The Doll's House

102

‘I’ve let you down.’

Helen stood in Daniel Briers’ hotel room.

‘I’m sure you did what you thought was best,’ Daniel replied.

Helen looked up, trying to see if he was angry with her, but his tone was hard to read. She wanted him to say that he forgave her, to brush away her feelings of inadequacy and shame. But he remained silent.

‘We’ll question Simpson again in the morning – see if a night in prison has any effect on him. He’s staring down the barrel of a long trial, so if he’s got any sense he’ll play ball…’

But did Helen believe it? Simpson had seemed so defiant, so determined not to acknowledge any culpability. Would he hold out and try to beat the rap? Or was there something else going on here? Was this the defiance of innocence? It seemed unlikely – he fitted the profile in so many ways – and yet this nagging thought lingered, unnerving Helen.

Daniel remained silent, so Helen continued:

‘Anyway, I’m sorry for making the situation worse for you. If I’d stayed calm, perhaps I could have got him to cooperate. There’s no excuse for it. Sometimes I… I just see red. I can’t help it. It’s in my DNA.’

Helen wasn’t sure how much she should share, how much Daniel already knew about her, but she felt compelled to explain her debacle in the interview suite.

‘Sometimes when I’m in there, sitting across the table from a guy like Simpson, it’s like I’m twelve years old again. I feel the helplessness, the despair, that someone like Ruby is experiencing and… I see myself and Marianne. In that flat. I remember the things my father did, the things he wanted to do, the things Marianne had to do to protect me. I see these men, I think of her and… I break inside.’

Helen didn’t look up, didn’t want to see Daniel’s reaction. She just wanted to tell him who she was, once and for all.

‘Part of me wants to destroy them. I know that sounds terrible, but it’s true. Their arrogance, their violence, makes me feel sick. I should be able to contain myself, but those feelings are always there. There’s a hatred inside me. I don’t want it, but I can’t get rid of it. Does that make sense to you?’

Finally she looked up. What was she hoping for? Understanding? Censure? Anger? She would have settled for any or all of these, but to Helen’s surprise Daniel was looking out of the window. Helen was shocked by his blank expression – he looked bored.

A long silence, then Daniel turned to her, finally taking in the fact that she had finished talking.

‘Sorry, you don’t need to hear all this,’ Helen said, anger jostling with her deep feelings of embarrassment. She had never confessed her innermost feelings like this before.

‘No, I’d like to hear more about you,’ Daniel replied quickly, but Helen could see the lie.

‘I shouldn’t have come here…’

‘Helen, wait -’

But Helen was already at the door. Turning the handle, she muttered:

‘I’m sorry, Daniel.’

And with that, she was gone.