Under His Influence

“Yes, that’s another thing. What on earth qualifies him to indulge in this weird science? He isn’t a scientist.”

“Didn’t he study science at university?”

“No. Philosophy, politics and economics. I don’t know where all this ozone machine nonsense is coming from. It’s so uncharacteristic.”

“You think it’s…an eccentricity?”

“I think it’s madness.” Caro paused significantly. “Literally, perhaps.”

“You think he’s having a breakdown?”

“I’m very worried, Anna. The nonstop activity—he wasn’t like that before Saskia died. It sounds almost like a phase of bipolar disorder.”

“You’re saying he’s mentally ill?”

“I’m saying I think he needs to see somebody. And I’d like you to suggest it to him, if you can. Gently, of course. He has his pride—at least that much hasn’t changed.”

“He won’t listen to me,” Anna blurted. “He thinks I’m having an affair.”

Caro put the cup down and stared.

“But you aren’t?”

“No, I would never!”

“Paranoia,” she asserted. “You must see that he isn’t well. Anna, we have to help him.”

Anna nodded miserably, then poured another cup, allowing Caro to regale her for the next hour with tales of John’s boyhood and adolescence, painting a picture of a person she did not recognise in the slightest.

The sound of the door banging open and angry shouting from the hallway halted Caro midanecdote.

“Anna! Anna! Where are you?”

Within seconds, he stood on the threshold, leaning up against the doorjamb, out of breath, skin flushed with choler.

“Sister,” he snarled.

“John. Is Anna not to receive visitors? Do you want to wall her up alive until the child is born? Oh, and congratulations, by the way. One might have thought your own sister was worthy of confidence—”

“We were waiting until the end of the first trimester. Thanks for calling. Goodbye.” He waved his hand towards the exit, unmistakably throwing his sister out of the house.

“What has happened to you?” Caroline rose and approached him, showing no sign of intimidation except the nervous fingers clicking her pearls together round her neck. “Where is my brother? Where are you, John? Please let us help you.”

“Help me by leaving us alone.” He roared the last three words so that Caro jumped and scuttled past him, out to the hall.

“This isn’t right,” she called back, once safely out of his range. “I won’t let this rest, you know. You’re ill and you need help. Please see a doctor, John.”

“Luana!” John bellowed in reply, and the housekeeper glided out from the room next door before the echoes had died. “Show my sister out, please.”

Anna shrank back in the wicker chair, hugging her arms to her stomach, as if she feared assault, watching her husband stalk towards her. A tiger could not have been less terrifying to her.

“S-she’s your sister,” she stammered, tears springing to her eyes. “You’re frightening me, John. Please.”

“My sister,” intoned John, looming over his wide-eyed wife, “is a liar. And a fantasist. Got that?”

“She…made a lot of sense to me. John, do you think…?”

“I think nobody is permitted inside this house without my knowledge. Not my sister. Not your lovers.”