by David James
‘Could I come in for a moment?’ he said.
Sarah was reluctant to let anyone in to her sanctuary. It almost felt like an invasion of her own private territory. But she knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer and besides, if she could show him that she really was fine and everything was normal, then he would leave her alone again.
‘Of course,‘ she said and opened the door fully.
As he entered the hallway, she quickly peered around the front door to check that nothing suspicious was outside, satisfied, she proceeded to lock the door firmly again, replacing all the bolts.
She ushered him towards the front room, mentally scanning around it to see if it looked okay. As they walked past her father's study, she noticed that he gave it a glance.
Why did he do that?
She felt protective of her sanctuary and she hurried him into the front room. In her mind it had looked fine, but now she had to admit that it looked a disorganised mess; she had to move papers and empty plates from a chair to enable him to sit down. If he noticed he didn’t display it on his face as he sat down.
She sat opposite him, she could feel the remnants of something underneath her, but she didn’t flinch.
‘How have you been Sarah? We haven’t heard from you for a while,’ he said in a concerned manner.
‘Oh, I’ve been busy, you know,’ she replied.
‘Glad to hear it, though you should be resting as well. What have you been busy with?’
She wished she hadn’t used the word ‘busy’. How could she possibly reply. ‘Looking through my father’s old research papers, which by the way contain some really interesting stuff that I would love to ask you about.’ Or ‘Playing chess with my father.’ What could she say?
The silence needed filling, before she could stop herself she said ‘I’ve been looking at my father’s old research papers.’
She detected a change in the director’s expression, he looked surprised and slightly shocked. But his expression changed back as he said ‘I didn’t know there were still any lying around. Find anything interesting?’
Now was her chance. There were so many questions she wanted to ask and she was sure he could answer them. But did she trust the director anymore? Did she trust anyone anymore?
She restrained herself, ‘Just some old files and a few notes,’ she said truthfully.
He looked long and hard at her and she began to feel uncomfortable.
She decided to break the spell he had over her and said ‘How are the children doing?’
The director sat back and half sighed as he said ‘They have stopped communicating altogether now. After you left the journals remained blank for a couple of days and then Susan dispensed with them altogether.’
As Sarah listened she realised that the note that Emily had given her now felt like a final farewell.
‘Susan has taken a different approach,’ he began to hesitate, not sure how much he should say. The face of Sir Terrence loomed large in his mind.
‘Drugs based?’ said Sarah, though she knew the answer.
He nodded. ‘A different approach as I said.’
Sarah felt both sad and angry. She had felt she was making real progress, the children were about to speak about what had happened to them, and now it had been taken away and there was just silence from them.
‘I’ve been authorised to tell you that you can have more time off. In fact a month was mentioned. It would give you time to recover and regroup. There really is no need for you to return to treat the children. That is all taken care of now.’
So that was that, she was now officially sidelined. Her enforced rest had turned into an enforced absence. And before she could protest he said ‘We wondered, when you are rested enough, that you may be able to undertake some research for us. You needn’t come into the institute, you could do it from here.’
This was beyond sidelining, this was as close as they could get to excluding her from the institute.
‘I’d forgotten how nice the house is,’ said the director looking around the room and studiously avoiding looking at the mess. ‘You could turn this into a nice office area. It has been suggested that maybe we get you some help to come in occasionally, you know so you don’t need to be bothered with going out and getting anything. We could take care of all your needs here, in the house.’
He was smiling as he said this and at first Sarah thought how nice it would be to not have to leave the house, especially after her experience in the woods. But her second thought was that it almost sounded like a form of house arrest. No, she thought, the institute wouldn’t be doing that to her, and certainly not the director.
‘Have you been continuing your medicine? Has it helped?’
‘I suppose so,’ she said. She wasn’t sure anymore, she had no idea what it would be like without the pills.
‘Good, good. We’ll make sure you have a plentiful supply. We can take care of that for you.’
The director seemed to be contemplating saying something to Sarah, she watched as he finally decided to speak.
‘I wondered if you used your father’s old study at all?’
She remembered him noticing it as they had walked in. Should she admit that she spent most of her time in there now? There were things that she certainly wasn’t going to admit to him, but she decided to at least be partly honest.
‘I look at his papers in there, occasionally. Why do you ask?’
‘Oh, no reason.’
He seemed to have replied too quickly to Sarah.
‘I just wondered if it still looked the same as before,’ he said.
Sarah remembered her father and the director spending many hours ensconced in the study. It was only natural that he should ask, she supposed. She pictured the study now, after she had spent so much time in there, would there be any harm in him seeing it again?
But it was her sanctuary now and she was reluctant to let anyone else see it.
‘I would like to have just a quick look, just for old times' sake, if you don’t mind?’ he said.
If she refused point blank now it would look odd and she knew she wasn't in a strong position anyway. She didn’t want to arouse any suspicion.
Reluctantly she said ‘It’s not very tidy.’
‘It never was,’ he replied light heartedly.
She smiled slightly and said ‘Okay then,’ and stood up.
She turned the key and walked into the study followed by the director.
She half expected the study to react in some way to the director being there. But nothing happened.
‘I see you have some of his research papers out,’ said the director, and he walked up to them and started to skim through them.
‘Any that particularly interest you Sarah?’
There certainly were and she was sure he could help clarify some things about them for her. But for some reason she was reluctant to admit too much to him.
‘Nothing in particular. It was just that I felt closer to his memory as I read them.’
The director nodded. ‘We do all miss him as well. He could be a difficult man, but we all respected him, even when...’
He let the end of the phrase hang in the air. They both knew that he meant what happened towards the end of her father’s life.
His eyes returned to the documents and Sarah thought she saw a flicker of recognition as his eyes alighted on one of them. But he quickly looked away and looking up said ‘Takes me back seeing the old place. I can remember some of the conversations your father and I had.’ He stared wistfully at the desk, seemingly conjuring up his own memories.
He straightened up and said ‘Anyway, must get on.’ He walked past the desk and noticed the chess board.
‘Have you got a game going?’
Part of her wanted to tell him what had happened in the house. The chess set; the doll, and to ask for his help. But she was reluctant to do so.
‘It’s just a game from the past,’ she said.
‘You ought t
o keep playing,’ he replied.
What did he mean by that? She wasn’t sure if it was her move anyway.
He held her gaze for a few more seconds and then said ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time Sarah.’ And with that they both left the study, Sarah locking the door hurriedly behind her.
As they stood at the front door he said ‘I’m so glad to have spoken to you Sarah. I can see that you are managing, and I’ll arrange the things we talked about. And I think your decision to stay inside the house for a while is the best one.’ He smiled and as Sarah opened the door for him he turned and said ‘Try to relax Sarah. And I wouldn’t bother too much with his old case studies. Maybe it’s best if you leave them alone. We don’t want to dredge up any unfortunate memories do we?’
Sarah managed a slight nod, it seemed to convince him that she would acquiesce.
‘Good, you know it’s for the best.’
As the director shut the door behind him and listened to the sound of Sarah locking the door and the sound of the bolts being located, he was already compiling his report for Sir Terrence. He might not want the director’s input about the children anymore, which irked him, but he had been clear that he wanted him to keep an eye on Sarah for him.
It wouldn’t be a pleasant report to make. Sarah had looked dishevelled, unkempt and mentally confused. He didn’t think she was coping at all well and he couldn’t see her returning to work for a long time. And her treatment of the children was certainly at an end.
As he settled into his car he dialled his number, Sir Terrence answered almost immediately.
‘Yes, I’ve just come from her house,’ said the director.
‘And how was she?’ said Sir Terrence.
He thought for a moment how to phrase what he had seen. ‘She has agreed to stay in the house for a while. I explained that she didn’t need to go back to work in a hurry.’
‘And how was she mentally?’ said Sir Terrence.
The director paused again, he had known Sarah for a long time and he felt that he didn’t want to betray a confidence. ‘She is coping, after a fashion, but, well I’m not sure she is entirely mentally stable.’ He had no idea how he would react, but he replied almost immediately.
‘Fine, fine and you explained about the children and their treatment. That she wouldn’t be involved any longer?’
The director wondered if he had actually been that specific, but he said ‘I did explain that to her.’
‘And how did she react?’
‘She seemed to accept it.’
‘Good, good. We all know it is for the best don’t we.’
The director wasn’t so sure, but he managed to say ‘Of course.’
‘Okay, I think we have done all we need to do, for now.’
The director wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that, but he simply agreed and seconds later Sir Terrence brought the call to an end.
As he sat in his car, he wasn’t exactly sure what he had just done.
Sarah shut the front door behind him and immediately bolted it.
She was confused by the director’s visit and went to the only place she felt safe. She unlocked the study door and as she walked in she began to feel more relaxed. As she sat down at the desk she began to replay the director’s visit. She wondered what he had thought of her situation? She looked down at herself and knew it couldn’t have been favourable.
As she looked at the files of papers in front of her she remembered that he had seemed to be taken by one of them in particular. As she picked it up, she realised that it was one that had interested her as well. The cover was plain and inside there were printed sheets and hand written pages and notes as well. It was all very rough and looked almost as if her father had just been idly doodling away for an afternoon. There were details of buildings and some sort of schedules. But it had clearly been at the ideas stage and presumably hadn’t been taken any further. There were no actual results or any indication that it had been pursued. She wondered why the director had been so interested?
His visit had reminded her about the children and she realised how much she was missing them. Not just in a professional way, but she had become attached to them as well and the final realisation that she wouldn’t see them again hurt her. But she at least felt safe in the cocoon of her father’s house and the director had said that she could stay away from work as long as she needed. In fact he had seemed quite insistent that she did, which at least showed the institute cared about her.
But there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that whilst it was comforting to remain here, she felt she was being cut off from the outside world. And how exactly was she supposed to help the children from within the house?
She longed again for some word from Ben. At the moment he was her only connection to the outside world, and she hadn’t heard from him for days now. She opened the laptop and checked her emails.
Still nothing.
She realised that she had to make a decision about what to do, and soon. She wondered if she would be mentally capable of making any rational decision if she remained in the house alone for much longer.
Sarah spent the rest of the day doing anything to take her mind off making a decision. She even began tidying the house a little, but that didn’t distract her for long and she found herself back in the study looking at her father’s old files. She still couldn’t see why the director had been so interested in the one particular file.
Eventually, slightly exasperated, she wandered into the front room and watched some television.
She noticed that there was no mention of the plight of the children at all. Not even speculation. If the institute had wanted to dampen down the thirst for information, then they had somehow succeeded. She almost missed seeing pictures of the outside of the institute and smiling at the speculation.
She switched the television off, she was finding it impossible to concentrate on one channel for more than a few seconds anyway, and decided on an early night.
She walked past her old room and barely gave it a glance and made her way into the bedroom.
She tried reading a book but still couldn’t concentrate and gave up after re-reading a chapter twice. She resisted no more, turned off the light, still no closer to making a decision about what to do. Maybe she would have a clearer idea in the morning.
The coach was filling up nicely. It was smaller than she had expected it to be, barely enough space for six people, but as she settled into her seat and looked around she realised it was enough. Opposite her sat Emily and Nathan, busily chatting amongst themselves. She couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but they seemed quite amused by whatever they were saying to each other.
In front of her sat her father and the director and someone in the next seat that was hidden from her. They were discussing something and were getting increasingly animated. They seemed to be constantly looking across at the other person that Sarah couldn’t quite see.
She settled back in her seat and watched the road out of the window. There would be plenty of time to talk to her father later. The countryside started to take on a familiar feeling; buildings became more familiar and she recognised a road junction they were approaching. She settled back and decided to doze for a while.
She looked to her side and was surprised to see the chess set and the director opposite her waiting for her next move. He looked up and the expression on his face was serious. They were back in the study at the house, she wasn’t sure how she had got there, but the game would at least occupy her whilst the coach drove to their destination.
As the game progressed, little scribbled notes kept appearing in her hand. Each time she looked away from the board to read one of them and looked back at the board the pieces seemed to have moved. This kept happening until she was thoroughly confused by the game and was sure she wasn’t winning anymore. She looked at the director but he was staring intently at the board. She needed to concentrate more on the game.
And then she heard a v
oice, and it was calling to her, but she couldn’t quite see who it was that was speaking. As she looked away from the board the directors’ face appeared in front of her own, obscuring her view and she had to turn her attention back to the baffling game and of course the pieces had moved; again.
The voice grew louder and more insistent, until she almost recognised it. But as she looked up again the director’s face obscured her vision. With an effort of will she forced herself to stand upright, pushing the table over and she was back on the bus, and there was a split second where her vision was clear and she saw that they were nearing their destination and more importantly she could see the source of the almost pleading voice. It was Ben.
She sat bolt upright in bed and the sounds of the bus journey and the appearance of Ben’s face still remained in her mind. As the dream slowly faded away the sounds of her dreams were replaced not by the expected silence of the house but by different, disturbing sounds.
But the feeling from the dream didn't completely leave her, and as she sat here in the dark she knew what she must do, her decision was made.
It was still pitch black in her room, but from under the door she could see milky light forcing its way through. She scrambled around and switched the small light at her bedside on. Seconds later the light from outside her door vanished.
She carefully and silently swung her legs out of bed and got dressed. She wondered what she should take with her, something told her that she should pack lightly. As she opened her chest of draws she stuffed the nearest clothes into a small holdall. She wondered if she had imagined the light seeping under her door. If she had, then why was she being so quiet? She was alone in the house after all. But she didn’t feel as if she was alone. The past few days had made her feel anything but alone in the house.
She slowly opened her bedroom door a fraction and looked down the corridor. It looked reassuringly empty.
She opened the door fully and entered the hallway and stopped opposite her old room. She felt drawn towards it one last time and she couldn’t resist the urge to look inside.