by David James
Don't trust anyone Sarah. They aren't what they seem.
Nathan's words still haunted her. She wondered if he had meant not to trust Ben?
How would he possibly know?
She would start to look into what was going on in the village, and she would start with the old post office and its owners.
Sarah slumped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She needed to get her mind in tune with the new situation. She felt really alone now. The person she would normally discuss this situation with was Ben. She forced herself upright and left the room.
Outside, the village was carrying on as normal. Everyone seemed to smile as she walked around.
She thought that when the children arrived here it must have seemed like the ideal place to arrive.
She spent the afternoon window shopping; walking and smiling. It was all very pleasant, but she was aware that it was getting her nowhere.
She began to realise that her grand plan had actually consisted of getting to the village and meeting Ben. Apparently, she hadn't actually thought any further ahead than that. She was thoroughly unimpressed with herself. She decided to curtail her afternoon and head back to the guest house.
She reluctantly decided to go to the newsagent first. She just had to know.
As she entered the shop, she could hardly bear to look at the newspapers, fearful of the headlines that Ben had fed them. She gathered a bundle of random newspapers and dropped them on the counter.
'Will that be all?' said the person serving.
Sarah nodded, she couldn't manage to match his smile.
She gathered the newspapers up and headed back to her room.
As she spread them on the bed she took a deep breath and picked up the first one, she could hardly bear to look.
No mention of the children.
She tried the second one.
Something about a celebrity doing something they shouldn't.
She presumed that if there was anything then it would be on the front page.
As she opened all the papers, there was nothing.
She let out a huge sigh of relief.
So what was Ben up to?
Pushing the papers on the floor, she lay back on the bed and resumed her ceiling staring.
After what felt like an age, she was surprised by the sound of her stomach rumbling. She rolled over and looked at the clock. It was half past six. She would take a chance that she didn't need to book into the restaurant downstairs.
She wasn’t inclined to change her clothes, they would just have to accept her as she was.
Chapter Thirty Six
Sarah was not surprised to see that she had no trouble getting a table. In fact she chose what was in danger of becoming her usual table. She wondered whether she would actually be staying here long enough to have a ‘usual table’.
The owner arrived quickly 'Evening madam, what will it be tonight? The usual?'
He seemed to be reading her mind.
'Double vodka again please,' said Sarah. 'And the same again for the food as well.'
The drink duly arrived. It was almost as if he had it pre-prepared.
Sarah took a gulp and put the glass back down in front of her.
'Tough day?'
The voice belonged to a smartly dressed older woman who had magically appeared. Her face was almost entirely filled with a pleasant smile. Sarah put her age in her fifties.
'Not too bad thanks,' lied Sarah.
She held her hand out and said 'I'm Cynthia Chambers.'
The formality made Sarah feel that she should be standing up. But she remained seated and shook her hand.
'I own the old Post Office, you may have seen it on your travels?'
Sarah immediately paid more attention. She was aware that this could be an important moment for her. She had been wondering how she might get to see the old post office and now the owner was standing in front of her.
'How are you finding our little village?' said Cynthia.
'Very nice, very picturesque,' replied Sarah, still trying to formulate some sort of strategy.
'Are you here for long?' said Cynthia.
This was not easy for Sarah to answer.
'A few days, I think, maybe.'
'You don't sound entirely sure.'
'Well, you know, work and all that,' said Sarah hesitantly.
'Oh and what do you do?'
'Psychologist,' said Sarah automatically.
'Oh splendid, some of the other people around here are a mixture of psychiatrists and psychologists.'
Sarah wasn’t ready for the reply, she was used to people looking either nonplussed or defensive when she told them about her occupation.
'I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow afternoon?' said Cynthia, the pleasant smile still in place. 'A few of us get together at the house. It won't be at all formal, just a few friends that usually meet up. A few in your line of work in fact. But it will be nice to get some fresh blood as it were. You know what these villages can be like, the same people always meeting and saying the same things. You could be a breath of fresh air.'
Sarah replied immediately 'It sounds nice. If you don't mind.'
'Not at all. You will have lot’s to talk about I'm sure. Anyway, mustn't keep you, I think your food is about to arrive.'
And then Cynthia made a slight hand gesture. It had been directed towards the other side of the room. And all of a sudden Sarah's food did in fact arrive.
'See you there at one o'clock Sarah,' said Cynthia as she turned and left the room.
Sarah was feeling a mix of elation and dread. The hosts were psychologists, or was it just her friends? Sarah was confused.
She decided to concentrate on her food.
The meal passed quietly and, having refused the offer of another drink, she left and returned to her room. She locked the door and pushed the chair up against the handle.
She was beginning to get used to these early night routines. She read some more of her book and settled down in bed before ten o'clock.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Sarah awoke early and after a small breakfast she passed the morning away wandering around the village. She didn’t feel the urgency of yesterday to find answers immediately, she had the appointment at the old post office and she hoped that she might be able to get at least some answers there.
Maybe it was her imagination, but it seemed as if people were going out of their way to smile at her today. She wondered if she had been given the village seal of approval by Cynthia. Or maybe they were just a friendly group of people. As she looked across the village green, she could imagine that anyone living in such an idyllic location would be smiling all the time.
It was nearly one o’clock as she approached the old post office and knocked loudly on the heavy door.
She had just enough time to make a final tidying adjustment to her clothes
'Sarah, glad you could make it, please come in,' said a smiling Cynthia.
With that Sarah was ushered into the hallway. The inside of the house was in stark contrast to the outside. The exterior was all old world charm, whereas the interior was all bright and modern. The preponderance of white walls and stark furniture gave it an almost clinical feel.
'They said that if we left the outside as original as possible, then we could do what we liked to the inside.' Cynthia had read Sarah's expression perfectly.
'We decided to take them at their word,' said Cynthia.
'It's very impressive,' said Sarah craning her neck to take it all in.
'Come in and meet the others. There's just a few of us today, but they are all dying to meet you.'
Cynthia opened the door to the main room and Sarah was shown in. The room was full of about ten people, they all smiled in unison as Sarah entered, which was a little unnerving for her.
'Hello Sarah,' said several people in perfect harmony.
Sarah smiled and said 'Hello,' trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.
&n
bsp; Cynthia manoeuvred Sarah around the room and she shook hands with everyone as they exchanged brief pleasantries. Sarah found herself sitting down in the middle of the throng of people. It only added to her discomfiture. But everyone seemed to be making an effort to be friendly and she found her face had formed into a slightly rictus smile.
'So Sarah tell us a little bit about yourself?'
Sarah was ready for this.
'I'm Sarah Stevens. And I'm just visiting for a few days.'
They all nodded dutifully.
Sarah was trying to work out the dynamic of the group. It wasn't hard to realise that Cynthia held considerable sway.
'So Sarah, what brought you to our little backwater of a village?' said Cynthia. Sarah felt as if she was being tested, though the expression on her face was still pleasant.
Sarah had prepared for this question, after all it was a reasonable one to ask. But she had spent time wondering how honest she should be.
'I was just looking for somewhere quiet for a few days.'
'Well you certainly found the right place here Sarah!' said Derek.
Cynthia kept looking straight at Sarah, it was clearly not enough of an answer.
'And I was hoping to meet a friend here as well.'
Cynthia nodded. 'And have you met them yet?'
'No, I had hoped that he would be here by now,' said Sarah, who was now beginning to feel a little uncomfortable again.
'Maybe they will be here tomorrow then,' said Cynthia soothingly.
'Maybe,' said Sarah, though she now knew full well that he wouldn't.
Derek then said 'I hear that you are in the business Sarah?'
For a moment Sarah didn't know what he was referring to.
Derek picked up on her rather blank expression and said 'Psychology. I hear you are a psychologist for your sins.'
'Only low level I'm afraid. I'm really quite junior,' said Sarah.
'Still all idealistic then I suppose,' said Derek.
This time the rest of the room joined in with variations of 'Don't discourage her' and 'Nothing wrong with being idealistic’.
At this moment Sarah wondered how many of the people in the room were 'in the business'.
'Derek has been in psychology too long, he's lost his enthusiasm,' said someone else, 'but the rest of us are still as enthusiastic as ever.' The rest of the room, except Derek, enthusiastically nodded.
Sarah hesitated before asking her next question, but she gathered up her courage and said 'Are you all psychologists then'
Derek laughed out loud. 'Oh no! Not at all. A couple of us are psychiatrists and Jane here is quite normal, she is a teacher.'
'Isn't it a little unusual that such a small village would have so many people from the same profession?' Sarah spoke before thinking, and immediately regretted it. But the room kept smiling.
'I suppose you could say that, but we have all worked together before, so it's not that unusual,' said Cynthia.
Sarah now knew she couldn't just rely on using a few stock psychological phrases that would impress people enough to stop them asking too many questions. Now she realised that she would need to be on her guard; these people would certainly know if she was hiding things.
'What area do you specialise in Sarah?'
'Now, now Jane, at least let her have some tea before grilling her. There's plenty of time for that later,' said Cynthia. Jane gave a slightly forced smile and relented.
Cynthia stood up and was soon returning from the kitchen with a rather impressive trolley containing cakes and tea. The arrival of the cakes seemed to lighten the mood and everybody started to concentrate on getting their favourite cakes whilst trying not to appear too greedy. The room went naturally quiet for a few minutes as the cakes were eaten and the tea drunk.
There were a few minutes of general chit chat, which relaxed Sarah as she sat on the sidelines and observed. But inevitably the focus returned to her.
'So Sarah, what is your specialism, what do you work on most?' Inevitably it was Derek who was speaking. All eyes turned towards Sarah.
Sarah realised she needed to be careful in what she said.
'Well early on I chose to specialise in the treatment of children and young adults, particularly relating to behavioural problems.' She hesitated, trying to gauge their reaction.
'Interesting choice,' said Derek, 'and pretty topical at the moment.'
What did he mean by that? thought Sarah.
Cynthia shot a glance across at him that made him shuffle slightly in his seat.
'And have you had much success in the field Sarah?' asked Cynthia.
Sarah was now on her guard, she decided to be as noncommittal as possible.
'Oh you know, it can be frustrating sometimes.'
'Young people can have particular needs can't they,' said Jane pleasantly. There was general nodding of agreement around the room.
'In your professional opinion, what do you think of the children who have been in the news Sarah?' said Cynthia.
Sarah tried not to appear flustered, but she felt her back straighten and tense. All eyes were definitely on her now.
'It's certainly interesting.' She knew that would not be enough. 'I'm sure they are being well treated.'
'They have been there a while and we haven't really heard anything about any progress,' said Derek.
'I'm sure they are doing their best,' she said weakly.
'Have you got any of your own theories Sarah?' asked Cynthia.
She was tempted to say 'Oh yes I certainly have and Ben thinks it has something to do with this nice little village of yours’ and sit back and see the reaction. But she was aware of her position of weakness.
'Just by reading the newspapers, it does look like there may have been some previous issues in their lives,' said Sarah.
'It's just such a shame that they can’t or won't communicate with anyone,' said Cynthia.
There was nodding around the room.
'I'm sure they have tried everything to communicate with them,' said Sarah relishing the fact that she knew about the journals and they clearly didn't. She was enjoying feeling that she knew more than them. She decided to be a bit mischievous.
'So what do you all think about the children and their situation?'
It had the desired effect. They all looked towards Cynthia, she was the only one who's expression hadn't changed.
'Speaking for myself, I would concur with your hypothesis that there had been some form of previous issues their lives. It is usually what causes selective mutism,' said Cynthia.
'And what form of treatment would you recommend?' said Sarah.
Cynthia retained her composure and said in a measured tone 'Oh the usual, CBT, Group Therapy,' she hesitated for an almost imperceptible moment, 'and there are of course some wonderful drugs available.'
Sarah immediately thought of Susan at the institute.
'And of course early intervention in the treatment of young people is extremely important,' said Derek.
This seemingly innocuous comment brought an unmistakeable glare from Cynthia. Derek immediately clammed up. Sarah was about to ask Derek what he had meant, but Cynthia began to speak again.
'More tea anyone?'
The tension in the air suddenly dissipated and everyone, taking their cue from Cynthia, visibly relaxed.
The talk for the next hour was altogether more mundane and Sarah found herself actually relaxing.
It was as Sarah refused her umpteenth cup of tea that Cynthia stood up and as everyone stopped talking she said 'I'm sure we would all like to thank Sarah for coming along this afternoon.' There was general agreement around the room.
'And I do hope that she will accept my invitation to our dinner this evening.'
All eyes turned towards Sarah.
She had absolutely no choice, and she knew it.
'That would be nice,' said Sarah weakly.
The room collectively smiled and Cynthia walked up to Sarah and said in a low voice only
meant for her 'I think we can let you go for now.'
She then said more loudly 'I think we can all reconvene at seven o'clock then.'
And everyone finished what they were doing, drained their cups hurriedly and within less than a minute the room was empty. Sarah joined the end of the queue and stood at the door, about to be ushered out by Cynthia.
'I have something to show you when you come back later. I think you will find it interesting,' said Cynthia.
Sarah left the house and immediately relaxed. She felt she had been almost under interrogation in the house. She was probably being unfair, after all it was natural that they would interested in her opinions. But she realised that she would have to be even more on her guard when she returned this evening.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Sarah was sitting in her room. She had managed a brief doze, a shower and something of a clothes change and she was all ready to go back. She wondered if she had learnt anything? It had all felt a little one sided; they had been learning about her. She needed to learn more about them. Cynthia had mentioned that there was something she wanted to show Sarah, which at least sounded promising.
She gathered up her courage and returned to Cynthia's house.
'Ah you have returned. Welcome, welcome,' said Cynthia.
She showed Sarah through the door and into the living room.
They were all there again. It was as if they hadn't left. Sarah settled in her usual chair and accepted a drink that was offered to her.
She was relieved to see that Jane was there again. Sarah had felt that Jane seemed a bit different from the rest, slightly apart from them. Sarah supposed that it could just be because she was a teacher and not a psychologist. After some pleasant small talk, Cynthia stood up.
'Shall we go into dinner now everybody.' It was clearly an instruction rather than a suggestion and everyone dutifully stood up and walked towards the dining room.
The room was certainly impressive, it was reassuringly traditionally decorated, the large oak table completely dominating the room. Not surprisingly Cynthia sat at the head of the table. Sarah had been placed next to her, which meant that she would have to be careful. To her other side was Jane, who appeared as uncomfortable as Sarah.