by David James
Despite herself Sarah couldn't help smiling at the recollection of playing chess with her father. ‘He assures me he didn’t let me win,’ she said.
‘Oh I can tell you categorically that he wouldn’t let anyone win deliberately,’ said the director.
The memories had lifted the atmosphere in the room considerably and the director smiled as he said ‘I’ll get the journals back to you soon Sarah. We do appreciate your efforts.’
His tone might have been pleasant, but to Sarah it sounded as if her time with the children was drawing to a close. She stood up, holding the book, and thanked the director, though for what she didn’t know, and left his office.
As she closed the door behind her, still clasping the chess book and prescription to her chest, she felt initially as if a weight had been lifted from her, but her next feeling was one of regret that she had betrayed the children somehow. And then she made a decision that surprised her, but it seemed the only correct thing to do.
The director watched as Sarah shut the door behind her. He was uneasy about how Sarah had appeared; it was clear that the strain was getting to her. But he had his duty to do and he took out the mobile phone and pressed the number.
‘Hello, yes I’m fine. I just thought I would let you know that we have the journals now.’
‘Yes, I will be looking at them today.’
‘Sarah? Yes I just met with her.’
‘She seems to be feeling the strain now. Well, we tend to talk about the children of course, and her father as well, and we talked about chess a little this time.’
‘Yes, chess, I play a little and she used to play with her father.’
‘And she mentioned that she wasn’t sleeping well, so I gave her a prescription to help her. As I say, I’ll look through the journals and let you know. Yes, speak to you soon.’
Sarah didn’t go straight back to the office. Instead she headed towards the block that the children were located in. She was a regular visitor to the small office that Gary worked from and she knocked lightly on the door.
‘Come in if you have biscuits,’ said the voice from inside.
Sarah walked in and said ‘Sorry, no biscuits.’
Gary sat up a little straighter. He got on well with Sarah and they could chat quite happily, but he still remembered that she was part of the senior staff here and he afforded her the respect he felt she was due.
‘Sarah, don’t normally see you here this early. No journals to bring back?’
Sarah tried to keep the discomfort out of her expression as she replied ‘No, maybe later.’
‘Everything alright Sarah?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Sarah hurriedly. ‘It’s just that I would like to go in and see the children.’
This was not a normal request, even if Sarah tried to make it sound as if it was routine. Early on it had been decided, by the director as Sarah recalled, that the only contact with the children would occur in the office and laboratory spaces in the institute. Where they could be carefully monitored. The director had said that it was so they didn’t miss something that the children might say, or more likely as it turned out, do. Sarah had agreed with the reasoning at the time. It had seemed logical, but now she wasn’t so sure.
‘That’s not normal,’ said Gary.
‘I know, but I won’t be long, if you could just open the doors for me.’
Gary stood up. He didn’t like the expression on Sarah’s face, she looked more troubled than he had seen her before. But he still had enough respect for her to comply.
He led her down the corridor and stood outside the children’s door.
He hesitated for a second and turned to Sarah and said in a low voice ‘If you are just a short time, no need to record it I guess?’
Every contact was recorded here and Gary was breaking protocol by even making the offer. Sarah hesitated and thought of the director. Maybe it would be better for her if this was off the record.
Sarah said quietly ‘No need to bother recording it I think, I’ll only be a few moments.’
Gary smiled and with that Sarah felt some slight conspiratorial bond begin to form between them.
Gary unlocked the door, opened it and allowed Sarah to go in.
The door slammed behind her and the children slowly looked up at her in unison, their faces expressionless.
Chapter Fifteen
Sort of like a family aren't we.
What did that mean?
The director was both pleased and slightly alarmed as he read this phrase. He was aware that Sarah had been trying to get closer to the children, to get them to feel comfortable with her. But a part of him worried that maybe she was getting too close. The use of the word ‘family’ particularly worried him. Was Sarah looking to fill some sort of a void in her own life after her father’s death with the children? Swap one family for another? If so, then she was losing her detachment; which could be harmful to both her and the children. He would need to keep an eye on this.
As he read he couldn't help imagining Sir Terrence reading over his shoulder; it didn’t make him feel very comfortable. But he could see nothing in them that gave any hint as to what might have happened to the children.
As far as he could tell “Nathan” seemed to be quite unpleasant. He knew you were not supposed to make such value judgements about patients, but it was how he appeared.
“Emily” seemed the complete opposite, being here in the institute didn’t seem to have quelled her obvious enthusiasm at all.
He knew he had to make allowances for how people would react when they were in such an artificial environment. They tried to make their accommodation at least a little homely, but it was what it was; an institution.
He put the last journal down, stood up, left the office and headed towards the nearest photo copier. He couldn’t make much sense of them, but maybe others could.
Sarah shuffled uncomfortably, her feeling of discomfort wasn’t helped by the fact that since she had sat down the children’s gaze hadn’t left her, they almost seemed to be trying to penetrate her mind. Nathan’s stare was particularly unsettling and for a fleeting moment she felt as if she could feel him inside her mind.
She pulled herself together and started speaking to them in as relaxed a voice as she could manage.
‘I’ve come here to see you today, because I have something to tell you,’ Nathan continued to hold her in his stare, it took all her concentration to continue. ‘I want you to know that I have been very pleased with you filling out the journals for me,’ she hesitated, should she have used the word ‘me’?
‘And I hope it hasn’t been too stressful for you doing them.’ She looked at the children for some sort of confirmation. Their faces remained impassive.
‘But the time has come, I think, for us to share the journals with other people. So they can help you as well.’
She could feel her heart rate rising and as she stopped speaking she felt a sense of relief that she had managed to say it. She kept her eyes fixed on the children. She thought that she had seen a flicker in Emily's face as she had mentioned other people reading them. Or had she imagined it?
There was silence in the room and Sarah knew that she was the only one that was going to break it.
‘I hope you don’t mind and will continue to fill them in?’
She waited for a response. Emily was the only one that seemed to have acknowledged what she had said, and as Emily fixed Sarah with her eyes she seemed to be trying to communicate with Sarah through her eyes alone.
And then the spell was broken. One of the twins knocked something over and all eyes turned towards them.
Sarah sat back, she knew any possible moment had now passed. She stood up and knocked on the door to let Gary know she had finished.
As Sarah returned to her desk, the images of the children’s expressions still imprinted in her mind, she had only sat down for a minute when the director’s assistant appeared and placed a sealed package in front of her.
>
‘The director thought you might like these returned,’ she said quietly and promptly turned and left before Sarah could reply.
Had the director read them already? And more to the point had he understood them?
Sarah began to wonder if there had been something in the journals that she hadn’t picked up on and the director had spotted it immediately. She felt as if she was in a competition with the director and the institute to solve the problem first. She realised this was not very professional after all they were all on the same side weren’t they?
She opened the package and a note dropped out.
Thanks for letting me see the journals. Just had time for a brief look and they all seem very cryptic to me. Please let me have them again as soon as they enter anything new in.
Robert.
The note seemed friendly enough and Sarah immediately felt a little guilty how she had reacted. She picked the journals up and headed back to the children’s accommodation to return the journals, hoping that the children would enter in something for her to read later on at home.
Chapter Sixteen
Hi Sarah,
Emily here.
How are you feeling? You didn't look very good, I guess you aren’t sleeping well.
Bit funny now that we know that we aren’t just talking to you. I mean, anyone could be reading this couldn’t they? Maybe what I say will appear in the newspapers, that might be cool! But not sure if it would. Best be careful what I say now I suppose. You never know who you can trust. But we can trust each other can’t we Sarah?
Anyway, I’ve written you a story, haven’t finished it yet, hope you like it. It’s just for you to read. Here goes…
There once was a fair maiden who lived in a land where she stayed with her wicked mother, who was a witch.
No one let her do what she wanted and her days were really boring. When she tried to do what she wanted she just got told off all the time and she was naughty, and it wasn't fair as she was really unhappy. Everything always seemed dark all the time and she tried to run away but they always caught her.
Then a brave knight came to her rescue one day and he promised he would take her away to a magical land where everything was bright and fun and it wasn't dark anymore. He was tall and handsome and had a kind face and she trusted him.
She followed the brave knight through the forest. It was dark and she felt lost and saw things in the forest that she didn't like, but he said it would be okay. The forest looked too dark and she was sure they had lost their way and she got frightened and then all of a sudden they saw a tall old man. His face was all wrinkly and he was bent over. He looked as if he was going to fall over and one of his arms was pointing weirdly. And she realised he was he was pointing the way and they followed the way he said to go.
They left the forest and they arrived and it was all light just like he had promised and she wasn't alone anymore.
There were houses there and she tried them all until she found one she liked and she felt safe there.
At first everything was nice and the days weren't boring anymore. And the brave knight looked after them.
Hope you like it, will let you know how it ends next time.
Bye for now.
Emily
xxx
Sarah put the journal down.
She had been initially disappointed that Nathan hadn't chosen to enter anything in his journal, but her disappointment hadn’t lasted long.
She picked the journal up again and re-read it. There was no doubt it was Emily’s attempt at a fairy tale. Sarah felt that the words might offer an insight into Emily's mind. The language was childish and fanciful, yes, but Sarah chose to believe that there was more to it than that. She began to wonder why Emily had chosen now to start writing in this style? The fact that it was after Sarah had met them and told them that someone else would be reading the journals could have just been a coincidence.
She re-read Emily’s little story again; she felt that Emily was trying to tell her something in her own way, but try as she might she couldn’t grasp it.
She wondered if she was reading too much into it, after all she shouldn’t forget that she was a fifteen year old girl. She put the journal down, closed it and made her way up to her bedroom.
Sarah slept fitfully again, she vaguely remembered getting up in the night and getting a drink; but she couldn’t be sure. She was still in a partial daze as she woke. Dreams usually disappeared by the first breaking of the light; or the first shower, or at least by the first cup of coffee. But not this one. This one stayed with her as she climbed into her car and drove to work. She looked across at the journal that sat on the car seat next to her. It looked so ordinary, but its contents had unsettled her.
She drove through the assembled journalists, hardly noticing them and drew her car up.
Her usual routine had involved returning the journals to the children, via a quick chat and maybe a cup of tea with Gary. She already missed those gentle introductions to the morning as she turned away from the route towards Gary’s office and turned towards the director's office.
The director sat at his computer. His email was as ever, full.
He seemed to get invited to every meeting that was going on in the institute. Some of them seemed to be meetings about meetings. Their only outcome being the arranging of another meeting.
His time seemed to be spent divided between finance, strategic planning and latterly media commitments. No mention of anything to do with actual clinical work. That had been the first casualty of reaching a senior position – doing something that he felt actually qualified for and interested in. He looked back fondly on the days when he used to concentrate on patients or new treatments.
The children's arrival had been an opportunity that had turned rapidly into a problem. There was only so long he could placate the assembled media outside. And now the children’s arrival seemed to have created divisions and problems for the institute staff. He had seen the effect on Sarah already, but he was also aware of problems with Sarah’s own staff. And then there was the attitude of Sir Terrence, each time they met his tone seemed to get more tense.
It was the conversation with Sir Terrence that was uppermost in his mind, and he knew he had been told that it may be time to take more drastic action to speed up the children's treatment.
Sarah knocked gently, partly hoping that he wouldn’t hear her knock if she did it quietly enough.
She heard him call her in.
‘Sarah, thanks for coming in.’
Sarah walked up to his desk and placed the journal down on it. She really didn’t have the energy for a complex conversation.
‘Great, I’ll return it to you within the hour if that is okay?’ said the director.
She stood there with what must have been a troubled expression.
‘Everything okay Sarah?’ said the director.
Sarah mustered up enough energy to re-arrange her face enough to say ‘Fine, yes, didn’t sleep well again that’s all.’
‘Did you get the prescription I gave you filled?’
‘I did, yes but I didn’t take them last night, maybe tonight,’ said Sarah wearily.
He lowered his voice and said ‘Are you still taking the usual medication?’
Sarah said defensively ‘Of course, why wouldn’t I?’
‘No reason. I was just checking.’
He looked directly at her and said 'We do appreciate your efforts so far.'
Sarah knew exactly what the next word would be.
'But, as I'm sure you appreciate, time is of the essence. In other circumstances, then I think I agree with your gentle approach. Slowly gaining the children's confidence and then they will naturally start to confide in you and eventually talk to you.'
Sarah shuffled uncomfortably. She wasn't entirely sure where this was going. But she knew that it wouldn't be what she wanted.
'We want you to continue with your treatment regime,' he said, before after a brief pause cont
inuing 'but we feel that another approach, complimentary to yours would be helpful.'
Sarah was initially relieved that she wasn't being taken away from the children's treatment. But she had no idea how to react to what he had said afterwards. Was he waiting for her to say something?
Mercifully, he started to talk again.
'It has been decided that the treatment should take a different direction. If the children have suffered some kind of trauma, and I'm sure you would concede that their inability to talk could suggest this, then a drug based treatment regime might be more appropriate.'
She shouldn't have been surprised to hear this, but the thought of filling the children with drugs was still abhorrent to her.
'To force them to talk you mean?' she said.
The director seemed to recoil at this suggestion.
‘I really wouldn’t put it like that Sarah. Not at all. Simply to assist the treatment.'
'But that is the end result that you desire?' said Sarah, almost shouting at the director.
'I think we are all working towards the same desired result,' he replied.
Sarah wasn't so sure anymore. But she tried to calm herself down. It would do no good just ranting at him.
She took a deep breath and said 'Could you at least give me some more time to treat them. Before you administer the drugs?'
The director looked closely at Sarah. He could see that she was upset at his suggestion. If he was impartial, then he would probably agree with her. He was not a strong advocate of drug based treatments himself, especially for children. He had seen the unfortunate side effects at first hand. And you couldn't always trust the results that they gave you. But the pressure to get results was now too much for him to refuse. But as he looked at Sarah's crestfallen face, he was reminded of her father, his friend, and what his reaction would have been.
'I may be able to give you four days, before we have to change the treatment. But then I really won’t have any option after that. Unless of course you manage to get the desired results.'