Nine Months to Change His Life. Marion Lennox

escaping from my community as well.’

      ‘As bad as that?’

      ‘Worse,’ she said. ‘Baby killer, that’s me.’

      It was said lightly. It was said with all the pain in the world.

      ‘You want to tell me about it?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘You expect me to stay in the same bed as a baby killer?’

      She turned and stared and he met her gaze. Straight and true. If this woman was a baby killer he was King Kong.

      He smiled and she tried to smile back. It didn’t come off.

      ‘I’ve exonerated you,’ he told her. ‘Found you innocent. Evidence? If you really were a baby killer you’d be on a more secure island. Alcatraz, for instance. Want to tell me about it?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘I told you mine.’ He lifted the quilt so it reached her shoulders. ‘If you lie back, there are cushions. Very comfy cushions. You can stare into the dark and pretend I’m your therapist.’

      ‘I don’t need a therapist.’

      ‘Neither do I.’

      ‘You have nightmares.’

      ‘And you don’t?’ He put gentle pressure on her shoulder. She resisted for a moment. Heinz snuffled beside her. The wind raised its howl a notch.

      She slumped back on the pillows and felt the fight go out of her.

      ‘Tell Dr Ben,’ Ben said.

      ‘Doctor?’

      ‘I’m playing psychoanalyst. I’ve failed the army. I’m a long way from the New York Stock Exchange. My yacht’s a hundred fathoms deep. A man has to have some sort of career. Shoot.’

      ‘Shoot?’

      ‘What would an analyst say? So, Ms Smash ’em Mary, you’re confessing to baby killing.’

      And she smiled. He heard it and he almost whooped.

      What was it about this woman that made it so important to make her smile?

      Shoot, he’d said, and she did.