‘The amygdala controls emotions,’ said Precious. She was curled up on Layla’s bed in jeans and a sky-blue jumper, writing this down as part of her course work. Her pen was scribbling busily across the page. ‘And the emotional reaction to any given situation kicks in before the intellectual…’ She paused, looked up at Layla, who was sitting on the stool at the dressing table, idly staring at her reflection. ‘Which I guess is why people of limited intelligence are quick to lash out.’
Layla was thinking Amygwhat??? Precious didn’t realize that she was sitting doing her homework in a murderess’s bedroom. Was that why she had lashed out, killed Orla Delaney? Because she was dense? Or psychotic.
Precious was staring at her.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Tell me to mind my own business if you like, but why are you so strung out? You really need to relax.’
‘I can’t talk about it.’
‘OK. But I can teach you something, calm you down if you want.’
‘Go on then.’
‘Do you know the heart-brain has forty thousand neurons?’ asked Precious.
‘What?’
‘Every time your heart beats, it sends information to the head-brain, and that regulates ANS signals.’
‘ANS?’ echoed Layla.
‘Automatic Nervous System.’
‘You lost me back at “relax”.’
‘And you’ve got to relax, Layla. Look, try this. Whenever you feel stressed, put your hand on your heart, breathe slowly, and think of a happy time in your life. Give it a go now.’
‘That’s bullshit,’ said Layla.
‘Try it.’
Layla closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart. She breathed deeply, slowly. Thought of Orla Delaney, lying dead and bloody on the floor.
Her eyes shot open.
‘Close ’em,’ said Precious. ‘Relax. Breathe. Happy times. Think of the happiest time you can remember.’
She was out on the Maria, Alberto’s yacht, on New York Sound. She was ten years old, and he was there, bronzed and godlike, telling her to watch out for the boom, and the sails were luffing, and then they spun about, into the wind, and the Maria shot along like a bird in flight. She’d been so happy, then. So very happy.
‘OK, you can open them now.’
Layla’s eyes flickered open. She felt calmer. Her heart was beating slow and easy. She looked at Precious.
‘How did you do that?’ she demanded.
Precious smiled and returned her attention to her textbook. ‘Simple standard relaxation technique. A child could do it. And now you can too.’
‘What was that thing called again? The amyg-’
‘Amygdala.’
Layla nodded and let Precious get back to her work. Had she reacted emotionally, killed Orla because she was of low intelligence? No. Of course she wasn’t.