‘Episodes?’ I take offence at the word. ‘This isn’t an episode. I genuinely don’t know whoyouor your son are. I don’t understand why you think this is an episode. I should be askingyouthe questions. Who are you? Where’s Seth? Are you really a doctor?’
‘Just answer her, Alice,’ Dad chimes in. ‘DrEvans is trying to help you.’
‘It’s fine,’ Christine responds, holding out a hand to quiet him. She stays focused on me. ‘So you’ve never had this ... feeling before, where you don’t recognise someone?’
I pause and swallow, my throat dry as dust. I see my parents give one another a look and I wonder if it means something or if I’m being paranoid. ‘Never,’ I snap. ‘I don’t recognise my fiancé, or you and your husband, but I know everyone else here. Which makes me think that you’re the problem. Not me.’
‘Okay,’ she replies mildly, not batting an eyelid at my outburst. ‘Have you taken any non-prescription drugs recently?’
I screw up my face. ‘No.’
‘Maybe something to calm you down before the ceremony? Something to stop those pre-wedding jitters?’ She’s staring at mehard. ‘There’s no judgement here. I just want to help us get to the bottom of this.’
‘I haven’t taken any drugs of any kind.’ I roll my eyes. ‘And I haven’t had anything to drink either, in case that was your next question.’ I know I’m being rude, but I don’t care. I absolutely don’t trust this woman and I won’t be gaslighted into thinkingI’mthe one with the problem. I check my phone to see if Seth has replied, but there’s nothing on the screen. I call voicemail.
‘You have no new messages.’
Where the hell is he? I realise everyone is staring at me, but I don’t care and I don’t enlighten them as to what I was doing.
‘Have you had any head injuries recently?’ fake Christine asks, once I’ve moved the phone from my ear. ‘Doesn’t matter how minor. Any bumps or bruises?’
‘No.’
‘Any existing conditions I should know about? Diabetes, epilepsy, anything at all?’
‘Nothing,’ I reply, briefly panicking that perhaps I might be suffering with something serious. Something that’s making me lose my memory. But why would I only have a problem recognising Seth and his parents? Surely if I had some kind of amnesia, I would have forgotten them completely. But I haven’t. I still love my fiancé. I still want to get married. Don’t I?
‘I’m going to check your vitals – pulse, temperature etcetera.’ She reaches into her bag again.
My chest constricts at the thought of this woman touching me. No matter how much she and my parents want me to get checked over, I don’t think I can cope with it. I don’t think I should sit here submissively letting this imposter control the situation. I lurch to my feet. Why am I allowing her to ask me all these personal questions? I’m not going to let her examine me too. No way.
‘What are you doing, Alice?’ Dad asks. ‘Sit down and let DrEvans check you over.’
‘She’s not DrEvans!’ I cry. ‘And I’m not going to stay here and let her do God knows what to me!’
‘Alice!’ Dad’s voice is stern. Angry.
‘She needs some help,’ says the woman to my parents. ‘If she won’t let me do it, then you need to get her checked over asap. It could be something physical, or maybe she needs a referral to mental-health services, but without checking her vitals it’s difficult to rule anything out.’
‘Mental health?’ Dad scoffs. ‘I don’t think that can be right. Alice is as level-headed as they come.’
‘It’s not about being level-headed,’ the woman says patiently.
I skirt around my parents and head towards the door, pulse racing, palms slippery with sweat.
‘It’s the stress of the wedding,’ my mum interjects quietly.
‘Come back here, Alice,’ my father orders. ‘You heard what the doctor said.’
I yank open the door and push past my startled fake groom and his supposed father who are waiting right outside. I wonder if they were listening in. To my dismay, the church is still quite full. Don’t these people realise there isn’t going to be any wedding today? Why are they all still here?
I glance around for a friendly face, for someone who might be able to calm me, but all I see is a blur of suits and summer dresses, shiny hair and flowers. I know I must look a sight – bewildered, sweaty and wild-eyed. But I’m too upset to care. My mind is racing. I’m desperate to lock myself away in my bedroom and close the curtains. Calm this whirl of dark and frightening thoughts.
‘Alice.’ A warm, familiar voice by my side catches my attention. It’s Laurence. I almost didn’t recognise him dressed up in his navy suit, his messy blond hair cut shorter than usual.
‘What’s happened?’ he asks, concern on his face.
‘Can you take me home?’ I’m trying to keep it together, to not cry in front of all these people, but I’m right on the edge. I realise if I let go of my emotions now, it won’t be pretty.
