Has Pete been choosing not to talk about certain matters, too? Are there things he’s done that remain as deep-buried as my own secrets are?

I try not to think about that too much, because if I do, everything starts to feel hopeless.

* * *

—

“I WANT TO KNOW why a woman would marry a psychopath,” I tell Annette when I’m sitting in her yellow-painted consulting room.

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you not with Pete anymore?”

“Oh—this isn’t about me and Pete. Not directly, anyway.” Briefly I explain about Miles and Lucy. I include Miles groping me as we left the courtroom.

“And how do you feel about all this?” Annette asks—the classic therapist’s opener.

“Right now, angry. But when I don’t feel angry…” I hesitate. “Sometimes, I just feel the deepest, blackest despair.”

Annette nods. “Both are very understandable reactions. And in answer to your question, psychopaths are very easy to fall in love with. For one thing, they know how to charm people. Typically, they throw themselves into the courtship with total commitment—showering their target with gifts, using lines from movies, telling you you’re the most beautiful, amazing thing that’s ever happened to them. And although it’s partly a game to them, it isn’t all fake. They’re intoxicated by the excitement and the chase, but it’s also important to them that they can get you to fall in love with them—they can’t rest until they’ve sealed the deal and hooked you. It’s also typical that they’ll propose quickly, while the rush is still there. Again, it’s because they crave more and bigger excitement, but they probably know on some level that they can’t sustain this sort of intimacy for long. The same applies to getting their partner pregnant. You could meet a psychopath and be married and a mother within a year.”

   “Because that’s the ultimate sealing of the deal?”

“Exactly. And because that’s what wives do, so his wife has to do it faster and better than anyone else. She’s no longer Emma or Clare or whoever, she’s ‘my darling wife.’ He might even enjoy playing the family guy or doting dad—for a brief scene or two. Then it’s on to his next thrill.” She hesitates. “I had a psychopath come to therapy once, with his wife. He loved it—it was an hour all about him. And he was brilliant at it—at playing it like a game, I mean. I could see him sucking up everything I was doing, using my techniques to become even more charming and deflective and self-justifying. It’s the only time I’ve ever terminated therapy. I told his wife she should get out of the relationship, fast, but the last I heard they were still together.”

“But why?” I ask. “If he can’t sustain the façade, why would a woman stay with someone like that?”

“Hmm.” Annette considers. “Well, based on that couple, I can see how the initial love-bombing and attention could become a kind of drug, particularly if the woman’s quite insecure in the first place. Even though the psychopath can’t keep it up, he only has to offer her an occasional tiny drop of it to keep the addiction going. And psychopaths are controlling—not least because they think, with some justification, that they’re better decision makers than anyone else around them. It’s a vicious circle: The more the psychopath makes the decisions, the more the partner believes she’s incapable, so the more she lets him make the decisions. Eventually, she just has no confidence left.”

   That makes sense. I think how different Lucy seemed when we first met in the NICU. Despite the stress of having a premature baby, she’d been engaging and outgoing, a far cry from the vague, anxious creature she is now. I also recall how, the first time we went to the Lamberts’, Miles had been so quick to correct her—first when she mixed up who out of Pete and me took milk, and then when she’d failed to pick up that Pete was the primary carer. Tiny, tiny things—at the time I’d taken them for alpha-male protectiveness, but now that I come to think of it, Pete would never have pounced on my mistakes so quickly, or corrected me in quite such a paternalistic way.

“And is there any chance she could become psychopathic herself?” I ask. “That she could, on her own initiative, do something as callous as swapping two babies to get a malpractice payout?”

“You can never completely rule anything out,” Annette says cautiously. “Certainly not without talking to the person concerned. But based on what you’ve told me, I’d say it’s unlikely. You’re describing someone who’s so lacking in confidence she can’t even make a cup of tea. The idea that she’s capable of making a spur-of-the-moment decision, one with long-lasting consequences, on her husband’s behalf, without first securing his permission…It just doesn’t stack up. Quite apart from anything else, it would force her to confront the reality of her situation—that she’s married to a monster. And while there certainly have been psychopathic couples—Bonnie and Clyde, Ian Brady and Myra Hindley—that doesn’t sound like the dynamic you’re describing. Frankly, I think it’s much more likely that the babies got swapped by accident, and you were just unlucky enough to end up with the child of someone you’d normally go a very long way to avoid.”

87

Case no. 12675/PU78B65, Exhibit 46. Extract from CAFCASS Section 7 report to the family court’s second hearing regarding Theo Riley, compiled by Lyn Edwards, Family Court Adviser.

14. THEO’S WISHES.

        I assessed Theo at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, which Theo visits on a daily basis for his nanny share. Theo is a bright and energetic little boy, if occasionally lacking in self-regulation and awareness of the needs of others. I was able to witness the parenting style of both Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, and noted that they included Theo in making decisions wherever possible.

I then requested to be left alone with Theo so we could have a chat. In the course of our discussion I asked Theo to draw a picture of a place where he would feel safe. In response he drew what looked like a castle. When asked, he identified the castle’s location as “Here.”

I then asked him to draw some people he thought he might need with him in the castle to keep him safe. After some thought he drew a policeman and what he informed me was a guard dog. I asked if there were any people he knew who he would like in his castle, who could also help to keep him safe. He drew a picture of a stick man with an object. When questioned, he identified this as Mr. Lambert, holding a rugby ball.

I then gently elicited from Theo where Mr. Riley and Ms. Wilson would be in his picture, and also where Mrs. Lambert would be. He indicated that Mrs. Lambert would be next to Mr. Lambert. Mr. Riley and Ms. Wilson would be outside the castle. He drew all three figures, then what he told me was a catapult, firing rugby balls at Mr. Riley.