He starts pacing again. It’s rhythmic; three steps to the right, stop and turn, four steps to the left, then stop.
“Why didn’t you call somebody? Why did you go there alone? If something had happened to you...”
Tears start to pool in my eyes. Even though I swallow hard, they start to overflow, because something did happen today. I found my friend lying in a pool of her own vomit and blood, almost dead on her bed. I got to see the bruises and the cuts and the track marks and I can’t get it out of my head. Even thinking about the way she smelled when I got close—a horrific mixture of vomit and excrement—makes me want to hurl.
I start to shiver when I think of another death, so many years ago. The way Digby collapsed. How we were responsible. It all comes flooding back; the guilt, the memories, the unshakeable pain.
“Don’t turn on the fucking waterworks with me.”
My eyes widen as I lift my head up to meet his angry stare. Simon hardly ever swears. I bite my lips in an effort to stifle any sobs. He’s starting to scare me, this angry, shouting Simon. It feels as though my blood is fizzing in my veins, all my muscles slackened and useless. Still the tears flow like hot rivulets down my cheeks; cooling at my chin.
“Simon, please.”
“Please what? Please can I go and put my life in danger again? For some bloody junkie who couldn’t give a damn about herself?”
“Daisy isn’t a junkie.” I know this is a lie. “She’s a friend. Somebody’s mother. She counts.”
She matters, of course she does. So did Digby. I owe him this.
“You count more.”
“I’ve taken drugs as well, you know.” There, I’ve said it. Brought up my own past before he can. I don’t know why I’ve decided to rehash it now.
“It’s not the same. You weren’t a junkie, you just experimented.” Though his tone is lower, his face is still an angry red. I know that when he’s in control of his words he can out-talk me every time. “I don’t want you seeing her again.”
What? I feel disbelief wash over me, almost stemming the tears. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m completely serious. She put you in danger. I don’t want you anywhere near her.”
“She didn’t put me in danger. I did that all by myself.” I’ve walked right into it. His lips twitch at my words.
“Then you need to choose your friends more wisely.”
“Since when did you decide to become my dad?”
“When you started to act like a child. You don’t seem to be thinking straight, Beth. You went to the worst tower block in London, walked up to the fourth floor and then broke into a junkie’s flat. Did you not think it through? What if her boyfriend had been there? What if he’d beaten you up, too? I could have lost you.”
Standing up, I throw my arms around him, burying my sobs in his shoulder. His stance is stiff, his muscles unyielding. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to know she was okay.”
He pushes me back. His hands grip my shoulders as he looks at me. “This is going to sound harsh but I really don’t care if your friend is all right. I do care if you’re okay, though. And you’re not okay. You haven’t been okay for weeks. If the clinic is making you feel like this, if it’s going to come between us and affect our relationship, then I want you to give it up.”
“It’s not the clinic that’s made me feel this way.”
“Then what is it?”
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I know I’ve been behaving differently—erratically sometimes. My mood has been swinging from high to low, and I know exactly why it is. It’s nothing I want to share with Simon, though.
It isn’t Niall Joseph’s fault he’s stirred everything up until I don’t know which way is up. Not his fault I’ve been digging up memories I’ve long since buried. The past is making me feel raw and open. A wound that refuses to heal.
“I don’t know. I’ve just been feeling down.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Because I can’t stop thinking about another man and it makes me the worst kind of person. “I can deal with it. I promise.”
“You don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m your husband, let me help you.”
I feel like his child again. Rather than accepting his dominance of me, I start to bristle. What once felt like protection now seems more like a prison.