So, the creepy woman was sly. She knew how to get past security, how to make sure she wasn’t seen by anyone. Therefore, Lauren should go home, where the woman would not think to look, and wouldn’t be able to come after her. That was the answer.

That’s if it was real. But the drugs, and the daylight, had created a distance, allowed her to look at what happened from both sides. It had seemed real, but really it couldn’t have been, because if it were then someone else would have seen the creepy woman. The singing would have woken Mrs Gooch, before the shouting did. Security was tight on the ward—the woman would have had to get herself buzzed through the locked doors, then walk right past the nurse on the desk. So it couldn’t be. But if it wasn’t real then it was inside her head and it would be there inside her head no matter where she went, wouldn’t it? And, at home, there were no blue pills.

Everything snapped into sharp focus. She gazed into Patrick’s worried face. “What if it happens again?” said Lauren, “What if I start seeing things, or …”

Patrick was shaking his head, making a shh sound, and he said, “Take each day as it comes. You can’t stay here until you’re sane. You won’t ever leave.”

The joke was delivered deadpan, as usual, and took a moment to register. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he waited for her to laugh. But she couldn’t, not this time. It was too close to the truth. Maybe they would keep her here until they thought she was sane. Perhaps she ought to leave now, while she still had the chance.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Harper sank into the swivel chair in her office and flipped her notebook open on the desk.

“Where the bloody hell have you been, Jo?”

She flipped the notebook shut again and turned to smile sweetly at Detective Inspector Thrupp, who filled the doorframe with his grey-suited form. His blue tie was askew, as usual. He tugged at it now, loosening it further—by the end of the day it was usually completely undone and flung over one shoulder like a very thin decorative scarf.

“Sorry, boss, just following up on a lead.”

“Phil Gregson says you came in at seven and left again at twenty past. Now it’s nine forty. I’ve been waiting.”

“That’s right, sir. There was a report overnight of an attempted child abduction at the hospital, so I went down to take a statement from the complainant.”

“What child abduction?”

“Turned out to be nothing really, sir. The woman was having some kind of psychotic episode.”

“Couldn’t the hospital have told you that? Wasn’t it marked as low priority on the system?”

“I thought it sounded odd, sir. Something a bit off, maybe. Worth a visit anyway, just to make sure.”

Thrupp was frowning. “I’ve told you before, Jo. You need to wait for my instructions before you go off interviewing people on a whim. There’s a pile of paperwork to get through, and no time to do it. Plus there’s the training session later on, which I trust you will be fully prepped for. You could have sent a uniform.”