‘It’s not like I have the exact diagnosis. I mean, Ris and I were cool and that, but we didn’t pry too much into each other’s business. I think maybe she’s a bit bipolar?’
The coffees are delivered to the table, along with two new wrapped biscuits.
‘How did you guys meet?’ Kate asks.
‘You sure you want to know this?’
Kate nods. Jas leans forward and places her arms on the table. She has a tattoo in roman numerals on the inside of her right wrist.
‘We met at a group for survivors of sexual assault.’
‘Oh God. Jas. I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault, is it?’ She laughs, a deep chuckle. ‘I’m OK. Ris was raped when she was seventeen.’
Kate thinks she might be sick. The caffeine mixes in with her adrenalin and she can feel the whoosh of blood pumping through her veins. She feels at once both very young and very old. She swallows back the feelings.
‘That’s horrific,’ she says. ‘Poor Marisa.’
‘Yeah.’
They are silent for several seconds. Nearby, bacon sizzles in a frying pan and the smell of it fills the air, which becomes thick and foggy with grease.
‘She sorted herself out as much as she could,’ Jas says. ‘It wasn’t easy. It’s a fucking miracle she managed to set up that business with the kids’ books and that, but she did. The meds definitely helped. But sometimes she forgets to take them or she doesn’t think she needs them and I’m guessing with you guys, maybe she worried they would harm the baby or something?’
There was that, at least, Kate thought. She is clutching on to the idea that Marisa had wanted to do her best for them.
‘What happens when she doesn’t take her medication?’
Jas looks as if she is about to say something and then thinks better of it.
‘Ris isn’t a bad person.’
‘I know,’ Kate says.
‘She’d get these … obsessions,’ Jas says slowly. ‘Like, she’d fixate on a man she’d been on a date with and imagine this future with him and it was all a bit much. She’d text them a lot and sometimes she’d follow them to work and that, and I always told her to chill out, but she never listened and the more I told her to chill out, the less she started telling me.’
The cafe is filling up now. Some builders in dusty trousers and hard hats come and sit on the table next to theirs. They talk loudly and roll cigarettes while waiting for their breakfasts. Jas has to raise her voice so that Kate can hear her.
‘I suppose we kind of fell out? When she told me about Jake, I said she was moving too fast but, you know, there’s only so much you can do. She didn’t want to hear it. And I had no idea what was actually going on. I had no idea about you.’
Jas turns up the corners of her mouth. It is not quite a smile, but it is understanding. For the first time in sixteen hours, Kate unclenches her jaw and relaxes her shoulders. The oppressive sensation in herchest, of an elastic being wound tightly around her ribcage, starts to lessen. She is calmer now, knowing that there is someone else who can bear witness to Marisa’s behaviour; who can reassure Kate that she is not the one who’s going mad.
‘Thank you, Jas.’
Jas starts putting her jacket back on.
‘I don’t think I’ve done that much.’
‘You have, you really have. Is it OK if I keep your number and stay in touch? It’s just useful, you know, having someone—’
‘Sure,’ Jas cuts in.
‘And you don’t have any contact details for her family?’
Jas sucks air through her teeth.
‘Nah. And, if you want my opinion, that would be the worst thing you could do.’
