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quiet, as they all stare at me.
    ‘Was Becca here?’ I ask again.
    ‘Yes,’ my mother says. Her hand is tight around mine, papery dry and desperate. ‘Yes, she came in yesterday and talked to you.’
    ‘I thought so.’ I smile and close my eyes.

 
     
     
    Six
    Excerpt of CONSULTATION BETWEEN DR ANNABEL HARVEY AND PATIENT NATASHA HOWLAND,
    MONDAY 11/01, 09.00
     
    NATASHA: It feels weird. You’d feel weird, wouldn’t you? I mean, to have been dead like that. I mean, I guess I must not have been properly dead, otherwise I wouldn’t be here now.
(Small laugh)
But to think my heart wasn’t beating for almost a quarter of a school lesson, when I think about it like that . . . yeah, it freaks me out. You know, if that guy walking his dog had been two or three minutes later or whatever, what would have happened then? It’s all bad stuff to have in your head. But I feel fine now. I mean, it’s not like I saw a tunnel or bright lights or any of that stuff. Nothing I can remember.
(Small laugh)
But then my memory isn’t working right, is it?
    DR HARVEY: How much anxiety is that causing you? The loss of memory?
    NATASHA: I think that makes me feel stranger than the being-dead thing. I remember going for lunch on Thursday lunchtime. That’s it. I don’t remember what I did that evening. I don’t remember any of Friday or Friday night. It’s like that whole time just didn’t happen. When I woke up last night, I had a vague memory of being in freezing water and panicking that I was dying. Apart from that, nothing.
    DR HARVEY: The flash of memory you had about being in the water – how do you feel in it? Aside from the fear of the water. Are you aware of anyone else?
    NATASHA: Like an attacker or something?
    DR HARVEY: Try not to apply a label in your mind. Just think about the memory.
    NATASHA: I remember being in the water and trying to reach the bank. I don’t know if there was anyone else around. It’s just a momentary memory . . . kind of like the end of a dream when you wake up. You know? Like you remember it, but it’s just tiny images of something. I don’t know if I’m remembering the memory or what I remember of the memory.
(Small laugh)
That sounds crazy but you know what I mean?
    DR HARVEY: Why do you think you’ve lost those hours of your memory?
    NATASHA: I don’t know. We’re just machines, aren’t we? I was dead for thirteen minutes. That must mess up the wiring.
    DR HARVEY: So there was nothing concerning you? That you remember?
    NATASHA: You sound like DI Bennett. Same questions. Didn’t she show you her report?
    DR HARVEY: Yes, she did, but I’d rather hear it from you so I can make a better assessment of how to help you. I’m sorry if I’m making you repeat yourself.
    (Pause)
    NATASHA: I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to help. I’m just . . . Anyway, I was fine. Pissed off to be back at school after the holidays, but even that wasn’t so bad, not really. It can be a drag being around my mum too long. She always wants to do stuff together, which is sort of sweet but she can be too much. I’m not a baby any more.
    DR HARVEY: Is that why you sneaked out through the window?
    NATASHA: I don’t know if I did sneak out. I guess if my parents say I told them I was going to bed then I must have done.
    DR HARVEY: The front door was locked and bolted on the inside.
    NATASHA: Then I must have gone out through my window.
(Small laugh, nervous)
You know more about what I did than I do. I don’t know why I went out. I wish I did, but I don’t.
    DR HARVEY: What about the text you received that night?
    NATASHA: I don’t know. I don’t know the number. It’s not answering when the police ring or text it, apparently. Goes straight to voicemail like it’s switched off. I think that police detective said it was a pay-as-you-go phone. Most of my friends have contracts. Our parents pay for them. No one’s had pay-as-you-go for ages.
    DR HARVEY: Does it bother you?
    NATASHA: Does what