‘You lovely,’ she says as she sits down beside me, handing me a bunch of grass. I can’t breathe, my heart is beating too fast. I’m having a panic attack; I need my pills. I take some deep breaths and press my nose to the grass. There’s nothing like a scent to bring you back to the present, or to waft you back to the past for that matter. Mental Sita’s mother hovers and wobbles at her side and they both seem to be expecting a reaction from me, I don’t know what: a proclamation of undying love? A bended knee?

I get my breath back and wonder about eating the grass, chewing it up and spitting it out, but I haven’t got the energy for pranks like that any more. The Squeak wouldn’t even notice – she’s just found long haul vehicle and, full of the glory of her achievements, rises to her feet. ‘It’s time for your scan, Connie,’ she says, shark smile intact for Mental Sita’s mum. ‘Connie’s got to go in now, Sita,’ she says to Mental Sita in a strange sweet voice, as if she’s talking to the baby Jesus, not a serial nutjob who killed ten cats with her bare hands. They both nod in response. I wish I had my mother to nod with. Then the three of us watch as Mental Sita leaps off the bench and runs towards the trees for a gambol in the leaves. I wonder whether her mother knows what a voracious onanist her daughter is.

Not long after, all of us, my new motley crew and I, head back inside.

Chapter 15

Do you feel like a god, Dr. R? Healing the sick, easing the pain, dispensing your medicines with a scrawl of your pen? Or do you just feel like a glorified drug dealer (with a shitter car)?

They both promised it was over. Ness sent me pleading texts which I ignored. It’ll never happen again. Please forgive me. I can’t bear it. I didn’t respond. I wanted her to suffer. Actually, I tell a lie, I sent her one text: Fuck off, cunt. I was so angry. In some ways I found the Weasel easier to understand than her. I felt partly culpable for his behaviour. It had been a joint decision (or had it?) to go off the beaten track in our marriage; I was responsible in some way for his needing to feel attractive and due to the fact that he was fundamentally lazy, he had barely looked further than his own front door. But Ness? No, she’d known how things were, she’d milked my weaknesses; she’d manipulated events to her own advantage.