A Sight for Sore Eyes by Ruth Rendell Read Free Book Online Page B

private patients. The perpetrator, suspected of being a heroin addict, certainly under toxic influence at the time of the murders, confused the two men. He had probably, the Chief Inspector said almost apologetically, found Richard's address in the phone book. And ever since then Richard had suffered inner agonies of guilt over that 'Dr' before his name in the telephone directory. For there had been no need of it. His profession and his success in it hardly required that all and sundry should know he had a D. Phil. from Oxford. He had had it inserted in the directory through pride. He was proud and vainglorious of this achievement of his and the title it conferred, and because of it, through vaunting it, he had murdered his wife. One evening, while the two men were having a drink together, he told David Stanark how he felt. David didn't tell him anything comforting. He said not a word about Richard not blaming himself, having nothing to be ashamed of, or that he should put this guilt out of his mind. Richard had rather expected he would say that, had hoped he would. David's, 'It's just something you have to live with, all you can say is it'll get less with time,' disconcerted him. 'So you do think it was my fault? I'm right to feel guilt?' 'Any reasonably responsible human being in your situation would feel guilt,' David said, and he smiled, perhaps to soften harsh words. 'You did lead this man to your house. You did so directly by your action. You call it vanity, a kinder judgement would be that it was evidence of a justifiable pride in your achievement. Whatever it may have been, it resulted in this man killing your wife. But we can't predict what our actions will lead to. Maybe if we could we'd never go out at all, put pen to paper, never even get up in the morning. That's not possible, so the answer is to try always to be very circumspect in what we do.' 'Avoid the Seven Deadly Sins?' said Richard. But he didn't like it when David nodded and said in a parsonical tone, 'Events like this one show us why Pride is one of them.' After that a coolness arose between the two men and although they still occasionally saw each other, things were not the same. Their friendship was mended only after both were married and their wives became close. Instead of David Stanark, Richard took his troubles to Julia and her reaction was more to his taste. She was - at least in her own estimation - a child psychotherapist but, having no sound belief in psychotherapy of any kind, Richard rather thought this wouldn't matter. The two beliefs were balanced side by side in his mind: the one that psychotherapy was rubbish and the other that Julia, because she was good-looking and understanding and calm and confident, must be a good psychotherapist. In fact, as he told himself, she was the only one of her ilk whom he could trust. Julia had no objection to taking him on as a client. An adult was more challenging than a child. An adult man and an attractive one confessing to you the secrets of his heart, while you sat close together in a warm room at dusk with just one lamp on, was more exciting than watching a child play with dolls. And Richard found that he could say anything to Julia, he could tell her everything. She listened, she never interrupted. She put one elbow on the arm of the sofa and, her head a little on one side, rested her rather small receding chin in the palm of her hand and, with her beautiful fish's lips slightly parted, she listened. Occasionally she nodded, in such a way as to imply that the horrors he admitted to, the weaknesses and follies, were all perfectly understandable. She knew, she understood and she pardoned. He told her of the vanity that had led him to call himself Dr Hill in the phone book and how he therefore blamed himself for the death of his wife. 'The first thing you have to understand', she said, 'is that guilt is part of the cumbersome and often dirty baggage we human beings have to carry around with us. Often it