Mother ('The Family' Psychological Thriller Trilogy Book 2) by Jack Stainton

Author:Jack Stainton [Stainton, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Windmill Streams Publishers
Published: 2022-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

25

“Is she okay now?”

The thought of Julia being that depressed hit me hard, but could I trust Amelia’s version of events?

“She’s back home. For now. Until she’s fully recovered.”

“In her house, you mean?”

Knowing exactly which ‘home’ Amelia had meant, I still wanted to hear it from her mouth. The visions of being strapped to the bed and Tracy pushing giant-sized pills down my throat made me shake.

Could Julia be in the same bed?

“In the family home, Matt. She’s in a spare room. The doctors are very happy that Tracy is looking after her.”

Nodding my head in agreement whilst thinking the exact opposite proved difficult. Again, I wondered how much Tracy had heard of Julia’s relatively incoherent phone call to me. Julia had spoken so quietly, so vaguely, I’d barely been able to decipher her words myself. The only time she had raised her voice was when she mentioned Russell Square, the part Tracy had understood.

What else had she said?

‘Have you been followed?’

Julia had acted irrationally, nonsensically. Her behaviour had scared me. I recollected her appearance when we met. Greasy hair, a long baggy cardigan which she kept wrapping and unwrapping from her chest. And those fingernails, filthy and bloody. She had continually bitten at the quicks, hard skin which protruded at angles, like jagged edges. She’d stood and paced to the lawn, turned and then stepped back again, her eyes darting everywhere.

“Matt?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just trying to imagine what she’s going through, that’s—”

“When did you last see her?”

Shit.

“Sorry. I, erm, I do not know. Before Graham did what he did in the woods, I think.”

Amelia didn’t smile. She showed no emotion. But her eyes never left mine. A look of knowing something but not being able to quite prove it. Or could she prove it, but opted for politeness instead? Either way, she didn’t ask again.

“She’s psychotic. That’s the diagnosis.”

Even though I didn’t really know what it meant, the word still scared me.

“Psychotic?” I repeated. “Is that even curable?”

“Apparently so. We need to get the balance of chemicals right in her head. Tracy knows about it.”

Of course she fucking does.

“Will Julia go home again? I mean to her own place.”

“Hopefully, soon. We don’t really want her in the house. You know, with a baby on the way.”

Although considering it a cruel thing to say, I’d half expected it. I even allowed myself a little smile when I considered how many bloody nutters were in that building already.

“But what if she doesn’t recover before then? You can’t throw her out onto the streets.”

Amelia stood. We’d already spent longer in conversation than at any previous meeting. Although she didn’t rub it in that she had to get back to work, she still couldn’t resist one little dig.

“Maybe she could come and live with you?”

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