Another memory then, of Jamie walking away.
Ella.
She needs to get home. Soon.
‘Rebecca?’
The nurse is still talking, she realises and she tries to concentrate on her words, trying to pretend that the room isn’t spinning slightly off its axis, that her skin isn’t prickled with fear underneath the layer of newly formed perspiration, that her hands aren’t shaking.
‘I said that’s good to hear! That you slept. I always feel better after a few hours sleep.’
Marlene is chatting away as she arranges the food on the tray for her. ‘I’ve got you some breakfast here. Most important meal of the day, they say. Funny old saying, because if you ask me all my meals are important!’ Patting her non-existent stomach, Marlene winks, willing Rebecca to smile, but she can’t although she can’t help but think that if they’d met under any other circumstances, Rebecca would probably really like this girl. She seemed kind, funny.
But she was a nurse, Rebecca reminded herself. She was one of them.
Rebecca looks down at the floor. Her head is groggy, and she can feel a headache pulsating behind her eyes. She rubs her forehead, before glancing back at the soft, fluffy pillows behind her, fighting the resistance to lay back down and close her eyes. To give in to the lull of sleep. To just close her eyes and make all of this go away.
‘You not hungry?’ Marlene asked. ‘Maybe just have a little bit of toast, or some fruit, yeah? There’s some orange juice here too. And I can get you some tea or coffee?’
Rebecca wonders if this is all part of her assessment too? That Marlene is secretly taking notes. Monitoring her behaviour and reporting back to the psychiatrist.
She moves from the bed, picking up a slice of toast. Tearing at the crisp, dried corner of the crust with her teeth. She picks up the glass of orange juice and forces herself to swallow it down.
All she can think about is Ella.
Is Jamie with her now? Is he watching her continuously like she would?
Is she missing her too?
Because Jamie doesn’t know Ella’s routine, he doesn’t know how Rebecca always sings her to sleep with ‘You Are My Sunshine’ softly recited in her ear, as Ella nuzzles against her chest after a feed. Or how Ella likes to sleep with her comfort blankie draped over the right side of her face, covering her eye and cheek.
And part of Jamie’s incompetence is her fault, she can admit that.
At least to herself.
Because she’s pushed him out. She’s been so wrapped up with Ella that she’s driven a wedge between Jamie and his daughter. Because deep down, Rebecca didn’t want to share her.
She wanted to keep Ella all to herself.
She’d never thought she would be good enough to be a mum but having Ella had changed her completely. She tried so hard to do right by her daughter, but that desperation to get everything perfect had turned into overprotectiveness.
‘Your husband packed you some belongings. Some clean clothes and toiletries,’ Marlene says brightly, interrupting Rebecca’s train of thought.
Rebecca forces herself to gulp down the last mouthful of toast, coughing violently as it lodges against the tight ball of emotion sitting inside her throat. She spots the familiar designer bag down on the floor near the dresser and bending down, she unzips it, selects a few of the items of clothing from the top. She holds up the oversized cream sweater Jamie must have pulled out from the bottom of the wardrobe; it’s been so long since she wore it. And her blue skinny jeans, dirty, retrieved from the bedroom floor, and a pair of tatty old plimsolls that she no longer wore.
The expression on her face must have said that he couldn’t have picked a worse selection of clothing, because Marlene laughed, rolling her eyes.
‘Most men haven’t got a clue, have they, when they’re left to their own devices. Too used to having everything done for them,’ the nurse quipped, trying to make light of Jamie’s abysmal attempt of helping her.
‘At least it’s warm.’ Rebecca shrugs, not wanting to appear ungrateful as she holds the thick woollen jumper up to her face and breathes in the familiar scent of home from the fabric.
Feeling the warm wool against her skin, it’s only then that she realises she’s shivering, her arms prickled with a spray of goosebumps. She feels so cold that it’s hard to imagine ever really warming up. Maybe the jumper isn’t such a bad choice after all.
Besides, anything is better than this hospital nightgown they must have given her to change into. Though she has no memory of changing into it. They must have changed her clothing when she was out cold.
She scans the room, wondering for a second where the clothes are she arrived in. Her coat, and nightdress. Torn and streaked with mud and bloody smears.
Marlene reads her thoughts.
‘Your husband took home all of your dirty clothes too.’
Rebecca nodded.
So he came back? He must have.
He must have gone home to fetch some clean belongings.
He didn’t just leave her here once. He’d done it twice.
‘You’ve got an appointment with the psychiatrist this morning. So as soon as you’re ready, I’ll take you down,’ Marlene says, the smile still fixed on her face as she starts busying herself again, pulling back the curtains and tidying up the breakfast tray.
‘I’ll get washed and dressed,’ Rebecca says, glad to retreat to the sanctuary of the en suite bathroom. She’s eager to get her appointment over and done with so that she can get out of this place.
Pulling the nightgown over her head she can’t get ready quickly enough.
Soon this will all be over, she tells herself.
Once she’s seen the psychiatrist, once she’s explained exactly what’s been going on, they’ll understand. They’ll let her go home.
To Ella.
And Ella will be missing her. Nowhere near as much as Rebecca’s missing her though. The pain of being away from her baby catches her off guard then, so acutely she has to steady herself against the edge of the sink so her legs don’t give way.
Rebecca washes her face, splashing cold water onto her skin, before gazing at the sallow, tired reflection staring back at her in the mirror.
She looks like a complete stranger. Her eyes, dark and puffy.
Her hair, unbrushed and wild. Her face devoid of any make-up. Jamie didn’t pack any, she has no mask to hide behind.
She wonders how she became this woman.
How she got here.
But deep down, she knows.
Of course, she does. She knows exactly what got her here.
It was always the same. No matter how fast or far she tried to run from her past, it always caught up with her.
Only this morning isn’t the time or the place for her to reminisce.
She needs to make herself look presentable. To try to look at least half human.
Scraping her hair back into a ponytail on the top of her head, she almost laughs at the whole concept of beauty sleep. Because last night she’d slept well, better than she had in a long time, yet judging by the state she looked today, the benefits of it had been completely wasted on her.
Outside the bathroom, she can hear Marlene flitting around making the bed and fluffing up the pillows. Killing time as she waits for her, but Rebecca has no intention of keeping her waiting any longer.
Pulling at the door handle, she strolls back into the bedroom feeling somewhat more ‘Rebecca’ now that she’s washed and dressed.
It’s time.
She’s ready to go and see the doctor.
She’s ready to get home to her baby.