‘And what time do you go to bed?’
‘Nine to nine-thirty in the week. Ten at the weekend.’
Elena’s hand clenched tight in her lap. So far everything was tying in with what Cameron Ryall had said in their twenty minute pre-session with the Ryalls: ‘I wouldn’t have gone to Lorena’s room at all if my wife hadn’t been incapacitated on both occasions. She was down with the flu and took to her bed early for most of the week.’ But maybe something would come out now, Elena thought, as Nadine came on to what had actually happened with Ryall on those visits.
Lorena looked troubled, her eyelids flickering heavily as if she were trying to focus on an indefinable object slightly to one side on the floor.
Nadine prompted, ‘It’s okay, take your time… starting with the first visit. What happened then?’
Finally: ‘That first time not much, really.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We talked about the problem at school, and I kept telling him it was nothing. I was eager for him to go, you see. But it took a while before he was finally convinced… and then he reached out and stroked my brow, saying “You’d tell me if something was wrong, or if this happens again, wouldn’t you”.’ Lorena looked directly at Nadine and then quickly down again. ‘I answered, “Yes, of course”… but I think he sensed I was nervous about him touching me, and he quickly took the hand away.’
‘Now, and this you should think carefully about, Lorena: did Mr Ryall touch you anywhere else on the body that night?’
‘No,’ Lorena answered quickly, though hesitantly.
Nadine stayed looking at her directly for a moment before the next question, even though Lorena engaged eye contact only briefly. ‘And did Mr Ryall stay in your room for long after that?’
‘No. He left almost straightaway then.’
‘I see.’ Nadine looked down finally and made some notes.
Elena shared the disappointment she felt hit Nadine in that moment. But she also sensed a deft, purposeful circling in by Nadine, and unconsciously she found herself sitting forward, expectant, as Nadine came on to Ryall’s second room visit. More had apparently happened then.
‘Did he soothe your brow again on that occasion?’
‘No. He shook me gently out of the dream by my shoulder.’ Lorena crossed her chest with her right hand to her left shoulder. ‘Then he held me by the hand, or maybe the wrist — I can’t remember exactly — and told me, ‘It’s okay… it’s okay.’
The room fell deathly silent, both of them wrapped up in the explanation, anticipating the revelation of what Ryall did next. But Lorena trailed off then, and Nadine had to prompt, ‘Then what?’
‘Everything wasn’t too clear then…’ Lorena shook her head helplessly. ‘Except in the dream.’
‘The dream?’ Nadine asked incredulously. ‘What, another dream?’
‘Yes, yes… But it was different this time,’ Lorena grappled to explain, sensing mounting doubt from Nadine. ‘This time it wasn’t like before with me trapped in the sewers, in the darkness… This time Mr Ryall was touching me, his hand going lower down my body, with him still saying, “it’s okay… it’s okay.” Trying to comfort me.’
Elena noticed that Nadine seemed caught aback by the plea in Lorena’s voice that the dream was somehow significant, when very obviously Nadine was thinking just the opposite. Nadine held up one hand: a stop sign. ‘Let me get this clear. Did Mr Ryall at any time touch you like this outside of the dream? Were you at any point — if only for a minute — awake when any of this happened?’
‘I don’t know… I…’ Lorena was flustered by Nadine’s freshly assertive tone.
Elena felt for Lorena: she was only a child, and bad dreams had been associated with so much of the sorting and filing of her troubled past. It was probably difficult for her to grasp how anyone else wouldn’t attach the same importance to them. She was clutching again at the hem of her T-shirt, though this time Elena noticed her hands were shaking. Finally: ‘No, I… I can’t remember being awake when this happened.’
Nadine looked round briefly to Elena. A ‘we won’t get anywhere with this’ expression. She pressed again with Lorena, ‘This is important… think hard.’
Lorena’s eyes flickered, again searching for illusive clarity — but again nothing slotted into place. ‘I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I don’t think I was awake then.’
‘Don’t think?’
Lorena closed her eyes for a second as she reluctantly let loose the last strand. ‘I’m pretty sure I wasn’t…’ She swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry.’
The furthest Lorena was likely to go towards denial, but it was enough: there was simply no niche left from which they could claw back. Elena could see it all slipping away. Nadine’s shoulders sagged, her pen suddenly frozen from continued notes. After all, there was only one thing left to write: CASE CLOSED. Elena felt suddenly desperate that it might all end here. She decided to intervene.
‘Lorena, this is twice now you’ve called us. But if all of this is happening only in your dreams — we just can’t help you.’
‘But sometimes it seems so… so real,’ Lorena protested. ‘As if it is actually happening. And it frightens me. I told you — I don’t want him to come to my room anymore.’ She shook her head in annoyance, as if throwing the blame back to them.
‘We told Mr Ryall to stay away from your room,’ Nadine offered. ‘But on these two occasions your stepmother was ill. I’m sure he’d stay away otherwise, so it shouldn’t be a big problem.’ Nadine bit at her bottom lip, and Elena read the unspoken thought that could have been added: But what to do when Mrs Ryall was ill again?
Elena felt a twinge of panic. It seemed wrong for it to all end like this now, as if they’d hardly tried at all. She pictured Nicola Ryall sat with her hands clasped tight together, saying less than even last time. Her mood nervous, agitated. Everything had tied in so neatly: his wife’s illness, then Ryall mentioning that he was sure it was all just in Lorena’s imagination, possibly linked to her continuing problem with nightmares. ‘It’s probably all just a call for attention. I assure you nothing untoward is actually happening.’ Now both statements had been supported.
Nadine sighed, concurring, ‘Elena is right in that we can’t do much with what we have.’ Nadine forced a re-assuring smile that came across more thinly than she’d have probably liked. ‘But at least if all of this is only in your mind, we have the comfort that nothing is really happening. You’re not at risk.’
Elena bit at her bottom lip. Her own mother sat there saying nothing, afraid to go against her father. The same obdurate, dogmatic grip in which he’d held nearly all the family and had guided so many of their lives. So real. Elena wondered if Lorena was trying to tell them without really telling them. The dreams were a safe mid-ground. ‘If something’s happening, you’ve got to tell us,’ Elena implored. ‘Has Mr Ryall been talking to you, telling you not to say anything?’
Lorena’s brow knitted and her lips parted as if she were about to speak. Nadine wheeled around on Elena, staring daggers: a ‘that’s strictly off-limits’ look. ‘You don’t have to answer that,’ she prompted Lorena sharply. But Lorena had already lost whatever thread was there, her eyes flickering uncomfortably for a moment before looking down.
‘I’m sorry,’ Elena said. ‘She just seems so confused, and I suppose I’m scrambling for reasons why.’
A fresh breath, and Nadine continued winding things down, asking Lorena calmly if, while they were still there, there was anything else she wanted to mention. A second’s thought, and Lorena shook her head — but Elena could still see the uncertain shadows in her eyes, and she thought how troubled Lorena must have been to call her now twice. The intense concern that had made her race back early from Bosnia for this meeting now. Running breathlessly through the chine with Lorena, trying desperately to get her out of the darkness and into the light. Into the light. Only in her mind. Confused. She leapt for the only remaining door she could see still partly open.