Of course it made no sense what Mrs Shenton-Stevens had said, but Alex is struck nonetheless by the woman’s willingness to embrace her own extraordinary reality. Might insanity be nothing scarier than that – accepting without question an inner truth that shows itself, regardless of how much it defies the accepted truths of a bigoted and small-minded world? He raises a hand from the bedspread towards the poorly patched bumps and cracks on the ceiling, allowing his fingers to outline the swelling over Gulnaz’s eye. The hand sinks slowly again, down to the scald marks across his abdomen, his fingers walking a path up his body to his damaged cheekbone and from there to the birthmark on his scalp.
The signs, the stigmata of his own insanity.
He swings from the bed and drops down onto his newfound legs. They hold him securely and respond well to his command to pace the room. Margaret Shenton-Stevens had been wise enough on that score at least. And if there was anything else in that surreal encounter that rang true it was her closing message – for Alex to confront his ghosts and to act upon his feelings for Gulnaz.