I’m OK, I suppose.’ Handsome or not, I am always nervous when I see him, anxious to make sure I say the right thing so he doesn’t decide to cart me off to the loony bin.

      ‘You missed your last two sessions – is there