by Hiba Basit
‘Everyone must have chocolate once in a while,’ Annette says.
‘Yes. But I don’t want to ruin my teeth so I don’t think I’ll eat them in one go.’
‘Good idea! What did you do after?’
‘We came straight here.’
Annette forces herself to stay silent, sensing a change in Jacob’s mood.
‘Maybe I did take the chocolates and Mummy did notice, but she didn’t say anything,’ he says.
The way he says this makes her wary, as if he’s no longer talking about the chocolates. ‘What makes you think she didn’t say anything?’ she tries. ‘Has mummy noticed stuff but not said anything to you before?’ He ignores her, so she drops it for the time being. ‘What about your lessons? What did you do in between them?’
‘Well, it’s lunchtime, isn’t it?’ He doesn’t look at her, which concerns her. She feels the presence of a scene coming on.
‘What did you do at lunchtime?’
He doesn’t reply.
‘Who did you play with?’ Annette smiles warmly. ‘Don’t want to talk any more, huh?’
‘I don’t mind.’
Annette keeps quiet, deciding that silence may be best for the next half an hour of the session. Instead, she picks up a truck and starts making sounds. He lifts his own car and races with Annette’s truck, playfully crashing into it.
‘Lunchtime is boring,’ he says warily.
‘Sometimes they are, you’re right.’ She thinks about asking him why he was bored at lunchtime but decides against it. The thing with Jacob is the wrong question asked could be the difference between a successful or unsuccessful session. ‘Did you play with…’ she begins, but instantly halts.
‘I don’t want to talk about who I played with!’ Jacob shouts angrily.
Although she is shocked, she tries to remain neutral in her expression. ‘Tough subject, play. Sometimes the activities get all jumbled up.’ He eyes her cagily. Then, he throws his car to the side and wraps his arms around his knees. This is definitely not one of their better sessions, she thinks, as she watches him rocking to and fro. Leaning back against the wall, she waits. Jacob lifts his head up and looks at her. His eyes look like emerald stones on velvet.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers.
‘It’s all right. Everyone gets mad sometimes.’
‘I’m not mad at you.’
She smiles reassuringly. ‘Well, sometimes people take their anger out on other people they’re not mad at. Does that make sense?’
He nods. ‘That’s what I’m doing. But I’m not mad at you.’
‘If you want, you can tell me who you’re mad at.’
He freezes, his expression suddenly wide-eyed and fearful. ‘I can’t say.’
‘OK.’
‘I don’t want you to know. I don’t want anyone to know.’
Annette nods. ‘I know you want to keep things to yourself. But even the bravest of us ask for help if we need it. That’s all I’m saying.’
His face begins to twitch. Annette notices his grip intensify on the car as he tries to turn his back to her. She begins to jot down a couple of words in her notebook when Jacob hurls the car at her.
‘I don’t have anything to tell anyone! I’m happy just the way I am!’ he shouts, before running towards the window in her office.
Chapter Seven
The sky outside is deadly, already threatening to pour the heavy pitter-patter of rain on the streets of Canberra. The gates of the cell open with an ear-splitting clack and Andrei steps forward, a grim but satisfied look pasting his face. The thought crosses Annette’s mind that his air of superiority is a deliberate attempt to scathe the vigilant public.
Unnerved, she fixes him with a steely look. Andrei’s hands are tied behind his back and his feet are locked in chains. The guards restraining him stand vigilantly, alert to the slightest movement within the room. Even Annette refuses to take her eye off him.
Reluctantly, the guards back away, feeling it unsafe to leave her with him, despite her brave insistence.
‘You look like you’ve been rolling around in a tip,’ she says, smiling cunningly despite her best efforts. Andrei shuffles in his chair, briefly turning to check if the guards are watching him from behind the screen doors.
‘How is my little toy girl?’ he asks and for a split second, she thinks he’s genuinely worried, despite the vile terminology. But then, he meets her gaze and explodes into a loud and uncouth laugh.
Annette sits down, keeping her cool. ‘I’ll ask the questions, you answer them. I’m not here to make conversation. Is that clear enough for you?’
His smile offers no warmth. ‘Crystal. Though I only asked after my little girl.’
Something hard instantly sticks in her throat. ‘You’re so ignorant of the damage you’ve caused those children,’ she says angrily, refusing to talk about Alex so early into their conversation.
Andrei remains unmoved.
‘You should be grateful I’m even here to see you. Frankly, I think it’s a waste of time!’ she says frostily.
‘Are you married?’ he asks. She feels his legs close in on hers. The chains hammer loudly in warning and she quickly shifts her feet back, feeling irritated and slightly panicked all at once.
‘That’s none of your business!’
He leans forward, casually. ‘Oh, I think it is.’
For a minute, a look passes across his face that makes her think he’s challenged her. Her pulse involuntarily quickens. Before she can stop herself, she rises and moves forward so rapidly that he nearly falls off his chair.
‘I’m not here to entertain a bastard like you! Personally, I’d love to witness the death penalty return in your honour but, until then, you’re going to be in prison for a very long time.’
She can smell his foul breath on her skin as he ventures a laugh but thinking better, stifles it. ‘The only visits you have to look forward to are mine, so you better start co-operating.’ His expression radiates brief shock before quickly regaining composure. ‘I don’t appreciate not being listened to, Andrei. I don’t take well to it!’
For the first time, he is backed into total silence.
Annette takes her seat. ‘Now, from my familiarity with guys like you, almost always, they have their reasons for what they did. My job is to find your reasons. Your job is to make it easy for me and tell my why. Is that clear?’
He bites the inside of his lower lip, appearing defeated. ‘If you say so, is it Miss, or Mrs Coulter? How am I supposed to tell?’
Outside, at that moment, the sky releases its weight, pouring rain as hard as rocks in the expanse. She pictures a huge rock crushing Andrei’s bones. The picture amuses her as she lifts up her left hand.
‘There’s usually a ring on a finger,’ she offers plainly, revealing her diamond ring. He whistles as she turns to her notes. The whistle fades, catching her attention.
‘You can’t do anything to me, Annie.’
The nickname he has used without her consent runs along her spine, making her heart pulsate. She opens her mouth to speak but Andrei cuts her off. ‘No law says that an offender can be manhandled by the public!’ He is suddenly buzzing with energy as he says this, his body charged with electricity. ‘More so, you need me! You need me to tell you my part of the story. Your threats are futile. You won’t visit me just once because that’s not how you function. I think after five, ten or fifty visits, we could become good friends.’ He leers, because in her silence, she is flicking through the criteria of her cases and knows she has to visit a minimum of three times before she can discontinue her services with him. Even then, cutting off complete contact could harm Alex’s case.
‘You have no friends,’ she says bluntly.
Andrei shakes his head, disappointed at her for saying this. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’
Is that a twinkle she just saw in his eye? Wanting to leave as soon as possible, she decides to level with him.
‘Listen. Your co-operation with
me is the only thing keeping you here, in this immaculate prison. You’re right, I need you nearby. But if you don’t talk, you’re no use to me! So you can co-operate with me at leisure, or I can leave you to your own devices. I suggest you bide a little more time before you commit yourself to a life I don’t think even you can handle.’ Andrei opens his mouth but thinks better of it. ‘I work with people to help them rectify their thinking. To believe in and think better of themselves. But it doesn’t mean I can’t bring people under. To think of themselves as the useless piece of shit they are. I save this gift for the worthless. And you, Andrei, are at the top of my list.’
She calls the guards over and walks towards the door, making a beeline towards the exit of the prison.
‘I bet Alex isn’t talking.’ His words bounce off the walls and fill the room, making her stop. ‘She won’t talk. Not until I let her!’
Annette wills herself to keep moving, but the malice in his laughter makes her twist around like a snake.
‘Funny how you have to make guesses about her,’ she says. ‘Thing is, she’s got the best support. You, however, will be sitting here with your hands and feet tied like an animal, using the same smug attitude that never got you anywhere. This is your life, Andrei. Forever.’
He flicks two fingers at her as the guards pull him in the direction of his cell. His middle finger is bruised, the skin blue at the apex, peeled back from the nail. Annette feels nausea creeping up, a gut-wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach. Trying not to gag, she rushes out of the room and into the drizzling rain.
Back at her office, Abigail is working on a set of reports to be completed by Tuesday. She keeps herself pinned to her chair, examining the information typed in faint italics. Browsing through the paperwork, she attempts to answer the questions set, but realises that nothing is going in. Frustrated, she tries harder to focus, wrenching her body upright, flattening her legs and arms out and resting her elbows on the table. However, once again, her vision blurs and her mind becomes distant. She finds herself drifting into a trance, unpleasant images flashing into her mind. She pushes them back, but they force their path through like a huntsman chasing its prey and land with a heavy thud in front of her eyes. She remembers the children running in the opposite direction, the feel of the spiny grass as it scratched her legs, the little girl sprawled on the floor, blood splattered everywhere, the look of nothingness on her face.
Abigail starts to shake and some of the papers slide off her lap. She turns her gaze to the sun, hoping its glowing shards of light will stick in her mind and blind the memories permanently. An image of a male hand, blurred and bruised, creeps into her vision and she scrambles out of the room, making a beeline for the ladies, laboriously trying not to throw up in the corridor before she can make it in time.
***
My legs are being spun like a spider’s web. Well, not my legs but the legs on my wheelchair, which Nurse Mary rolls along the corridors of the hospital. My chair bends into another corridor and I nearly lose my balance, just as Mary circles her arm around me, balancing me into position. She takes her keys out and unlocks another door, locking it behind her. There are so many doors to lock and unlock here.
‘We’re here, Alex,’ she says, abruptly halting outside a towering door. The nameplate states the presence of Dr. Annette Coulter, Clinical Child Psychologist. I instantly want to get back into bed and shut the world out. I want the whole world to shake around me, magically transporting me next to Andrei. I try and say his name out loud but every time I do, my throat sticks together like glue. I don’t know if this happens because I have become “acutely mad” as I heard one of the other girls on the ward whisper.
Mary knocks twice and wheels me in. My eyes finally land on her. She looks up and smiles, showing a straight line of white teeth. Quickly, I lunge for the wheels and push back, but Mary rolls me forward, mistaking my intention. Her hand touches my bare arm and it feels disgusting. I jump away, not wanting anyone to touch me. Out of nowhere, Andrei comes rushing back to me and I know I can’t do this. I don’t want to talk to anyone about my feelings when I have none. All of my feelings, emotions, my thoughts, they were, are controlled by Andrei. And I want him back! He’s the only person that makes sense to me. I don’t want Mary to care for me or have everyone gawk at me as if I will crack like glass. I just want to be back at the orphanage, my home, with all the nurses and children, caring for Mathias the way I used to.
Mathias! This is the first time I’ve thought of him. Where is he?
‘Hi, Alex,’ she says. I turn away from her, suddenly realising that we’re alone. She looks at me coolly, not as if I will smash like glass, but as if I’m a glass half full. It’s pity and I don’t want it. ‘My name is Annette. Do you want to sit on the couch here?’ I could easily sleep on the cushions on the couch; they look so fluffy and silky. When I don’t answer, she pushes me towards it, leaving me in my chair. Then, she takes another chair and sets it next to mine, sitting down with an elegant twist of one leg over the other. Her earrings catch my attention. They sparkle like the stars in Romania.
The thought of home lodges a lump in my throat. Why do I get the feeling that something is wrong? That this was not how my life was meant to be? But when bad things happen, they feel out of my control, like I’m a puppet in a play and someone more powerful is pulling on my strings.
I stare at my fingers, just so I’m not looking at her. My skin is cemented with dandruff. She reaches for the tissue box and places it on my lap. I look at her. Is she stupid? Does she think I’m going to cry in front of her? Then, almost as if my sense of touch fleetingly left me, I feel a chill run down my cheek. I glance down and watch as a drop of water leaves my skin and makes a mark on the tissue popping out of the box. I stay very still, like a statue, and wait for this nightmare to be over. Andrei would be disappointed if he saw me right now. Actually, he’d be disgusted.
She is silent. Does she want me to talk? I move my hands to the wheels when she suddenly speaks.
‘You can say and do anything you want when you’re with me.’ It’s wrong to show negative emotions to others. This is what Andrei taught me, so then, how could I have failed him so quickly? ‘Or, we can sit here in silence, that’s fine as well.’
There is something strangely tempting about her voice. It‘s soft and kind, yet strong. Then again, maybe she is saying this to make me like her. She must want something. Andrei said people would only speak to me if they wanted something from me. He said never to trust anyone who is kind. Panic sprouts in my chest and I look around the room to find the exit.
‘There are toys over there. You can play with them, if you want.’
Why does she want me to talk to her? What happens if I never talk again? What will she do? Will she throw me onto the streets? I wonder how I’ll find Andrei once I’m free. I know he’ll be waiting for me.
I know what she’s thinking as she sits there. She’s thinking about how small and pathetic I am. She probably wants to break me like a twig. I bet she could. She could wrap her soft hands around my filthy body and snap me into pieces. The thought of my body snapping into pieces makes me feel calmer. That’s something Andrei and I would probably laugh about. She starts to say something but before she can finish, I feel myself drifting off into a longed-for sleep until everything is dark and peaceful.
Annette recalls the first time she saw Alex. It was in the video Abigail emailed to her, in which she was perched on the grassland like a lifeless corpse. The state the girl was in had horrified her. Annette entered into the profession of child psychology with the knowledge that what was most people’s downfall would represent her strength. Her trump card was her ability to level with her emotions. She would never let her personal feelings affect her judgment. And she was right; day after day, she’d work tirelessly on the cases that were assigned to her. She’d try to reach an outcome as quickly as her mind would allow. It’s true that she developed a relationship with her children, but once the case was
solved, she’d move onto the next one as easily as the seasons. That’s the way the cookie crumbles, she’d say coolly. It wasn’t that she was unfeeling, quite the opposite in fact, but it was the single-handed way she’d managed to become such a reputable psychologist.
The children loved her and knew she was there for them if they needed to talk, but at the same time, she gave them the chance to gain independence and move on with their lives, separate from the knowledge she shared with them.
But when she saw Alex for the first time, her own body jutted forward, propelled by some unknown force. She took in so much filth, more than she'd ever seen on any child before, let alone any human, almost as if it was glued on her scrawny limbs. It was when she thought that was the worst of it that she noticed the dried wine-red blood. It was everywhere, stained on the rags she wore as clothes and splattered in unpleasant streaks across her face. Fuck was the first word that crossed her mind. What had this girl gone through to make her look as feral as she did?
Now Annette watches Alex sleeping in her office, her head falling to the side. Her stick legs peek out from beneath her gown, wrapped in bandages. Annette imagines the bruised and sunken marks hidden underneath them. She can see Alex’s fear. It’s in her eyes, the way they jump from one spot to another. She wishes she could banish the thoughts and memories that are stopping her from speaking but she has no idea what nonsense has been fed to her.
‘Andrei,’ Alex suddenly whispers. Annette looks at her but she is silent once more. In the quietness that resumes, she wonders if she imagined it. She is about to call for Mary when Alex whispers it again. As she continues to repeat the single word, a nauseating feeling creeps into the pit of Annette’s stomach, not because of the name she is whispering but because of the way she is calling for it.