Page 68 of The Stranger in Room Six

My Listener work gives me a purpose. There’s nothing like hearing other people’s problems to get your own in perspective.

Last week, a woman told me how her brother had tried to rape her, so she’d smashed his head in with a hammer.

Somehow, she’s the one who’s ended up in jail and he got off scot-free.

Another was a forger. ‘It’s surprisingly easy when you learn the trade,’ she says.

‘Let me know if you ever need any help.’

I don’t think so. But you don’t make judgements as a Listener. You just lend an ear.

Then comes the day when Linda Wall turns up in the Listener’s Room.

‘I’m upset with you,’ she says from behind the screen, in a voice that sends a chill down my spine.

I look around for the chaplain, who is back at work now. He’d been here a few minutes ago to supervise but he’s disappeared.

I could ask her how she knows that I am tonight’s Listener but there seems little point.

‘Why?’ I say.

‘Because you’ve seen me enough times since my daughter died and you’ve never come up to express your sympathies.’

‘But I did! Just after it happened. You ignored me.’

‘I was fucking out of it with grief. But you didn’t try again.’

True. This was partly because Mouse told me to keep my tough image going, but also because I felt guilty with relief that my own girls were safe.

‘I didn’t know what to say,’ I gulp.

I hear what sounds like a snort. ‘Call yourself a Listener?’

‘Would it help if I said sorry now?’

‘Too bloody late for that.’

There might be a screen between us but I can just picture her cold eyes locked on mine.

‘You see, Belinda, grief can drive you mad. You might have tasted that for the short time when you thought it was one of your girls. But I have to live with this madness every day, every minute, every second of my life from now on. And when people say the wrong thing to me, or they don’t say anything at all, they go straight onto my blacklist. Do you know what that means? ’

My mouth goes dry. I try to remember my training. How you should invite people to share their emotions rather than tell them what to do.

‘Would you like to tell me?’

‘That’s why I’m here. What it means is that I resent people like you whose daughters are still alive. It means that I wish they were dead, too, so that their mothers had to feel what I feel. It means that your daughters need to watch out. Gillian and Elspeth, isn’t it? I know where they are.’

Then she names the private estate where Derek lives.

I try to hide my horror and fear by sounding aggressive. ‘Are you threatening me?’

‘That’s what it sounds like, doesn’t it?’

‘I could go to the governor about this.’

‘If you do, you won’t just lose one daughter. You’ll lose both.’

‘Please, Linda,’ I beg. ‘There must be something I can do to stop you.’

My words sound clear but my insides are churning with fear.

‘Maybe.’

I clutch at the word.

‘What? Tell me. I’ll do anything.’

My previous bravado has disappeared.

‘You can start by giving me half of every meal.’

‘Done,’ I say.

‘You will always let me go first in the phone queue if I am behind you.’

‘No problem.’

‘And you can get me a razor blade.’

‘How am I going to do that?’

‘It’s up to you.’

‘What will you do with it?’

‘Do you honestly think I’m going to tell you? You’ve got until next Friday. Give it to me at gym.’

There’s a noise behind us. The chaplain is coming back. He makes an ‘all right?’ face at me. I nod.

‘I hope this has helped,’ I say in a tone that makes it clear we are no longer alone.

‘Thank you.’ Linda’s voice might sound normal to someone who doesn’t know it but I can sense the mockery. ‘You’ve been a great Listener.’