Cuckoo (aka Claire, Darling)

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty

Jessica Pye

Dr Jessica Pye steps up to the stand. She looks too young to be a seasoned psychiatrist, too inexperienced for my entire future to rest on her testimony, but I know from our conversations that she’s switched on. I like her, if I’m being honest, after spending hours with her recounting and sharing so much of my life and thoughts. She is very serious, her full lower lip occasionally protruding when I speak, the only sign I can identify that means at least something I’ve said is of interest. She frowns occasionally, but this is often paired with a comforting nod, which leaves me unsure what she is thinking. Is she agreeing with me or am I just highlighting something she already suspects?

When I last saw her she was in a cream dress, but today she’s wearing a black dress and blazer, looking substantially more professional and imposing than she did at our last session. I gulp and hope for the best. This woman is so impartial that I can’t help but feel hopeful that she can intervene and end this entire charade. I’m hoping that the worst that can happen today is that Judge Black finds there is no case to answer in relation to murder, leaving only the possibility of the lesser charge, manslaughter. After all, I didn’t mean for Lilah to die. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that one little push could have brought us all to where we are today.

‘The court invites Dr Jessica Pye to speak,’ the judge intones.

‘Following several conversations and assessment of all the key parties, it is clear to me that Claire Arundale cannot by any reasonable person be found guilty of murder,’ she says.

My eyes widen and I exhale loudly with relief. I sink my head into my hands, allowing myself to luxuriate in the comfort of this woman, this stranger, finally defending me. Finally backing me.

‘While we psychoanalysed Miss Arundale immediately after her arrest, I’m sorry to say her mental capacity has deteriorated further since then. We were called in by her legal team who believed she had begun to show signs of mental health issues and I have spent the past week re-evaluating her under the new circumstances. Following my new assessment, I also argue she is not mentally capable of standing trial, and this has been backed by several other psychiatrists following an examination of all court and psychiatric assessment transcripts.’

I jerk in my seat and frown, looking over at Grosvenor, who seems to be nodding in agreement. Not capable of standing trial? What does that mean?

Slowly, she slides me a note.

I’m sorry, Claire. You are not a murderer: this is the best route out for you.

I stare at it, my blood running cold as realisation begins to dawn.

‘During my examination, I found overwhelming evidence that Miss Arundale suffers from a severe case of delusional disorder by way of psychosis. It is, in fact, the most extreme case I have come across in my years as a professional. The defendant is unable to distinguish reality from fantasy, and her unshakable belief she is engaged to Mr Coors illustrates that she is not living in the real world and so cannot tell fact from fiction. It is my understanding that they did indeed meet in Morrisons supermarket on the eighteenth of September 2024, but that it was a brief and professional encounter, as per Mr Coors’s testimony. Following this encounter, the defendant followed him to a coffee shop where she learned his name and place of work from a lanyard hanging out of his backpack. She then began to construct a double life for herself, which she quickly spiralled into, unable to understand what was real and what was a construct of her own mind. The difficulty of this disorder is that, largely, it will not impact a person’s day-to-day life. She is able to work, to function and to socialise, but the depths of the disorder are hidden away within the recesses of the mind and it is not until you begin to dig that you realise just how severely delusional a patient is.’

I feel sick, a sense of hot dread sweeping over me.

‘It is my personal belief that her disorder, while largely genetic, has been fuelled by the environment in which she grew up, over which as a child she had no control. She was raised by an abusive mum, who I believe to have had cluster B narcissistic personality disorder. This induces extremely volatile behaviour and heightened emotions, affecting the same side of the brain as psychopathy or sociopathy. Being raised by someone with this type of personality disorder is proven to leave offspring with severe emotional neglect and trauma wounds, which can occasionally evolve into psychosis if the patient is already genetically predisposed to the condition. After hours of conversation with Miss Arundale, it is clear to me that her childhood left her completely devoid of emotional stability, love, nurturing or security, which I believe to have triggered her psychosis in later life following the passing of her only parent.

‘Furthermore, Miss Arundale’s delusional disorder fits perfectly into the category of erotomania, in which a person believes someone is in love with them. This will often lead to the stalking behaviour we have heard described, and which we have heard instances of from some of the witnesses in the trial. In her defence, these delusions can also lead to irritability and mood swings, which would have been escalated by the defendant’s alcohol consumption in the week leading up to Lilah Andersson’s death. It is clear to me that the defendant is a victim of her own mental health, that she has been suffering from an undiagnosed psychosis for a quite astounding length of time, completely unmedicated, and that she cannot in consequence be held criminally liable for the death of Miss Andersson nor stand trial as a result.’

‘I invite the defence to make a statement,’ the judge is saying, but again the words sound wavy and watery as my chest tightens and I feel myself closing down.

‘We have cross-referenced entries from Miss Arundale’s personal journal and have found various discrepancies between her understanding of reality and what actually happened,’ Grosvenor begins. ‘On September the twenty-second 2024, for instance, she wrote about visiting an Italian restaurant with Mr Coors after an interaction on the street, while CCTV footage shows Miss Arundale never actually entered the restaurant, instead watching Mr Coors through the window while he ate with Mr Barton. On April the fifth the following year she wrote about a trip to Venice, but airline logs prove that only Miss Arundale was booked to travel on that flight, with Mr Coors accounted for at work in the UK the same week that she wrote about their being on holiday together. In February when she wrote about becoming engaged to him, he has a solid alibi, being present at a client party the entire evening. Her ring, we believe, was purchased by Miss Arundale herself from a local Christmas market. The receipt was found in her home, folded into an origami rabbit, beside a bizarre notebook filled with ramblings relating to Mr Coors, his family and friends. It is clear to me that the events described in Miss Arundale’s journal represent the truth as she saw it and not the objective truth. I believe that this is evidence enough of the psychosis Dr Pye has diagnosed her with and ask that my client be discharged from trial on the grounds of mental incapacity.’

I stand, my legs shaking uncontrollably, and vaguely hear Grosvenor telling the court we need to adjourn because I am ill, but her voice is echoing strangely and the next thing I know I am on my knees in a fluorescent-lit court bathroom, heaving into a toilet while two people stand guard over me, and tears are streaming down my face, and all I can think is that this is wrong, wrong, WRONG, and how I wish that Noah would step in and stop it from happening.