I don’t understand what Julia’s getting at. ‘What does it say in her records?’
‘Well, that’s the thing. Ruby’s had a lot of procedures. Some of them pretty hard core. She’s been in hospital a lot. She’s been tested numerous times for Crohn’s, once when she was just four years old, then again when she was five and also earlier this year.’
‘Why so many times?’
‘Because each time it seems that Selena was insistent that’s what Ruby had.’
‘And?’
Julia shakes her head, her face serious. ‘Each test was negative.’
I think of Ruby’s small, undernourished body. Her pale face. Her weak limbs. Her fatigue. ‘So, what are you saying? That Ruby’s not really ill? Because it’s obvious that she is. The second night she was here she had to be rushed to hospital. She had a seizure and a fever. Selena wasn’t overreacting.’ I feel defensive on Selena’s behalf.
‘I don’t know,’ replies Julia, her brown eyes so dark I can’t see the pupils. She stands for a few seconds and chews a thumbnail. She swallows, as if worried about what she’s going to say next. ‘It’s rare and I’ve never seen a case. I’ve only read about it. And I’m not sure if this is what’s going on here. Maybe there are other reasons why Ruby is so unwell. But the things that Selena said and the notes I have here, they don’t fit.’
‘I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.’
‘Ruby was born with a few issues. She was jaundiced, and she had breathing problems and an allergy to dairy as a baby. And she’s had many blood tests and invasive procedures in the last few years and they’ve found nothing. She’s no longer allergic to dairy, according to recent tests. And she tested negative for Crohn’s three times. Having a wheelchair and leg braces when, it seems to me, there isn’t any need, the food that she can now miraculously eat, even though Selena told you her diet was so limited …’ She gives me a considered stare as if weighing up whether to be completely honest. Then, ‘Have you ever heard of factitious disorder in others?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You might know it by its former name. Munchausen syndrome by proxy.’
31
I stare at Julia, open-mouthed. I can’t talk for a few moments. ‘Now, wait a minute,’ I say eventually, when I’ve found my voice again. ‘Selena was no angel, I’m the first to admit that, but what you’re suggesting would mean Selena was deliberately making Ruby sick, wouldn’t it?’
‘Munchausen syndrome by proxy is a psychological condition where a person pretends someone vulnerable in their care is sick, needing operations and procedures, when they don’t,’ says Julia, in her GP voice. ‘They do it for attention. It could have started when Ruby was a baby and it was picked up that she was allergic to dairy. Selena might have basked in the attention the staff were giving her …’
‘But that’s – that’s child abuse!’ I splutter.
Julia nods gravely. ‘It’s a huge accusation to make. I know that. And I’m sorry, I really am. But we have to consider the possibility that Ruby may not be ill at all.’
‘There’s no proof of that!’ I protest. ‘I mean, Ruby’s obviously ill. The doctors just haven’t found the cause yet.’
Julia sighs, the sound echoing around the living room. ‘I’ve thought of all of that. But she told you that Ruby had Crohn’s. Why tell you that when the tests suggest otherwise?’
‘I …’ I think of pretty little Ruby with her elfin face and skinny limbs. I can’t believe Selena would do that to her daughter. She loved her. She wanted to protect her. Just like I want to protect my girls. That was why she’d left Nigel. She’d been worried that he was going to hurt Ruby.
Julia comes over to me and rubs my arm affectionately. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in. And I’m not saying it’s definite. It’s …’ she hesitates ‘… it’s a really awful thought. Let’s just keep an eye on Ruby. That’s what I’m saying. I’ll go and get my medical bag and I’ll listen to her chest to see about the asthma. Okay?’
I smile gratefully and she moves past me out of the room.
I go to the window and look out over the mountains. Usually when I see the Brecons in the distance I remember Dean and the recurring thought that plagues me: he could be living up there waiting for his moment to come back and hurt us. But now all I can think about is Ruby. A flash of red catches my eye. Nancy is across the street, just opposite from the church, in her scarlet mac. She’s with our neighbour Lydia Ford, their arms linked as they shelter under Nancy’s umbrella. They’re talking to someone. I peer closer. My vision is obscured by the rivulets of rain snaking down the glass but it looks like Janice. Yes, it’s definitely Janice. She’s also holding an umbrella, hers in a garish floral fabric, and she has Horace cradled under her arm, one of his little legs sticking out at an angle. Do they know each other? They seem to be engaged in deep conversation, not the passing small-talk of a guest and a cleaner. Before I can think any more about it Janice breaks away from Nancy and Lydia and heads back towards the house, a determined look on her face as she struggles with her umbrella, which is being buffeted by the wind.
I turn away, thoughts of Janice and Nancy flying straight out of my mind. All I can think about is what Julia’s just told me.
Munchausen syndrome by proxy. I don’t know much about it, only what I’ve seen in the newspapers. I remember reading about a case years ago when a mother pretended her child was terminally ill. But that was for money. I’m sure of it. She’d shaved his head and pretended he had cancer so she could go on a holiday of a lifetime. Selena hadn’t done anything like that. I turn back to the window and grip the sill. My palms are sweating. I can’t believe Selena would purposely cause her child pain by making out she was ill when she wasn’t. All the procedures that Ruby’s had, the operations, the hospital stays. As if Selena would make her go through all that if she was healthy. She would have had to be extremely mentally disturbed and, okay, she had her issues but she couldn’t have done more for Ruby. She came across as a loving, attentive mother. No, Julia’s got it wrong. I can’t let her think that about Selena. It would sully her memory.But she murdered her own father, a little voice inside my head insists.Is it really that much of a stretch to imagine she could harm her daughter too?
I make an effort to pull myself together. There are real things to worry about, like Nathan being Ruby’s father and Julia knowing nothing about it. I feel hot and flustered.
I head into the hallway just in time to see Janice bursting through the door, wrestling with her umbrella. I notice one of the spokes has broken and hangs limply, like a snapped finger. ‘Ah, hello, dear,’ she says, when she sees me. She throws the umbrella on to the step outside and closes the door. ‘How are things?’
‘Okay. Considering. Listen, I just want to say I’m so sorry for everything that’s been happening here …’ I pull an apologetic face ‘… I know it must have ruined your stay.’Please write a positive review on TripAdvisor.
We’d had one from the Greysons last night under the headlineDire.I couldn’t bring myself to read the rest.
She waves a hand. ‘Not at all. I’ve loved staying here. I grew up around here, you know.’
