Sam regarded Will’s worried countenance and sighed. ‘I do understand your reluctance to go through it all again, but I just wonder how much longer Kate can go on without either a complete collapse, or . . .’
‘Or what?’
‘I don’t know. But something has to give at some point. It could manifest itself in one of a dozen different ways. At the moment, she would probably be classified as neurotic — she still has a hold on reality, and sometimes her actions and thought patterns are quite “normal.” She even admits to you that there is a problem, doesn’t she?’
Will nodded. ‘In those moments when she’s fatigued and low, yes — in her own way. She says things like, “Poor love, it’s not easy, is it?” That sort of thing.’
‘So, at this point it can still be managed — with proper psychological care.’ Sam rubbed his eyes. ‘My fear is that if left untreated, it may take over her whole personality, and she will lose that contact with reality. When that happens, the problem becomes a psychosis, which is a very different ball game indeed. As things are now, Will, you can’t rule out anything, and you have to remember that her “lows” are worse than anything you or I have ever experienced.’
They sat in silence for a time. Will again went and checked on his wife.
As he walked back into the kitchen, Will had a sudden thought. ‘Oh no! Sophie and Philip will be back in the area the day after tomorrow. Whatever do I say to her? Sophie will be so disappointed if I cry off.’ He anxiously rubbed his hands together. ‘And, Sam? What was all that stuff Kate came out with about it being too late for Sophie? It sounded so threatening.’
Sam crossed his legs and sat back. ‘She has this fixation about the house being a danger to children. It’s simply that. Sophie has visited Holland House and that means that Sophie is “earmarked,” so to speak.’
Will sat back down in his chair. ‘I find this rubbish about the house having some sort of wicked desire to devour children totally ridiculous. It’s a load of crap. Houses are houses, nothing more than bricks and mortar.’
Sam Page nodded. ‘Of course they are, but you have to recognise that Kate isn’t like you. She is sensitive, creative, gifted and idealistic, plus she is vulnerable and highly open to suggestion.’ He exhaled. ‘Let me give you an example of how different people react to the same situation. Did you ever get a shout, late at night, and when you got to the place, you found it really eerie?’
Will shrugged. ‘Not often but, yes, it has happened once or twice.’
‘Can you recall any occasion in particular?’ Sam asked.
Will frowned. ‘Yeah. It happened long before I went into CID. I was on the beat with a new bloke, a young chap called, er, Tony — that’s it, Tony Skates. I think he was a bit nervous about being out on the streets at night for the first time. We got a call to check out a possible break-in at an old nursing home. It was a weird, rambling sort of place, set back off the road and surrounded by lawns and big old trees. Only part of the building was in use, and that was about to be closed down. We checked with the warden, who had reported someone creeping about in the grounds, and we made off in the general direction the intruder had taken. We searched everywhere but there was nothing. We were just going back to the main house when Tony thought he saw a light coming from the deserted part of the building. There was an old door that wouldn’t budge when we tried it, but we found a broken window and got in that way. We found ourselves in some kind of small chapel — you know, like some big old properties had?’
‘Like a family chapel?’ Matt said.
‘That’s right. The altar and all the carved wooden pews were still there. There were even some moth-eaten tapestries with coats of arms on them and a few dirty old candle holders. It smelt dreadful, really musty. Anyway, there was no one there, and the only door that apparently led into the house itself had been nailed up.’
Will paused, back in that old chapel again. ‘I don’t know whether it was the young lad’s nervousness affecting me as well, but we were just about to climb back out of the window when, well, I had this awful feeling of being watched. I was a hundred per cent sure we were not alone in there, even though we had searched it thoroughly. We both ran out of that place like the clappers. It was weird.’
Sam gave a low chuckle. ‘So, that was the response of a “no nonsense,” hard-nut copper. Now put your Kate into exactly the same situation and try to imagine how she would have felt.’
‘Good Lord. With her vivid imagination, she’d have flipped!’ Will puffed his cheeks out. ‘And this salt marsh has a similar, ancient sort of feel to it. I am sure it’s Whisper Fen that’s influencing her paintings.’
‘Ah, the paintings! Laura’s friend was quite disturbed by Kate’s pictures, and he wholly endorses our findings. I didn’t tell him anything about her history, but he diagnosed the probable root of the problem in minutes. The last picture threw him.’ Sam shifted around uncomfortably. ‘He said they are in no way connected, and were we absolutely sure that it was by the same artist as the other “dark” ones?’
‘Couldn’t he give you any clue as to why she painted it?’ asked Matt.
‘None at all. He tried to analyse it as a piece in its own right, but because he had already seen the other pictures, he found it very difficult. He said it depicted overwhelming fear, but whether it was for herself or someone else, he couldn’t tell.’
‘I did wonder whether it was one of the Holland family, and Kate had put her in modern-day clothing,’ suggested Will.
‘That’s very possible. Oh, and before I forget, the art therapist told me she had considerable talent. He said he rarely had a chance to examine such gifted work in his line of business.’
‘Her work is brilliant, it’s just so sad that they’re all about her nightmares,’ Will said.
‘It could be her saving, my boy. All the time she is painting, she is expressing her fears in the way she knows best. If she can’t actually talk about it, at least it’s not all being bottled up inside her.’
‘So, what now? I still cannot bring myself to turn her over to a hospital. I have to give it one more try.’
‘Very well. But I strongly urge you not to let things go any further. If she gets any worse, you will have to do something about it. You have her safety and her sanity to consider.’ He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. ‘It is not unheard of for patients with Kate’s problems to harm themselves. I know you mean well, but just be aware that she could be a danger to herself.’
Will was silent. If only someone would come along and take all the responsibility away from him. But he knew the ultimate decision about Kate would be his. ‘The buck stops here,’ he whispered.
‘I’m afraid so, my friend. Now, tell me what sort of frame of mind will Kate be in when she wakes, judging by her previous moods after a long sleep?’
‘Well, strangely, she is usually still tired. She’s lethargic and tearful for a couple of hours, and then she goes into overdrive until the next “low.”’
‘Is she fairly reasonable when she is in that après sleep state?’ the doctor asked.