daughter’s death.
«Here… I already packed my things. I just need you to understand me,» Carol said sighing.
«I deliberately took a day off tomorrow so that we would go to…» started William.
«Stop!» she clasped her fingers and held her hands to her chest. The sleeve of the blouse on her wrist tightened, and he saw a button come off but Carol didn’t notice anything. A small plastic circle attracted his gaze, preventing him from thinking. There was a complete void in his head.
«Did you file for divorce?» finally, he asked quietly. She nodded and lowered her head. Her thin shoulders trembled like willow branches in the wind by the river, and Carol, clutching her fingers, turned away to the window.
«I asked the lawyer to solve all the issues for me. She has your phone number. I’ve signed all the documents. I don’t want to go to court. Let’s do everything quietly and decently?» Carol whispered.
«But you can’t…» the elusive sense of reality deprived William of the ability to think and speak. Despair swept over his mind, and a lump formed in his throat.
«Please don’t interrupt me. I ask for the only thing – let me go – and promise not to call at least for a year. I beg you!»
«I wanted…» he spread his hands in dismay, catching himself thinking that he had long been ready for such a turn of events. After the death of their daughter in a psychiatric hospital, an abyss came between them. He insisted on sending Sofia for compulsory treatment, although Carol was against it, and when the tragedy occurred, she was so silent that it was worse than any words. Yes, Carol considered him guilty of the death of their daughter, but Sofia was already eighteen years old. She came across her more than once smoking pot and dabbled in light chemical drugs. When she was expelled from college, he decided to send her there and never regretted it because bouts of her rage were later replaced by lapses in memory and hallucinations. Even on the day of her death, when they were informed that Sofia was hit by a car, when she tried to escape from the hospital at night… Even then, he believed that he had done the right thing. At home they would not have been able to deal with her addiction. This was true – they lost Sofia long before she became addicted to drugs. They just didn’t want to admit it and now… now it was too late. «Where will you go? To your mother?» William asked hoarsely.
«Yes. I’m gonna stay nearby with my friend. She agreed to let me stay me for the rest of the week,» said Carol.
«But this is your home. I’m not kicking you out of the house. You can stay. I’ll leave. I can spend the night in the department. It’s okay. Or in the car. Why do you need…»
«Don’t! I can’t. For me it’s torture. I’ve already made the decision. I am really sorry, but it will be better for both of us. I’d better go. I’m starting to cry. This is bad. If anything, call my mother or better the lawyer.»
«Yes, it’s better to deal with your lawyer,» William shook his head, seeing that the awkwardness of the situation was beginning to weigh on his wife. Finally, Carol straightened upright, pursed her lips again and, trying not to look at him, passed by. Then the latch of the front door clicked softly, and everything was quiet.
William was left alone, all alone, in the small house, 22 Low Street where he and Carol dreamed of raising children and living a full life but now there were no children and now no wife. He went to the cabinet door and stood for a long time, in a state of complete dullness. It was real dullness, because his head was empty inside. There was no grief, no pain, despair or anger – merely nothing. He started looking for whiskey. The last time he drank it was four years ago… Now it seemed to be the only way to pass out and stop thinking about what happened in his life, dividing it in half – before and after today.
CHAPTER 3
At dusk the street seemed empty and deserted. A lone passerby crossed to the other side and looked around several times. He was wearing jeans, sneakers and a jacket with a hood, like thousands of young residents of this city, who outwardly differed little from each other. Having approached the gate with a low fence in front of the lawn, he looked around again and only after that opened it. The door sign read: «Dr. Woodruff. Psychiatrist’. Adjusting the backpack on his shoulders, the young man pressed the bell button and pushed his hood back from his head. Footsteps were heard in the house.
«No more patients?» instead of greeting, he asked when the door opened and the owner of the house appeared on the threshold.
«What happened? We didn’t arrange a meeting…» Doctor Woodruff was clearly puzzled and could not hide his embarrassment. He did not understand what could have brought this man to him at such a late hour.
«I wanted to see you. You, as always, don’t drink? Even with pretty girls?»
«Stop it! You’d hardly come for this. I told you a hundred times – no alcohol. I have heart problems. Come in!» standing on the porch was not very good, it was better to question him about everything inside the house.
«Yes, you told me but you don’t look bad at all, though, and in particular, you are so great in bed.»
«It’s too late. What happened? Are you feeling paranoid and hallucinating again? Do you need some medication?» he sat on the sofa and, clasping his hands in front of him, prepared to listen.
«Yes. This frigging ghost showed up again, and he screamed again. It was the same, but today he got to me. Yes, yes, I know what you told me about this: you need to get rid of him, steer clear of him, relax, do something else… It doesn’t work. Only our meetings help me, when you tell me about the others. Today it got me down, I felt very bad, got sick at work. I had to beg to be let off work but he followed me everywhere, can you imagine what that’s like? Yes, yes, I took your pills, sat down, counted to a hundred. It didn’t help. I don’t know… It hurts.»
«Do you definitely take all the medication that I presc…»
«Sure! You see, I stopped talking to myself and my memory is okay now but all this is rubbish! The best medicine is you and your stories – you are a good doctor. I’m probably crazy, right? Well, I’m so sorry to say this, but you are the best medicine for me and your antidepressants are shit.
«Listen, I was thinking, why wouldn’t you adopt a child? This is the most powerful incentive in life. It can change everything. Now you can even have…»
The sound of a mobile phone ringing interrupted him.
«Who is it?» his visitor asked in surprise.
«I don’t know… Damn it, this is… one of very important patients. It’s quite unusual for her, we did not make an appointment, not least at this time of night. Quiet, please,» he put a finger to his lips and went out into the kitchen. «Yes, Mrs. Lindstone? Good evening! Yes, yes, of course…»
When the psychiatrist returned to the living room with a pensive expression on his face, a question was already waiting for him:
«Well, what is it?»
«She wants to stop by for half an hour just to talk. She even begged me as she is divorcing her husband.»
«Wow! Didn’t you refuse?»
«No.»
«Great! Is she the same Carol, the wife of the policeman, right? I have not heard about them for a long time. There’ll be a new interesting story. It turns me on. What about you, Mickey?»
«Don’t call me that. At least for now. I need to get my thoughts together,» it was unpleasant to hear hints of past relationships, especially because he was going to break up with this once and for all.
«As you wish. I’ll wait in the bedroom. I promise to sit quietly. Don’t worry! I’ll be waiting for her news. Just be sure to find as much as possible about her divorce and bring Bill’s glass here.