Beth stared through the windscreen as she drove through the dark streets. The lights were on in the pub, cars were already in the car park. They passed the shop where teenagers were hanging about outside, a young woman clutching a pizza in a box. Beth’s emotions were ricocheting off each other like steel balls in a pinball machine. ‘An overdose of pain killers’, that’s what William had said. Beth’s mind couldn’t help linking it to Kathleen. Had Imogen tried to commit suicide because she was guilty of Kathleen’s murder?
As Beth parked next to Sami, she remembered that the last time she came here was to visit the morgue, and shuddered.
Sami paid and put the tickets in both their cars. ‘I’ve put enough on for either of us to stay the night, but this way one of us can get away if we need to.’
They walked past weary looking relatives, into the brightly lit hospital.
Sami received a text and said, ‘William is coming down to meet us.’
Beth had been to a large hospital on the mainland to visit a friend and it had been like entering an airport, but there were fewer shops here. Tonight you could hear footsteps echoing on the tiles. The little shop run by the friends of the hospital was closed; there was no one on reception. Beth used the hand cleanser more as something to do than anything. Then she saw William coming towards them. He walked as if he was at home, briskly. ‘Thank you for coming. I didn’t know who to call. Elsa is up with her.’
They sat down on some uncomfortable plastic chairs. ‘So, what happened?’ asked Sami.
William crossed his arms. ‘It’s not as bad as I feared, but Imogen has got into an awful mess with her painkillers. She has been taking over-the-counter painkillers as well as those that have been prescribed.’
‘Overdosed?’ Beth asked quietly.
‘Not intentionally. I blame myself. I should have realised what was going on.’
Beth gave a silent sigh of relief: it didn’t sound like it had anything to do with Kathleen.
‘What has she taken?’ asked Sami.
William reeled off a list that meant nothing to Beth, but Sami looked grim faced.
‘I knew she was taking pain killers for her back after the fall on your skiing holiday,’ said Beth.
‘That’s right. It was a nasty fall. She was prescribed opioids when we came back. I think after a few weeks, though, she was exaggerating her symptoms because she’s been on them longer than I would have recommended. I know she saw a few different doctors. She told me she saw whoever was available but, looking back, I think she was playing the system.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Her own doctor wouldn’t have let her carry on so long. It’s called doctor shopping.’
‘But her doctor should have been helping her with the pain—’
Beth saw a knowing look between William and Sami.
‘I think she slipped quickly from taking the painkillers for her back to using them to self-medicate for anxiety and stress.’
‘Stress from school?’ asked Beth.
William nodded. ‘I’m sure it was. It’s a hard job and Imogen puts huge pressure on herself. Everything has to be perfect which, of course, is impossible.’
Beth had to admit that what he said made sense.
‘Anyway,’ continued William, ‘the problem was she was becoming addicted without even realising it, supplementing what the doctor prescribed with powerful over-the-counter painkillers. I can see now she must have been going around different pharmacies all over the island.’
‘Imogen was addicted?’ Beth asked in horror. An addict in her mind was some poor person, sitting in a squalid flat, emaciated, bruised: not a professional career woman.
As if reading her mind William said, ‘Addiction can happen to anyone, and with these medications it can happen in just a few weeks.’ He looked over at Sami. ‘I remember back in January you mentioned something about Kathleen being worried about the number of pills she’d seen Imogen with. I did check when I went home, but Imogen must have hidden them away. Still, I should have checked more often. The trouble was I had no idea how dependent she’d become.’
Beth looked at Sami. ‘Wouldn’t the pharmacists have realised, refused to sell them to her?’
‘It sounds like she spread out that risk. Also, some are less scrupulous about these things than others.’ said Sami.
‘So, what happened with Imogen today?’ Beth asked William.
‘Imogen had come home from work early. They’re doing some work in her office. She must have taken something: a mixture. We’re not sure exactly what. It was lucky I came home from work early too though. I knew she was in because her car was there, but I couldn’t find her. I went upstairs, and found her on the bed.’
‘Where was Elsa?’
‘At a friend’s house. Anyway, I dealt with Imogen, rang for an ambulance, and here we are.’
Beth shook her head. ‘It’s so awful. I can’t believe it.’
William stood up. ‘The main reason I called was to see if you can persuade Elsa to come back with you. I don’t want her alone in that house.’
‘Of course. We’ll come up.’
A group of people walked past: porters coming on duty, joking with each other. Beth’s initial reaction was to be annoyed: they should show more respect, talk quietly like they would in a library or a church but, of course, this was their place of work.
They went up a floor, and Beth and Sami waited in the corridor. Elsa came out of the ward on her own, suddenly looking much more like the little girl who would come crying to Beth when she’d fallen over. Beth hugged her. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I never knew,’ said Elsa.
‘None of us did,’ said Beth. ‘Listen. We’d love you to come home with us. Your mum is in safe hands here.’
‘I don’t want to go. I want to stay with her.’
Beth could hear the desperation in Elsa’s voice. ‘I understand. Well, how about I take you for a coffee in the café here. William can get us if he needs us.’
Sami stayed in the corridor. In the café, there were a few staff sitting on one side, eating as if they had no idea what was going into their mouths. Some were texting.
The coffee was weak and milky. Beth and Elsa sipped it, trying to ignore the taste.
Elsa looked up. ‘She will be all right, won’t she?’
‘I’m sure she will. Your mum is strong.’
‘I hate my life,’ said Elsa. She started to cry, dabbing under her eye with the back of her hand to stop her mascara running. Layla would have let the tears fall. Elsa was still aware of appearances, of being on show.
‘I blame Kathleen,’ she continued. ‘You might have all been taken in, but I knew she was a bitch. I found out she’d started nagging William about my portfolio, said Patrick had given me too much help. How dare she? She knew nothing. I told him it was all my own work. She was just poisoning him against me—’ Elsa stopped, sipped her coffee and grimaced. ‘She was one of those pretty women who are used to getting their own way. She manipulated everyone. Patrick just couldn’t see it.’
Elsa spat the words out. Beth realised now she had been too quick to dismiss Elsa’s hatred of Kathleen and her attraction to Patrick as youthful passion. As she sat opposite now, seeing Elsa’s arms crossed and red nails digging into her arms, she saw something deeper, more determined.
‘Patrick and Kathleen had been happily married for a long time,’ Beth said quietly. ‘Every marriage has its problems, but usually, when two people love each other, they work it out.’
‘But they didn’t,’ said Elsa. ‘I don’t care what Patrick said. Kathleen never loved him. He just couldn’t see it.’
‘He talked to you about Kathleen?’
‘When we went on that skiing holiday, I could see he was fed up with her. She never made any effort to come out.’
‘She was still grieving over the death of a friend.’
Elsa waved her hand. ‘She didn’t know that woman well. No, she didn’t come out because she wanted to stay and flirt with William. It was obvious when she didn’t come out skiing with us but stayed back with Mum and William. It was pathetic. Patrick and I had a great time, though.’ She took out her phone, scrolled though the photos and then showed Beth one of Patrick with her on the ski slopes.
‘See. He was happy, wasn’t he?’
‘It looks wonderful,’ said Beth quietly.
Elsa put her phone away. ‘I was right. I didn’t imagine things.’
‘I don’t suppose you ever talked to your mum about any of this?’
‘God, no. She’d have been hysterical. William did talk to me a bit after the skiing holiday. I think he guessed a bit of what was going on. He asked me if I’d enjoyed the holiday, and then he said that I had to be careful. He told me Kathleen had problems, that life wasn’t easy for Patrick at that moment, but he was sure they would work it out given time. He told me that Patrick had told him how lovely I looked in the photographs and he enjoyed talking to me. I was pleased about that, but William looked all worried and said I was not to take any of this seriously, that Patrick was a married man and I was still young.’ She looked up, her eyes pleading with Beth. ‘Do you think when someone dies, people pretend they liked them more than they did?’
Beth sipped her coffee. ‘Sometimes. It’s natural to want to look back on the good things someone did. But,’ she paused, trying to find the right words, ‘with Patrick, I’m sure he really loved Kathleen.’
Elsa was fiddling with the handle on her mug. She didn’t look up. ‘That’s what I was frightened of.’
Beth saw the passion, the heartache. Then, it was like a light switched on and she could see something she hadn’t seen before. ‘Elsa, is there something you need to talk about?’
Elsa looked up. ‘I always came to you when I was little, didn’t I? But this is not just falling out with a friend in school: it’s so much bigger.’
‘Is it something to do with the morning Kathleen died?’
Elsa was breathing deeply. Beth half expected her to run away, but she said. ‘I can’t talk to you, not here.’
‘I understand, and I can understand you not wanting to leave now, but look. Have you got my number? You can text me any time.’
Elsa nodded, took her phone out of her pocket. ‘Tell me the number. I’ve a new phone. I’ll send you mine as well.’ They exchanged numbers. ‘Thanks,’ said Elsa quietly. ‘Now, I want to go back and see Mum.’
They returned and Elsa went straight into the ward.
Beth sat down next to Sami, who told her, ‘William said Imogen is conscious now.’
‘Thank God.’ She sank back into her chair. ‘What is happening to our safe little world, Sami?’
‘I think the real world has just come crashing in. Elsa looked dreadful. It’s been a shock for her.’
‘I think she has more than just her mother on her mind.’
Sami didn’t seem to be listening.
‘What are you thinking about?’ asked Beth.
‘I was thinking about what William said earlier, about Kathleen being worried about Imogen. I should have taken her more seriously. It must have been January, the time of the snow, because Kathleen was telling me how she and Patrick had had to walk to Imogen’s. While she was there, she saw Imogen taking pills, glanced in her drawer and saw how many pills she had. She came in worrying about it the next day.’
‘But you told William—’
‘I know, but I assumed he knew and had it under control. He’s a doctor. I didn’t want to offend him. He did come back to me the next day, said he couldn’t find that many, but that he had been through it with Imogen again. I think she must have hidden stuff after Kathleen mentioned it to her.’
Beth saw Sami scratching his forehead, took his hand and said. ‘You did what you could. They’ll sort Imogen out now. Look, why don’t you go?’ She smiled. ‘See: you were right about bringing both cars.’
‘But you must be done in as well.’
‘I don’t mind staying. I’ll hang around for Elsa. I can’t see her wanting to come away. Go on: they’ll understand me taking the morning off work.’
‘Are you sure?’
Beth pulled her Kindle from her bag, and gave a tired smile. ‘I came prepared. Go on. I’ll see you later.’
Sami kissed her. ‘Thanks.’
Beth sat alone, opened her Kindle and scrolled down, looking for a light read. She found a book of funny stories about dogs and their owners and started to read, but her mind kept going back to Elsa: all that anger; hatred. Was it possible she had had anything to do with Kathleen’s death? Beth’s mind went to the last visit to Imogen’s. She saw Elsa’s car sitting there: the silver car. Desperately, she tried to push the thought away: no, not Elsa. Please not her.
After some time, William came out, and slumped in a seat next to her.
‘She’s sleeping. Thanks for staying, but Elsa’s not going to come. She wants to stay with her mum.’
‘Of course. So, how is Imogen?’
‘She’ll be fine, but we will need to get a grip on things when she comes home.’
‘Um, I was talking to Elsa earlier in the café. She was very, um, resentful of Kathleen, wasn’t she?’
William groaned. ‘It’s awful. She picked up all this nonsense from Imogen. The problem with these teenagers is their emotions are so strong, just way out of proportion at times. We might dislike; they hate.’
‘Yes, I see that.’
‘So she developed almost a paranoia about Kathleen. It wasn’t fair. I tried to reason with her, but I didn’t get far. It worried me, you know. She would say things like, “I wish Kathleen was dead,” which we know is nonsense, but it’s not a good way to talk.’ He put his hands on his knees and gave a weary smile. ‘Now, you must be exhausted. We’ll be fine. Thank you so much for all you’ve done. Don’t worry about coming in again today.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course. She’ll be in until the end of the week.’
‘Fine. I’ll come in after work tomorrow.’
Beth went home, and fell into bed. She couldn’t sleep immediately. In fact, once she was in bed she felt wide awake. She still couldn’t take it in that Imogen had become addicted to drugs. Imogen had always seemed so together: forthright, independent. It was the kind of behaviour she’d have had no time for in someone else. But then understanding addiction was hard for most people. Maybe some people were more susceptible but, at the end of the day, it could happen to anyone, and today she’d seen it had happened to Imogen.