Читать книгу Obsession: The bestselling psychological thriller with a shocking ending - Amanda Robson, Amanda Robson - Страница 39

Another week gone by. Saturday morning again. Getting up at 6 a.m. to look after the children so that Carly can have a lie-in. Carly, so exhausted recently. Thank goodness for CBeebies, even if its name sounds like baby dribble. I sit dozing on the sofa for hours, curled up with my offspring. Enjoying the warmth of them, the scent of them, as they watch TV. When Carly eventually staggers downstairs in her pink fluffy dressing gown I extricate myself and step into the kitchen to make her a cup of tea. She follows me. We sit at our antique pine table sipping Earl Grey.

‘Did you sleep OK?’ I ask.

‘No.’

She is sitting, head in her hands, tears pricking at the edges of her eyes.

‘I’ve been awake since four.’

‘Carly, you need help.’ I pause.

‘Because I can’t sleep?’

‘Because you’re depressed. You need to go and see a psychiatrist.’

‘Of course I don’t need a psychiatrist.’

‘You could just go for an assessment.’

‘Why should I?’ There is a pause. ‘Why do I need a psychiatrist when I’ve got you?’

‘I’m a GP. I only know a little about depression.’

‘Why do you think I’m depressed?’

I reach across the table to hold her hand. ‘Because the light has gone out of you.’

Tears begin to stream down her cheeks. She squeezes my hand so tight I fear she might break it.

‘Please, Rob. Promise me you won’t send me to someone. Can’t you see that it will destroy me?’

‘Why will getting help destroy you?’

‘Because … because …’ she stammers. ‘I need to cope on my own.’

I see a flash of determination in her eyes. The determination that I fear will be her downfall.