Alex nodded her understanding. Jessica’s motive was the most common: altruistic. She genuinely believed her child would be better off dead, for any number of reasons. The condition often manifested because the mother felt that she could not protect the child adequately from threats, whether real or imagined.

‘Can you tell me some of the things that frightened you?’

‘One day I was reading about bombs exploding, whole families being tortured and killed in third world countries. There was hunger, starvation, drought, civil war. I tried to tell myself that all these things happened in someone else’s country but then I saw articles on car accidents, children being stabbed by other children, a man beaten to death for a bottle of wine, and I realised that it was all getting closer. Too close.’

Jessica stared into the distance without blinking as she recounted all of her fears. And there were quite a few to work through. Alex was pleased that she didn’t have to bother.

‘So, what did you do?’

‘I had Jamie on the sofa beside me and suddenly I felt this overwhelming urge to save him; protect him from the evils surrounding him. I visualised him just falling asleep and being safe. I just lay against him and closed my eyes. For a while I felt calm, as though I was finally taking proper care of my child.’

‘What happened next?’

‘Mitch came back from work early to check on me. I didn’t hear him come in. He pushed me aside, grabbed Jamie and rushed him to the hospital.’

‘How did you feel? And please, for the sake of your recovery, be honest.’

Jessica closed her eyes and hesitated for so long Alex wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

Alex prompted. ‘Jessica, please. I really would like to help you but I can’t unless you tell me the whole truth.’

Jessica sighed deeply but didn’t open her eyes. ‘I felt disappointed. Jamie wasn’t even struggling. It was like he knew what I was trying to do and understood it. He was just going to go to sleep. It felt so right.’

Alex marvelled at just how simple this was going to be.

‘Did Mitchell understand once you explained it to him?’

Jessica shook her head. ‘I didn’t tell him. He’d already assumed I had just fallen asleep and rolled onto the baby. That was what he told the hospital staff but social services got involved and prosecuted me for child neglect.’

Alex heard the disbelief in Jessica’s voice. In her own delusional haze Jessica couldn’t comprehend that anyone would even think that about her. The fact that she’d lied to her husband signalled that the belief in her own motivation was still within her.

‘The judge ordered me to get counselling and that was it. I’ve kept up the charade because it seems to be what everyone wants to hear. You’re the first person I’ve been honest with.’

‘And how does that feel?’ Alex asked, kindly. Trust was important.

‘Better. Everyone around me has the same expression. Even my own mother looks terrified if I go within ten feet of my baby.’

‘Are they right to watch you closely?’

Jessica hesitated. ‘I would never do anything that was not in the best interest of my child. Never.’

Alex noted the play on words. Yes, the motivation was definitely still there. Alex forced herself to go slowly.

Still, Jessica was seeking permission to do what she felt was right. Alex forced the smile out of her face.

‘Strangely it is a Western belief that your motives are wrong. There is a Buddhist belief in transmigration that dictates that a child who is killed will be reborn in better circumstances.’

Alex nodded with a look of ‘go figure’ on her face. She didn’t explain that this was believed by people who were too poor to feed their children and so felt that the child would be reborn in circumstances whereby it wouldn’t starve to death.

Jessica was nodding intently.

Alex really should be alerting social services that this woman was still a danger to her child. She should be informing them that she was not suffering from postnatal depression. She should be telling them that the medication she was taking was not correct for her condition.

However, none of these actions suited her purpose.

Alex removed her glasses and looked up to the left, searching for a memory that was rehearsed, ready and waiting. Jessica’s eyes never strayed from her face. Alex wanted to laugh out loud. She could not have scripted this session any better and real excitement began to form in her stomach. Jessica could be the one.

She lowered her eyes to meet the expectant gaze of Jessica. ‘Actually, come to think of it, your situation reminds me of an American woman called Andrea Yates. She had similar fears to you, only she saw the devil everywhere. She was devoutly religious and loved her children very much.

‘Every day she was terrified that the devil would claim them and that as they grew older she would not be able to keep them safe.

‘The authorities felt that Andrea should never be left alone with her five children, so the family set up a rota system so that someone was always in the house with her. Like you, she was monitored every single day. But one day her husband, also a religious man, decided that the authorities were wrong and placed his trust in God to take care of his family. He left for work before the next caretaker arrived and Andrea seized her opportunity. She drowned her children one by one in the bathtub.’

Alex looked for shock in Jessica’s features but saw only undivided attention.

‘Throughout her trial Andrea maintained that she’d done it out of love for her children, to protect them. Society judged her to be wrong but I’d like you to give some thought to how you feel about that case before our next session.’

Right on cue, the alarm on her watch sounded. ‘Okay, Jessica, that’s all for today.’ She sighed heavily. ‘My next session is a five-year-old girl whose face was ravaged after a dog attack.’ Alex shook her head. ‘Poor child was just playing in the park.’

Alex would have loved to take a photo of the terror on Jessica’s face. She guided her patient to the door and opened it. ‘I’ll see you next week, take care.’

Jessica nodded and passed through the open door.

Alex closed the door. She hoped there would be no session next week. The next time she wanted to see Jessica’s face was on the evening news.

SIXTY-ONE

Jessica Ross stumbled out of the premises. She had to get home. Jamie needed her. The neighbours had a dog they often left out in the garden. It could jump the fence and get into the house.

She put the car into gear, silently thanking God for bringing her to Alex; the one single person that understood what she was going through. Being able to open up and be completely honest with Alex had cleansed her of the crippling self-doubt she harboured for her feelings. The story Doctor Thorne had told her of the American woman, Andrea something, was playing over in her mind. She was running out of time.

… As they grew older she would not be able to keep them safe.

Danger was everywhere. The traffic lights at which she now waited could easily malfunction, meaning the cars hurtling down the hill could crash into the side of her Citroen. It had happened in Gornal two years ago and a little girl had been trapped in the wreckage for over an hour.

A car horn sounded behind her. The lights were green. Jessica turned and headed past the garden centre on her left. Two little girls were laughing and running around the car park. They could easily run into the road and be killed. Only last month this stretch of road had claimed a teenage cyclist.

She passed the national speed limit sign but kept to thirty miles an hour between fields on either side. If something were to run out in front of her she would have time to stop.