A week later and, for Thea, the world around her, which had been grey and flat like a broken pop-up book, suddenly sprang open.
There was no doubt about it: she was getting more sleep.
Not much. She fell asleep at around 7 a.m., but now she was waking later, nearer 10 a.m. The usual one hour of sleep had blossomed into nearly three. Those hours were a cool aloe vera gel smoothed onto her brain and eyes.
Odd hours though. She couldn’t get away from that. It was as if her body was fighting sleep the whole night and then, like a stubborn toddler, gave in just as the day started for everyone else. If this was her normal sleep pattern then she would be seriously out of step with … well, the world.
Sleep therapy took place in a room with one curved white wall and a view of the old monastery. Seeing its streaked stone and ravaged eyes reminded Thea of that twilit walk she’d taken over a week ago. She turned away.
It was a bit of plastic fluttering in the wind, a bird, an old bit of paper, a trick of the light.
Not a face.
Rosie patted the empty seat next to her and Thea sat down.
When was the last time someone other than her mother had saved a chair for her? Thea wondered. It took her far too long to come up with an answer.
They had been put into ‘families’ for most group sessions, each one overseen by a sleep guru. Thea’s family consisted of about ten people and she only knew the names of a handful.
‘I used to have an Action Ken to go with my Barbie when I was little.’ Rosie stared dreamily at one of their group, Ethan, over her cup of mushroom coffee as they waited for the session to start. ‘And that guy over there is exactly like a walking Action Ken! You would, wouldn’t you?’ She angled Thea’s face towards him. ‘Wouldn’t you? You would.’
She wouldn’t let go of Thea’s face until she’d agreed that yes, she would. Which she did because Rosie holding her chin and staring at her intently was starting to catch people’s attention. Including Ethan’s.
‘I wonder what he’s in for?’ Rosie continued. ‘I’d like to see one of those people who just fall asleep anywhere. I saw it on a documentary once. They, like, sneeze, and then just collapse to the ground, completely asleep. It’s amazing. I get these night terrors, right? Like, awful, awful night terrors. I wake up screaming, then the dog starts howling and I’m sweating like I’ve run a marathon. It’s just wrong. I mean, I’m single at the mo, but that could change, you know, any day now, and I can’t be waking him up every night like a banshee, can I? It’d put him off. What’s your thing?’
Rosie made it sound a bit like a superpower.
‘I just don’t sleep much,’ Thea replied, a little dazed because talking to Rosie was like being on permanent fast-forward. ‘Don’t get to sleep until it’s time to wake up for work in the morning.’
‘Whoa. Weird.’
On one side of the room there were little canapé trays of vegetables masquerading as something more enticing. Rosie got up and filled a plate, thoughtfully picking through the selection before returning to her seat.
‘Being awake for so long on your own must be boring though, no?’ she said, unwinding a carrot concoction. ‘What do you do with all that time?’
‘Read.’
Rosie blinked.
‘Think.’
Rosie blinked again.
‘Watch television sometimes …’
Rosie’s face lit up. ‘I love a good box set! But not those nature docs – they’re brutal. I do not want to see another baby seal being mutilated while I’m eating my Pot Noodle.’
But Thea was hardly listening. In her mind she was back at the monastery walls as the daylight slunk away, looking up at a flicker of movement in the window.
Harriet tapped on her tablet a few more times and then stood up, clapping her hands once for order.
‘Okay, everyone. Let’s make a start.’
Thea saw Ethan mutter something to himself. Harriet turned and smiled at him.
‘Let’s start with you, Ethan,’ she said brightly, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder with slightly more vehemence than was needed. ‘Everyone, this is Ethan’s space. Ethan, tell us why you’re here.’
‘Because you’re paying me.’ He crossed one ankle over a knee and studied a fingernail. Rosie’s description of him as a Ken doll wasn’t so far off the mark, Thea thought, except a Ken doll had a happy smile painted on his chiselled face.
‘Yes. How droll.’ Harriet narrowed her eyes. ‘I meant, why can’t you sleep? You have nightmares, yes?’
‘Ooh! We have something in common!’ Rosie whispered excitedly to Thea.
Ethan switched his concentration to something on the sole of his shoe.
‘You have no trouble going to sleep but then are woken up by the nightmares and can’t fall asleep again. Am I correct?’
Ethan put his foot back down and, for a moment, just sat there with his hands on his knees, staring at the floor. Then he stood, quickly fixing Harriet with a challenging stare.
‘Sorry, Harriet. Got to go to the bathroom. You’ll have to start with someone else.’
He walked off and Harriet pressed her lips together firmly, as if trying to stop herself from saying something. She took a deep breath and then switched her smile back on.
‘So? Anyone else like to start?’
Luckily, hands went up. Thea couldn’t remember many of the others’ names apart from a couple. One of them was Moira, a middle-aged woman with thick, round, owlish glasses. She went sleepwalking almost every night. ‘Which is scary because I live alone and what happens if I manage to get the front door open? Once I even made myself a peanut butter and jam sandwich, completely asleep!’ She yawned. ‘And I don’t even like peanut butter and jam! But at least I know why I can’t ever lose any damn weight …’
Thea recognized tortoise-Richard from the lecture – the man who had nodded off. There were big dark smudges under his eyes and he was so softly spoken that everyone had to lean in a little to hear him properly.
‘I wake up and I can’t move. I’m paralyzed, as if something is pinning me down and I’m petrified because then it feels like I’m choking.’
His hand went to his neck.
‘And I’m trying to move and I’m trying to breathe and it all just gets worse and worse. It’s over in a few minutes but I can do that a couple of times a night. Lucky I have no one to wake up, eh?’
He lowered his voice even further to a sad little whisper. ‘I’m too scared to go to sleep.’
His head drooped.
There was a pause and Harriet looked up from her tablet. ‘Right! Lovely!’ she said and Thea got the distinct impression that she hadn’t been listening. ‘Now, next. Please think of a dream or nightmare that has stuck in your head and share it with your partner.’
If she’d had nightmares, which she didn’t, nor dreams either really – but if she did, Thea would have had nightmares about the monastery. The rust staining the tower wall, spires like needle teeth and the blank dark windows where the blackness inside the old place came seeping out …
If she had nightmares, she would have had them about the pale blob of a face, only half-glimpsed.
‘I was in a cuckoo clock,’ Rosie said in a soft voice. ‘It must have come from my grandparents, right, because they had this cuckoo clock I was absolutely fascinated with as a child. Huge old thing. Anyway. I’m in the cuckoo clock having scones and tea with the cuckoo and it’s great. It’s all warm and cosy and the cuckoo is telling me how much she loves her job. She’s wearing a shawl and she’s got little glasses perched on her beak, even though her eyes are totally on the side of her head, right, so they’d be useless. Every so often she gets up and shoots out of the door to call the time, but she always comes back and we carry on having tea. I loved it in that cuckoo clock and I was really sad when I woke up.’
‘Have you still got the clock?’ Thea asked.
‘Nah. I was too little when they died. My mother sold all their stuff, used up the money. She’s a peach, my mum.’ Rosie’s smile didn’t quite convince. ‘Was. She was …’ She sniffed.
Thea started to say something but was interrupted by Ethan marching back into the main hall holding his mobile phone aloft as if it was lighting his way.
‘This is bollocks!’ He tossed the phone onto the little table they were clustered around and crossed his arms, those much-appreciated-by-Rosie biceps bulging. ‘We should be able to use our phones, like normal people. I didn’t sign up for this!’
Eye contact was carefully avoided.
Harriet massaged the bridge of her nose for a moment and clenched her jaw before going over to him, stilettos stabbing the floor. She whispered something to him that the rest of them couldn’t hear.
‘It’s not bloody good enough!’ He continued in the same loud tone. ‘You’re a bunch of tech geniuses who don’t approve of Wi-Fi?’
There were a few sniggers. Harriet sighed and turned to them all.
‘Respectfully – yes, you did sign up for this. No one reads the small print, do they? And you can use a phone; there are plenty provided, they’re just not yours.’ Harriet paused and smiled kindly at the group. ‘And a bit of a tech detox doesn’t seem to have done anyone any harm. Now, are there any other issues people want to raise, or may we proceed?’
To her own surprise as much as Harriet’s, Thea raised her hand.