Catch Me When I Fall (25 page)

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Authors: Nicci French

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Mystery, #Psychological, #Large Type Books, #Psychological Fiction, #Fiction - Psychological Suspense, #England, #Extortion, #Stalking Victims, #Businesswomen, #Self-Destructive Behavior

BOOK: Catch Me When I Fall
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'Have you thought this through?'
'I think so.'
'Does Holly appreciate you?'
Im not telling her about this. I just want her to be safe when she comes out of hospital.'
'So you're doing it and not even wanting to be thanked. That's positively unnatural.'
'It's gone beyond things like that now,' I heard myself say, realizing as I said it that it was true. "It feels more like a matter of life and death or sanity and insanity or something. I feel don't really have a choice.'
There was a silence. He stroked my hair absentmindedly. "What are you thinking?'
"I'm thinking you should have told me before.'
'I wanted to, but it was Holly's secret to tell, not mine." 'You shouldn't have gone there by yourself." "I had Lola with me." "Great.' He'd met Lola. "It was fine."
"You're really going to do this?'

"Well, then, I was thinking that I can give you four thousand. It's all I've got. A bit more than all I've got.'

'No!" I said. 'No, no and no. That would be all wrong. You don't even know Holly. The only time you met her she was offensive and rude. I wouldn't have told you anything if I'd thought you ere going to offer. Now I feel awful.'
"I want to.'

"Meg, I want to. I've decided.'
"But this is all wrong -I can't take money from you."
'Why not?"
'I just can't."

'A loan, then.'
'But...'
"But without the weekly interest.'
'Todd.'
'What?'
'I don't know what to say.'
'Why do you have to say anything?'

The remaining thousand pounds I borrowed from Trish and an old school friend who worked in the City, lived in a large house in Camden and spent five hundred on every pair of shoes she bought. I said I'd pay them back after Christmas, without fail; just a slight cash-flow problem. Everyone was a bit embarrassed.

On Monday morning I felt faint with nerves. I made myself go through the motions of working but I couldn't concentrate on anything. I took an hour to answer a few routine emails, then opened the post slowly, trying to look busy. At lunchtime I went to my bank and withdrew eleven thousand five hundred pounds. I now had an overdraft of four hundred and six pounds in my current account, and x.56 left in my special savings account. I felt a bit tipsy as I pushed the bundles of notes into a plastic bag and then into my shoulder-bag: a mixture of heroic self-sacrifice, sadness, resentment and euphoric strangeness. I wasn't used to doing wild, dramatic things like this. It was as though I had stepped into someone else's life.
I met Todd outside his workplace. He came out looking like a criminal, glancing extravagantly from side to side and holding to his chest a scuffed briefcase I hadn't seen before. A little giggle lodged in my chest. I hugged him tight and kissed his cold cheek.
'Hi,' he half whispered, then smirked at himself.
"Are you hungry? Do you want to grab a bite to eat first?'

'What? Carrying all this cash with us? Christ, Meg, let's just
deliver it and get it over with before we lose it or get mugged.' 'Are you all right?'
'I feel peculiar. Illicit. As if we're about to rob a bank or something.'
'If only. We're the ones who are being robbed, remember?' 'Where's the car?'
"Parked on a meter round the comer.' 'Let's go.' 'Todd.' "What?" 'Thanks.'
'Say that later. Come on.'

It was only the fat man this time, although there were sounds from the back of the shop. He locked the door after we came in and turned the sign to 'Closed'. Then he went back round the other side of the counter and I handed over my plastic bag and Todd's two manilla envelopes. He touched his tongue to his forefinger delicately and started to flick through the notes with practised skill. We both stared at him. I watched his small hands riffling
the money and his rosebud lips, which he licked constantly. 'Good,' he said at last. "Can I have a receipt?'
He tore a piece of paper from a pad, scrawled the figures on it and handed it to me.
"This isn't exactly a VAT receipt,' I said.
'So what?'
'How do I trust you? What if you just denied getting the money? What if you keep on hassling Holly?'
The fat man looked hurt. 'We're a business," he said. 'What would that do for our reputation? You've settled up. Now go away.'

32

It sounds awful to say but I felt proud of myself. I had gone out into the awful mess that Holly had left behind her and I had sorted it out. I wasn't sure whether I had slain a dragon or just done a bit of spring-cleaning, but I had made Holly's world a less hostile place. I looked forward to telling her about it and teasing a smile out of her; slowly things would start to get better. It didn't turn out like that. When 1 came through the door of her ward, she was lying in her bed with her back to me. The position looked unnatural and ominous. I walked round so that I could look at her face. She was pale, her skin clammy. At first I thought she was asleep, but then her eyes opened. They looked dead, like the eyes of a fish.
'Holly," I said. 'How are you?"
She mumbled something I couldn't make out so I leaned closer. It was nonsense, just meaningless syllables. 'What is it?' I said. 'What's happened?'
In my alarm, I ran for a nurse and almost dragged her across to Holly's bed. 'Something's terribly wrong with her,' I said. 'She needs a doctor.'
The nurse frowned and bent over Holly. She took the chart from the end of the bed. "Miss Krauss is resting,' she said. "She's
just got back from her first treatment." "What sort of treatment?' 'ECT."
I almost fought my way past Dr Thorne's secretary on my way in to his office. He was on the phone and looked baffled to see me. I stood there stubbornly until he replaced the receiver.

"I'm Holly Krauss's friend," I said. "You talked to me the other day."
"Yes, Meg, I know who you are.'
"What's the hell's going on? I just came in to see her and she was completely incoherent. And then I discovered she's been given ECT.' I paused. There was no response. 'Well?'
'I ordered the treatment,' he said, "with the consent of Miss
Krauss and her husband."
'What on earth for?" I said.
"I'm sorry, I really can't discuss the details of her treatment
with you.'
'This is a scandal,' I said. Im going to make a complaint.'
Dr Thorne stood up in some alarm. 'Wait,' he said. 'Look. I
can't talk about the details of Miss Krauss's case. You can discuss it with her yourself."
"She's not in a state to discuss anything.'
'That'll be the anaesthetic or the muscle relaxant. It's nothing
to do with the ECT.'
'I can't believe you've given her this extreme treatment. It's
medieval.'
'It's not in the least extreme," said Dr Thome. 'All you know about it probably comes from old movies. I promise you it's nothing like that. It's a safe procedure. We give it to pregnant women in preference to medication. We give it to geriatric patients almost as a matter of course.'
'You're electrocuting her brain,' I said.
He smiled at that. "Strictly speaking, "'electrocuting" means to kill with electricity.'
'Don't play with words. What will it do to her brain?'
"Some patients report a degree of memory loss,' he said, 'but it's usually recovered. The main point is that it is an effective treatment. And in certain patients it can be crucial.'
"You mean severely ill patients?"

He looked uneasy. "For example, it is almost indispensable in cases where a patient might be considered to be at imminent risk.'
"Do you mean that Holly was suicidal?"
He gave a gesture of helplessness. Im sorry," he said. "That's off-limits. All I can say is that you're her friend. You know her. You know what she's been through."
'This is mad,' I said. "Ridiculous. She's not severely ill. She was getting so much better. I can't believe that this has suddenly happened now. She told me. She said she wanted to live. She won't try again. I know.'
Dr Thorne was not to be drawn. He sat down again. Clearly our interview was over.

When I got back to the ward, Charlie was there and Holly was
properly awake. She smiled weakly when she saw me.
'How are you doing?'
'It's a bit fuzzy,' she said. "Woozy. Dizzy. Words with Z in them keep coming into my, er, you know.'
I felt it was my duty to be cheerful about it, at least with Holly.
'I talked to Dr Thorne,' I said. 'He was very positive about it.' "I was a bit, you know ... about it. Sort of Cuckoo's Nest. Thought you'd come in and find me with a scar on my shaved head. Put a pillow over my face.'
She still made me laugh. I stroked her face. 'You look well,' I said.
We talked for a while, although it was a disjointed conversation. Charlie hovered in the background, not joining in. He fetched coffee for us, fussed with the bed and arranged Holly's things. I felt so sorry for him. He'd spent so much of the past year being a spectator at the Great Holly Show and now he was having to be a nurse as well. I wondered if he resented my

presence or whether it was a relief. I looked at my watch and remembered I had a life to lead elsewhere. But I wanted to talk to Charlie first. I nodded at him to follow me away from the bed. We paused in the corridor outside the ward. It was busy with trolleys, nurses, a party of fresh-faced medical students in their white coats. I told Charlie how surprised I'd been. 'I know," he said. 'It was a difficult decision. But Dr Thorne said it would be for the best.'
'I don't just mean that,' I said. 'He was irritatingly discreet with me. But from what he said it sounded as if he thought Holly was still suicidal.'
There was a pause.
Yes?" said Charlie.
'But she isnt.'
'What are you talking about, Meg? Are you blind or what?
What do you think she's doing here? She died in the ambulance. It's, a miracle they g, of her ,b, ack."
I know, I know, I said. But she's different now. She told me.
She said she had discovered she wanted to live."
Charlie shook his head. 'I wish it were like that. Maybe with
you she's still putting on her cheerful-Holly act. With me, it's
not like that. She still talks of suicide. She dwells on it. Dr Thorne says that that's a key risk factor.'
'Has she talked about it to him?'
'I don't know,' he said. "She's talked about it to me and I've talked to Dr Thorne. Does it matter?"
'It just seems so very different from the way she's been with me."
He looked at me sharply, with narrowed eyes. I was worried that I'd offended him. 'You know Holly, the great pretender. But even with you she talked about you putting a pillow over her face.'
'That was just a joke."

'Who the hell are you to say whether it's a joke or not? he said.
I'm sorry,' I said, startled by Charlie's sudden anger. 'Let" not argue. We're both on the same side.'
'I know. I'm letting it get to me. It's all been exhausting.' 'It must have been,' I said. .
'You know what, Meg? I used to worry what people would, do to Holly. Now it's what she'll do to herself. Sometimes I fee I've lost her. I think what she wants is to die. If that's true I don't know what any of us can do to stop it.'

33

The day before Holly came home, I arrived at her house with flowers, only to find it full of extravagant vases of lilies and winter roses that made my small bunch of anemones seem futile. The place was bustling with people. Charlie's mother had just arrived, and was sitting on the sofa, plump and relaxed, smoking a menthol cigarette, while Holly's mother banged pans in the kitchen. Charlie was hanging decorations on an asymmetrical Christmas tree, and Naomi was in the last stages of painting Holly and Charlie's bedroom a soft green. 'We thought we'd give her a surprise," she said, grinning down at me from the step-ladder, a smudge of paint on her cheek.
I felt a stab of childish jealousy. "You should have told me. I would have helped.'
"I know how busy you are and, anyway, I like decorating,' said Naomi. She laid her brush carefully on the lid of the paint can. 'Do you fancy a cup of tea? There's some ginger cake I made as well.'
"No, thanks,' I said shortly. 'I can't stop.'

I didn't go round the next day. I thought she'd need to get settled in first. But in the evening, as I was on my way home, my mobile rang and it was her. She told me that everyone was being very attentive and then she snorted derisively and my spirits rose. 'It's a real pain," she said. 'The two mothers aren't on speaking terms. Charlie's trying so hard to please everybody he's like a dog running between owners. Can you come round? Please!'
'Now, you mean?'

'They wouldn't let you in. I've got to get my rest, apparently. It's enough to send me mad, except of course I'm mad already. Come tomorrow.'
'I don't know if it's "
'Please."
'Ali right, then. What time?" 'Come for lunch.' Til bring something.'
'Don't you dare. The kitchen's groaning with food. Everyone's making fucking soup. I know, bring that Todd of yours. It's
Saturday, after all.'
"Are you sure?'
'Don't you go treating me like an invalid too. I want to meet
him, see if he's good enough.'
'Don't '
'Don't what? Be rude to him? Me? Don't worry. The pills won't let me.'
I hadn't been going to say that. I'd been going to say, 'Don't steal him.'

We arrived at midday. Charlie opened the door and hugged me, then shook Todd firmly by the hand. He was wearing an apron and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. There were even more flowers, and get-well cards everywhere, and the Christmas-tree lights were turned on. The house smelt of fresh paint.
I'd expected Holly to be in bed, but she was sitting on the sofa, dressed in old jeans and a flecked, turtle-neck jumper whose sleeves came down over her hands. Her hair was in plaits, and her face bare of makeup. She looked about twelve, and very pale, fragile and sweet. She made me feel huge and clumsy, and I bent down to kiss her cheek carefully. But she put both arms round me and hugged me hard. 'I won't break, you know,' she said. 'I'm a tough old bird.'

She stood up and held out her hand to Todd. 'I think I was a bit rude when we met before,' she said, 'but I've been informed that was a symptom of mental illness. Can we start again?"
Td like that,' said Todd, taking her hand awkwardly. Im glad you're better.'
'It all feels a bit like a dream now. Especially since no one in this house mentions it.' She lowered her voice to a melodramatic whisper. "Dying, I mean. Trying to die. Or being manic-depressive, as a matter of fact. They just say, "your illness", or "what happened to you", stuff like that. That's why I so badly needed Meg to come round. You know what Meg's like, so...'
She searched for a word. I sat glumly on the chair opposite her and waited for her to say 'solid" or 'safe' or "comforting'.
'So true," said Holly, at last. 'We've got about twenty precious minutes before Charlie's mother comes back from the supermarket and my mother comes back from whatever mischief she's been up to. God, I wish Christmas was over. It would have been safer to let me stay in hospital until the New Year. Meg, why are you looking at me like that?'
'I'm trying to find new ways of asking how you are,' I said. "Don't worry,' said Holly. Im not going to try and kill myself again. Anyway, I don't want to talk about myself. I'm fed up with the subject. Tell me about the office. Give me some gossip. Anything.'
I had wanted to tell her about Rees, and about the end of her gambling debts, but now wasn't the time, not with Charlie in the kitchen and Todd looking awkward and willing opposite me, and Holly gabbling like a nervous child. I suddenly felt tired out.
We talked about trivial, lighthearted things. Then she asked me if I'd help her find a Christmas present for Charlie. "Though I can't think what to give him," she said. 'Charlie's the kind of man who doesn't want anything." Suddenly she seemed depressed. She turned to Todd. 'What would you give him?'

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