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Chapter no 60

The Silent Patient

SO THERE YOU HAVE IT. Alicia Berenson didnโ€™t kill her husband. A faceless intruder broke into their home and, in an apparently motiveless act of malice, shot Gabriel dead before vanishing into the night. Alicia was entirely innocent.

Thatโ€™s if you believe her explanation. I didnโ€™t. Not a word of it.

Apart from her obvious inconsistencies and inaccuraciesโ€”such as that Gabriel was not shot six times, but only five, one of the bullets being fired at the ceiling; nor was Alicia discovered tied to a chair, but standing in the middle of the room, having slashed her wrists. Alicia made no mention to me of the manโ€™s untying her, nor did she explain why she hadnโ€™t told the police this version of events from the start. No, I knew she was lying. I was annoyed that she had lied, badly and pointlessly, to my face. For a second I wondered if she was testing me, seeing whether I accepted the story? If so, I was determined to give nothing away.

I sat there in silence.

Unusually, Alicia spoke first. โ€œIโ€™m tired. I want to stop.โ€ I nodded. I couldnโ€™t object.

โ€œLetโ€™s carry on tomorrow,โ€ she said. โ€œIs there more to say?โ€

โ€œYes. One last thing.โ€ โ€œVery well. Tomorrow.โ€

Yuri was waiting in the corridor. He escorted Alicia to her room, and I went up to my office.

As I have said, itโ€™s been my practice for years to transcribe a session as soon as itโ€™s ended. The ability to accurately record what has been said

during the past fifty minutes is of paramount importance to a therapistโ€” otherwise much detail is forgotten and the immediacy of the emotions lost.

I sat at my desk and wrote down, as fast as I could, everything that had transpired between us. The moment I finished, I marched through the corridors, clutching my pages of notes.

I knocked on Diomedesโ€™s door. There was no response, so I knocked again. Still no answer. I opened the door a crackโ€”and there was Diomedes, fast asleep on his narrow couch.

โ€œProfessor?โ€ And again, louder: โ€œProfessor Diomedes?โ€ He woke with a start and sat up quickly. He blinked at me. โ€œWhat is it? Whatโ€™s wrong?โ€

โ€œI need to talk to you. Should I come back later?โ€

Diomedes frowned and shook his head. โ€œI was having a brief siesta. I always do, after lunch. It helps me get through the afternoon. It becomes a necessity as you get older.โ€ He yawned and stood up. โ€œCome in, Theo. Sit down. By the looks of you, itโ€™s important.โ€

โ€œI think it is, yes.โ€ โ€œAlicia?โ€

I nodded. I sat in front of the desk. He sat down behind it. His hair was sticking up to one side, and he still looked half-asleep.

โ€œAre you sure I shouldnโ€™t come back later?โ€

Diomedes shook his head. He poured himself a glass of water from a jug. โ€œIโ€™m awake now. Go on. What it is?โ€

โ€œIโ€™ve been with Alicia, talking.โ€ฆ I need some supervision.โ€

Diomedes nodded. He was looking more awake by the second, and more interested. โ€œGo on.โ€

I started reading from my notes. I took him through the entire session. I repeated her words as accurately as I could and relayed the story she had told me: how the man whoโ€™d been spying on her broke into the house, took her prisoner, and shot and killed Gabriel.

When I finished, there was a long pause. Diomedesโ€™s expression gave little away. He pulled a box of cigars out of his desk drawer. He took out a little silver guillotine. He popped the end of a cigar into it and sliced it off.

โ€œLetโ€™s start with the countertransference. Tell me about your emotional experience. Start at the beginning. As she was telling you her story, what kind of feelings were coming up?โ€

I thought about it for a moment. โ€œI felt excited, I suppose.โ€ฆ And anxious. Afraid.โ€

โ€œAfraid? Was it your fear, or hers?โ€ โ€œBoth, I imagine.โ€

โ€œAnd what were you afraid of?โ€

โ€œIโ€™m not sure. Fear of failure, perhaps. I have a lot riding on this, as you know.โ€

Diomedes nodded. โ€œWhat else?โ€

โ€œFrustration too. I feel frustrated quite frequently during our sessions.โ€ โ€œAnd angry?โ€

โ€œYes, I suppose so.โ€

โ€œYou feel like a frustrated father, dealing with a difficult child?โ€ โ€œYes. I want to help herโ€”but I donโ€™t know if she wants to be helped.โ€

He nodded. โ€œStay with the feeling of anger. Talk more about it. How does it manifest itself?โ€

I hesitated. โ€œWell, I often leave the sessions with a splitting headache.โ€ Diomedes nodded. โ€œYes, exactly. It has to come out one way or another.

โ€˜A trainee who is not anxious will be sick.โ€™ Who was it who said that?โ€ โ€œI donโ€™t know.โ€ I shrugged. โ€œIโ€™m sickย andย anxious.โ€

Diomedes smiled. โ€œYouโ€™re also no longer a traineeโ€”although those feelings never go away entirely.โ€ He picked up his cigar. โ€œLetโ€™s go outside for a smoke.โ€

* * *

We went onto the fire escape. Diomedes puffed on his cigar for a moment, mulling things over. Eventually he reached a conclusion.

โ€œSheโ€™s lying, you know.โ€

โ€œYou mean about the man killing Gabriel? I thought so too.โ€ โ€œNot just that.โ€

โ€œThen what?โ€

โ€œAll of it. The whole cock-and-bull story. I donโ€™t believe a single word of it.โ€

I must have looked rather taken aback. I had suspected heโ€™d disbelieve some elements of Aliciaโ€™s tale. I hadnโ€™t expected him to reject the whole thing.

โ€œYou donโ€™t believe in the man?โ€

โ€œNo, I donโ€™t. I donโ€™t believe he ever existed. Itโ€™s a fantasy. From start to finish.โ€

โ€œWhat makes you so sure?โ€

Diomedes gave me a strange smile. โ€œCall it my intuition. Years of professional experience with fantasists.โ€ I tried to interrupt but he forestalled me with a wave of his hand. โ€œOf course, I donโ€™t expect you to agree, Theo. Youโ€™re in deep with Alicia, and your feelings are bound up with hers like a tangled ball of wool. That is the purpose of a supervision like thisโ€”to help you unpick the strands of woolโ€”to see what is yours and what is hers. And once you gain some distance, and clarity, I suspect you will feel rather differently about your experience with Alicia Berenson.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m not sure what you mean.โ€

โ€œWell, to be blunt, I fear she has been performing for you. Manipulating you. And itโ€™s a performance that I believe has been tailored specifically to appeal to your chivalric โ€ฆ and, letโ€™s say, romantic instincts. It was obvious to me from the start that you intended to rescue her. Iโ€™m quite sure it was obvious to Alicia too. Hence her seduction of you.โ€

โ€œYou sound like Christian. She hasnโ€™t seduced me. I am perfectly capable of withstanding a patientโ€™s sexual projections. Donโ€™t underestimate me, Professor.โ€

โ€œDonโ€™t underestimateย her. Sheโ€™s giving an excellent performance.โ€ Diomedes shook his head and peered up at the gray clouds. โ€œThe vulnerable woman under attack, alone, in need of protection. Alicia has cast herself as the victim and this mystery man as the villain. Whereas in fact Alicia and the man are one and the same. She killed Gabriel. She was guiltyโ€”and she is still refusing to accept that guilt. So she splits, dissociates, fantasizesโ€” Alicia becomes the innocent victim and you are her protector. And by

colluding with this fantasy you are allowing her to disown all responsibility.โ€

โ€œI donโ€™t agree with that. I donโ€™t believe she is lying, consciously, anyway. At the very least, Alicia believes her story to be true.โ€

โ€œYes, she believes it. Alicia is under attackโ€”but from her own psyche, not the outside world.โ€

I knew that wasnโ€™t true, but there was no point in arguing further. I stubbed out my cigarette.

โ€œHow do you think I should proceed?โ€

โ€œYou must force her to confront the truth. Only then will she have a hope of recovery. You must refuse point-blank to accept her story. Challenge her. Demand she tell you the truth.โ€

โ€œAnd do you think she will?โ€

He shrugged. โ€œThatโ€โ€”he took a long drag on his cigarโ€”โ€œis anyoneโ€™s guess.โ€

โ€œVery well. Iโ€™ll talk to her tomorrow. Iโ€™ll confront her.โ€

Diomedes looked slightly uneasy and opened his mouth as if he was about to say something further. But he changed his mind. He nodded and stamped on his cigar with an air of finality. โ€œTomorrow.โ€

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