Читать книгу The Doctor - Lisa Stone, Lisa Stone - Страница 18

Inside the house, Alisha sat on the floor in the cloakroom, cold and sick with fear, willing Amit to return and release her, but at the same time dreading having to face him. His behaviour was becoming more and more alarming with each passing week, frighteningly so now. She no longer recognized the man she’d married. But had she ever really known him, even back then? She doubted it. She’d had to trust him and, as far as she’d known, they’d had no secrets, but now most of his life excluded her. She was sorry she’d failed to give him healthy children, but did she really deserve the punishment he meted out? The abuse – verbal and physical. It was frightening. She spent most of her time terrified of him. And the grim determination on his face when he’d locked her in here said he would stop at nothing to make her do as he wanted.

She rubbed her wrist and looked at her upper arm. Bruises were already forming under the skin. She bruised easily now, just as their son, Daniel, had done as the disease progressed. His tissue breaking down, blood capillaries rupturing, his skin sloughing off. Even when she bathed him and was so gentle, he still bled.

It was a cruel disease and she could understand why Amit had become obsessed with finding a cure, just as other parents of children with rare genetic conditions had. Michaela and Augusto Odone had produced Lorenzo’s oil. She’d seen the film of the same name. Years of research and then a breakthrough. Perhaps Amit might find a cure, but there was no excuse for treating her as he did. He was so unpredictable and violent.

She knew he had a right to blame her for the compromises he’d had to make now she’d fallen ill too. Once she died he would be free to marry a healthy woman who could give him normal children, for she doubted he would find a cure in time to save her. She thought he doubted it too. Hence all that nonsense about freezing her until a cure had been found. What a macabre thought! She’d been shocked that he’d even considered it. It made her skin creep. She couldn’t imagine anything worse – replacing her blood with preserving fluid and then suspended upside down in a cylinder when she should be at peace in the earth. It was the stuff of nightmares. Yet many had signed up to it and had paid huge amounts to be stored. Thankfully Amit had finally taken no for an answer and had put away the literature and stopped talking about it.

But his behaviour was even worse now. Sometimes injecting her to sedate her or locking her in. But why? Why was she in here and for how long? It was the third time he’d shut her in the cloakroom. She wished she had someone to confide in. Estranged from her parents, she knew they wouldn’t sympathize. Not after everything that had happened between them and Amit. She could hear her mother’s admonishing voice: you’ve made your bed, so you’ll have to lie in it.

It had crossed her mind that maybe Emily next door would be a good confidante. She wondered if she might even suspect that Amit didn’t always treat her right. She seemed perceptive and, being at home with her child during the day, had perhaps seen things the other neighbours hadn’t. And the way Emily kept inviting her into her house, and when she’d finally accepted, she’d asked if Amit looked after her and treated her well. A pity she hadn’t had the courage to admit that Amit treated her badly and she was petrified of him, for she doubted Emily would invite her again, not after staying such a short time and leaving so abruptly. Her behaviour had been rude, but she couldn’t tell Emily the real reason she had only stayed fifteen minutes. Pity. It would have been reassuring, comforting, to have her knowing, even looking out for her.