Free Home Before Dark by Charles Maclean Page A

groaned. 'Ed, I see a lot of patients who are involved
in online relationships. They all “hit it off in some mysterious
way”. Strangers project their daydreams and fantasies onto
each other. It’s called affective transference. But don’t underestimate
the seductive power of a wishful e-mail. Cyber affairs
can cause havoc’
'It’s not even close to being an affair. I can walk away from
this any time, just hit the delete switch . . . And so can she.’
He looked sceptical. 'Have you told Laura?’
'What for? I’m not playing away from home. You know I’d
never do anything to hurt Laura. I said there’s no one else
and I meant it.’
'Then why are you telling me?’
'Her life is so different to mine half the time I might as
well be talking to somebody from another planet. And yet it
feels … I don’t know, I feel I can be myself with her.’ I
shifted in my seat. 'She helps me to forget.’
'The analogy is opening up to a stranger on a train, someone
you know you’ll never meet again.’ It was the doctor speaking
now. 'You’ve had a rough year of it, Ed. It’s not hard to see
why this happened. Only you’re wrong if you think there can
be intimacy without strings. I don’t like to preach, but the
person you should be . . .’
I cut him off. 'Then don’t.’
'You asked my advice.'Will took off his glasses and rubbed
his eyes. I was braced for his midlife crisis lecture, but all I
got was a warning. 'She could be setting you up for blackmail,
some kind of scam. Think what would happen if this came
out.’
'If what came out? It’s not even an issue,’ I said calmly.
'You’re flying blind, Ed. People find not what they want
on the Web, but what they wish for: that’s why it can be
dangerous. Just remember you can’t see the expression on her
face when she’s typing to you.’
Will glanced at his watch, then leaned back in his chair
and put his hands behind his head. 'Your fifty minutes are
up. I have other patients to see.’
'Very funny.’ I made a one-fingered gesture.
'So what are you going to do?’ he asked as he walked me
to the door. 'How are you going to find this person?’
For a moment I thought we were still talking about the
girl.
    In the car, on the way from the Maudsley to my office, I
booted up my laptop and checked my mailbox again. I’d sent
Jelena a message earlier asking if she’d arrived safely in DC.
Her reply was short and breezy – you didn’t have to see the
expression on her face to know that the friendliness was
genuine.
Will had got her all wrong.
    adorablejoker: Well, hi right back at ya! I’m doing ok. slept the whole way
on the train – could’ve used some company, it’s hot as hell down here, looks
like I’ll only be gone one week instead of two. I gotta go now. take it easy,
Ed. JELLY
    Take it easy, Ed? I smiled.
I’d lain awake half the night rewinding and playing back
in my head those same words from the conversation on the
mound. Trying to picture the circumstances of the sinister
thuds and mumblings I’d overheard.
I wrote myself a memo: Phil to ask his diagnostic people
at Secure Solutions is it possible to trace a call made to a
mobile phone when the number has been withheld? If yes,
when can I expect a result?
The only person in Florence I’d given my number to (apart
from Bailey) was Sam Metcalf. I wasn’t sure if there was a
connection, the call could have originated anywhere, but I
could see now why Sam might have had cold feet and asked
me not to get in touch with her again: she was afraid one of
us was being watched.
'Take it easy, Ed.’ Had I really heard that hoarse 'Ed’, or
could the last, upwardly inflected syllable have been an 'eh’?
'Take it easy, eh?’ I’d told the caller he had a wrong number.
But, either way, I felt sure contact had been deliberate.
I sat back, lit an unfiltered Gauloise and, gazing out at the
rain-slick streets of Olympia, turned up the volume on Bob
Marley’s 'One Love’. I thought about Jelly deliquescing in
the