The screeching drone in her head twisted its volume to piercing and painful, starting up from nothing, surging to everything like waves of feedback so high-pitched that she bent at the waist, clutched at her ears, screwed up her eyes against it. She managed to shut the door and half fell onto the couch next to Patrick, who put his arm around her. Deep breaths, she told herself. Try to stay present. Beige carpet, she thought, blue couch. Black jogging bottoms. She relaxed slightly, uncurled, and as she held onto him the drone faded away. They fitted together so perfectly, like they always had; they were just the right shape. His warmth, his skin and his smell.

“You’re shaking, darling,” said Patrick. “Don’t worry. It’s OK now. Shh. Just the way the shadows fell, made you think it was a woman out there. There’s nothing to be afraid of. When the doctor explained it to me he said that if you were tired enough, your brain starts to dream even though you’re awake. That’s why it seems so like a nightmare; because it really is one.”

“I called the police. They’re on the way.”

“You did what? Why?”

He really hadn’t seen it. Seen her, the woman from the hospital, the woman in the bushes. But Lauren had, solid and real as the trees themselves; the eyes still glared at her when she closed her own, the image burned there like she’d looked at the sun too long. She was going mad, she must be. That or the woman was some kind of witch, some kind of demon who could disappear at will. And that was not possible, which meant she was back around at mad again. Just a shadow. Jumping at shadows. She really needed to get some sleep.

“I don’t know,” she said, “I thought it was the best thing to do. I’m sorry.”

Patrick squeezed her tightly. “Don’t worry. We’ll just wait until they arrive and tell them there’s nothing to concern them. It’ll be fine.”

She lifted her face away from his chest.

“Patrick.”

“Yes, my love?”

“You have to help me.”

He blew out a long sigh that held exhaustion, reluctance and resignation, but he said, “Yes, darling, I know. I will, don’t worry. You’re safe now, I’ll keep you safe.”

She slid down into the comfort of his words and pretended they could be true.

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I’m so sorry for wasting your time like this, Detective,” said Patrick. “My wife’s been under a lot of pressure, caring for the boys. Newborn babies, you know, and they’re twins. She just needs some rest.”