Louise peered over her bifocals. “Are you sure? You’ve got a very busy day.”
“Yes, yes - send her through.”
Through the darkened glass to the waiting room, he copped a look at a young woman as she stood up and reached for her briefcase. Jack grinned. Held the door open for her to walk ahead of him in her tight, black skirt suit. Louise was watching him, the interfering old baggage, but so what? What was wrong with starting the day off with a good-looking young woman crossing and uncrossing her legs while she asked him to prescribe her drug? She might even have a tempting invitation in store - a conference abroad and a few days in a 5 star hotel, would be most welcome, for example.
“Don’t keep him long, Hayley!” Louise called after the girl. “He’s got a full schedule.”
Hayley sat down opposite him and duly crossed her long, black-stockinged legs. Flicked a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes, then bent down to reach into her briefcase.
Jack’s gaze lingered on the small area of creamy flesh where her blouse strained across her chest, letting it travel down to the contours of her outer thighs, which filled her skirt.
When the girl looked up she was flushed. Smiled. “And how are you today, Jack?”
“I’m very well. Yourself?”
Their eyes met and a tacit message of sexual attraction was exchanged.
“Thanks, yes. Actually, I have some good news. You asked if there were any overseas conferences coming up and we have one in March. Vienna. I’ve got the agenda here if you’d like to look it over?”
I’d like to look you over…
He leaned forwards and took the proffered brochure. “Thanks, I appreciate that… Ah I see Kristy Silver’s lecturing. Excellent. Four days too. Can you book me a place?”
She nodded. “Absolutely.”
“And will you be going?”
She flushed crimson, the burn spreading like a bush fire up her neck and into her cheeks. “Yes.”
Neither said anything while he scanned the conference agenda and handed it back. “Looks good. I’ll get Louise to make a note of the days. Just a second…” He buzzed through. “Louise, can you bring in some coffee?” He looked at Hayley. “Milk and sugar?”
Hayley mouthed the words, “Just milk.”
“Oh and can you bring in the diary?” He clicked off the intercom and grinned. “She won’t like that one bit!”
“Making me coffee?”
He shook his head and laughed.
“Jack - I wanted to ask you if you’d received the paper I had sent over to you on combination therapy. Did you have any success with the patient you were talking about - the violent one with psychotic symptoms who didn’t respond to anything?”
He never divulged the names of his patients, but the few reps who came to see him did have an abundance of resources on the pharmaceutical treatment of forensic clients. Those like Hayley specialised in a high level service - organising workshops and conferences, finding particular clinical papers, even experimental anecdotes from other psychiatrists. But they had their limits.
He nodded. Sighed. “Yes. And we tried it.”
As the coffee was brought in by Louise, Hayley asked, “I’m presuming it didn’t work?”
“Thanks, Louise,” said Jack. “By the way, can you put 4th - 9th March in the diary for conference dates? Just block them out for the moment.
“Sorry, Hayley - no it didn’t. I’ve actually decided to try hypnosis. I’ve taken her off everything except a small dose of haloperidol, so we’ll see what happens. I think we’re talking P.T.S.D. from a childhood incident, probably abuse, so if I can get to the root cause, maybe we can help her better.”
Hayley took a sip of coffee. “You know a thought just occurred to me. This is totally off the wall, but one of my customers and I won’t say who obviously, but he was telling me about a very disturbed, violent young, male client he’d used hypnosis on. What he did, though, was add in a small dose of LSD - just 0.1mgs. Apparently it worked unbelievably well. I’m not for one minute suggesting it - but anyway, it popped into my head. Sometimes the most bizarre things can get a result.” She laughed. “And no - I’m not selling it!”
Jack smiled. “I think you could sell me anything, young lady!”
Again she flushed. “Only if it’s on the bloody formulary!”
He agreed. “Ah yes, that! You wanted me to write that letter and I completely forgot.”
She smiled widely. “I’d really appreciate it. Once it’s on the formulary here, I can tell my GP reps it’s used at the hospital and the poor things can make a few sales. If you could come and talk to the GPs sometime too - there’ll be a good fee and I’ll find a posh restaurant!”
“No problem. You’ve got a good product. You know, though…” He did that thing of taking off his glasses and rubbing his face, then putting them on again. “Going back to LSD for a minute: they prescribed it regularly in the 50’s and 60’s until the hippies started using it to get stoned. But there’s plenty of documentation with excellent results for unlocking trauma, so it’s not as off the wall as you might think. Just not sure some of the others in the team would agree…”
“Don’t tell them?”
He smiled.
“No seriously - do you have to have a team meeting for every little thing you prescribe?”
He looked at her. Puffed his chest up a little. “Of course not.”
“Well there you go. Personally it sounds like this person is in a living hell and if you can help her out of it, then why not?”
She delved into her briefcase, providing a view of her white lace bra and the slight swell of a breast. When she stood up, thanking him for his time and apologising for keeping him so long, he found himself holding onto her outstretched hand for just that little bit too long. “How about dinner sometime?” he heard his voice saying. Was he crazy?
She smiled. “That would be lovely.”
His gaze lingered as she retreated down the corridor to hand in her security card. He watched the shape of her - the small, nipped in waist and rounded curves.
“Jack…”
He’d still got it. Oh, he’d still got it all right! Sly old dog that he was! She’d smiled right into his eyes.
“Jack…”
And such pillow-soft skin. Imagine laying his head in between….
“Jack!”
He spun round to face Louise - his personal secretary of these past fifteen years - glaring at him. “Jack you spent twenty minutes with that rep, and you have a client waiting in the treatment room. Becky’s just rung down to see where you are!”
Still smiling, Jack bounded up the stairs towards the treatment room with renewed vigour. LSD. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that himself?
***
Chapter Five
The treatment room had been designed for both relaxation and safety. From the large, double glazed window there was a breathtaking view of wild moor land, painted that day in a glory of purple heather. Clouds scudded across the sky, a weak winter sun chasing shadows over jutting rocks, a kestrel hovering with fluttering, hunched wings.
Jack pulled the blinds, and slats of crystal light filtered onto the walls. Next to his armchair there was a panic button; and high on the walls, tiny blue lights inside cameras, signified he and his client would be observed by security staff.
Overhead, fluorescent tubes fizzed, and bulky radiators thumped out suffocating heat. There were no other sounds, save for the wind buffering the solid walls, occasionally rattling the windows.
A small comfortable sofa had been placed beside the window, and in the far corner of the room there was a desk and another chair. A couple of Monets broke the monotony of magnolia paintwork. And the whole room smelled of floor polish.
Ruby sat curled up on the sofa like a small child with her knees drawn up to her chest, holding tightly onto Becky’s hand. Only the slight judder of her legs and the occasional tic in her jaw, gave away the use of anti-psychotic drugs.
<
br /> Jack sat down. “Are you feeling okay, Ruby?”
Barely perceptibly, she nodded.
He raised an eyebrow. Exchanged a look with Becky. This was not her usual behaviour. Normally Ruby would be eying him suspiciously, recoiling visibly, and kicking out if he got too close.
Today though, apart from the dystonia, she appeared to be almost inhumanly calm, gazing fixedly on the far wall with her pale blue eyes unfocused and glassy. Not really there, Jack thought. Far, far away…
Who knew when the monster would leap out of that tranquillity, though? They’d all been caught out before.
“Ruby, you know we want to help you, don’t you?”
No response.
“Thing is - I have something new I’d like to try. Is that okay with you?”
No response.
Then faintly, oh so faintly…Jack strained his ears… there came the silvery humming of an old nursery rhyme, as if it had arrived on a mystical breeze from a time long, long ago…‘Four and twenty blackbirds…’
Fairy-like, he recalled later, a tinkling, ethereal tune, which gradually increased in strength and volume as he explained about the tiny dose of LSD and the gentle hypnosis technique he’d like to try. Anytime she wanted to stop or if she became too distressed, he would bring her out of it. And Becky would be with her the whole time.
The humming became a crescendo. He glanced at Becky. This wasn’t going to work, was it? She was blocking him out.
Then suddenly it stopped. Ruby turned and looked at him with a clear, somewhat challenging expression, snatched and swallowed the proffered tablet, then folded her arms across her chest and waited.
A sharp gust of wind shook the window.
“Why don’t you lie down and get comfy?” Becky suggested. “I’ll fetch a chair over, so if you feel worried about anything you know where I am.”
Ruby ignored the advice to lie down, watching Becky go and get the chair.
When Becky returned, Jack’s voice had softened and blurred, dropping to a velvety monotone with a story about how he used to read alone in his tree house as a child - how the wind whistled through the wooden slats, and he’d thought he was the only boy in the world with a secret hideaway. “Sometimes,” he said, “I need to go back to that place in my head. When life’s a bit difficult. You know how that is, don’t you Ruby? When life’s getting tough and you need a place to lie low?”
Later he recalled her total stillness, like a character paused on video mid-movement, eyes half closed even though her body was taut, head at a slight angle. Continuing gently, he asked her to imagine a place of her own: white and clean with the sun shining through every window. Talked her through the view of a sparkling, rippling ocean - the tide washing in and out, in and out; curtains shimmering in the summer breeze, feeling warm and safe, limbs heavier and heavier, dropping into a doze. She could go there anytime she wanted. Would she like to go there now?
Encouragingly, she nodded.
“I’m going to count down from twenty…down, down…eighteen….down and down…eleven, ten….three, two. And one.”
“Have a look around now, Ruby, and make the room your own. ”
Twenty minutes passed in this way, until Ruby began to rock back and forth and the humming resumed.
“Stay there as long as you like…you’re completely safe…okay? How old are you here, Ruby?”
The humming stopped abruptly. Her head flicked around to face him and a sly mask of pure malice slid across her delicate features, before the face contorted into an all-knowing, mocking leer.
Jack frowned. Had she switched to an alter personality?
He looked over at Becky, who shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.
“Ruby? Who am I talking to? Can I talk to Ruby please?”
In response her entire body began to twitch and then convulse.
This they’d seen many times before - Ruby throwing herself around violently, head twisting from side to side and her eyes rolling back in her head. She fell to the floor, kicking and spitting, pulling at her hair, body writhing and arching in spasms.
Becky grabbed the pillow from the sofa and tried to put it under Ruby’s head, then reached for her panic alarm. They’d need back up for their own protection as well as Ruby’s.
Jack kept his voice level and calm, never taking his eyes from her. “It’s okay, Ruby. You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. Try and relax. Let Becky help you and we’ll bring you out of this.”
Security arrived. Jack looked over his shoulder and motioned them to hold fire. He needed to bring her round before restraint took place, if possible. “ Hold tight. Give me a minute!”
They waited. Everyone watched, transfixed.
Ruby’s body had contorted into a grotesque shape. Her fine-boned face was grinning like a medieval gargoyle with its tongue flicking in and out, and her neck jutted out at a painfully dystonic angle. Her glassy blue eyes had darkened to nearly black, the pupils distended and dilated - probably due to the LSD, Jack assumed, as he carefully monitored her reaction. The dose he’d given was 0.1mgs and although she had a slight frame, she should not have had anything like this kind of reaction. His mind was working quick fire along these lines, when suddenly Ruby’s body slumped and her head rolled back. Then from between her legs a trickle of urine seeped into a pool on the floor. It looked as though the fitting was over. Jack continued to squat next to her, watching every nuance. A line of blood and spittle around her mouth. A wash of sweat on her skin. She was little more than a rag doll. Dear me, this child was ill.
The following second of time passed as if in slow motion - Becky finally managing to put the pillow firmly under her charge’s head, and the security staff beginning to unlock the door. Adrenalin receding like an ebbing tide. Before Jack, wanting to bring her round as gently as he could, said one word, “Ruby.”
In less than a heartbeat the room darkened and the temperature plummeted to freezing, along with a long, low whistle like an express train within the room itself.
Someone gasped. Someone’s pulse pounding like gunfire - was it his own? Because the desk - the heavy oak one in the corner - appeared to be scraping slowly along the floor towards the door entirely of its own volition. Becky was back in her chair - except, bizarrely - it was at the far end of the room and facing the wall. And Security seemed unable to enter the room, repeatedly rattling at the door with a key. Jack tried to lever to his feet but remained rooted as if in treacle, at the precise moment the wooden desk shot neatly into place, slamming against the door and effectively locking out the security staff.
Then slowly, oh so slowly, Ruby raised her head and met his shocked stare with an expression of pure triumph. Her eyes were totally black now, with red pinhole pupils. Her smile one of spiteful enjoyment. He reeled backwards like he’d been slapped, as a deep male voice boomed from her mouth.
“Hello, Doctor. Welcome to the Kingdom.”
Overhead, the lights flickered on and off. Mostly off. The intercom machine fell to the floor and the blinds whizzed up and down several times.
“We said, ‘Good morning,’” said the voice. A hissing followed, which seemed to be coming from within Ruby’s throat. “I think we’re going to have some fun - what do you say?”
He couldn’t move. At all. Nor speak. A look of puzzled horror froze his features, as Ruby’s voice began to recount every last detail of his life. Punctuated with obscenities of the type he nor anyone he knew would ever use…“Fancied a fuck with that loose piece of pussy this morning, Mr family man? You filthy low down mother-fucking dog… Planning to fuck, fuck, fuck her in a hotel, you slimy, lying piece of shit! Burn her soles with crosses, Jack my boy! Make her scream!”
It occurred to him with a lurch of panic, that Becky was able to hear this. Becky - her frozen back motionless. His logical mind tried to cut through the panic.
What the hell was this? How come she knew stuff? Why couldn’t he, nor anyone else, move? How to stop this? How to stop the toxin
coming out of her mouth?
“You fucking two-faced hypocritical cock-sucking twat. Still fucking your wife up the arse, leaving her at home pumping milk into your fat brats while you fan-ta-sise… about a va-sec-tomy…ha ha ha ! You fucked that student, didn’t you - oh what was her name, let me see? Ah yes…” Ruby’s body sat bolt upright, opened her legs, began to rub herself… “…oh yes… Marie! Marie, Marie….that red-headed cunt medical student you got your cock out for when your wife was pregnant!”
He couldn’t close his ears. Or worse - anyone else’s. Forced to listen while the filth droned on and on about his mother, teenage humiliations with girls in nightclub toilets, or even once, God forbid, in the hospital morgue after a med-student party. “Oh dear, you just can’t keep your cock zipped in can you doctor? Not even when you’re on your own in your car? Admit it - what a dirty, evil slime ball bag of shit you really are…Not really fit to be human, ha ha … and now it’s all going to get soooo much worse for you…with all your filthy, fanny-licking secrets going to come out! So much salacious gossip - how deli-cious! Unless, unless… ha ha ha …..and here’s the deal…”
The pause was filled with hissing and gurgling noises, like slime monsters down a well. His medical reasoning began to lope down the route of Disassociative Identity Disorder. How many alters did she have? Did this evil one become the host at a time of threat? It could have been transposed from her aggressor? Even if that were the case, though, it still didn’t explain how she, or the alter, knew so much about him. His colleagues would never look at him the same way again! He ran this place. People looked up to him. This was his whole career. His life. Oh God it had to stop.
His brain rampaged through potential exit strategies.
What deal?
“That’s better, Doctor Jack. A deal! You see, we are the Kingdom. You recognise us, you know who we are. We are not a medical condition. We know….everything…and we will turn your life to shit. We will expose you for what you are and shatter your precious ego into a million splinters…unless you desist this line of treatment. Desist…” The final word seemed to be a cacophony of voices - a choir of such power it lifted the hair from his scalp and flipped his stomach… “Do not finish this. Stop it Now!”
Father of Lies Page 4
