Caught in the Web - Chapter 46

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Chapter Forty-six

The day passed slowly. Each minute seemed to drag into an hour.

Karen knew she needed to keep one step ahead. Peter wouldn’t let her go anywhere without him, so she tried to keep busy in the house. She pottered about in the kitchen, tidying the cupboards and thinking about what her next move could possibly be to get out of this mess.

She cooked spaghetti for their evening meal and only drank what she had prepared herself. Peter hovered in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her, occasionally wandering into the lounge to sit for a while before coming back again. Karen lifted the pasta pot from the stove to drain the water into the sink.

‘I’ll do that,’ he said, trying to take the pot from her.

She pulled away. ‘I’m alright,’ she said. ‘I’m already doing it.’

‘Fine. Be independent.’ He walked back into the lounge.

Karen could hear him pacing the floor.

‘You could lay the table,’ she called through the doorway. No answer.

She was feeling more and more unsettled and still had no idea as to how she was going to get out of this mess. The kitchen windows were steamed up. A mild hope that maybe she’d been mistaken made her try the kitchen door. It was still locked.

‘Can’t you come and open the kitchen door,’ she called. ‘Let some fresh air in.’

Still no answer.

She looked into the lounge. ‘Did you hear me?’ she asked.

‘Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you.’ Peter was slouched on the far end of the sofa, glowering at her.

‘It’s hot and stuffy out there. Surely you don’t really think you can keep me locked in here for ever.’ She paused. ‘Peter - I’m fed up with this. Please come and open the back door.’ She stood and waited.

Peter looked up.

‘Just get the dinner on the table and stop whinging,’ he said.

Karen returned to the kitchen with a shake of her head. She took a breath and dished up the pasta on to the two plates. She stirred the bolognese mixture, wondering vaguely whether she could play Peter at his own game and slip something into his portion. She shook off the thought, knowing that it would never work. She didn’t even know where he was keeping her tablets and doubted that it would be easy to find them.

Her mind was numb. The thought of getting out of this was impossible to imagine. She felt the tears rising again and dashed them away.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she told herself as she spooned the mixture onto each pile of pasta. Karen gathered her courage and carried the plates of food through to the lounge.

The table was still cluttered with Peter’s books and a pile of old newspapers. She put the plates on the table and piled the books and papers to one side.

‘Careful with my books,’ Peter snapped. ‘They cost a lot of money.’

‘Sorry,’ Karen said through her teeth. She looked up and smiled. ‘It’s ready. We just need the cutlery.’ She sat down and waited for him to move.

Peter stood and walked to the table. ‘I’ll get it then, shall I?’ he asked, hesitating at the doorway. He glared at her, then disappeared into the kitchen. She heard him clattering in the cutlery drawer. When he returned he handed her a spoon and fork with a smile.

‘Don’t trust me alone with your food, eh?’ He laughed. ‘How long are you going to keep this up for?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Karen answered. She looked at him. ‘I just want to get back to normal, that’s all. I keep telling you, I am not ill.’

‘Well you can’t keep it up forever, you know,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to go to sleep sometime.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ Karen frowned.

‘What I mean is you can’t be on your guard all the time. Once you’re asleep, I can do anything to you. Anything I like.’

Karen glared at him.

‘You can’t keep me prisoner for ever,’ she retorted.

‘I’m not keeping you prisoner,’ he said.

‘Why have you changed the locks? And why haven’t you given me a key?’

‘I changed the locks because they needed doing and the reason I haven’t given you a key is because you haven’t needed one yet. It’s as simple as that. Nothing treacherous about it at all. It’s all in your imagination. All of this is in your head.’

‘What did you mean, you can do anything you like to me when I’m asleep? I didn’t imagine that.’

Peter laughed.

‘Why are you laughing?’ Karen asked. ‘OK, if it’s all in my imagination, give me the keys now.’

‘I haven’t got the spare keys yet,’ he replied calmly. ‘They only gave me one key for each lock and I need the keys to go to work. As soon as I can I’ll get some cut for you, don’t you worry.’

Karen’s hopes lifted a little. ‘Are you going to work tomorrow, then?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know what I’m doing yet,’ he said. ‘I could stay home all week but I may go in for a meeting in the morning.’

‘Why can’t I have the back door key, then?’ she asked. ‘You don’t need two keys.’

‘I may decide not to go in yet,’ he replied. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning.’

Karen’s mind was racing. This could be the chance she needed to get away. As if reading her thoughts, Peter leaned towards her across the table.

‘We’ll have to see how you are tomorrow,’ he said. ‘And how well you do tonight in bed.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Karen asked.

‘Sleeping of course,’ he sneered. ‘What did you think I meant?’

He picked up his fork and began winding it in the spaghetti. He guided the sticky mass towards his mouth.

Karen watched him from the corner of her eye and shuddered inside as a long strand draped on his chin, leaving a faint trail of red sauce in its wake as he sucked it in.

Caught in the Web Chapter 45

Chapter Forty-five

Peter turned back into the lounge and stood facing Karen.

‘Well I hope you’re satisfied. Making my own mother turn against me,’ he accused.

‘Don’t be silly,’ Karen began. But Peter cut her short.

‘Don’t tell me not to be silly!’ he shouted. ‘Don’t you ever do that to me again.’

‘What exactly have I done?’

‘You know what. You’ve been sitting in here, making plans with my mother, secret plans.’ He paced the room. ‘Pushing me out in the cold. You’d do well to remember who you’re married to.’ He marched to the table, picked up the mug of untouched coffee and spun to face her. ‘And why haven’t you drank your coffee? I suppose you think I’m poisoning you.’

‘Of course I don’t. I just forgot,’ Karen said. ‘It’s cold now. I’ll make another one.’

She stood as she spoke and grabbed the cup from his hand before he could object, took it into the kitchen and tipped the contents into the sink. She filled the kettle and switched it on at the wall. Peter followed her.

‘I know your game,’ he said. ‘You think you can get my mother on your side, don’t you?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Karen said. ‘Margaret was being kind. She wants to help both of us. She’s worried about how things are.’ As soon as she spoke the words, Karen realised she’d made a mistake.

‘Worried about how things are?’ he asked. ‘What the hell have you been saying to her? Telling her lies about me, I suppose.’

‘No,’ Karen denied. ‘I haven’t told her anything. I wouldn’t dare.’ She felt sick. ‘Look Peter, I don’t know what’s happening to us, but things are getting worse aren’t they? Between us, I mean.’

‘What are you saying?’ He sounded more angry now. ‘Do you want a divorce? I can make your life a misery if you try and divorce me. You wouldn’t be able to manage without me. No money, no home, nothing.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’ Karen could feel the terror rising. ‘I just can’t see a way forward, that’s all.’

‘I’ll tell you the way forward,’ he said. ‘You stop all this nonsense about working at the hospital and get rid of that baby. Then we can make a fresh start.’ He paused. ‘If you really loved me, that’s what you’d do.’

‘I don’t understand. One minute you want me to keep the baby and the next you don’t. What do you want?’

‘I’ve told you enough times. I want you to be a good wife. Show me you care about this marriage. Stop living in a fantasy world.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Thinking you can have a career in that place. Believing I can bring up a child that’s not even mine.’ He paused. ‘Just get yourself sorted and get back to how you used to be!’

‘I can’t do that,’ said Karen. ‘Even if I gave up my job, I couldn’t give up the baby. It’s a part of me now, surely you can understand that. I know it must be very hard for you, but I just hoped that once you saw the baby you might change your mind.’

‘I’ll never change my mind. So you’ll have to change yours.’

‘I can’t,’ said Karen. ‘This is my own flesh and blood.’

‘Your flesh and blood, but not mine!’

‘I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.’

‘We’ll see about that.’ Peter gripped her wrist and pulled her to face him. She could smell the coffee on his bitter breath. ‘You’re still my wife,’ he spat, twisting her wrist and forcing her against the sink unit. She felt the cold of the metal on her back.

Peter glared at her a moment longer. As he turned and walked away, Karen felt a flutter in her belly. She placed her hands on the swelling of her womb. A feeling of love surged in her heart as she became conscious that it was her baby stirring.

Caught in the Web - Chapter 44

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Chapter Forty-four

Karen leaned back from the table, slipped the letter into the envelope and sealed it with a flourish.

‘There,’ she said. ‘All done. Now we just have to wait I suppose.’

Margaret lit a cigarette and took a long drag on it, exhaling the smoke slowly before she spoke.

‘I hope something good comes of this.’ She looked towards the door. Peter had kept his word and left them alone. She lowered her voice. ‘Are you sure everything’s alright with you?’ she asked.

Karen swallowed, hesitating to speak. The walls were too thin to give her the confidence to talk freely. ‘Not really but I can’t talk now,’ she whispered.

‘You have to tell me if there’s something wrong,’ Margaret insisted. ‘Look, Karen, I may be able to help you but you must tell me.’

‘You won’t believe me.’ Karen looked out of the window. The garden was still damp with rain - heavy clouds hung over the rooftops.

‘Try me.’ The ash on the end of Margaret’s cigarette fell onto the table. She swept it away with the back of her hand. She looked at Karen, waiting for the her to speak.

Karen stood up and walked into the hall. She stood at the foot of the stairs for a moment, listening, then came back in, carefully closing the door behind her.

She let out a sigh before speaking. ‘He’s changed the locks on the doors and I haven’t got a key.’

Margaret looked shocked. ‘Surely he’s got a key for you,’ she said.

‘No, he hasn’t.’

‘Perhaps he’s just waiting for you to be up and about on your feet.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Karen said.

‘He’s probably just forgotten to give it to you,’ Margaret reasoned.

‘Why would he change the locks?’ Karen asked.

‘I’ll speak to him,’ Margaret suggested.

‘No! Please don’t do that,’ Karen blurted. ‘It won’t help. Please don’t say anything. I’ll get through this somehow.’

‘If you’re sure.’ Margaret wasn’t convinced.

‘He’s been giving me drugs. In my food, I think,’ Karen went on.

‘Now you are really being silly,’ Margaret bristled. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t do such a thing.’

‘It’s true,’ Karen said. ‘Why do you think I’ve been sleeping so much?’

‘You need to rest,’ Margaret said. ‘The tablets the doctor gave you. They help you to sleep.’

‘That’s just it,’ Karen explained. ‘I haven’t taken any of them yet. Not knowingly that is.’

‘I’m sure you have. You’ve just forgotten. You’ve been in a bit of a state.’ Margaret stubbed out her cigarette and stood up.

‘I knew you wouldn’t believe me,’ Karen said. She was desperately wondering how she could convince Margaret.

‘I want to believe you. Of course I do,’ Margaret said. ‘But you haven’t been yourself lately.’

‘I don’t know what else I can do to make you believe me,’ Karen said. She heard a door upstairs banging. ‘Please, don’t talk about it any more. He’ll hear us.’

Margaret sighed. ‘If that’s what you want.’

Peter was clattering down the stairs, as if on cue. The door opened.

‘Have you two finished yet? Because I’m getting bored with being banished to the bedroom.’

‘All done,’ said Karen.

‘Why was the door shut?’ he asked. He looked from one to the other.

Karen shrugged.

‘We never close that door,’ he said. ‘Have you two been talking about me?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Margaret said.

‘What do you expect?’ Peter said. ‘You send me upstairs, tell me you want to have time alone without me, then you close the door so I can’t hear what you’re getting up to.’

‘It was nothing,’ Margaret insisted.

‘Fine.’ Peter glanced at the papers on the table. ‘Have you written the letter, then?’ he asked. ‘Can I read it?’

‘Oh. I’ve sealed the envelope now,’ Karen said. ‘Margaret’s posting it on her way home.’

‘Fine.’ He smiled.

Karen could feel the anger emanating from every pore in his body. ‘Not fine,’ she thought.

‘I should get back home, I suppose.’ Margaret pulled on her coat. She turned to Karen. ‘I’ll pop in tomorrow morning.’

‘What for?’ Peter asked. ‘Checking up on us again?’

‘I care about you both,’ Margaret said. ‘I don’t want to intrude...’ She hesitated.

‘I might take Karen out tomorrow,’ Peter said. ‘She could do with some fresh air.’

Karen seethed. ‘Stop making plans for me Peter,’ she snapped.

He turned to her, a pained look on his face. ‘Don’t you want to go out with me?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know what I’ll want to do tomorrow yet,’ she said. ‘That’s not the point. I have got a mind of my own, you know. It would be nice if you talked to me about things before making decisions for me.’

‘Sorry,’ he laughed. ‘Pardon me for trying to help.’

‘Well, I’m off then,’ interrupted Margaret. She glanced at Peter then turned to Karen. ‘You’ll be alright?’

‘Of course I will.’ Karen smiled.

Margaret hugged Karen and kissed Peter on the cheek, then turned to leave.

As she reached the front door Karen noticed her glance up at the new lock. Karen was sure she was biting back the questions which were on the tip of her tongue as she smiled and allowed Peter to let her out into the street.

‘Bye, Darling,’ she said to him but the door was already closing on her. Karen watched through the window as Margaret turned and made her way along the street, pulling her coat collar up as she went.

Caught in the Web - Chapter 43

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Chapter Forty-three

A faint drumming sound competed with the thumping of the blood pumping through her head. Karen opened her eyes. The light in the room was grey - washed out. The air was stale, thick and hot as she struggled to sit up. It seemed that her head was too heavy to lift from the pillow. She was in her bed but memories of recent events were blurred. And what was that drumming sound - getting louder as she became more alert? The rain. Rain thundering against the roof and hammering on the window-pane, forcing Karen to remember that she was trapped in a nightmare.

The peace of forgetfulness was swept away as reality hit her hard in the stomach, twisting and churning the fear back into its place.

She listened. Craned her neck to hear whether she was alone in the house. She glanced at the clock wondering whether it was morning or evening. Neither. It was nearly midday.

She couldn’t work out how long she’d been asleep. The dreams had been many, she sensed but all had shifted out of reach as soon as she’d woken. Listening again she could hear the sound of someone moving about in the kitchen. Peter, she guessed.

The thud of the door knocker lifted her spirits. She struggled out of bed and stumbled to the window. She could just see the top of a man’s head. Dr. Wright.

Karen made her way to the bedroom door and opened it. She knew she had to make a good impression on him. This could be the way out for her. But as she reached to top of the stairs she saw Peter standing in the hall below. He was standing quietly, making no attempt to open the door. Karen froze, then crept back along the passageway and let herself back into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind her. She went to the window, now wide awake and lifting the net curtains, tapped on the glass, hoping that she could attract the doctor’s attention without Peter hearing from below.

Dr. Wright knocked on the door again but didn’t look up. The noise of the storm was too much. Karen banged on the window, louder this time, praying that he would hear. He turned to walk away.

Karen knocked again and screamed out in panic, ‘Doctor, please, I’m up here! Please look up!’ She sobbed in frustration as he continued walking down the street, the rain dripping from his sleek, black hair.

‘Karen, you’re awake.’ Peter stood watching her from the doorway.

‘That was Dr. Wright at the door,’ Karen sobbed. ‘Why didn’t you let him in?’

‘Was it? I didn’t hear anything. Are you sure you weren’t dreaming it?’

‘I saw him. From the window.’ She stared at him. ‘What are you trying to do?’

‘I’m just trying to look after you.’ He smiled. ‘Now come on, back to bed with you.’

He took her arm and steered her towards the bed. She sat on the edge knowing that the best thing to do would be to go along with what he wanted. She was locked in the house and he had the only keys.

She felt so tired.

‘Just stay there and rest,’ he was saying. ‘I’ll be downstairs if you want anything. Now be sure you call me.’ He left her alone again.

Karen’s thoughts raced. She could hear him moving about downstairs and wondered what he was doing and what her next move could be. It seemed so hopeless.

She was still wondering how to get out of this mess when she heard the front door again. Hoping that it was the doctor coming back she pulled herself up from the bed and across the floor to the window. She craned her neck to see who it was. Margaret.

‘Thank God,’ she thought, banging on the window furiously. Something made Margaret look up. Karen waved in desperation.

‘Please,’ she mouthed. ‘Make Peter let you in.’

Margaret turned back to the door and knocked again. She was shouting through the door at Peter.

‘Will you let me in?’ she called. ‘Peter. It’s Mum. Let me in - please.’

Karen moved to the bedroom door and went out into the hallway. She stood at the top of the stairs, watching Peter below.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked. ‘Stop Margaret from coming in too? You can’t keep me a prisoner for ever, you know.’

‘I’m not keeping you a prisoner,’ he spat back. ‘I am letting her in, you silly girl.’ He went to the door, took the key from his pocket and turned it in the lock.

Margaret pushed past Peter and rushed towards Karen who had made her way down the stairs. She took Karen’s hands and looked into her face.

‘Are you alright?’ she asked then turned to Peter without waiting for an answer. ‘What on earth is going on?’ She glared at him, waiting for an answer.

‘Nothing’s going on,’ Peter said at last. ‘Karen’s not been well and I’ve been looking after her, that’s all.’

Margaret looked back at Karen. ‘Well?’ she asked again.

Tears were filling Karen’s eyes. She stood, unable to say anything whilst Peter was there, watching her. ‘I’m alright,’ she said finally.

Margaret gave her a long hard look and sighed. She let go of Karen and began peeling off her coat. She turned to Peter.

‘Well are you going to ask me in properly?’ she asked. ‘What about making me a coffee?’

‘Come into the lounge,’ Karen said, leading the way into the front room.

Peter stood for a while, then went into the kitchen to make the coffee.

Karen and Margaret sat together on the sofa, alone for a few precious moments.

‘Now, Karen,’ said Margaret quietly. ‘How are you really?’

Karen glanced towards the door leading into the hall. ‘I’m alright,’ she whispered. ‘But Peter’s making me out to be an invalid. He won’t listen to me when I say I’m OK. I am OK - really.’

Margaret sighed.

‘You don’t believe me either.’ Karen’s heart dipped.

‘I do,’ Margaret assured her. She went on quickly. ‘Listen Karen, I came round to talk to you about finding your real mother but maybe it’s not the right time to talk about it.’ She looked towards the door.

‘You don’t think Peter will approve.’

‘You seem to have enough on your plate at the moment,’ said Margaret. ‘What with this baby and everything.’

Before Karen could answer, Peter was back with three steaming mugs of coffee on a tray.

‘There you are Mum.’ He handed Margaret a mug.

‘Thank you.’ She took the mug and sipped the coffee.

He handed a mug to Karen. ‘Here you are darling,’ he smiled at her.

Karen hesitated, then she took the mug from him and held it in her hands.

Peter sat back in the armchair. ‘What have you two been talking about,’ he asked.

Margaret looked at Karen, then back at him before speaking. She took a breath.

‘I’ve been trying to find out about Karen’s real mother,’ she said. ‘I went to the Social Workers in Fareham.' She looked at Karen. ‘They weren’t very helpful really but I found out that if you write to them they’ll be able to give you all the information they have on file. They may not have much more than we already know, so it’s best not to get your hopes up too much.’

She looked back at Peter. He was glaring at her.

‘I hope you have no objections to this, Peter? I think it will help Karen through this - difficult time.’

‘I have no objections,’ Peter said. ‘Why should I object? I don’t know why you think I would.’ He smiled sweetly at her.

‘Good,’ said Margaret. She turned back to Karen. ‘Would you like me to help you with the letter?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Karen faltered. ‘I mean, I don’t know what I want any more.’

It was the sneer on Peter’s face that made up her mind.

‘OK. Yes, I would like that,’ she said. She looked at Peter. ‘If you don’t mind?’ She was hoping that he’d leave them alone to work on the letter together, giving her precious time with Margaret without him breathing down her neck.

‘Like I said, why should I mind?’ he repeated.

‘Aren’t you going to work today?’ Margaret asked. ‘I could sit with Karen. Keep her company.’

Karen felt the anger rising again. ‘I don’t need looking after. And please stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here! I am not an invalid, or stupid!’

‘No of course you’re not,’ said Margaret. She looked at Peter. ‘So you don’t need to stay here. Perhaps you should get off to work.’

‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ he laughed.

‘No. But I would like some time alone with Karen.’

‘Well, for your information, I’m not going to work this week,’ he said. ‘I’ve taken some time off so I won’t be going far.’ He got up. ‘But I know when I’m in the way. I’ll be upstairs if you want me.’

Peter was half way up the stairs before he called down as an afterthought, ‘Just remember whose mother you are.’

Chapter 42 - Caught in the Web

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Chapter Forty-two

Peter waited until he was sure Karen was fast asleep before he moved. Finally he stood up and gathered up the remnants of her breakfast, taking the tray back downstairs into the kitchen. He carefully washed up the mug and plate and set them on the draining board to dry.

Smiling to himself, he slipped on his light summer jacket and checked in the pockets for his door keys. He ran up the stairs, looking into the bedroom once more. Karen was still asleep as he closed the door gently behind him. He hesitated, wondering if he should have put a bolt on the outside of the door, then shrugged to himself.

‘She won’t be going far,’ he thought. ‘That’s a job for later on.’

Still, he left the house as quietly as he could, making sure that the front door didn’t slam behind him, holding the key in the lock as he closed it. He soon reached the phone box and dialled the number for the hospital ward that Karen had left on the pad in the kitchen.

‘It’s Peter Edwards here,’ he said as soon as he was put through to the ward. ‘I’m ringing to let you know how Karen is.’

‘Oh, thanks for ringing,’ said the male nurse who answered. ‘This is Mike, the Charge Nurse, speaking. I was going to drop by and see how she was.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Peter bristled.

‘When will she be coming back to work? Any idea how long?’

‘She won’t be back for another week, at least,’ said Peter. ‘The doctor has said she shouldn’t be working in that sort of place until she’s well.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Mike. ‘What’s the matter with her?’

‘I’m afraid she’s having a bit of a breakdown. I think working there has made her ill, actually.’

‘Really?’ Mike remarked. ‘I’m surprised at that. Karen seems such a steady kind of a person.’

‘Well, you don’t know her then, do you?’ Peter was feeling slightly annoyed at this man who thought he knew Karen.

‘Maybe not,’ Mike said. ‘I only know that she’s a good nurse. She’s reliable and has a good head on her shoulders.’

‘And I’m telling you that she’s ill, OK?’

‘Yeah, alright mate,’ said Mike. ‘Tell her we’re all thinking of her, won’t you?’

‘Of course. Goodbye then.’

‘Get her to ring in when she’s better,’ Mike said.

Peter hung up without replying. ‘You’ve got to be joking,’ he said to himself as he dialled the number for the doctor’s surgery.

‘It’s Peter Edwards here. I need to see Dr. Wright,’ he said firmly. ‘He said I could come in if things got worse with my wife.’

The receptionist asked him to hold the line. He waited.

‘Hello Mr. Edwards.’ The receptionist’s voice was soon back. ‘That’s fine. Dr. Wright will see you in half an hour at the end of surgery if you’d like to come in then.’

Peter put the phone down and stepped outside the booth. He lit a cigarette and walked in the sunshine towards the surgery.

‘What a lovely day,’ he thought, pleased that all was going well.

Soon he was sitting in front of Dr. Wright.

‘She’s getting worse Doctor.’ He frowned. ‘She accused me of trying to poison her, and came at me with a kitchen knife yesterday. I really don’t think she’s stable enough to have this baby.’ He paused. ‘I was thinking either a termination or maybe it would be best to take the baby away for adoption once it’s born.’

‘Are you absolutely sure? That seems rather, er, extreme.’ Dr. Wright sounded shocked. ‘Have you talked to your wife about this?’

‘Of course I have,’ said Peter. ‘She’s in full agreement with me that she’s not well enough to look after a baby at the moment.’ He looked around the room for inspiration. ‘The thing is,’ he went on, ‘she’s so weird at the moment, I don’t think she can remember what she’s said from one minute to the next. To be honest, Doctor, I believe she’s a danger to herself. She’s certainly a danger to me, and she would definitely not be able to care for a child.’ He paused. ‘I know having a baby is what we’ve always wanted - and it’s heart-breaking - but... I love my wife and her well-being must come first. I’m very worried about her.’

‘Well, she didn’t seem as bad as that when I saw her.’ Dr. Wright hesitated.

‘Take it from me, Doctor,’ Peter asserted. ‘She is bad, very bad. You know, I think that being pregnant may be making her worse. Tipping her over the edge, I mean.’

‘Perhaps I should call and see her again. It may be best to take her into hospital for a while.’

‘No!’ Peter’s voice was sharp. ‘I wouldn’t want her to go into a place like that. I can look after her at home.’ He stood up. ‘I should go. Don’t worry about it Doctor - I can manage.’

‘But it sounds like she needs more than you can offer,’ Dr. Wright said. ‘I will come and visit her again and see for myself what she’s like, if you don’t mind. Say tomorrow morning after surgery. Do you think you could manage until then?’

‘I really don’t think you need to come and visit at all,’ Peter blustered. He wondered whether he’d made the wrong move involving the doctor again so soon. The last thing he wanted was for Karen to be taken out of his care. He just wanted to make sure that the baby was dealt with as soon as possible. All he wanted was his old wife back and for things to carry on as before. That wasn’t too much to wish for, was it?

‘Look. I know it must be very difficult for you,’ Dr. Wright’s voice interrupted his thoughts. ‘No-one likes to admit that their loved-one may be mentally ill but the treatments these days are very good. Patients are often only in for a few weeks then with regular appointments with the psychiatrist many live full, normal lives again before long. Taking away your baby is a very drastic thing to do and probably totally unnecessary.’

‘You don’t understand.’

‘I understand that you’re very distressed and maybe not thinking very clearly.’

‘It’s alright, really,’ said Peter. ‘I shouldn’t have come.’

‘Well - I shall visit tomorrow morning. Your wife is my patient and my responsibility.’ He smiled. ‘After eleven then. Tell her to expect me.’

Peter shook his hand and left the room.

His head was reeling. ‘Now what?’ he thought.