May 2003

Chapter 37

Katherine

Katherine pulls the long sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt over her knuckles and concentrates on the sound of Ellie’s fingernails, the almost inaudible scratch-scratch as they brush up and down her palms. Some girls at the unit smirk if they witness Ellie’s anxious tic, but Katherine finds it strangely comforting, as though the simple melody of it anchors her, and makes her believe that everything will be okay. That Becca will survive, and the police will choose not to prosecute.

And that Ellie will be her friend forever.

Since the group therapy session when Ellie came to her rescue, the beautiful 17-year-old seemed to migrate wordlessly towards Katherine – pulling her chair close and glancing in Katherine’s direction every time she spoke, as though seeking her approval. Katherine couldn’t believe it, someone as beautiful as Ellie caring what she thought, but she kept her true feelings private – after what happened with Becca, she’s never admitting those again – and followed Ellie’s lead.

After the third group therapy session, when Katherine’s bandages had finally been removed, Ellie invited Katherine back to her room. Katherine had waited for Ellie to use the toilet adjacent to the therapy room (or that’s what she said, even though Katherine only heard the rush of the tap running), and then followed her up the stairs and along the first-floor corridor, all the way to the end. Ellie had sat on her perfectly made bed, and she’d curled up on the chair, and not quite facing each other, they’d talked.

Ellie had opened up about her brother Eddie, how he died on her bedroom floor, and how ashamed she felt when the police photos appeared in the local newspaper. She talked about how her anxiety disorder had spiralled after that, and that Dr Sharp had diagnosed mysophobia, a debilitating fear of germs. In return, Katherine had expanded on the tale she told in group therapy. And especially the devastating consequences when Becca rejected her.

They’re walking in the direction of Ellie’s room now, and Katherine wonders if it’s okay to assume she’s welcome there again, or if she still needs to wait for an invitation.

‘Do you want to come back to my room for a bit?’

Katherine’s shoulders relax and a smile creeps across her face. ‘Yes, thank you,’ she says, trying to sound casual while flickers of anticipation dance inside her belly. Katherine ticks off the noticeboard, fire extinguisher and crack in the plaster where some previous patient punched the wall before they reach Ellie’s room.