before I go to sleep16(文稿)

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I wonder if Ben has read them, whether he looks through my things. I decide there is no reason he would. 

The other days are blank. No birthdays, no nights out, no parties. Does this really describe my life?

‘OK,’ I say. He explains that he will come and pick me up, that he knows where I live and will be there in an hour.

‘But my husband—’ I say.
‘It’s OK. We’ll be back long before he gets in from work. I promise. Trust me.’

The clock on the mantelpiece chimes and I glance at it. It is old-fashioned, a large dial in a wooden case, edged with roman numerals. It reads eleven thirty. 

Next to it sits a silver key for winding it, something that I suppose Ben must remember to do every evening. 

It looks old enough to be an antique, and I wonder how we came to own such a clock. 

Perhaps it has no history, or none with us at least, but is simply something we saw once, in a shop or on a market stall, and one of us liked it. Probably Ben, I think. I realize I don’t like it.

I’ll see him just this once, I think. And then, tonight, when he gets home, I will tell Ben. 

I can’t believe I’m keeping something like this from him. Not when I rely so utterly on him.

But there is an odd familiarity to Dr Nash’s voice. Unlike Ben, he does not seem entirely alien to me. 

I realize I almost find it easier to believe that I have met him before than I do my husband.

We’re making progress, he’d said. I need to know what kind of progress he means. ‘OK,’ I say. ‘Come.’

When he arrives Dr Nash suggests we go for a cup of coffee. 

‘Are you thirsty?’ he says. ‘I don’t think there’s much point in driving all the way to the office. I mostly wanted to talk to you today, anyway.’
I nod, and say yes. 

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