The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox by Maggie O'Farrell Page B

lets it flap around his ankles.
    'So, what happens to Esme now?'
    'Esme?'
    'Euphemia. Actually, you know...' She trails off and flashes him that smile again. 'Never mind. I mean Euphemia.'
    Peter opens his car boot and lifts in his briefcase. 'Patients for whom no provisions have been made by relatives,' he can see the policy document before him and he reads the words aloud, 'become the responsibility of the state and will be rehoused accordingly.'
    She frowns and it makes her lower lip pout slightly. 'What does that mean?'
    'She'll be rehoused.' He slams the boot down and walks towards the car door. But the girl tags behind him.
    'Where?'
    'In a state establishment.'
    'Another hospital?'
    'No.' Peter sighs again. He knew this wouldn't be quick.
'Euphemia has been deemed eligible for discharge. She's successfully been through a Discharge Adjustment Programme and a Rehabilitation Schedule. She is on a waiting list at a home for the elderly. So she will be transferred there, I would imagine, as soon as a place becomes available.' Peter slides into the driver's seat and inserts his keys into the ignition. Surely that will be sufficient to get rid of her.
    But no. She leans on the open car door and the hound sticks its muzzle in Peter's direction, sniffing. 'When will that be?' she asks.
    He looks up at her and there is something about her – her persistence, her doggedness – that makes him feel particularly weary. 'You really want to know? It could be weeks. It could be months. You cannot imagine the pressure that such establishments are under. Insufficient finance, insufficient staff, not enough places to supply demand. Cauldstone is due to close in five weeks, Miss Lockhart, and were I to reveal to you that—'
    'Isn't there anywhere else she can go in the meantime? She can't stay here. There must be somewhere else. I would ... I just want to get her out of here.'
    He fiddles with the rear-view mirror, tilting it forward then back, unable to get a satisfactory view. 'There have been instances of patients such as Euphemia going to temporary accommodation until such time as a more permanent placing can be found. But my professional opinion is that I wouldn't recommend it.'
    'What do you mean, temporary accommodation?'
    'A short-term housing scheme, a residential hostel. Somewhere like that.'
    'How soon could that happen?'
    He gives his car door a tug. He really has had enough now. Will this woman never leave him alone? 'As soon as we can find transportation,' he snaps.
    'I'll take her,' she says, without hesitation. 'I'll drive her myself.'
     
    Iris lies on her side, a book in her hand. Luke's arm is round her waist and she can feel his breath on the back of her neck. His wife is visiting her sister so Luke is staying the night for the first time. Iris doesn't usually permit men to remain in her bed overnight but Luke had happened to call while she had lots of customers so she didn't have the time or privacy to argue her case.
    She turns a page. Luke strokes her arm, then presses an experimental kiss to her shoulder. Iris doesn't respond. He sighs, shifts closer.
    'Luke,' Iris says, shrugging him off.
    He starts to nuzzle her neck.
    'Luke, I'm reading.'
    'I can see that,' he mumbles.
    She turns another page with a flick of her fingers. He is gripping her tighter.
    'You know what it says here?' she says. 'That a man used
to be able to admit his daughter or wife to an asylum with just a signature from a GP.'
    'Iris—'
    'Imagine. You could get rid of your wife if you got fed up with her. You could get shot of your daughter if she wouldn't do as she was told.'
    Luke makes a grab for the book. 'Will you stop reading that depressing tome and talk to me instead?'
    She turns her head to look at him. 'Talk to you?'
    He smiles. 'Talk. Or anything else that might take your fancy.'
    She shuts the book, turns on to her back and looks up at the ceiling. Luke is smoothing her hair, pushing his face into her shoulder, his hands moving