by Anna Edwards
“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you that we don’t have pink and purple Lego, so you wouldn’t be interested anyway.
“I think it was on the tip of his tongue, but Victoria purposely stood on his foot with her Louboutin’s to shut him up before he dug an even bigger hole for himself.”
“That’s my brother for you!” I roll my eyes and pat the bean bag next to me for her to take a seat.
“Did you make all these?” Tamara asks as she gracefully lowers herself until she’s sitting with her legs tucked under her bottom. She’s wearing blue jeans and a maroon sweater today. It seems strange not to see her in the skirts and blouses she favors.
“I did…well, except for a few small bits. Nicholas was never good at following instructions.”
“I can see him being that way.”
“You’ve no idea.” I crack another smile. Tamara goes quiet. “Is everything alright?” I ask her.
“Yes.” She looks up at me, but I can’t meet her eyes. I flick my ear then my nose. I know I’m doing it, but it’s not something I can stop.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ok,” I reply hesitantly.
“I’ve got this meeting in an hour, and I wondered if you would come with me? I volunteer at a daycare center whenever I can, and it’d be good for the children to meet a real-life Earl.”
“I don’t know.” My initial thought is one of terror. Lots of people and noisy children.
“Please,” Tamara almost whispers her plea, and I simply can’t say no.
“Alright. I’ll get ready to go.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tamara
The car pulls up outside the day care center, and I can’t help but feel a little nervous. I’ve not told William the entire truth about this visit because I know he wouldn’t have come. I just hope he’s prepared to forgive me because I think he needs to see this place.
The driver opens my car door, and William comes around to my side to help me out of the car.
“If I end up with anything sticky on my clothes, you’re washing it off. I don’t like getting my hands dirty.”
I click my tongue at him and walk off with a sway of my hips. “You forget. I’ve seen you eat. That’s where anything sticky on you will come from.”
“Hey!” he calls indignantly after me, but I can hear the amusement in his voice. He catches up with me, and I link my arm through his offered one. “When did you start coming here?”
“I was doing a certificate at school when I was sixteen – for part of it I needed to do some voluntary work for thirty hours. The Viscount helped me to find a place here. I stayed on afterward and help out whenever I can.”
“Sounds good. So, is it just like a nursery? I don’t really know the term day care,” William asks, holding the door open for me to walk into the reception.
“Sort of,” I reply, and before he has a chance to question me further, I’m speeding toward the receptionist, a short, grey haired lady called Eve. She’s been working here since before I started, and I’m sure she told me she started back in the early nineties. She doesn’t get paid for her job. She does it out of the kindness of her heart. They’ve tried to offer her a salary on numerous occasions, but each time, she’s said no.
“Tamara, I heard you were coming in. Fantastic to see you.” The spirited lady, who’s age I’d guess is in the late fifties, jumps to her feet and comes around the reception desk to greet me with a big hug. “Congratulations. I hear you’re qualified now. We’re all so proud of you. You worked so hard. I bet you’ve already got a job lined up at one of those prestigious London firms.”
I can’t help but laugh at her excitement over the fact I’m now a qualified lawyer. “I’ve got a place at one, yes. I’ve still not decided if I’m going to take it up straight away or have a year's break to explore the world a bit. I need to juggle my finances a bit.”
“You deserve a bit of a holiday after all that studying. Mind you, I remember you telling me about the night life as well, so it wasn’t all hard work.”
I laugh. “Well, I was at university. I needed to live a little.”
“How’s Victoria? I heard she’s married now, and a Duchess as well.”
“She is married. Nicholas is wonderful, and they’re so happy. It’s not public knowledge, yet, but they have a baby on the way.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic. You’ll have to tell her to come by and see us soon. We’ve missed her. I can’t believe her father never let her come here after he found out about the two male nurses we have. They’re both happily married and were unlikely to be a threat to her innocence. Mind you, if his over protectiveness landed her a Duke, then who are we to complain?”
“Yes.” It’s the only word I can form. I can’t tell her the full story of what a bastard Victoria’s father is, and how she was lucky it was Nicholas she met and not someone like the old Duke. “I almost forgot...” I bluster, trying to disguise the quick change in direction of my conversation. “This is Nicholas’ brother, William Cavendish, Earl Lullington. I’ve brought him to see the children.”
“Oh my god. Why didn’t you say sooner? I’ve only just got here. I didn’t know we were having guests.” Eve presents a little curtsy in front of William. “Your Earlship, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Eve Kitchener. It’s fabulous to have you come visit our little place.”
“Please call me William.” He extends his hand and accepting it, she shakes it. I know this is hard for him to do, making pleasant conversation when he’d rather be hidden away. “Tamara has told me she’s been helping here since she was sixteen. I’m intrigued to meet the children.”
“I’m sure you’ll love them. They have their quirks, but they’re all fantastic little human beings.”
“I’m sure I will,” William replies, and I can’t help but smile toward him. He may think he’s destined for the shadows, but he’s being the perfect gentleman, and I haven’t seen him tic once.
“Tamara”–Eve turns back to me– “I’ll get you both badges, but have you warned William about some of the children and their possible reactions to things?”
The moment of truth. I swallow deeply and turn to William.
“You were asking me if this was a regular nursery. It isn’t – it’s a place for parents to bring their autistic children for interaction, advice, and help.”
“Autistic?” The word leaves William’s mouth the same time as his hand goes to his ear and flicks it.
“Yes.”
“I see why you wanted to bring me and not Nicholas, then,” he states bluntly, and I instantly see the regret cross his face at allowing the comment to escape.
“It isn’t like that. I promise you.”
Eve bites her lip and steps back to allow us some privacy.
“I don’t need to see others like me to know I’m wired wrong.”
“That’s not why I brought you here. This place has been helping children ever since the onset of better diagnosis and understanding of autism, in the early nineties. You and I both know of the intolerance to it in your world. I just wanted you to see that in the wider world it’s more common than you think. If you speak to any of the doctors here, they will tell you that with advances in assessment, it will be more common to be on the spectrum than not in a few years.
“But you know what I’m like?” William lowers his voice and leans into me.
“You won’t hurt anyone here. Please. Just five minutes. If it’s too much, we’ll leave.”
“Five minutes,” William states as Eve comes back to us with badges, and I exhale the breath I’ve been holding since he realized the nature of the center we’re now in.
“Please go through, they’re expecting you.” Eve smiles at me, and I nod a little thanks to her. William takes hold of my arm as I lead him through the security doors.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“I need to know things, Tamara. I was prepared to meet normal children. I can already
feel my heart beating faster because a surprise has been sprung on me. I can’t handle them. You have to be honest with me, or you risk a meltdown.”
“I didn’t think you’d come if I told you the real reason.”
“I probably wouldn’t have,” William responds truthfully. “But you have to give me a chance, and a choice.”
“I will, next time.”
William goes silent as we stand in front of another door. It’s closed, but behind it, I can hear the happy chatter and laughter of children. He flicks his ear and then his nose. I give him a minute to compose himself, but his movements are getting worse. His fists clench then unclench in between the tics. I know he’s struggling. I open my mouth and softly sing.
“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word,
Mama’s going to buy you a mocking bird.
And if that mockingbird don’t sing,
Mama’s going to buy you a diamond ring.”
His fists unclench, and his arms lower to his side. He takes a deep inhalation and then nods.
“I’m ready.”
I push open the door, and we are greeted with lots of happy, smiling faces. Many are children, but some are adults. The staff wear black t-shirts with a little puzzle piece in the corner. Off to the left is a room, which I know to be the sensory room. It’s furnished with small beds, and there are soft bricks of varying sizes in it. The lights are low intensity and multi-colored. It’s been purposefully designed, so it won’t overstimulate the younger children, but it will allow them to play and explore. At the back of the main area is a computer room for the older children, containing a PlayStation and X-Box, along with several high spec Mac computers. They are monitored by staff because we once had a child who was so high functioning he tried to hack into MI5. I’ve watched some of the children in there before, and I’m amazed by the skills they possess in relation to coding and computer programing. I’m not in the least surprised everything is monitored by our tech genius, Dave. Off to the right is a small kitchen with a few tables for people to sit at and eat if they want to. Cooked meals can’t be prepared here, but people can make sandwiches and the like. This area of the building is specifically for the day care parents. It’s a place for mums and dads to come and talk to other parents as well as to highly trained staff members who are available at all times, offering advice. This is not all the center provides, though. It also has respite and permanent housing facilities for those who need a break or can’t live alone. In fact, this place has everything needed to help those with autism live life to the fullest.
“Hello.” A little boy stands at William’s legs. I’ve seen him before and know him as Cory. He reaches out and touches the material of William’s formal trousers before quickly pulling his hand back. His little face creases up as though he’s musing on something, and then he reaches out and touches the fabric again. “I like your trousers.”
Shifting my gaze to William I see his hand start to lift toward his face, but he stops its progression and instead holds it out to Cory.
“Hello, I’m William,” he informs the little boy and kneels down, so he’s at his level. “Can I tell you a secret? I like your trousers better.” Cory looks down at his jogging bottoms and then back at William. “I usually like to be comfortable, but I thought I should dress up today. If I’d known you’d be wearing jogging bottoms, I would’ve as well.”
A woman pushes through the crowd of people starting to assemble around us. She’s Cory’s mum.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, grabbing the little boy and pulling him to her. “He’s got a thing about different fabrics. I hope he hasn’t made your trousers dirty.”
“Please. It doesn’t matter. I was just telling him I wish I’d worn my jogging bottoms like him. I feel overdressed.”
“You’re an important man. I’m sure nobody minds what you wear.” The young mum blushes, and I try to stifle a laugh when I realize she thinks William is attractive. Certainly, with his broad shoulders, imposing height, and stunning good looks, he’s the most desirable man I’ve ever met.
“Thank you.” William immediately looks down to the ground, not being sure how to handle the compliment.
“Cory.” A little girl approaches us. I scan my brain, struggling to recall her name, but when she places her hands on her hips, I see the supports on her wrists and remember straight away this is Lexie. As well as being on the spectrum, she also has hyper-mobility and dyspraxia. “You weren’t supposed to touch the Earl. That’s what they told us during the talk this morning. They said smile politely, don’t touch him, and don’t talk to him unless he speaks to you first. We have to follow the rules.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Cory’s little bottom lip quivers as though he’s going to cry. “I couldn’t help it. I needed to know what his trousers felt like.”
Lexie keeps her hands on her hips, and for a minute I think she’s going to tell the poor boy off again. She doesn’t though, instead, she gives him a cuddle, and then pulls him off to play with his still blushing mother in tow.
“You ok?” I check with William.
“Yes. You know I did the same thing once. My father had a guest he was trying to con out of money, and the man had on these velvet looking trousers. I really wanted to know what they felt like. The only problem was I’d been painting with my nanny. When they entered the nursery, my hands were covered in bright green paint, and I smeared it all over his trousers when I touched him. My father didn’t get the money he wanted, and I got a hiding and relegated to my room for a few days. We were never allowed paints in the house again.” He looks down at his hands as though remembering the green paint that was once on them. “Maybe, I should ask Nicholas if we can get some?”
“Why ask? If you want something just get it.”
William turns his head to look at me as though he can’t quite understand what I’m saying.
“It’s Nicholas’ house. I have to obey his rules.”
“Has he told you that?” I question.
“No, but it’s just what happens.”
I fall silent and make a mental note to tell Nicholas of this revelation when I return to the house. I’m pretty certain he’d prefer William to have whatever he wanted and not have to ask for it.
“Tamara…Earl Lullington.” One of the doctor’s steps forward and presents a little bow to William who shakes his hand. “My name is Dr. Brown. It’s lovely to have you both here. The children have been very excited since Tamara’s call earlier. Tamara is very popular with them, and I’m sure you will be loved as well, My Lord.”
“Please. Call me William. ‘My Lord’ is for my slightly more formal and stubborn brother.”
“Of course. Has Tamara told you details of our facilities?”
William looks toward me.
“I’ve given him a brief tour and overview,” I offer by way of an explanation.
“Not a problem. Our facilities here are for children and adults with formal diagnosis on the spectrum. We don’t turn anyone away, though. We simply help them liaise with the appropriate doctors to find a solution. We currently have ten long-term residents, varying in age and range of diagnosis.” The doctor starts to walk through the rooms, showing everything to William as he goes. I stand back and observe him as he takes it all in. He asks many sensible questions, and I can see he’s finally relaxing after the initial shock.
“I’m not sure if Tamara has told you, but I’m on the spectrum myself.” William tells the doctor.
“She hasn’t, but I’ve seen in your mannerisms and lack of eye contact that you might be. I’ve worked most of my life with children and adults, having all levels of diagnosis, so I recognize the traits straight away.”
“I’m that obvious.” William laughs nervously.
“Not at all. For someone with different social behaviors to the norm, you are doing extremely well.”
“Thank you,” William offers, and I gently take his hand. He allows me to do so and wraps his fingers around mine.
“Can I ask you something?” William says as he steps aside to let a little child go running past with headphones on to shield against the noise.
“Of course, please, if I can help in anyway?”
“How much does having autism shape who you are? Can it cause a darkness within you?”
The doctor opens and shuts his eyes rapidly, shocked at the question.
“That’s a difficult question. There have been people who’ve committed crimes and have either had issues before or are subsequently diagnosed to be on the spectrum, but autism doesn’t make someone inherently evil. It’s just a question of different wiring. In relation to the nature versus nurture debate, I believe any darkness comes from the way someone is raised and their life experiences rather than innately from birth. I don’t think you have to worry about an evil side though. I’ve found over the years that Tamara is an excellent judge of character, and so are some of these children. They’ve warmed to you already, which demonstrates to me the make-up of the person you are.” The doctor smiles at William and I know inside his head his thoughts must be going a mile a minute. The doctor lowers his head in a bow again before returning to a nearby mum, trying to calm a distressed child whose jigsaw piece is missing.
“Do you want to go?” I look up at William. We are still holding hands.
He shakes his head.
“No. I like it here. It’s calming.”
“They do wonders. I’m so glad I found it.”
William gazes out across the people in the room, and I see his stare focus in on a father and son. They are cuddling up together on a chair, reading a book about space together. His face goes blank, and I can no longer read his emotions.
“It was him all along. It was never me.” He bends down and presses a kiss to my head. “I wasn’t the one who was wrong.”
