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“Oh!” I said again. “Well… good. That must be… challenging. For you all.”
“It is,” Cass said honestly. “It’s not been plain sailing by any stretch of the imagination. There’s conflict between alters, between me and the alters, ups and downs like any other relationship. But I have separate relationships with them all – not all of them romantic – and we muddle along with the help of our therapists.”
“Therapy seems like a good shout,” I mused, thinking of Petra and I, before realising I’d said that aloud.
“It saved us.” Cass nodded, and then smiled shyly. “Anyway. This wasn’t the only purpose of me visiting you. Heather just thought it was a good idea to kill two birds with one stone, if you see what I mean. We’ve been meaning to tell you for a while.”
“Well… thank you for telling me. Do you mind if I tell Petra?”
Cass waved her assent, turning back to the sheets of music in front of us.
“And needless to say, we won’t tell anyone.” I followed her cue and turned back to the piano. “Now then. Shall we work through each line from the top and see how it comes together?”
An hour later, we had the solo parts nailed. Cass said she didn’t need help with her actual alto lines, so we were wrapping up when we heard the front door open and close.
“Evening, my love,” I called down the stairs, and heard a grunt of response. My heart sunk, but I raised my eyebrows and smiled at Cass as if in mirth, as if this was normal.
“I’ll be going,” she said, picking up her bag. “Thank you so much, Jean. That’s really cleared things up for me.”
“Thank you for telling me what you did. Please extend our full support to Felicia. Heather. And all of the… alters.”
It was a clumsy way of putting it, but Cass did not take offence, so I must have said something right. In fact, she smiled again.
“We’re a team, all of us,” she said with a soft chuckle. “But all support gratefully received. So thank you. Again.”
“After you,” I motioned for her to go down the stairs before me. “A team is a good way of putting it. That’s how all great relationships-”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Petra’s scream cut me off. I froze, Cass bumping into me from behind, as Petra dashed back into the kitchen, clad only in her underwear and a horror-stricken expression.
“Sorry,” I muttered, to Cass. “Did you see…?”
“I didn’t see anything,” she reassured me quickly. “Her dignity is intact. I’ll be taking my leave. Thank you once again.”
We reached the bottom of the stairs, and I opened the door to let her out. “See you tomorrow,” I murmured, but without any active thought, then shut the door behind her.
“Why didn’t you tell me we had company?”
Petra’s voice was ice cold, and her expression colder still when I turned around to see her behind me.
“It was a last-minute arrangement,” I whispered, frozen to the spot. She looked like Victoria in that moment, and I didn’t like it.
“You embarrassed me. Can’t you just…” Her mouth opened and closed while she seemed to search for the right words, but perhaps she couldn’t find them. “Can’t you just not do these things? At least while I’ve got this heavy workload on? I need a constant in my life. And right now you feel as slippery as a banana peel.”
The sheer bitterness in her voice took the wind right out of my sails. Without another word, she turned on her heel and ascended the stairs.
“Me slippery?” I followed her to the staircase and called up to her retreating figure. “You’re the one I can’t get a read of these days! What you just said makes no sense! Why are you being like this?” And then, the killer line. “What is wrong with you?”
“Work!” she barked without turning around. “Work is what’s wrong with me! Just… leave me alone, please. I just need five minutes to breathe.”
Chapter Seventeen
It ended up being fifteen minutes, but “I’m sorry,” came the voice from behind me, sure enough.
I turned around from the stove. Petra was wrapped in her dressing gown and she was leaning on the door frame, looking like a chastened schoolgirl.
“I am not your emotional punching bag, Petra.” My voice and movements were robotic as I turned back to the stove and continued to stir the ravioli.
“I know.” She sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why this keeps happening. I’m just… stretched thin. Tight as a piano wire. And it’s only Wednesday. It’s exam week.”
