by Joanna Neil
At the zoo, Josh raced excitedly from one compound to another. He poked his fingers through the mesh fencing, and Megan was glad that there were barriers to prevent the animals from nipping him. ‘He’s totally fearless,’ she commented to Sam, who stood by her side.
‘He’s like most two-year-olds,’ Sam said, in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Do you think that Ben could be jealous of him?’
‘I haven’t seen too much evidence of that,’ Megan answered, ‘though I suppose it’s a possibility. They don’t seem to interact very much at all. Do you think that’s what lies behind his problem?’
‘I wouldn’t like to say at this moment in time. From what I’ve seen of him, his behaviour is certainly unusual, but I wouldn’t like to be specific about a diagnosis until I’ve been with him a little longer.’
Ben was oblivious to the people around him. He wandered from one compound to the next, taking his time, looking at the housing as much as at the animals, and he seemed to be especially captivated by the open-air compounds where the elephants roamed freely.
A couple of hours later, Megan decided that it was time they had a break. ‘Shall we take them to the café?’ she asked Sam, and he agreed readily enough.
‘It’s lunchtime, children,’ she called to them. Ben didn’t want to leave, and he took some persuading, but in the end they got him to the café. He began to protest loudly when he saw that it was full of strangers and that he was expected sit down at one of the tables.
Megan winced, wondering whether Sam was going to regret his decision to come along. She glanced at him surreptitiously as she manoeuvred Josh through the café, but he appeared to be totally unconcerned.
Ben’s tantrum lasted for quite a while, but in the end Sam won the day. He pressured Ben into his seat and told him, ‘If you sit there and eat your lunch, you can do some drawing afterwards while Megan and I talk.’ He produced two sketchbooks and two sets of coloured pencils from a bag he had been holding. Ben made a grab for the pencils, but Sam held them out of reach.
‘Not yet,’ he said firmly. ‘I said, after you’ve eaten.’
Ben wasn’t happy about having to wait, but his tantrums had no effect on Sam’s decision. Sam didn’t appear to mind that people in the café were looking at them, and he didn’t waver.
‘He isn’t used to situations that are out of the ordinary,’ Megan explained.
‘There’s no need for you to be defensive,’ Sam remarked easily. ‘I think I’m beginning to understand more about the way Ben’s mind works.’
‘Do you? Have you come to a decision about what might be wrong with him?’
‘I have.’ He looked at her guardedly. ‘I can’t believe that you don’t have any ideas yourself.’
‘Perhaps I do,’ she murmured uncomfortably. ‘But perhaps I don’t want to admit to them.’
‘I think he’s autistic. Is that the conclusion you came to?’
Megan nodded unhappily. ‘I’ve thought so for some time now, and it worries me a lot because I don’t think there’s a cure.’
Sam watched Josh and Ben, and remained quiet. Megan said uneasily, ‘You think that, too, don’t you?’
He nodded, and his expression was grim. ‘It’s one of those conditions that are becoming more prevalent, and we’re only just beginning to take notice.’ He looked around at the debris of empty plates and cups and cartons that littered the table. ‘Have we finished in here? Shall we go outside?’
They walked out into the fresh air, and Megan felt the sun’s golden rays warm her bare arms. She felt wretched now that her own inner fears had been confirmed.
As though he sensed what she was feeling, Sam draped an arm around her shoulders and led her towards a bench seat which overlooked a children’s play area.
‘Let’s sit a while,’ he suggested. ‘The children can play while we take a moment or two.’
Josh ran into the nearby sandpit and grabbed a bucket and spade from those that had been provided. Ben stayed close to them, though, and Sam handed him a sketchbook and pencils. The child settled down on the grass to draw contentedly, and that surprised Megan because he hardly ever sat quietly for more than a minute or two.
She watched him, and felt her eyes mist over. She had no answers for what was wrong with him, no suggestions as to what they could do for him. Ben was her sister’s child, and there was nothing she could do to help him escape from the world he was locked into, a world that kept him apart from everyone else. She felt incredibly sad.
She was glad of Sam’s arm drawing her close. ‘Don’t despair, Megan,’ he muttered softly against her cheek. ‘You and Jenny aren’t alone in this. We’ll think of something.’
He understood how she was feeling, and she was overwhelmingly glad of his nearness. His arms were protective, comforting, offering her the support she needed.
Lifting her tearful glance to him, she saw the tenderness and compassion in his grey eyes, and she realised how special he was, how caring and good. Her heart was filled up with emotions that she didn’t comprehend right now, but above all there was an overpowering need for consolation, for solace, that perhaps only he could provide.
Sam searched her face, and as though he seemed to recognise instinctively what was wrong, he bent his head towards her, his gaze resting on the softness of her mouth. A moment later his lips touched hers in a gentle kiss that warmed her heart and turned her senses to flame. Heat flowed through her, filling every part of her being with bone-melting sensation.
She had never felt like this before, and it was as though her whole body had woken up to this powerful new experience, as though she had been reborn.
‘Aunty Meggy… Aunty Meggy…’ Josh’s piping voice sounded in her ears and something was tugging at her jeans, and the thrilling sense of expectation ebbed away as she came back to the present with a jolt. Sam reluctantly drew back, and she looked around, confused and disorientated.
Josh was patting his hand on her knee for attention, but it was Sam who took charge.
‘What is it, little chap?’ he murmured softly, and Megan was glad of the chance he gave her to recover her thoughts.
He had kissed her, and for a few moments she had been transported out of this world and into somewhere she had never ventured before, somewhere heady and exhilarating and full of promise.
Only that couldn’t be, could it? She must have got it all wrong somewhere along the line. Sam had been comforting her, that was all, and she had let her imagination run riot for a while. He was her boss, and tomorrow he would be slating her for being late or not getting her patients’ notes up to date on time. He was only here because he wanted to help Jenny out.
Josh said, wide-eyed, ‘Me made castle. Aunty Meggy, me made castle.’
Sam said quietly, ‘I think he wants us to go and look at it.’
She looked up at him, still dazed and confused, trying to come to terms with the bewildering array of emotions that he had aroused in her.
He wasn’t smiling, and he was looking at her in a way that felt strange and left her at odds with herself.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry for what happened just then. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should never have done that.’
‘It’s all right,’ she heard herself saying. ‘It doesn’t matter. I was upset about Ben and you felt sorry for me. I understand that. But now I’m all right. I know you were just trying to help.’
‘Aunty Meggy…’ Josh sounded impatient now. ‘Come ’n’ see what I done.’
She made a supreme effort to pull herself together. ‘I’m coming, Josh,’ she said. ‘Show me what you’ve made.’
She followed Josh to the sandpit, conscious of Sam walking by her side. They both focussed their attention on the children and the moment was gone for ever.
CHAPTER SIX
SAM dropped Megan and the children off at Jenny’s house at the end of the afternoon. ‘I’ll see you at the hospital on Monday,’ he said.
Their day out had come to
a close far too soon for Megan, and suddenly there was so much that she wanted to say to him. She hesitated, though, conscious that the children were close by.
Sam had been quiet on the journey home, and she wondered if he was still regretting kissing her earlier. She suspected that he was anxious to be on his way now.
Jenny had been waiting for them to come home, and now she stood at the open front door.
‘How did you get on?’ she said to the boys, hurrying to put her arms around them. ‘Did you have a good time?’
Josh was full of excitement and rushed into an account of all that he had seen. ‘I seen efulunts and monkeys. They was making noises at me!’
Jenny listened carefully, smiling at him, and then she turned to Ben. ‘And what about you, Ben?’ she asked. ‘Did you enjoy yourself at the zoo?’
Ben lifted his shoulders and patted his sketchbook to his chest, and Jenny must have realised that she was going to have to be satisfied with that. She was used to Ben and his ways.
Megan wondered when she ought to tell her about Ben’s autism, but she knew that this was not the right time. Perhaps there was never going to be a good time.
‘I’m sure he enjoyed himself,’ she said. ‘He looked at everything as though it fascinated him and then he spent quite some time drawing, but he won’t let us see what he’s done. Perhaps you’ll be able to persuade him to show us.’
Ben was already running with the sketchpad to his room.
Jenny shrugged and pulled a face. ‘Well, I expect I’ll manage to have a sneak look some time.’ She glanced at Megan. ‘Thanks for taking the children off my hands. I feel bad about putting so much on you.’
‘You shouldn’t feel that way,’ Megan told her. ‘I’m your sister—if I can’t help you out, it’s a poor tale. And besides, I love being with the children.’
She stayed long enough to help Jenny settle the boys, and then decided that it was time she went back to the flat to spend an hour or so looking through her medical textbooks.
Jack’s mother stopped to talk to her as she was opening her front door. ‘How are you settling into your new flat?’ she asked. ‘They’re all quite roomy and nicely furnished, aren’t they? I think Dr Benedict was responsible for that—for choosing the furnishings, that is.’ She smiled. ‘My Jack said that you work with Dr Benedict. I expect he’s a really good doctor—I heard how he’d helped your sister and her little boy when they came over the other day. Your sister had a chat with me when she was on her way home. She said that she thought you were lucky to be working with a man like him, but I already knew that he was a caring kind of man—he was really concerned about my Jamie when he hurt himself.’
‘I’m sure he is. I’ve settled in just fine, thank you,’ Megan said. ‘Yes, it is good here, isn’t it? We’re close to town, but there’s still greenery all around us, with the park and the land at the side of the building.’
‘That car that’s suddenly appeared is a nuisance. There are bits missing from it, the wing mirrors for a start, and someone’s had a go at the registration plate. I don’t know who’s parked it out there.’
‘Dr Benedict was concerned about it, too. He said he would do something about it, get in touch with the local authorities, but we’ll probably have to wait until next week for it to be removed.’
‘I’ll be glad of that,’ Joan Hughes said. ‘I keep having to tell my boys to keep away.’
Megan chatted for a while longer and then went inside her own flat. Joan was being friendly, but Megan wasn’t really in the mood to talk. What had happened between her and Sam this afternoon seemed to have had a profound effect on her. It had been just a small kiss, the lightest touch of his mouth on hers, but her lips still tingled in remembrance and she couldn’t even think straight any more.
On Monday morning, though, it was as if the incident had never taken place. Sam’s attitude was purely professional towards her, and there was no mention of the weekend. Instead, he worked his way steadily through a list of patients and assigned her to work on the wards.
‘We’ve admitted a young girl, Mollie Clarke,’ he said, ‘and I think you might be able to reach her, initially, better than me. She probably needs to talk to a woman. She took an overdose of her mother’s sleeping tablets, and so far we haven’t been able to get to the bottom of why she did it. Talk to her, and see if you can make any headway. I’ve listened to her mother’s account of what happened, but I want to hear what Mollie has to say. Until we’ve sorted out what’s causing her problems, I believe we’ll have to keep her in hospital.’
Megan went to the ward and glanced through the case notes before she went to find the girl. She read what her mother had had to say, about how difficult it was for her to help Mollie, and how her friends were bewildered by what was happening to her.
Mollie was lying on her bed when Megan went to see her. She was thirteen years old, with fair hair that tumbled about her thin face and blue eyes that were frightened and despairing. The girl looked withdrawn, pale and very unhappy, and it took a while for Megan to break through the barriers and get her to trust her enough to talk.
‘We want to help you,’ Megan said softly, ‘but we can’t do that if you don’t talk to us. Tell me about how things are at home and at school. Do you have friends who might want to come and visit you?’
‘Why would they want to come and visit me? They all think I’m mad,’ Mollie said in a choked voice. ‘I think I am, too. I must be, or why would I do the things I do? I can’t stop myself. I know it’s crazy, but I can’t do anything about it.’
‘What kind of things? Try to explain it to me—I’m not going to think you’re crazy, believe me. I’m a doctor and I’ve seen lots of people who think the same way that you do. I just want to be able to help you.’
‘I don’t think you can help me. No one can. Lots of people have tried and they get fed up with me. I have to check everything before I can go out—the cooker, to see that the gas is out, the curtains have to be really straight, I need to know that I’ve locked the doors properly. I try to make sure that everything is all right, but then I have to check all over again.’ She gave a little sob, and then said, ‘Sometimes I don’t even manage to get out of the house because I can never be sure everything’s just right.’ She looked at Megan with eyes glimmering with tears. ‘You see? I am mad, aren’t I?’
Megan shook her head. ‘No, Mollie. You aren’t mad. You’re ill, and that’s why you are in hospital. We need to try to understand why you feel you have to do these things, and we have to help you to try to live a normal life.’
‘I don’t know why I have to do these things,’ Mollie cried. ‘I just can’t stop myself, and it’s ruining my life. No one likes me any more. People don’t want to know me any more.’ She slumped back against her pillows, looking drained, tears creeping down her cheeks.
‘It’s not true that no one likes you,’ Megan said. ‘As I understand it, your friends are worried about you. They don’t come to see you as much as they would like to at home because the rituals that you have to go through are getting in the way. Your friends understand that you’re ill, and they want you to get well.’
Megan saw that the girl looked exhausted. ‘You should try to get some rest now, Mollie. I’ll come and talk to you again tomorrow. Is there anything that you need in the meantime? Do you want some magazines to read or something to amuse yourself with?’
Mollie shook her head and closed her eyes.
‘If you change your mind,’ Megan said, ‘let the nurses know. They will do what they can to find anything you need.’
* * *
Megan spoke to Sam later in the afternoon when he came back from the children’s observation unit.
‘How did you get on with Mollie?’ he asked. ‘Did she talk to you?’
‘A little. She’s very concerned about the effect her disorder is having on her life, and on everyone else. That’s understandable, isn’t it? Obsessive-compulsive disorder is an illness that involves
everyone who has much to do with the patient.’
‘That’s true. It’s not an illness that has any easy or quick solutions, and the rituals and compulsions probably arise as a protective measure, a way of creating order in the patient’s life. What we have to do is to help Mollie to feel more confident about herself and about how she’s living her life.’
He briefly scanned the contents of the tray on his desk, and then said, ‘Under normal circumstances, I would have given the case to Julie to deal with, since she has a particular interest in these kind of disorders, but she has gone down with a bug. Since you’ve talked to Mollie this morning, I think it will be best if I keep you on this case.’
‘Thank you. I’d like to follow this one through.’ She glanced at him, then said quickly, ‘I haven’t told Jenny yet about Ben being autistic. I’m trying to find the right moment.’
He grimaced. ‘It isn’t going to be easy to tell her, but perhaps we should think about what options there are for helping him before we say anything. I’ll look into it. There might be one or two places that have particular methods that would be useful in helping him cope. I’ll get back to you about that when I’ve made enquiries.’
She nodded. ‘That sounds sensible. I won’t say anything to her for a while, then. Actually, I might take her over to my mother’s place next week so that she can have a break for a few days. I suggested it to her, and she seemed quite keen on the idea. Mum is going to take a few days off work, and she said she would like to see Jenny and the children. I’ll perhaps stay over for the weekend and then come back for work on Monday.’
He looked at her curiously. ‘Does your mother live alone? You never mention your father.’