‘It’s all right, it’s all right. I’m here. What’s happened? What is it? What did you see? It’s just a dream, Laura. I’m here. You’re safe.’ He was still in the doorway but now took a step into the room.
‘No, no! You stay right there. Don’t you dare move.’
So she could hear him; see him. He didn’t understand, his head spinning.
Next she picked up the phone by the bed and was dialling. ‘I’m calling the police.’
‘The police?’ He stepped back into the doorway. ‘What’s happened? I can’t see anyone, Laura. There’s no sign of anyone.’
‘Who are you?’ Still she was staring at him, unblinking. ‘I told you not to move. I mean it. I’m trained. I can take you down.’
‘What do you mean – who am I? Put the phone down. This isn’t funny, Laura.’ Not for one minute did he actually think this was a joke and he regretted saying that instantly but he didn’t know what else to say. What else to do.
Christ. She was actually dialling . . .
‘No, no. Don’t ring the police. You’re perfectly safe, I promise you. Just look at me, please. You’re safe.’
She seemed to pause then as if changing her mind. Puzzled rather than terrified. His mind was still spinning while hers seemed in freefall.
She pressed the end button on the phone and just continued to stare at him. She tilted her head to the side as if trying to better compute what she was seeing. Next, and most ominously, she picked up a torch – kept alongside the bed in case of power cuts – and held it up as her own weapon.
Instinctively Ed lowered his hand holding the candlestick, but Laura did not copy; she kept the torch high in the air.
‘What do you want?’ Her eyes were still wide. Unnatural. ‘I’m not afraid to use this. And I’m warning you – I’m trained. And I’m stronger than I look. I can take you down.’
This time he said nothing for a while. Very gently and slowly he put the candlestick back on the top of the bookcase. Maybe if he just waited she would calm down. Wake up properly? She watched him. He watched her. They both waited for maybe a minute.
‘What have you done with my husband?’
‘Look. I don’t know what this is but you must have been dreaming, darling. It’s me. It’s Ed. Look at me. You’re safe. It’s me.’
‘I’m going to ask you one more time. What have you done with my husband?’
He felt a strange pull in his stomach, his mind moving to a new place. He took in her wild eyes and her pale skin. Her trembling hand. Laura was clearly unwell. In some kind of psychotic state. What had brought it on, he had no notion. Night terror, sleepwalking or whatever. All he knew for sure was that he wasn’t equipped to deal with this, not on his own. He needed to get her to snap out of whatever this was. But how to do that safely, without making it worse?
‘OK. So how about we get someone to help. Someone to come and help?’ What he was actually thinking was that he needed to buy some time. He was still assuming this would pass soon. That she would wake up properly very soon and this peculiar state would pass. ‘Shall we ring the doctor, Laura?’
‘Doctor? Why would I need a doctor? How dare you. You come into my home . . .’
‘OK. So how about your mother. Why don’t you phone your mother? Get your mother to come over here? Help us sort this out?’ He was wondering in fact whether he could phone the doctor secretly once Laura’s mother arrived. Laura’s parents were just ten minutes away by car. If this passed, they could explain when her mother arrived and then see what the doctor advised. He was remembering now that his father once had a bladder infection that went untreated and caused him to hallucinate. He thought there were locusts on the carpet. Maybe this was something like that? Some kind of infection causing her to see things?
‘You need to tell me what you’ve done with my husband.’
‘I am your husband, Laura. Look at me.’
She raised the torch higher.
‘OK, let’s just ring your mother. Get her to come here. Alright?’
She glanced to the left and right as if thinking. ‘No – the police. I think we need the police here.’
‘Let’s get your mother here first. And then if she thinks we need the police, fair enough. I promise you I’m not going to come into the room and I’m certainly not going to hurt you. You’re not in danger. It’s me. It’s Ed.’ He was looking at the heavy torch in her hand. What on earth was going on in her mind he had no idea, but he needed to calm this all down. Keep the police out of it. Could disorientation from a bad dream last this long? She’d never talked in her sleep. Walked in her sleep. But if it was some kind of infection, she would need antibiotics. He could phone the doctor discreetly once her mother was here.