Chapter 49
SCARLETT
The fear takes hold, filling me to the brim. I let out a faint whimper.
Justin’s voice echoes around the stables, addressing this Phoebe, whoever she is. ‘Good. Shall we dive straight in.’ It’s a statement, not a question.
‘Yes, let’s,’ Phoebe says as if she is truly excited. I’m racking my brain for an explanation. She sounds alert, but there’s a tone to her voice. An edge. Or is that an emptiness?
There’s a pause and music starts playing.
It’s another of his Chopin pieces. He’s playing it low enough for me to still hear them talking.
Justin continues. ‘Where did we leave off last time?’ Papers shuffle and stop.
‘Ah, yes. We spoke at length about your experiences of being homeless. You talked in detail about the changing seasons, and how that affected you both physically and mentally.’
‘Yes. I found the winter particularly hard.’
‘In what way?’
‘Living rough when it’s freezing outside is no fun. But all of it was hell all year round, if I’m honest.’
‘What was the worst?’
‘Not having a regular shower. And I hated being hungry in the middle of the night. That was the worst, really, I guess. The hunger. And worrying if someone was going to steal my stuff. I thought I’d never be happy again.’
‘I’m sure. So, being here, how are you feeling now?’ The question feels loaded.
‘I feel safe. Secure. I don’t like it when you go away for long periods, though. I lose track of night and day. It feels as if you’ve been away for days this time. I really don’t like it, Justin.’
‘It’s all part of the programme, Phoebe. We’ve been through this. It helps you to open up to another dimension of your being. Tell me – when I return. How does that make you feel?’
‘Happy. It makes me feel happy.’
Happy! She believes it, too. I listen as the conversation continues for, I’d guess, twenty minutes.
He seems to be conducting some sort of psychological profiling of her.
His questions focus on how grateful she should be for him having rescued her, for the support he has given her, as if it’s some sort of ego trip for him.
He appears to have complete control over her.
Who is this freak? I knew there was something about him. But this… this!
I continue listening, incredulous.
He clears his throat. ‘And the meditation exercises work, you said.’
‘Yes, they’ve been a great help,’ she replies.
There are a few moments of silence before he speaks again. ‘I think we’ll try some more hypnotherapy. Let’s try and find out what more is going on inside that brain of yours. Perhaps later on today, if I’ve got the time. I’m rather busy at the moment. What about the medication?’
‘Yes, those new tablets are making my mood so much better, Justin. Thank you. I appreciate it.’
‘Explain more. How have they helped your mood?’
‘I feel more alive. More positive about the future.’
‘And what do you want to do with your future now? When you first came here, you were fed up with life. You actually said you wanted to die. Now look at you. What a remarkable difference.’
‘I don’t feel that way now. Can I ask you a question?’
‘It’s me who asks the questions here, Phoebe. Not you.’ From the tone of his voice, I can sense the smirk on his face.
‘Please, just one. How much longer am I going to be staying here?’
‘Why? Aren’t you happy? You said you were happy.’
‘I am. I am. Very much so. And I’m so grateful for your kindness and the true enlightenment you’ve shown me. I just want to know when it’ll be my turn to move on.’
Justin’s tone shifts. ‘Since you ask, your passage is drawing to a close,’ he says brusquely.
Oddly, she replies, ‘Oh, but I’m not sure I feel ready.’
‘There is little more for you to learn here.’
‘Where will I go?’ Phoebe asks. ‘The same place the other girl went?’
My breathing turns shallow, quick gasps through my nose, making me dizzy. What other girl? There’s been more of them. More of us? How many bodies are there in that lake?
She’s not the only one with the questions.
‘Enough,’ Justin says dismissively. ‘Now go back to your stall. I need to get on. I’ll shortly be putting the wheels in motion for you to embark on the next chapter of your enlightenment.’
‘You’re not angry with me, are you?’ she asks.
‘We’ll leave it there for now.’
Footsteps shuffle across the ground, Phoebe’s lighter than Justin’s. ‘Please, Justin. I want to know that you’re not angry with me.’ I shudder as the door of the stall next to mine slides open and bangs shut. I look up. A dark silhouette appears at the door to my stall.
‘Now. Imogen.’ Justin’s voice booms through the metal railings. ‘What have you been up to? We need to talk, I think, don’t you?’