by Joanna Neil
‘So, do you think that all Mollie’s compulsions are an expression of what’s wrong at home?’
‘I think it’s very likely. They could be a way of giving herself control over situations. She could be using them as a protective measure.’
Sam’s mood eased as the afternoon wore on, and Megan was relieved about that. She was sharing his house for the time being and she didn’t want to be at loggerheads with him.
He took her home at the end of the day, and they picked up a take-away meal so that neither of them would have to cook.
‘Do you want to go and have a look at the beach this evening?’ he asked her as they were piling plates into the dishwasher. ‘It’s been warm all day, and it should make a pleasant walk along the shore.’
Her blue eyes were troubled as she looked at him. ‘I would have loved that,’ she said unhappily. ‘It’s just that I spoke to Jenny at lunchtime, and she was feeling very low. I said that I would go and see her this evening. I think she needs cheering up.’ She tried to gauge his reaction, but he wasn’t revealing anything of what he was thinking. ‘Perhaps we could go for a walk along the beach tomorrow?’
‘As you like.’
She said carefully, ‘I expect you’ll be glad to have me out from under your feet most days. I don’t want be a nuisance while I’m here.’
‘If I thought you were that, I wouldn’t have suggested that you come here in the first place,’ he said tersely. ‘You must do as you please, come and go as you please.’
The children were in bed and asleep when Megan arrived at Jenny’s house about an hour later, and Jenny looked as though she was glad of the rest.
‘How are you?’ Megan asked, looking at Jenny and trying to gauge her state of mind. ‘It sounded as though things were getting on top of you when we talked earlier.’
‘I’m all right now, I think. Ben had been throwing one of his tantrums all morning. I wanted to take the children to the shops and I thought we would try a different way of getting there because there was a traffic hold-up in town. You know how Ben is—he reacts very badly to anything out of the ordinary routine.’
‘It must be difficult for you. It’s not surprising that you feel low at times.’ She threw Jenny a sympathetic glance, then ventured, ‘I wondered if you would like someone to come in and help you in the daytime? Perhaps a community nurse could come in and talk to you and give you some support. I could arrange it through your GP, if you like.’
‘Maybe,’ Jenny said. ‘I’ll think about it. Anyway, you must tell me more about what happened at the flat. You didn’t say very much when you phoned earlier. How soon will the workmen be in to put everything right?’
‘Sam has been in touch with a firm already, and they’ll be making a start tomorrow.’ He was probably in a hurry to get her out of his place, and she didn’t blame him for that. He must already be regretting his generosity, given the rumours that had flown about the hospital that morning.
They talked for an hour or so, and Jenny said, ‘I’ve got something to show you. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw it this afternoon, and I can’t wait for you to see it for yourself.’
‘What is it?’ Megan watched curiously as Jenny went to a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper.
‘Do you remember the other day, when you and Sam took the children to the zoo? Ben did some pictures, and he wouldn’t let us look at them.’
Megan nodded. ‘I remember.’
‘This is one of the pictures that he drew.’ Jenny thrust it towards her. ‘I just couldn’t believe my eyes, but he’s done more since then, from memory.’
Megan looked down at the paper. It was a sketch of the elephant compound, and every detail was there, the arrangement of the rocks in the background and the indoor enclosure, the trees, the water and the double set of railings that circled the compound. It was difficult to believe that a small child had sketched it.
She looked up at Jenny, her eyes wide. ‘It’s incredible. He’s captured every bit of it, almost as though he had taken a photograph of it. I can’t believe a three-year-old could draw something like this.’ Ben was nearly four years old now but, even so, his drawing was spectacular.
‘Now you can see how amazed I was. I’ve always known that he wasn’t quite like other children, but this makes him something special, doesn’t it?’
Megan nodded. ‘Yes, I think it does.’
Jenny said slowly, ‘I think you have some idea of what’s wrong with him.’ She looked at Megan steadily. ‘You do, don’t you? I had the feeling that you were keeping something to yourself—perhaps you wanted to protect me—but I want you to tell me what it is.’
Megan ran the tip of her tongue over her dry lips. Perhaps this was the right time to break the news. After all, Jenny already had some idea. She said, ‘Sometimes children like Ben find it difficult to communicate with others, and it seems as though they are living in a separate world from us. It’s hard for us to know what they’re thinking and what they are feeling.’ She looked carefully at Jenny and added softly, ‘I think Ben is autistic.’
Jenny seemed to be trying to absorb that, but said nothing, and Megan went on, ‘No one child with autism has exactly the same problem as another. There are individual differences, but every now and again there are children who have very special talents or skills, and it looks as though Ben is one of those. I think he’s one of those children who are at the higher functioning end of the scale. It looks very much as if Ben has Asperger’s syndrome.’
‘Does Sam think the same way?’
Megan nodded. ‘Yes, he does. He said he was going to see if there was anything that can be done to help Ben. He hasn’t got back to me yet on that.’
Jenny said, with an odd little smile, ‘Do you know, in a way it’s a relief to have a name for what’s wrong with him? I feel as though I’ve been in a fog for such a long time, and now it’s as though the fog is clearing a little. I couldn’t do anything when I didn’t understand, but now I can think about what it all means and what there is to be done.’
It was late when Megan arrived back at Sam’s house, but he was still up. He was in the living room, some papers out on a table in front of him, and it looked as though he had been working. He looked tired, and she wondered how many nights he spent thinking about his work and his patients.
‘How did it go?’ he asked, and she told him about the pictures, and about Jenny’s reaction to his diagnosis.
‘I wondered if he had a special interest,’ he said. ‘You said that he was always making patterns out of anything that came to hand, and you said that he loved colour. I had that in mind when I made enquiries about finding a therapist for him.’
She sent him a startled look. ‘Have you found someone?’
‘I think I may have done—there are no guarantees that she could help him, you understand. A lot depends on the individual child and how he responds to therapy, but the person I have in mind is very good with children like Ben. She wants to see Ben in his own home first of all, so that she can assess him and decide what treatment will be best for him. I’ll need to get in touch with Jenny to make the arrangements.’
‘Oh, Sam… I knew you would come up with something…’ Megan slid down onto the settee beside him. A flood of happiness was surging through her and she leaned forward and flung her arms around him and hugged him to her. ‘I’ve seen the way you work,’ she said joyfully, ‘and you’re so clever, so thorough… You never give up… I’m so grateful to you.’
Her cheek rested against his, and there was a moment of utter stillness, of startled reaction, and then his arms went around her, tightening possessively. He pulled her to him, and the softness of her breasts was crushed against the hard wall of his chest. Her body flamed in joyous response and she tilted her face to look up at him.
He stared down at her, golden embers flickering in the depths of his grey eyes, and then after a heartbeat of time, his mouth found hers and he was kissing her, a thorough kiss, long and hard a
nd full on the mouth, his whole body taut and fiercely demanding.
Megan felt the world spin about her. Every fibre of her being was energised, involved, taken up in that electrifying kiss. She had never felt this way before. No man had ever sparked such a tumultuous, mind-shattering blaze of desire in her. She loved the feel of his arms around her, the heady sound of his heart beating against hers, thunderous and out of control.
Shakily, her fingers explored the strong column of his neck, tangled in the silky hair at his nape, and wanted more. They slid down over the powerful, bunched muscles of his arms and revelled in that strength, that surging fierce demand that would meld her body to his in searing contact.
He urged her back onto the cushions of the settee, and as she sank backwards the heel of her shoe nudged the hard edge of the coffee-table and set it rocking. There was a crash, and they both looked on in shocked dismay as it tumbled onto its side and everything on top of it fell to the floor and covered the carpet in a chaotic paper trail.
Speechless, they both stared down at the mess until Sam said, ‘Well, that was an earthquake and a half.’
What had she done? Megan was feverishly conscious that she had started the whole thing, and now his evening’s work was all over the floor. What on earth had she been thinking of?
She looked at him in dismay, her mind working overtime. She had acted completely out of character, lunging at him without a moment’s thought. When he had time to think about it, would he regret his instant, hot-blooded male reaction?
He had been at pains to let their colleagues at the hospital know that there was nothing going on between them, and now she had gone and ruined everything.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what I was doing,’ she muttered, trying to find a way to explain herself. ‘It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing… I wasn’t thinking straight when I threw myself at you. I don’t normally behave that way. I don’t want you to think that I was coming on to you.’
He didn’t say anything at all, just looked into her panicked blue eyes, but his expression was guarded, and for the moment she had no idea what she ought to say or do. She knelt down and began to pick up the papers, shuffling them into some semblance of order.
‘It was as much my fault as it was yours,’ he said eventually in a roughened tone. ‘If I had stopped to think, it wouldn’t have happened.’ He straightened the table and began to gather up the papers with her. ‘It won’t go any further. No one need know.’
She nodded. ‘I shan’t say anything to anyone.’
‘Good. It would put us both in a difficult position, wouldn’t it?’ Sam threw her a jagged glance. ‘What about this man that you’re seeing? Tom, isn’t it? Does he work at the hospital?’
Megan looked up, startled by his question. ‘Tom? No, he works for a software company. He doesn’t really have anything to do with the hospital.’
Sam was still for a moment. Then he put the papers back onto the table and said cautiously, ‘Have you known him for very long?’
Megan thought for a while before she answered. She could tell him that Tom was her brother-in-law, but perhaps it would be better for both of them if she let him go on thinking that Tom was a boyfriend. Sam was dismayed about what had just happened, and she guessed he was worried about getting involved. If he believed there was another man in her life, he might feel more secure about having her stay here, and he wouldn’t have any reason to feel that his image at work would be compromised.
It would give her a breathing space, too, so that she could sort out her feelings. She was thoroughly confused about what it was that she wanted. Sam certainly wouldn’t want to be involved with someone who was a member of his team. This way, with Tom in the background, the question wouldn’t arise.
‘I’ve known him for quite a while,’ she said finally. ‘Several years, in fact. We both have roots in the same part of Wales, and since I’ve been back here we’ve been in touch.’ She bundled the rest of the papers together and handed them to him. ‘I hope they’re not in too much of a mess.’
‘It’s all right. You can leave them to me. I’ll sort them out.’ All at once he seemed keen to get her out of the way. ‘You must be tired by now,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘I’ll… I’ll go, then,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Megan. I’ll see you in the morning.’
She left him, and went up to bed. This time, with so much on her mind, it was hours before she managed to get to sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
OVER the next few days, Megan and Sam were ultra-cautious around each other. Megan tried to keep her mind on her work and avoid situations where she was alone with him, but she was finding it especially hard to be living in the same house with him. It could have been that he felt the same way. He kept himself busy in the evenings, doing paperwork of some kind, and she tried to keep out of his way.
At the weekend, she took Jenny over to their mother’s house but, much as she loved being there, she found that she missed Sam. Just having him close by was more precious to her than she had realised.
On Tuesday at lunchtime she met Tom for lunch. ‘How is work going?’ she asked him, and he grimaced.
‘We’re still struggling to meet our deadlines. When this is all over, I’m going to see if I can organise a new system, a new way of working. I feel as though I don’t have time to breathe sometimes.’
‘You look exhausted,’ she agreed. ‘No one can keep up a constant pace without something giving way eventually. You and Jenny both look as though you’re heading for breakdowns.’
‘Is it that bad? With Jenny, I mean?’
Megan nodded. ‘I’ve arranged for her to have a community nurse come in and talk to her about her problems. She needs support just now. Things are too much for her to handle on her own.’
Back at work that afternoon, she tried to break the barriers that had grown up between herself and Sam.
‘I need to go and see Jenny this evening,’ she told him. ‘I want to see how she and Ben got on with the therapist. She was supposed to be visiting the house today and I want to know what happened. Do you want to come along with me?’
He shook his head and she felt a twinge of disappointment. It wasn’t easy, being this close to him and yet so far apart, and she didn’t know how to bridge the gap.
‘I can’t,’ he said flatly. ‘I have to stay home and prepare some notes for a meeting tomorrow. I’m making a presentation to the management at the hospital about treatment outcomes among young patients with obsessive-compulsive disorder, and it’s important that I get it right. Otherwise I would have liked to come with you. You’ll be able to let me know how she got on, though, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
* * *
Jenny was excited about the visit. ‘Her name’s Chloe Montgomery, and she seemed really nice. I got on well with her. She was here for a couple of hours, and she sat making notes while she watched Ben in whatever he was doing. She said that he would need several therapists to work with him over the next couple of years so that he would get used to being with different people, but she would oversee the treatment.’
‘What kind of treatment? Did she say?’
‘I can’t say that I really understood it. She said that they use a form of behavioural analysis to devise programmes of work for children with Ben’s kind of disorder, and the therapists will need to work with him at home and later on at school. There are no guarantees, she said, but she sounded positive about what she planned to do.’
* * *
Megan reported back to Sam briefly next morning at breakfast. He was preoccupied, getting together everything he needed for his presentation, but he said, ‘I’m glad it went well. I’ll give Chloe a ring and work out with her what’s to happen next. I know she has a clinic a couple of miles away and she sometimes likes to see children there, away from their home environment, but that probably won’t happen until Ben’s ready to start school.
I’ll see you at lunchtime and let you know what she wants to do.’
Megan frowned. ‘Actually, I thought I would go and see Jack in the burns unit at lunchtime, but you and I are supposed to be working together this afternoon, aren’t we? Perhaps you could tell me then?’
‘We could grab a quick lunch if you like and then go and see him together.’
‘All right. That sounds fine to me.’
* * *
Lunch was a hurried affair. The presentation had gone on longer than Sam had expected.
‘How did it go?’ Megan asked as she bit into her pizza.
‘I think it went well. I’m trying to get management to agree to setting up a special unit where we can look after young people with obsessive-compulsive disorder on an inpatient basis. Mostly we try to treat these patients at home, but sometimes that doesn’t work out very well. If we want to admit them to the hospital there often isn’t satisfactory provision for them at the moment. On the whole, what’s provided is care for adults, and youngsters can feel isolated. I’m hoping that management will allow me to go ahead with my plans.’
‘When will you know if you’ve succeeded?’
He shrugged lightly. ‘I don’t know how long they will take to consider it. I’ve spoken to the executives who have the clout to do something, and they’ve promised to be as quick as they can in making a decision. The main point in favour of my plan is that I have sponsors who will help to fund it.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’re running late. If you’ve finished eating, perhaps we should be on our way.’
Jack looked pale and listless when they saw him in the burns unit a short time later. A nurse had brought him his lunch, and he was picking at it desultorily. Megan saw that there was a drip attached to his arm, providing him with the extra fluids that he needed, and she guessed that the team providing his care would also be giving him painkillers intravenously.
‘How are you?’ she asked him, pulling up a chair at the side of his bed.
He screwed up his nose. ‘It hurts,’ he said flatly. ‘Not now so much, but they keep coming to change my dressings every few hours and I don’t like that. They make me soak my leg in a kind of bath.’ He sighed. ‘Mum says it’s my own fault for being silly.’
