Confessions

by Amber Stephens

  Dr Galloway gave her a sideways smile, ‘Well, that is good news,’ he said.

  Is he coming on to me? Shelley thought. Surely not. Dr Galloway obviously realised he might have gone too far because he changed the subject.

  ‘I’ve just been seeing a patient, a young lad, most unfortunately mixed up in the wrong crowds. His case may interest you, with your experience in paediatrics?’

  ‘Oh?’ Shelley replied, suddenly panicked. ‘Perhaps we could chat about it another time, I am due for … a swim.’

  Dr Galloway looked disappointed, and perhaps slightly suspicious? But he nodded politely and Shelley scuttled away.

  Waking briskly round the corner of the building she bumped into Cian.

  ‘Hello, my darling,’ he said. Cian’s face had a charming tendency to light up like a pinball machine when he was pleased to see someone. ‘In a rush?’

  ‘Hello, Cian,’ she said, turning around to make sure Galloway wasn’t right behind her. ‘Got button-holed by the Doc back there, thought for a sec he was coming on to me.’

  ‘Ah, now that’s interesting,’ Cian said. ‘If it was anyone else but you telling me that, I’d remind them of what Verity told us the other day in the “Establishing Boundaries” workshop.’

  ‘What was that?’ Shelley asked.

  ‘That those of us inflicted with this terrible curse tend to have difficulty differentiating ordinary friendly banter from sexually-charged negotiation. We see everything as a flirtation and an invitation to move towards the physical.’

  ‘Oh,’ Shelley said. ‘I see.’

  ‘But as it’s you, I don’t think that is necessarily the case,’ Cian added. ‘Because you are so damn sexy that I have no doubt the doctor wanted to bend you over then and there and give you a thorough internal examination.’

  Shelley blushed and hit him on the shoulder, immediately feeling like a love-sick schoolgirl.

  ‘I say, by the way, Carter,’ Cian said suddenly, with his best RAF-Brigadier accent, looking about to see if they could be overheard. ‘Did you find the tunnel yet?’

  ‘What tunnel?’ she asked.

  ‘One of those damn orderly Johnnies told Larry there’s a tunnel under the wall. The entrance is in the woods behind the pond. You can sneak out without the CCTV spotting you and walk down to the town; it’s only half a mile. Private Larry and I went out on the first night and got hammered down the Fox and Goose.’

  Aha! Shelley thought. That’s why they’d looked so shattered the following day.

  Cian leaned forwards so that his face was close to Shelley’s ear. She felt his warm breath on her earlobe and a little thrill went down her spine. Cian continued, still in the Great Escape voice:

  ‘We were thinking about popping out again tonight, but not making it such a late one. Maybe you and Rose could come out with us? Larry’s taken a bit of a shine to her if you get my meaning. Think he wants to act as her tail-end Charlie, what, what?’

  He was wearing one of Shelley’s favourite scents and it was all she could do to stop herself burying her face into his exposed neck. She was flattered by the invitation, and was just about to agree when she remembered her assignment. There was no way she would be able to go out, have a drink or two, then get back in time to type out Abigail’s story.

  ‘I’d love to, but I think I’d better not,’ she replied, regretfully.

  Cian shrugged. ‘Oh well, can’t blame a guy for trying. See you later.’

  Shelley watched him go wistfully. The job came first; she didn’t want to disappoint Aidan.

  As she walked back to her room, hoping to write a few hundred words before lunch, the BlackBerry in her pocket suddenly vibrated, making her jump. She nipped behind a bush and looked at the display.

  It was Briony.

  How the hell am I supposed to find out about sex clubs in New York?

  Shelley rolled her eyes and thumbed a response.

  I guess that’s a real stumper. If only there were some kind of giant global computer database you could access to look this kind of thing up. Maybe some kind of … I don’t know web, or net or something. But I guess it’s just impossible. Thanks anyway!’

  Shel

  Thirty seconds later the device buzzed again.

  U sure are sarcastic now ur a sex fiend. Will get onto it.

  B

  Shelley walked back to the path and popped the BlackBerry back into her pocket. As she looked up, she saw Sandra approaching.

  Oh bugger! she thought. Did she see me with the BlackBerry?

  She waited for the standard unpleasantness from the nurse as she passed, but Sandra just smiled knowingly at her and carried on walking.

  Uh-oh, Shelley thought. She must have seen me.

  She determined not to carry the thing around with her anymore, and also to find a better hiding place in case they searched her room. Whether it was Cian with his silly accents, or Galloway with his talk of the Mental Health Act, she didn’t know, but she was starting to feel a bit like a prisoner.

  She got back to the room, planning to check her messages again, but as she turned the BlackBerry on, it bleeped at her. The battery was nearly flat. She sat on the bed and considered what to do. She needed to get out of the centre to find a recharger. That was easier said than done though; the nearest town was hardly more than a village.

  There was nothing else for it – she’d have to escape through the tunnel. She decided she would find Cian and take him up on his offer after all. With the last of the juice in the machine she sent a message to Aidan telling him about the missing charger and warning him he might not get his bed-time story tonight. Then she spent the next half an hour wondering if that last comment had crossed the line from harmless joke to unwanted flirtation.

  ‘I knew you’d come around,’ Cian said. She’d tracked him down in the dining room, where he was trying to score some biscuits before the next session started in a few minutes.

  ‘But we need to go now,’ she said. In a rural town, the shops would close early and she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to get the right charger.

  ‘Now?’ said Cian in mock alarm. ‘But that means missing “Saying No to Sex Doesn’t Mean Saying No to Fun” this afternoon with special guest, Dr Verity Parrish.’

  ‘Oh okay,’ Shelley said, turning away, ‘I can always ask Will.’

  ‘Now, hold on just a minute there, m’lady,’ Cian said quickly. ‘No need to go do something drastic. I don’t mind going now, but what about Larry? He wants to come too.’

  Shelley thought for a minute. ‘Leave him a note?’ she suggested. ‘I can leave one for Rose too.’

  ‘Great idea,’ Cian said. ‘Meet you behind the potting shed in fifteen.’

  ‘The potting shed?’ Shelley asked, puzzled. ‘I thought you said the tunnel ran from the woods behind the pond.’

  ‘Yeah it does,’ he replied. ‘But I thought we could have a quick fumble behind the potting shed first, you know; make sure we’re sexually compatible before we do something serious like go on a date.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Shelley said, hand on chin. ‘I’ve thought it over and I think I’ll give it a swerve, thanks. Meet you in fifteen in the woods.’

  He shrugged, and turned to go.

  ‘You see, I prefer to do things the other way around,’ Shelley couldn’t help calling out as she sashayed off in the other direction.

  Maybe this course was doing her some good after all. She was flirting with rock stars now.

  Shelley nipped back up to her room and scribbled a note for Rose, which she left on her friend’s bed. She then dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears, straightened her hair and tried not to look too hard at her eyebrows, which had needed doing since before Christmas. She felt nervous, though whether this was because she was sort of going on a date for the first time in months, or because she was frightened of getting caught, chucked off the course and possibly fired once Aidan found out, she wasn’t sure. She slipped out of the room and crept down the stairs, watchf
ul for staff, particularly Sandra. She stopped at the bottom, considering her options.

  She couldn’t go out the front doors because that would lead her past the Mountain Room’s open door. If she went out the back, she’d be likely to be seen by someone in the canteen. Checking the fire-escape map, she saw there were doors out to the putting green. She’d have to go through the River Room. Slinking down the hall, she peered through the door. The room was empty.

  Suddenly she started as she heard footsteps behind her. And without thinking she darted into the River Room, rushed across and hid herself behind the heavy red drapes. Just in time, because the footsteps followed her into the room and she heard Dr Galloway’s voice.

  ‘Now, Mr Draper, this is the River Room, this is where the sexual dysfunction group meets. It’s a more secluded and intimate room than the Mountain Room.’

  ‘It’s very nice,’ Mr Draper responded. ‘Er, will the group be very large? It’s just that my problem is rather … delicate. I’d prefer to not have to share it with too many people.’

  ‘I quite understand, Mr Draper, but please be assured that difficulties of this type are extremely common, you won’t be sharing anything the other members of your group haven’t also experienced, some of them far worse.’

  Shelley was desperately curious to have a peek but couldn’t risk showing herself. She waited until the poor Mr Draper was led off by Dr Galloway.

  ‘Your course begins Monday week, Mr Draper …’ she heard the doctor saying.

  Shelley turned and tried the doors, they opened easily and she popped her head out, checked the coast was clear before emerging into the weak afternoon sunshine. She skirted the building and made her way to the meeting point in the woods over the road without further incident.

  But as she waited for Cian to arrive, she saw Dr Galloway and Mr Draper exit from the front doors and walk to the car park, just a dozen feet from where Shelley was hiding behind a rhododendron. They shook hands and Draper turned towards Shelley to open his car door. For the first time she saw his face and when she did she stiffened in amazement.

  It was Harry. Freya’s Harry. Perfect Boyfriend Harry.

  The tunnel turned out to be less mysterious than she’d thought. It was simply an electrical substation sunk into the ground by the wall. There was a door and steps on each side. Shelley was quiet on the walk down. She was busy looking about, nervously expecting to see Fresh Paths staff leap out of the bushes. She was also torn between smirking at Harry’s – and by extension Freya’s – little problem and sympathising with them. She settled for feeling sorry for Harry, and smirking at Freya. Apparently not everything about Harry was perfect.

  The Fox and Goose turned out to be a charming little pub, all low beams and smoke stains on the plaster. Shelley gazed in rapture at the glass of Chablis Cian had just plonked in front of her.

  ‘So,’ he said sitting down opposite her with a pint of best. ‘You like to keep a man guessing, don’t you?’

  Shelley wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Firstly, she needed to keep up the pretence of being a sex addict and so flirting with Cian fitted with that; on the other hand she genuinely liked him and didn’t enjoy lying.

  On the other other hand she genuinely genuinely liked him and enjoyed the attention he was giving her. She was left in the unfamiliar position of being the one who called the shots. She could do whatever she wanted and she knew Cian would accept it. She glanced at the clock over the bar. 4.39pm. Hmm, she’d better run now if she was going to find a shop that sold power adaptors. She took a gulp of wine.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, standing up suddenly. ‘Would you excuse me? I’ve just remembered I need to pop to a shop for something.’

  ‘I can come with you if you like,’ he said, rising to his feet gallantly.

  ‘No, I’d rather go alone.’

  He looked a little hurt, so she added in a whisper, ‘Ladies’ things.’ He nodded quickly and sat back down.

  As she left the pub, Shelley smiled at her unintentional brilliance. She now had two excuses in one. Apart from the privacy she’d bought, Cian thought she was having her period, which could be useful if he started to get too fresh later on. Now the problem was in finding an electronics retailer in this sleepy town. Shelley thought she must be blessed when she saw a cab turn into the street. She flagged it and hopped in. The driver told her that the place to get such a thing was on the commercial estate just out of town and twenty minutes later she was back at the pub, finishing her wine.

  Cian watched her, grinning.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘This is great,’ he said. ‘I never get to do this.’

  ‘You never get to drink in a pub with a girl?’

  ‘No,’ he replied earnestly. ‘Not like this. Not just two people, having a quiet drink, just chatting.’

  ‘We’re not chatting, you’re staring at me and grinning like the village idiot.’

  He pretended to look hurt.

  ‘But seriously,’ he continued. ‘This is what I want. I want to be normal, to not be wondering where I can take whatever girl I’m with, and what she might let me do to her. I just want to sit in an old pub, where no one knows me, and chat.’

  Shelley wasn’t sure how to react to this. Was Cian suggesting he had no interest in her at all? He must have realised how his words might be taken and quickly followed up.

  ‘I’m not saying I don’t … I mean, I’m not suggesting …’

  ‘Okay, maybe we need to change the subject?’ Shelley said.

  ‘Yes, great idea. What shall we talk about?’

  ‘The weather’s always safe,’ Shelley suggested.

  ‘Look, don’t get me started on the weather,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘Every morning I watch the telly or listen to the radio trying to follow the reports but they just ramble on for ages about showers in Aberdeen or hail in the Orkneys and I find my attention wandering. I start thinking about all the people in those charming-sounding places going about their lives, gutting fish or fighting off massive seabirds or whatever it is they do and then all of a sudden I realise the weather-person is talking about London and I try to concentrate but then they’ve moved onto Belfast and I’ve missed it again.’

  Shelley looked at her watch, trying to figure out how long they’d been away.

  ‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ Cian said.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m boring you, aren’t I?’

  ‘Boring? No, why would you say that?’

  ‘Because you’re looking at your watch.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m just wondering if they’ll be missing us back at the centre. You’re not boring me at all.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes. Now go and buy me a drink.’

  He stood, looked sheepish and headed off to the bar.

  He was a nice guy, Shelley realised, when you cut through the bluster and the cheekiness. He was simply a nice young man, well spoken, intelligent and desperately insecure. She wanted to take him home and make him a decent supper, then tuck him into bed with a glass of hot milk. She suspected though that this little boy wasn’t one to stay in his own bed for long. Maybe she wouldn’t mind so much if he found his way into hers.

  After a couple of hours, there was no sign of Larry or Rose and they decided they must not be coming. Shelley suggested they get back. She needed to write up Abigail’s story. Cian agreed reluctantly and they made their way out on to the street. The sun was going down.

  ‘Hang on,’ Cian said. ‘Is that Sandra?’

  Shelley spun in panic and turned to look. ‘I’d know those saddle-bags anywhere,’ she said. Sandra was facing away from them, scanning the street. As they watched, she turned to look in their direction and Shelley felt Cian drag her back into the pub. He peered around the doorway. ‘She’s coming!’ he hissed.

  ‘She’s looking for us,’ Shelley said. ‘How did she know we were here?’

  ‘The notes we left,’ Cian said.

&
nbsp; ‘The note I left, I think,’ Shelley replied. So Sandra had been searching in her room, going through her things and looking for the BlackBerry. She sucked in her breath as she contemplated the invasion of her privacy. But Cian was pulling her back into the pub.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘there’s a back door.’

  They crashed out into the beer garden, stumbling against each other and giggling. Shelley felt Cian’s strong arm tuck itself around her waist and help to keep her steady as they ran over the unsteady paving stones in the gloom.

  They finally made it back to the centre well after dark. They stopped just outside a side door and turned to face one another.

  ‘Wait here for a couple of minutes before following,’ Cian said. ‘If I get busted, I’ll make a lot of noise and you can try a different door.’

  ‘My hero,’ Shelley said, giving him a hug. ‘Thanks, I enjoyed myself.’

  ‘That …’ Cian said, grinning, ‘… was the best date I’ve had since … well, since I can remember.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ Shelley said, rolling her eyes.

  His face hardened. ‘No, I mean it. Wait till you hear my confessional tomorrow. You’ll see what I mean. I don’t have … well, I don’t do this sort of thing usually.’

  Shelley stared back at him, unsure of what to say. Cian kissed her, quickly, on the cheek and turned to go. But then he stopped, turned and said, ‘Oh, by the way. This came out of your bag in the pub, thought I’d better bring it along for you.’ And he tossed a little package to Shelley.

  It was the power adaptor. She looked back up at him. He moon-walked backwards, waving as he disappeared into the building.

  Cian came into Shelley’s room later that night. He was wearing a black rubber mask. She tried to sit up but found she couldn’t move.

  This happens to me a lot, she thought to herself. Why am I always stuck to the damn bed every time some sexy beast walks through the door?