‘Fine,’ she replied. ‘Good, good. Are you settling down here all right?’ ‘I suppose so, but I’d prefer to go home.’ ‘To Marchmont?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘So you regard Marchmont as your home rather than the apartment you shared in London with your mother?’ Cheska stared at a figurine on a shelf and didn’t reply. ‘Would you like to tell me about your mother, Cheska?’ ‘I was once in a film where there was a psychiatrist.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yes. He tried to get people to believe his brother was mad so he could lock him away and steal all his money.’ ‘But films aren’t real, Cheska. They’re make-believe. Nobody is trying to say you’re mad. I’m trying to help you.’ ‘That’s what the psychiatrist said in the film.’ ‘Let’s talk about the baby, then. You do know you’re having a baby, don’t you?’ ‘Of course I do!’ she snapped.
