Madwoman by Louisa Treger

Author:Louisa Treger
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781448218035
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2022-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

ON HER SECOND MORNING, Nellie was brought to see the doctor. She found not Dr Kinier, but a tall, fresh-looking man with fair, curly hair and the air of a gentleman.

He held out his hand, his grip was warm. ‘It’s good to meet you,’ he said, gesturing her to the chair opposite his desk. ‘I am Dr Ingram, the assistant superintendent. How are you feeling?’

‘Oh, I feel all right,’ she replied, surprised to be treated an equal after the usual brutal handling.

‘But you are sick, you know.’ He spoke in a reasonable, reassuring way.

‘Well, I’d be a good deal better if we were given more clothes. It’s awful cold in here.’

‘You’re right – it is unseasonably cold for October. I’m going to speak to the nurses about getting you some warm garments.’

Crossing to her side of the desk, he picked up her wrist and took her pulse. He felt her temples, as well as behind her ears and along her jawline – his touch was gentle. He went back to his chair and began to ask questions.

‘Your admitting report said you hear voices in your head. Can you tell me more about them? What exactly do they say?’

Nellie looked at him quickly, then looked away. ‘I haven’t heard any recently,’ she said.

‘That’s good,’ he smiled. ‘It sounds like the asylum is having a calming effect on you already.’ He was making notes as she spoke, writing down everything she said.

His pen paused and he raised his eyes to meet hers. ‘Why don’t we begin at the beginning? Would you say your childhood was a happy one?’

Nellie hadn’t expected this and it threw her. Should she invent a fictitious early life? Or was it better to talk about her real life because she was less likely to make mistakes? She decided to go with the truth, despite never having spoken of it to anyone before.

‘We were happy until my father died. But then, my mother remarried. My stepfather was… violent.’ Saying it triggered the familiar twinge of anxiety in her stomach.

Now the doctor sat up straight. ‘Violent? In what way?’ he asked. ‘You can be perfectly open with me. You needn’t hold anything back.’

It was impossible to tell him. She had not talked very much since her father died, not about anything personal, the way other girls talked. It struck her that she was far more comfortable telling other people’s stories than her own. She didn’t know how to be confiding, so she gave Dr Ingram a blank, staring look.

‘You have nothing to be afraid of,’ he said.

She shook her head, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth.

Dr Ingram watched her for a moment, silent and pensive. Then he brightened. ‘Maybe you will find it easier to talk when you know me better,’ he suggested. ‘It takes time to build trust, but I am a patient man. So, since you’re finding it difficult to talk about your life, why don’t I tell you about mine?’

‘Yes, I would like that.’

He sat back and crossed his arms.

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