She hesitated, sorry now she’d mentioned her plan to visit Belle River. At some point, Harrison had transformed from ally to adversary. But when? Two doctors eyeing each other across a hostile no man’s land. To deflect the question, she busied herself with some papers of her own. ‘It was just a routine look around,’ she said, trying not to sound defensive. But she had no desire to describe her visit to the Stern family’s former home, or how she’d been so easily duped by the current owner.
Something odd about the space behind Harrison’s desk attracted her attention. The middle photo, the one with the largest snowy peak and diamond-bright sun, was missing. She looked round till she spotted it on the floor, leaning against the bookcase. In the corner, a cardboard box was filled with files.
‘Did you discover anything of note?’ He leaned heavily on his elbows, his forehead damp with sweat.
‘Not especially.’
In a show of vigour, Harrison hauled himself out of the chair and began to straighten a row of books on the shelf. But his agitation was apparent.
‘Well, it’s good to hear things are progressing,’ he said, stepping back to survey his handiwork. ‘And now that I’ve met Tim’s father, I feel more confident about the situation. He seems like a perfectly decent chap. And quite keen to give Tim a proper home.’
It was impossible to hide her surprise. Harrison hadn’t mentioned anything about a visit. Was there a reason for keeping her in the dark?
‘Mr Stern arrived yesterday, just after lunch,’ he said, answering the question on her lips and returning to his chair. ‘We spoke for nearly an hour, before I took him to see Tim in the dayroom, where I kept a watchful eye from the nurses’ station. We were all a bit on edge, considering it was the first time the two had seen each other since… well, in twenty-seven years.’
As her mind buzzed with questions, her fingers drifted to the scar by her collarbone, a clear sign of anxiety. What she wouldn’t give to have been a fly on the wall of the dayroom. The body language alone would have relayed a treasure trove of information. Her instinct was to pepper Harrison with questions, but she relaxed her grip on the armrests, reminding herself to breathe and tread slowly. An attendant rapped on the door.
‘Ah, your chariot awaits.’ Harrison’s smile looked strained. ‘Would you mind coming round again when you’ve finished your session?’
*
The shriek and clatter of the ward assaulted her eardrums. Doors clanged, keys jangled. The shrill buzzer that erupted each time a door opened seemed to have tripled in volume since her last visit. An attendant with a sour expression led her down the long dank corridor. Her skin felt clammy in the foetid air.
In his room, Tim sat upright in a plastic chair. Feet together, eyes front, as if waiting for a bus. He turned his head away as the attendant’s bulk filled the doorway.
‘Got a visitor, Timbo. Doc here to see you.’
A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘My name is Timothy.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Timothy. Whatever. But look sharp. Pretty lady wants to talk to you.’ As he leaned close, Erin stepped away. ‘We don’t get many women in here. Should perk the old boy right up.’
She waited until the attendant backed off before turning to Tim.
‘Hello, Timothy. Everything okay in here?’
His eyes flicked to the walls and the floor. ‘Do you see anyone?’
‘I don’t see anyone. Only you.’ She paused. ‘Do you see someone?’
He clenched and unclenched his hands, but said nothing.
‘There’s no one in this room but you, Timothy.’ She watched him carefully, wondering if this was the same type of delusion he’d had before when he claimed to have seen a strange man lying on his bed.
‘Nobody here.’ His breath came in gasps. ‘No one?’
Should she go ahead with her evaluation, or was Tim too upset to make sense of the tests? Her heart plummeted. There’d been too many delays already. She was hoping this would be her last trip to Greenlake.
‘Do you feel well enough to answer some questions? It won’t take long.’
He coughed and lumbered upright. ‘I’m ready now.’
Accompanied by a female attendant, they walked single file to the visitors’ room at the far end of the ward, with the dim light bulb and flaking paint. A feedback loop of her own incarceration scrolled through her head. The smells and noise. The noxious cloud of despair. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, terrified of being sucked back through the tunnel of time.
Inside the room, Tim turned away. She could see the tension in his shoulders as he sidestepped to the window, shielding his eyes. The sun shone on the scraggy fields and abandoned factory, glancing off the cracked windows. The coils of razor wire splintered the light into tiny shards.
She perched on the edge of the chair. ‘Why did you think someone was in your room?’
He leaned his forehead against the window and muttered something under his breath.
‘Was it the same man as before, the one you saw lying on your bed?’
‘No.’ He dragged his sleeve across his face. ‘It was nobody.’
She would like to ask him about his father’s visit – how it went, what he thought – but that might set off another spasm of panic, a repeat of the lunch fiasco when she’d alluded to Belle River. Only four weeks ago it was, though it seemed like years. Time had contracted to a thin, treacherous stream.
‘Okay then, Timothy. I’m going to ask you a few questions and show you a couple of pictures. It won’t take long and then we’ll be done.’
‘My father was here.’ He rotated away from the window, pulling his head tortoise-like into his hunched shoulders. ‘He gave me a sweatshirt, but I left it in
