She was nothing like Kassie had imagined.
Ever since Adam Brandt had first mentioned Faith, Kassie had had a picture of the eminent psychologist’s wife in mind. She was groomed, sophisticated, operating in a world that was entirely alien to Kassie. Kassie imagined her gliding around an imposing brown-brick mansion, entertaining, achieving, nurturing. The reality was somewhat different. Adam’s home was impressive, but still cute, and Faith was not polished in the slightest. She was floaty, bohemian, even a little dishevelled, with a manner that was both nervy and distracted. She stood in the doorway, her dressing gown hanging off one shoulder, eyeing Kassie with something that looked very much like irritation.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ Kassie blustered, dropping her eyes to the ground as her prepared speech evaporated.
‘Look, if you’re selling something –’
‘I’m looking for Adam … Dr Brandt. I’m Kassie Wojcek.’
Silence. Kassie darted a look in Faith’s direction and spotted a subtle change in her expression. Recognition certainly, but also something else. Surprise? Curiosity?
‘I shouldn’t come here, I know, but he’s not at his office and he’s not answering his phone.’
‘No, he’s had to …’ Faith replied, faltering. ‘He’s had to go out.’
‘I see.’
Suddenly, Kassie didn’t know what to do. She was aware that there had been some kind of family emergency – she guessed at bereavement given Adam’s sombre tone, one of Faith’s parents maybe – and had convinced herself that he would be at home, comforting his wife. She hadn’t really made an alternative plan in the event that she was wrong. She rocked back and forward on the spot, biting her nails.
‘Shall I get him to call you?’
Faith’s voice cut through her introspection.
‘Yes. Please,’ she mumbled. ‘And can you tell him it’s urgent.’
‘Of course.’
The conversation petered out – Kassie lacking the requisite polish to know what to say next, she hovered on the doorstep, uncertain whether to stay or go. For the last hour or so, local news feeds on Twitter had been abuzz with rumours that a second body had been discovered and Kassie had felt compelled to seek Adam out. But now she was lost as to what to do next. Disappointed and frustrated, she turned to leave, feeling angry at herself for having achieved nothing but disturbing someone who was clearly in pain.
‘Look, you can stay if you want.’
Surprised, Kassie paused, turned.
‘He’ll be back in half an hour or so. He’s not planning on going into the office today, so if it’s important …’
Kassie wanted to accept the offer, but found herself saying:
‘It’s fine. I don’t want to distur—’
‘It’s ok. Really.’
It was said gently, but firmly. Kassie arrowed another look at her and was surprised to see kindness, even sympathy in Faith’s expression. A sense of one soul in pain reaching out to another. Smiling her thanks, she stepped inside.
Five minutes later, Kassie found herself in a spacious studio at the back of the house. They had bypassed the living room, which was decorated with numerous family photos and holiday souvenirs, heading straight for the kitchen instead. Coffee had been swiftly produced and they’d then made the way to the rear of the property, to Faith’s Aladdin’s cave.
Kassie had never seen anything like it. The room was full of sculptures, tapestries and trinkets – corpulent Buddhas rubbing up against Irish faeries and Chinese ‘lucky charm’ cats. But it was the paintings that really took her breath away. They came in many different sizes – some small and intimate, others huge and imposing – and in many different styles. They were all portraits – some in electric, almost luminous colours, others in austere charcoals – but each one drew you in, challenging you to explore the personality of the subject.
‘Are these all yours?’ Kassie found herself saying.
Faith looked around her, as if surprised to find the paintings there, then replied casually:
‘Uh-huh.’
‘They’re amazing.’
Kassie was aware she sounded like a gushing fan, but couldn’t help herself.
‘How long did it take you to paint all these?’
‘Years,’ Faith replied uninterestedly.
‘They should be in a gallery. Or a shop,’ Kassie continued, gabbling.
‘Sure …’
Faith sounded disconnected, as if the paintings weren’t hers, as if they weren’t worthy of anyone’s interest, least of all hers, and as Kassie turned to look at her, she realized how pale Adam’s wife looked. She seemed bereft, hollow even, and as Kassie allowed her eyes to wander over her, she noticed for the first time the small bulge around her belly. And suddenly she thought she knew what had unbalanced this lucky couple’s world.
‘Look, maybe I should go,’ Kassie said, putting her coffee cup down.
‘Don’t. I’d rather you were here. It’s very quiet when I’m on my own.’
Kassie hesitated, uncertain whether to follow her instinct to depart or stay and keep her wounded hostess company.
‘We lost a baby,’ Faith continued quickly.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Sometimes I like to be alone … it’s easier … but other times …’
She petered out, emotion mastering her. Kassie suddenly had a painfully clear image of a grief-stricken woman rattling around this empty house, her unfulfilled hopes for the future goading her in the quiet, child-free rooms. Instinctively, she took a step forward, and laid a hand on Faith’s arm. To her surprise, Faith grasped it, as if hanging on for dear life.
‘It must be hell,’ Kassie found herself saying, stroking Faith’s arm with her free hand, trying to bring some comfort to the distraught mother.
Faith nodded forcefully, as a couple of tears slid down her face.
‘It’s worse than that.’
Kassie murmured her agreement, unsure how to respond. Faith was more than twice her age and the teenager felt seriously out of her depth. Once again, she wondered if it would be better if she left – Adam would hardly thank her for upsetting his wife – when Faith looked up. She scrutinized Kassie for a moment, as if weighing up whether to speak or not, then said:
‘Do you think …?’
Still she hesitated, searching Kassie’s face for answers.
‘Do you think she suffered?’
Kassie was wrong-footed by the question, but Faith was staring at her intently now, as if yearning for her counsel. Flustered, uncomfortable, Kassie dropped her gaze.
‘When Annabelle died, did she suffer at all?’
Kassie tried to keep calm, but she felt unnerved, unsettled, out of her depth.
‘Please, Kassie … I need to know.’
What was she expected to say? What exactly had Adam told Faith about her? She had no idea what the unborn baby had experienced, she had no image of her, no concept of her existence. Yet such was Faith’s clear need for solace, for succour, that Kassie surprised herself by replying:
‘No. No, she didn’t suffer at all.’
And, to Kassie’s immense shame, Faith smiled back at her through her tears.