by Mark Bailey
GIRL CHANGED
Book 2 of THE GIRL TRILOGY
A Gripping Thriller
By Mark Bailey
First Published in 2018
Copyright © by Noddy Publishing Pty Ltd 2018
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Email: [email protected]
About the Author
I was born on October 11, 1961. I grew up and went to school in Hobart, Tasmania which is a small island to the south of the Australian mainland. When I left school, I studied Agricultural Science for three years at Dookie College (the Ag Science campus of Melbourne University) and then started and ran a mining underground vehicle and labor-hire business for twenty-eight years, until 2016. I’ve been happily married to Rosie for thirty-two years, and we have three grown children.
We currently live in Sisters Creek in Tasmania and I work around Tassie as a shearer and sometimes wool classer. Together with our two German Shepherds, Bindi and Max, we plan on a life change soon, leaving Tasmania and traveling around the Australian mainland in a caravan with our two dogs — shearing, wool classing and of course, writing.
Please use the e-mail address: [email protected] if you wish to talk or discuss anything with me. I will personally answer all your emails.
Happy reading
Mark Bailey
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 1.
Dr. Milly McTaggart never knew her identical twin sister, Siobhan Russell. Both, however, belonged to an exclusive club. They shared a genetic trait that manifested itself in just four extended families worldwide: a condition called adermatoglyphia, characterized in part by no fingerprints. Apart from their identical genetic makeup, they had nothing in common, their destinies determined in a decision made by their mother, Mia McTaggart, before they were born.
Siobhan was adopted out at birth from a Scottish hospital in Aberdeen. Mia fretted on finding she was pregnant and was inconsolable when an ultrasound revealed she was carrying twins. The girls’ father was a philanderer and an alcoholic, destined in Mia’s mind to an early grave. Doctors John and Ella Russell adopted Siobhan, or Sibby as she was affectionately known and raised her in Dundee, Scotland. There, Sibby lived an idyllic childhood, privileged by her parents’ medical standing in the community and their money, eventually entering the Dundee University where she, too, studied medicine.
Milly and her mother emigrated from Aberdeen in Scotland to Perth in Western Australia when Milly was five. Helped by Mia’s wealthy sister, Christy Anderson, and her husband James, they settled in Perth where Milly was raised, eventually attending Murdoch University and gaining a Psy.D. in Psychology. Milly, though, was never safe — not in her own company anyway. She was sexually promiscuous from an early age and nourished her sexuality and hedonistic behavior with illegal drugs and a perilous bravado that could only lead to her annihilation.
In December 2015, she traveled from Perth to the U.K. to work, despite having a charge of possession of just under two grams of cocaine hanging over her in Australia. She dismissed the charge as a misdemeanor, as irrelevant. It wasn’t the charge itself, but the potential for it to be upgraded — back to the more serious charge of possession of four grams of cocaine — a traffickable offense under Western Australian law. The more serious offense carried with it the chance of a five-year jail sentence, something that would finish her career literally as it was beginning. Her Australian lawyer had negotiated a deal with the Western Australian Director of Public Prosecutions to drop the more serious charge to the lesser charge of possessing just under two grams of cocaine. The deal was contingent upon her appearing as a prosecution witness in a criminal court trial against Matthew Boyd, Sr. — a court case she would need to return to Australia for.
Milly was employed in the U.K. as Managing Counseling Psychologist at Watford Therapy where she quickly becomes friends with Rosie Grainer, Watford Therapy’s human resources and business manager. Rosie noticed her dance to an early grave and, with tolerance and patience, drew her back from what Milly once described to Rosie in her office in Watford as her apparent destiny — to be dead by thirty.
Her job description ratified a position of seventy-five percent work time spent in counseling clients, and the remaining twenty-five percent spent managing other counselors. That wasn’t her reality now, but she was determined to bide her time, to take stock and wait until she returned home to fulfill her legal obligation. She hoped her possession charge would be dismissed but thought it unlikely; the best outcome would be a small fine, with no conviction recorded.
There was no intensity in her job now, no excitement, but it offered her security if she could just keep her mouth shut and not quarrel with Dr. Theo Maddix, the principal of Watford Therapy. In a sense, her career was pupating. Milly, too, was pupating. She was transforming inside her protective cocoon — her job at Watford Therapy. Soon, she would metamorphose into a beautiful butterfly and fly away to another job, or whatever else took her fancy; she had pushed the pause button.
Theo knew he had a hold over Milly. The murder of her twin sister, the trial and conviction of Sibby’s former boyfriend, Cailin Stewart, and Milly’s pending call back as a prosecution witness in a criminal trial in Australia all meant that she needed him as much as he needed her, or so he thought. In a way, he was right. In moving to other employment now, she would need to start from scratch — her pupation would finish — beginning her adult life cycle again. There would be a new job with new explanations and more half-truths and lies around her pending trial and past life. Everyone working and associated with Watford Therapy, her friends in the U.K., even casual acquaintances all knew of her recent distress and her past. They accepted her and, indeed, some loved her for it. Then there was the small matter of time off for the trial and the fact that she had little money saved. No, she would do better to hold on and hide in her safe cocoon at Watford Therapy.
Theo had been openly disparaging of Milly ever since the trial of Sibby’s killer. He had returned to work when Milly asked for time off to travel to Scotland for Sibby’s funeral. Milly had berated him in an outburst in his car the day before Christmas Eve 2015, informing him that she might be a lot of things but dumb wasn’t one of them. Theo had seen the rebuke as abuse, although it was delivered, in Milly’s words, respectfully. Rosie had also threatened to leave over the incident. Milly had knocked Theo down a few rungs on the lofty ladder to legend status, and he didn’t like it. How dare she speak to me like that, he fumed privately; but he had acquiesced — he needed Mill
y, and he needed Rosie too.
So Theo took on the role as martyr to Milly’s cause when she wanted time off, and knew she would want more time off soon to head back to Australia. This would give him leverage. Slowly Milly’s position as a counselor gave way to managing other counselors and helping Rosie in her business management role. Theo’s notion that Milly’s position as managing counselor took precedence over her job description as a counselor in a counseling role was now back in play. That, apart from his ill-mannered treatment of her the week before Christmas 2015, had been the catalyst for their initial spat. He was taking liberties, and they both knew it. She noted the change and guessed at his motive — his martyrdom, the chance to turn events in his favor — and so a grudge began and festered. Theo was breaking the agreement ratified in Milly’s work contract with Watford Therapy at his peril.
There was no energy in her life force now, no impetus, just stagnation. The air was thick with expectation, the calm before the storm. This calm was when Milly was at her most dangerous. She needed momentum; otherwise, as night followed day, trouble would follow Milly. Her sexuality gnawed at her. It caused an itch, but she couldn’t scratch it because she knew where it would lead — a precursor to more drug use. Milly resolved to rid herself of the itch, so she made an appointment with her GP and friend, Dr. Tess Miller.
‘How are you getting along now, Milly?’ asked Tess as Milly sat opposite her in her consulting room at Handbury Medical Centre in Watford.
‘Okay for the moment, Tess, but I have a bit of a problem … you know, the old problem that comes back and plays havoc with my life. I hate discussing it because it’s embarrassing, but I need to get it sorted.’
‘What’s to be embarrassed about, Milly?’ asked Tess.
‘Well, it is embarrassing. How would you like to sit in front of your friend and tell her about your sexual yearnings, your sexual problems?’
‘Let’s get one thing straight, Milly; it’s not embarrassing for me. Let’s not talk about this thing in our discussion as sexual yearning or a sexual problem either. We’ll address it as your libido. We’ll take the words sex and problem out of it. So, you have a high libido … that is not unhealthy … the problem with you Milly is that your libido leads to risky behavior.’
‘I’ve tried to change my behavior, Tess, but it doesn’t work. The problem doesn’t go away, it just sizzles away, knocking at the door, poking and prodding me, until I bow to it again, until I let it have its way.’
‘Alright, Milly it’s obvious that left to your own devices you will have difficulty making behavioral changes; that’s why we are having this discussion. As you know, sex addiction isn’t a diagnosable condition … not yet anyway. It’s not like schizophrenia or attention deficit disorder. But research is telling us that some adverse sexual behavior is similar in its manifestation to a chemical addiction. Now, leaving the debate on high levels of sex hormones aside … which we will test for … there are different therapies available including group therapy and cognitive behavioral therapy.’
‘Forget it. I’m not interested in any group therapy. There’s no way I’ll be sitting in front of a group of people telling them what pushes my buttons.’
‘I anticipated your answer, Milly. So, what I’d like to do is treat you with antidepressants, specifically a group of antidepressants called SSRIs or Selective Serotonin Re-Uptake Inhibitors …’
‘I know about SSRIs,’ interrupted Milly.
‘Back to the debate on hormone levels then. I can prescribe an anti-androgenic medication, which could be prescribed if your sex hormone levels are very high. Then there is the option of trying Naltrexone, which can treat chemical addiction and has been shown to decrease sexually compulsive behavior. Naltrexone, though, is prescribed more for drug and alcohol addiction, so I would discount its use in your case at this stage. Now, the other drugs that specifically target hormone levels can have some serious side effects, so I think SSRIs are more appropriate, at least for the time being. I don’t believe you have a drug and sex addiction; I think I can put a lot of your behavior down to depression. The SSRIs may be all that is needed because they mitigate the brain’s response to rewarding behaviors. It will help with your depression, Milly, but it will require a big effort from you.’
‘I do understand the pathways in the brain and how they work, Tess, but I was probably thinking more along the lines of an antiandrogenic medication. Anyway, where did this diagnosis of depression come from suddenly?’
‘First, we can’t just prescribe an anti-androgenic medication; we don’t even know what your sex hormone levels are. As for the depression, Milly, I know you well enough now, and I see it in your mood swings. You are either on top of the world or totally down in the dumps. Rosie picked it too, in a discussion we had. I didn’t discuss my clinical opinion with her, but I took on board what she had to say. She is very perceptive, our Rosie.’
‘I suppose so,’ answered Milly rather despondently, thinking that it was all getting rather complicated.
‘Currently, I am more comfortable with the SSRIs, especially for the treatment of depression. It depends on how they affect you; but, hopefully, you will still have a reasonable libido, which is important at your age in forming relationships with other people. The other medications can be more severe in their side-effects, and without a blood test, we don’t even know if their use will apply in your case; we are making some assumptions here, Milly. Anyway, if it comes down to it, and we can’t really decide the best course of treatment, I will refer you to a psychiatrist … a specialist in the field.’
‘No, no,’ replied Milly, irritably. ‘I’m happy to go with the antidepressants for the moment.’
‘Okay then, the SSRIs it is. I still want to do a blood test before prescribing the medication.’
Milly left the surgery with mixed feelings. It was in her nature to take the direct approach to a problem rather than chip away at it by trying different things one at a time. Take the sex hormones out of my system and fix the problem once and for all, she thought. She knew that a referral to a psychiatrist could take weeks and she might be no better off, so she resolved to go with Tess and the antidepressants, at least for the moment. She would wait and see the results of the blood tests when they came back.
Milly followed up with another appointment at the end of the week, and the blood tests confirmed a higher than average level of sex hormones for her sex and age, but nothing needing treatment with anti-androgenic medication. Tess wondered then about Milly’s illicit drug use and if she had more of an addiction problem. She had tested for drugs in this recent blood sample, and the sample was clear. I’ll stick with the SSRIs, thought Tess, for the time being, and keep an eye on her.
The following Monday at work, Milly received an email to both her work and private addresses from the Western Australian Director of Public Prosecutions. The email from Paul Long’s office summoned Dr. Milly Cavendish McTaggart as a witness in the criminal case against Matthew Jordan Boyd, a trial beginning on Monday, May 1, in approximately six weeks’ time. She was also served with a summons at work delivered by two members of the local Hertfordshire Constabulary. That was followed up by a phone call from Detective Inspector Sean Poke confirming the date. He also confirmed the booking of her flight from London on Wednesday, April 26.
Good. Some resolution at last, thought Milly.
Chapter 2.
Milly began taking the medication prescribed to her by Tess Miller. From what she knew, and with some research, it was apparent the anti-depressant effect of the medication probably wouldn’t kick in for six to eight weeks; it could take up to six months. She didn’t feel it; she wasn’t depressed. She was bored. Tess and Rosie claimed to recognize depression-like symptoms manifesting themselves in her personality, in her mood swings — from high to low, but low, now — mostly.
She needed something, anything, to excite her, to occupy the blank space in her head, a space usually occupied by some other — a drug — followed b
y the prospect of some deviant sexual behavior and more drugs.
The weeks passed slowly, and the boredom grew. She found herself thinking more and more about Theo’s treatment of her. It was filling her mind. It wasn’t overt, but it was insidious, as it established itself in that blank space, filling and occupying it. She had problems in her past relationships, sometimes in her interpretation of them, in her perceptions. Often, she reacted not from what was said but from what she thought was inferred. Now she believed there were problems in Theo’s attitude to her — in his silence.
To Theo’s ‘credit’, he was true to himself, to his personality. He was a pig of a man. Not everyone interpreted his silences as rudeness; they considered him shy. But others saw him for what he was — sneaky, stubborn and a know-it-all. He looked for weaknesses in other people. He homed in on them and pointed them out, if only to himself. This helped reinforce his dour opinion of people, his sour treatment of them. He didn’t laugh much and when he did it was usually at someone else’s expense. He saw their good points too, but they were irrelevant except when they made him money. Theo knew Milly brought business to Watford Therapy. Clients openly discussed that tall, beautiful redhead with the Aussie accent. She was good at her job — good at counseling — but he needed her to help in a management role, to take the pressure off him. Milly had many foibles, some out in the public arena. This helped reinforce Theo’s mindset — his opinion and his treatment of Milly. In any work situation, they could never be a good mix.
She considered having it out with him and knew she would soon — I’ll do it before I leave for Australia, she thought. She had started to share that blank space in her head, though, with other thoughts, taking some pressure from contemplating Theo’s treatment of her. Milly still had contact with Detective Sergeant Greg Stopford and Detective Chief Inspector Rob Windsor, the two officers from the Metropolitan Police Murder Investigation Team 26 or MIT. 26. They had headed up the investigation into Sibby’s murder. Whilst considering her position at Watford Therapy, she had considered a career change from child adolescent and family psychology to criminal psychology. She understood aspects of human behavior; she had a doctorate in it. She was a specialist in her field of psychology, but she didn’t want to complete more years of formal study, just to work in another.