The Mistress's Revenge Read Online Free

and nothing but the truth anyway, to be honest. She was much more concerned about the form she got me to fill in that listed lots of different scenarios and I had to circle the frequency with which they happened to me. When she asked me the one about feeling like I’d be better off dead, she looked very saddened when I circled option 3, “a lot of the time.” I was glad then, I hadn’t gone for my first choice, option 4, “all or almost all of the time,” which was far closer to the truth. Who wouldn’t feel they’d be better off dead if given the choice?
    Between my snivels, I asked the sympathetic doctor for “something to help me sleep.”
    “Oh dear, there’s nothing quite so awful as going without sleep, is there?” she said, and her long blonde hair made a little whooshing noise through the air as she shook her head sadly to emphasize how very sincerely she was empathizing.
    “But you know sleeping pills are a very quick fix. They’re not actually addressing the underlying issues.”
    As she said the word “underlying” her voice dropped suddenly very low, as if it were something a little distasteful.
    “So we don’t really tend to prescribe them. We prefer to look at alternatives like cognitive behavioral therapy or, in some cases, antidepressants.”
    I stared at her blearily through the tissue that was clamped to my nose and asked: “Will either of those work in time for me to get some sleep tonight?”
    The young doctor laughed as if I’d said something quite funny. “I’m afraid the antidepressants won’t kick in for a good few weeks, and therapy is pretty much a long-term proposition,” she said kindly.
    “So I have to wait a good few weeks before I can get a decent night’s sleep?” I asked her stupidly.
    She did the scrunchy lip thing again.
    “Poor old you,” she said a second time, at which point I obviously started blubbing all over again. “You’re having an awful time, aren’t you? But I’m afraid you’re just going to have to grit your teeth and get through these next few weeks. Just keep telling yourself that it’s not for long and in just a few weeks you will feel better.”
    Just a few weeks?
    Is she totally mad?
    I had such a lovely time with Susan last night. She’s such fun. I can quite see why you married her.
    I’m trying to decide which was the best part, but you know I rather think it might have been getting ready. Does that sound silly? You see,all the time I was getting showered and dithering over what to wear, I was imagining what might be going on in your house, and what might be going through your mind as you watched Susan getting dressed up to come and meet me. Did you try to issue some subtle warning, I wonder? Did you say “You know, Sally’s never been terribly stable’? Or your favorite: “She’s one of those sad, damaged women.” Yes, I rather think you might have. Susan will, of course, have been brisk but kind. “Oh you’re just an old misogynist,” she might have chided. “Sally’s just a little bit socially awkward. Anyway, I feel sorry for her.” Susan is always collecting lost causes. It was one of the things you used to complain about most bitterly. “Oh, I expect one of Susan’s misfits will be hanging around at supper,” you’d sigh. Or “We had to take one of Susan’s dysfunctionals with us on holiday.”
    We started off in the Coach and Horses on Greek Street. Oh, how silly of me. Of course you know where the Coach and Horses is. It was with you I first went there. Now, for goodness’ sake, don’t read anything into my choice of venue. It just happened to be the first thing that popped into my head when I was arranging things with Susan. It’s very convenient, that’s all. Central for both of us. I can’t pretend that the irony of it completely escaped me, however, and I admit I did have a little chuckle when I steered Susan to that exact same table where we sat that one time when you asked me to marry you. Perhaps