Gently I lifted her eyelids. Her eyes had rolled up and showed white. I lay back in my chair, my muscles relaxed, and my breathing deep and even. It was not a well known fact, but during a session like this the hypnotist also falls into a parallel trance. A similar phenomenon to the way a group of women living together will start to bleed at the same time every month. I didn’t consider it a bad thing as it meant the hypnotist could help entrain the subject into a deeper trance.
I started speaking again. ‘This darkness that you are floating in is not powered by money, the sun, machines, rotating gears, oil, God, or anything you know. It is powered only by you…. It is eternal…unfixed. There are no clocks here because time is not operating chronologically. Time is fluid. Your memories are all alive. Nothing can be lost here. You can find anything you think you have lost. All the things you saw, heard, did, and felt are waiting here for you. Days, weeks, months, years they have been waiting. You are in charge. Nothing here can hurt you.’
I paused before I carried on. ‘Now, I want you to go back in time and find a place you loved. A place where you have been happy in the past.’
A child-like smile crept into her face.
‘Are you in your happy place now?’
‘Yes,’ she replied in a monotone.
‘Where are you?’
‘I am in the woods…in France…. My father owns this land.’
‘Describe everything you see and do.’
‘It is…late summer…perhaps even autumn. I’m not too sure, but it has not rained for many days…. It is hot and dry and the yellowing grass is full of grasshoppers and crickets. They are calling out to each other. Everything here is alive and growing…. There are dragonflies flying above my head…. They are so beautiful. Everything is so beautiful…. Even the deadly scorpions hiding under the stones. Anton says I should be careful of them, but I’m not afraid of them. They have never harmed me. I lie down on the rotting leaves and look up to the blue, blue sky. And I feel so happy.’
She giggled softly.
‘Who is Anton?’
‘He takes care of the grounds.’
‘What’s happening now?’ I asked.
‘The mistral wind is blowing through the orange leaves making them detach and rain down on me. I put my hand out and an oak leaf has fallen into it. There is a red ant on it. It is running everywhere in a panic, but I’m not going to hurt it. I put it down on the ground and watch it running into a hole in the soil… Anton told me yesterday that under our feet there are mushrooms waiting impatiently for the rains to come…so the earth will become damp…and they can sprout.’
Her expression was contented.
‘I want you to leave that beautiful scene and to remember what happened to you two days before your car accident. Can you do that?’
She nodded.
‘What do you see?’
She remained silent.
‘Tell me what you see,’ I urged.
Her face changed, hardened. A frown marred her forehead. ‘I am at the hairdressers having my hair and nails done. There is a party later tonight.’
‘But you are not happy?’
‘No. There is a knot in my stomach.’
‘Why is there a knot in your stomach, Olivia?’
‘Because it is an Invisible Society party.’
I frowned. ‘What is the Invisible Society?’
‘It is a secret club…for billionaires.’ Her voice was subdued and flat.
‘And you are a member?’
She smiled slowly, an odd, knowing smile. ‘No. You have to be a parasite or a scavenger to join.’
That was the first warning that I was going where I had never dreamed I’d go with Lady Olivia.
‘If you are not a member why are you going to the party, Olivia?’ My voice was calm.
‘I’ve been paid to attend.’
I felt a sense of unease. Yet, it was my duty to walk her up to the dark mirror and see what was hiding there, forgotten by time. ‘Where is the party being held, Olivia?’
‘Underground. It is always held underground… In one of the iceberg houses.’
‘What is an iceberg house?’
‘It is a house that has many floors dug into the ground. They have secret rooms underneath the house. You could never tell by simply looking at the house from the street.’
‘Move forward to the party.’ I waited a few seconds and then I asked, ‘Are you at the party?’
A slow nod.
‘Tell me what is happening.’
‘I am sitting in a pool of light in a dark, cavernous room. And I am naked but for a pair of shiny black stiletto boots. There are people in the shadows. They are arranged in a circle around me.’
Son of a gun! ‘Who are the people in the shadows?’
‘I cannot see their faces. I’m not allowed to.’
She breathed softly.
‘What are you doing in the circle?’
‘I’m waiting.’ Her voice held the first hint of a scratch.
‘For what?’
‘For one of them to tug on my nipple clamps. When that happens I have to go to him quickly or there will be…unnatural consequences.’
I stared at her face, astonished. What the hell? Was she faking it?
Once a woman had pretended to be under hypnosis. It was her way of acquainting me with her sexual fantasy, a scenario where I played a major role. But that was a simple case, so shallow in scope that I had actually dealt with it in the consulting room using light hypnosis.
It was almost impossible to resist the soundless metronome.
I studied her for a few more seconds. She was very still, breathing calmly, down in her diaphragm. No, there was no way she was faking it.
‘Why are you at the party, Olivia?’
Silence hung in the air for a moment. Then: ‘I’m not called Olivia here… I answer only to Velvet.’
I inhaled sharply. I’m going where I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t push or lead, but I could not help it. The words tumbled out of my mouth. ‘What have you been paid to do, Velvet?’
She whispered something.
‘I can’t hear you. Say it again,’ I urged gently.
She opened her mouth and I leaned forward.
Her voice was almost inaudible, but this time I heard it. ‘I have been paid to debase myself,’ she mumbled. ‘Any one of these men can do whatever he pleases with me.’
4
Lady fucking Olivia was a high-class hooker!
It didn’t make any sense. Why? Why would the heir of the vast Swanson fortune prostitute herself for money? I slumped back in my chair, shocked and oddly hurt by the revelation. And yet it made perfect sense. The word association game had exposed her glass-like fragility, and an inner world filled with secrets.
For a few seconds I debated what to do next. The answer was obvious. The hypnosis had been a success. It had retrieved her memories, albeit an unpalatable one with it. My duty was not to judge or solve any mystery. All I had to do was bring her out with her memories intact and send her on her way. I had paved the way and any hypnotist could take over now.
I looked down at her. Her blonde hair glowed a silvery blue in the light from the metronome. A thought flashed into my mind—I would never see her again—and I was suddenly overwhelmed by an irresistible crush of curiosity. Perhaps it was wrong to give in to that impulse, but I could not stop myself. It was as if I, too, was helpless and in a trance set by her mysterious alter-ego, Velvet.
What happened to her? What did she do next?
‘What happens next, Velvet?’
‘I crawl towards the man.’ Her tone is robotic and flat. Devoid of excitement, pleasure, or joy. ‘When I am in front of him I lie back on my elbows and open my legs. He inserts his finger into me and I—’
‘Freeze,’ I said, and she stopped mid-sentence.
I had ripped myself out of my own trance. I was chillingly wide-awake. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. I had badly overstepped the mark, but insid
e my trousers, my cock was rigid, the erection so powerful it throbbed and pulled painfully against the material. I shifted to ease the tension.
Never before in my professional life had I done something that was not beneficial to my client. This was the first time. I had been put into a position of trust and I had just abused it. My initial instinct had been spot on: under no circumstances should I treat her. She was in transition. She was trouble. Especially after this. I could never be impartial. I had never been.
I decided to take her through one more memory, a pleasant one, then I would bring her out and terminate our relationship. I wanted no more. I could not afford to get involved.
‘Leave that scene now, Olivia,’ I said quietly, but my voice throbbed with emotion. ‘Let’s go backwards, back to your childhood. Let’s travel to when you were five years old. It’s your birthday. What are you doing?’
Her face changed—that same creepy, child-like face came back. ‘My birthday. There’s a bouncy castle and a clown. There are a lot of kids around, but I don’t know most of them. I start walking away from the garden. I am opening the kitchen door. Blanca is there. She beams at me.’
‘Who is Blanca?’ I asked.
‘She is the housekeeper.’
‘What happens next?’
‘She holds out a wrapped box. “I’ve a present for you,” she says. “What is it?” I ask. “I can’t afford anything expensive, but I got you this,” she says with a huge smile and gives me her gift. I tear it open. It’s a doll with blonde hair. I feel nothing inside me, but I smile at her and open my arms for a hug. “Thank you, Blanca. I love it.” She hugs me tightly and smiles happily. “Off you go then and enjoy your birthday,” she says and I move through the kitchen holding the doll to my chest. I go up the servants’ stairs and walk along the corridor. It’s cold and dark.’
‘Where are you going, Olivia?’ I asked.
‘I’m going up to my bedroom in the tower.’
‘Your bedroom is in the tower?’ I asked incredulously.
‘Yes. I wanted it that way. I wanted to be a princess in a tower.’
Her face changed suddenly. ‘Oh no,’ she gasped. ‘Someone has come into the corridor. It’s going to happen again,’ she moaned. Her eyelids fluttered and she whimpered anxiously. Her mouth twisted into a grimace of terror.
‘You’re safe, Olivia. You’re completely safe. Nothing can hurt you. You’re not there. You can watch it all from a safe distance. There is no danger now. Stay calm. Stay relaxed.’
She breathed out through her mouth.
‘Are you alone?’
‘No,’ she breathed.
I stared at her. ‘Who is there with you?’
She shivered. ‘Can I go back?’
‘Just tell me who is there with you?’
‘I don’t want to look,’ she cried feebly.
‘There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of. I want you to relax and go deeper into the darkness. Nothing there can hurt you. And when you are ready just take one little look.’
Her lower lips trembled and her legs began to paddle as if she was trying to swim out of her situation. I realized that she was in danger of being torn out of her hypnotic trance, which would be very dangerous. It would drop her into a deep depression, but I simply could not leave it be.
‘Nothing can hurt you,’ I insisted, my voice trembling. ‘Tell me what you see.’
‘I don’t want to. I don’t want to.’ Then she went rigid. Her face was like a mask. ‘The white owl is here,’ she shrieked, her voice so thin and eerie I felt dread like cold water down my back.
‘What is the white owl doing?’
Her eyelids twitched and she began gasping for breath. ‘Watching me. Always watching me.’ Her fingers trembled.
What the hell is going on? I knew memories that were too traumatic and frightening were hidden away and covered over with less frightening images. Even in hypnosis this was the brain’s final attempt at protecting the individual from the trauma or the suppressed memory. The secret that must be protected at all costs. In order to avoid seeing the perpetrator the patient conjures up dream material or animals.
‘It’s all right. You don’t have to go forward. You can go back to the darkness to where the owl cannot see you.’
I waited until she had stopped trembling.
‘Can the owl see you now?’
She shook her head.
‘Good. Describe the white owl to me.’
‘It is big and white with staring eyes. It sees everything… Everything.’ Her teeth showed her lips drawn back in an odd grimace. ‘It hates me.’
‘Why does it hate you?’
‘Because I exist.’
I froze, stunned. It was not at all as I had thought. There was something terribly wrong here. All my assumptions were turning out to be a lie. There was a world of secrets going on behind the façade of wealth, glamor and respectability. She lived in a world of mystery.
It was far bigger, by far bigger than my fatal attraction to my patient. I glanced at my watch. Our time was almost up. I stood at a crossroad. Did I take her on or set her adrift? She was a prostitute. Of that there was no doubt, and yet she was calling out to me to help her. If I made a mistake with the Swanson heir another humungous disgrace awaited me. But I had survived that once and I could do it again.
My life was ruined anyway—this was my chance to do the right thing. There was a cloak of malevolence that enveloped not only her, but me, too. That sin had touched me and if I did not do something I would be responsible for its total and complete warp of her. It was not by accident that she had come to me. Once before I did not see what was in front of me, but this time I would not fail.
The mind buries memories that are too traumatic for it to cope with. It was a mechanism of sanity, preservation. Letting her remember what she had seen under hypnosis could bring harm on two fronts. First, she would have to deal with something she had no idea about. Her prostitution. Second, and perhaps more important, I would almost immediately be accused of nurturing false memories. I needed time to work on her properly. I knew what I had to do.
‘Walk away from the corridor, Olivia. Walk back to the party. Walk back to where there is cake and sweets and jelly and the bouncy castle.’
A smile came into her face. In the blue light she became a child again.
‘At the count of five you will wake up relaxed and feeling wonderful, feeling so much better than you have done for a long time. And you will remember nothing of your journey back into the past. Remember, when I have counted to five you will wake with no memory of what happened during your hypnosis session.’
I paused to let it sink in and then I spoke again. ‘One… You are returning into your body… Two… Sensations are coming back… Three… Feel all of you return… Four… You feel wide-awake, happy and energetic… Five.
She opened her enormous eyes and looked directly at me and I felt an electric current run through me. For interminable seconds we stared at each other. I could not tear my eyes away. My ears buzzed. And then I remembered myself. I pulled my gaze away.
‘How do you feel about your first session?’ I asked, standing up and touching the light switch.
Harsh yellow light flooded into the small room. The space was no longer intimate and bristling with sexual tension.
She blinked in the strong light and licked her lower lip. ‘I think it didn’t work. I think I dozed off,’ she said slowly. When her eyes had become accustomed to the light she looked at me with a quizzical, puzzled expression.
I knew instantly what was troubling her. Women clients were always falling for me. It was natural for a patient to confuse their feelings of gratitude for feeling good with feelings of love. The thing that kept them at bay was my total detachment. But I had looked into her eyes just now and allowed her to see that she affected me. That something had passed between us. I had to put that distance back. If I was going to help her I had to draw the lines quickly, or I could totally me
ss her up.
‘What is important after the first session is how you feel. How do you feel?’ My voice was purely professional. A solicitous care for my client.
‘I feel great. Better than I’ve done for a long time actually,’ she admitted, a trace of confusion and sexual awakening in her eyes.
‘Good,’ I said decisively, and started to walk toward the door. ‘When you feel able to, please join me in my office.’
I sat at my desk and pretended to make notes in her file. In fact, I was writing nonsense. I never made notes while the client was around. Especially when I had the recording of the entire session.
She came out and sat opposite me. ‘Tell me the truth. That was a failure, wasn’t it?’ she asked.
I looked up at her. ‘Not at all. It was exactly what I expected. I was laying the groundwork. We didn’t do any regression yet. We will be doing that during your next appointment. The important thing is how you feel.’
‘I feel great,’ she said slowly.
‘Then the session was a success,’ I said and smiled politely. Awkwardness quickly stretched between us. ‘This will be the end of our first session,’ I said and standing up, started walking toward the door. It must have looked strange, but I just wanted it to be over.
She followed me out.
‘Let me get your coat,’ Beryl said, jumping up from behind her station. She came back holding up a long dark coat, its discreet silk and cashmere tag showing.
‘Thank you,’ Lady Olivia said, and slid her arms into it.
‘Well, I’ll say goodnight,’ I said.
‘Goodnight and thank you, Dr. Kane,’ she replied softly.
I nodded and, turning away, went back to my office.
I closed the door and for a moment stood leaning against it. Damn it. What the hell was the matter with me? Why was I so affected by her? I walked over to my desk drawer and, taking my bottle out, poured myself a large drink. I brought it to my lips. The liquid hit my roiling stomach like petrol taking fire.
Fuck! I needed that.
5
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