Dark Room

absorption. 'Did the psychiatrist at Queen Mary's Hospital help you at all, Jinx?'

'You mean the second one, Stephanie Fellowes?'

'Yes.'

She seemed to find her position uncomfortable and unlocked her arms to reach for the inevitable cigarette. 'When am I going to be allowed outside?' she demanded suddenly, flicking the lighter to the tip and eyeing him through the smoke.

'The sooner the better. We could go now if you like. I've a pretty good arm for leaning on and we can find ourselves a bench away from the madding crowd.'

She smiled faintly. 'No, thank you. I'll wait till I can manage it alone.' She nodded towards her bathroom door. 'I've been to the loo a couple of times and had to crawl most of the way, so I'll practice in private for a bit. I'm not particularly keen to have you laugh at me.'

'Why would I want to do that?'

She shrugged. 'Not in front of me, perhaps, but I'm sure you could work it up into a good story for the golf club.' She mimicked his lower register. ' 'I say, chaps, have I told you the one about my pet hysteric who drove her car at a concrete pillar, survived by a miracle, then fell flat on her face when she tried to stand up?' '

'Do you always ascribe such base motives to the people who care for you?'

'Stephanie Fellowes certainly thought so.' But then I didn't trust her. She blew smoke rings into the air. 'You see, I'm not a willing guinea pig. I'd rather live with all my fears, depressions, and obsessions than have clumsy people in hobnailed boots trampling about in my head.' She smiled without hostility. 'I presume she or my father has told you that I became so depressed I was starving myself?' She looked at him inquiringly and he nodded. 'Which one, as a matter of interest? Stephanie or Adam?'

He showed no hesitation about answering. 'Both. Stephanie sent me a copy of the notes she took at the time. Your father told me when you first came here.'

'Have you met him?'

'No. We spoke on the telephone.'

She nodded. 'That's how he does business. Technology, particularly the impersonal fax, was invented for Adam. He knows how intimidating it is to deal with someone you never meet. I'd keep it that way if I were you.'

'Why?'

'No particular reason.'

'He seemed pleasant enough, and he's very concerned for you.'

She smiled to herself, and he wondered if she realized how provocative that smile was. As a character she was fascinating to him. She was determined to wean him away from her father-but in the most subtle of fashions- through innuendo rather than fact, sympathy rather than honesty. And he knew he wasn't immune. There was something infinitely appealing about the combination of incisive intellect and physical weakness. Particularly for him, although she couldn't know that.

'So concerned that he hasn't been near me,' she pointed out.

'Then phone him and find out why not,' he suggested.

She shook her head. 'Adam and I never ask each other personal questions. Dr. Protheroe.'

'Yet you always call him Adam. I assumed that meant you saw each other as equals.'

But that was clearly something she didn't want to discuss. 'We were talking about my alleged depression,' she said abruptly. '' 'Alleged' being the operative word.'

He abandoned the subject. 'You wanted to know whether it was Stephanie or Adam who told me you became so depressed that you were starving yourself,' he reminded her, 'and I said they both had. Shall we go on from there?'

'It happened the other way round. The depression developed because I wasn't eating, so when they took me into hospital and started feeding me I began to feel better.'

He thought it more likely that her improvement was due to antidepressants, but he had no intention of arguing about it. 'Do you know why you weren't eating?'

'Yes.'

He waited for a moment. 'Are you going to tell me?'

'Maybe. If you tell me what Stephanie put in her notes.'

She would be satisfied with nothing less than the truth, he thought, although whether she would believe that what he told her was the truth was another matter altogether. 'The notes are in my office,' he said, 'so I can't quote her verbatim but I can give you the gist of what she wrote. You were admitted with severe reactive depression, following the murder of your husband and the loss of your baby. Your symptoms were extreme-in particular, loss of appetite and persistent insomnia. It was clear to Dr. Fellowes that you were very disturbed and that your malnutrition was due not so much to a loss of appetite as a refusal to eat, and she diagnosed you a potential suicide. Your treatment consisted of a combination of drug and psychotherapy and, while she admits that you were extremely hostile to the psychotherapy, your condition began to improve quite markedly after three to four weeks. As far as I recall, you were discharged fit after six weeks, and although you have consistently refused to have your progress monitored at outpatient attendances, Dr. Fellowes regards you as one of her successes.' He paused briefly. 'Or she did until I requested your notes.'

Jinx frowned. 'I hadn't realized she thought I was doing it deliberately.' She took a thoughtful puff of her cigarette. 'It explains why you're all assuming suicide now. Pardus maculas non deponit. The leopard doesn't change his spots,' she translated idly, her good eye drifting towards the window where a man was wandering across the lawn. Fair hair, green sweater, brown cords. For the fraction of a second she thought it was Leo, and her heart lurched violently.

'If you weren't starving yourself for a reason, then why were you doing it?'