by S M Mala
Bea was waiting in reception, late in the afternoon. ‘Beatrice Mayon.’
She had managed to acquire the last available appointment to get the initial consultation over and done with.
Standing in the plush clinic, she was starting to feel scared.
Someone inflicting pain on her was the last thing Bea needed.
‘If you would like to take the lift to the first floor, he’ll meet you there,’ the receptionist replied.
Looking around and seeing people walk into one of the rooms with their rolled up mats, she realised they did Pilates classes, which she swore she would never attend again.
The place consisted of three floors.
The ground was the studio area, the first floor the osteopath and physiotherapy clinics, and the top floor had massage rooms.
Taking the lift and smelling the lovely aroma of lemon and lavender, she went to the first floor.
As the door opened she did a double take.
‘Hello Bea,’ Mylo said, holding out his hand. ‘I’ll be treating you.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I’m Dr Kearney. I promise I won’t hurt as I don’t want you to hit me then run.’ He grinned. ‘Though I take it, with your leg, you can’t really run that far, can you?’
She was speechless.
‘Oh,’ was all she could mutter.
‘Follow me.’
And she did.
Trying not to limp.
He looked over his shoulder and grimaced on her behalf before holding open the door to a room.
‘Come in and make yourself comfortable.’
Bea walked in and saw the large table then gulped really hard.
‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ he smiled, then gently took her hand, leading her in.
He asked her a lot of questions and she answered honestly.
All the time she looked around the room and noticed the pictures of people. Mylo was always smiling and looked on dotingly at a little boy who seemed similar to him in a few photographs.
There was no wedding ring so it could be his son or nephew.
Or he was married and didn’t like jewellery which didn’t make sense as he had ear-rings. Bea decided not to ponder too hard while trying to be helpful about her ailment.
‘Cross trainer?’ Mylo asked, nodding and typing something into his computer. ‘Laughing?’
‘Yes,’ she replied and watched him grin.
‘And the Pilates made it worse, Bea?’
‘Yes.’
‘Were you doing the exercises correctly?’
Bea looked at him before squinting.
‘Dr Kearney, I was doing what she told me. But when she said to rest your bottom on the round foam support, I didn’t realise that a spasm would go through my leg.’
‘And you didn’t tell her you were injured?’
‘I thought it was a pulled muscle.’
‘In you backside?’ he smiled, tilting his head to one side. ‘You had no idea it was sciatica?’
‘Look, Dr Hobbs has probably filled you in about my reluctance to get it sorted. It goes away and comes back, has done for many years. That’s what happens. He also implied it was mental but he would say that, anything to get me certified as mad.’ Bea glanced around the luxurious room. ‘And I hate pain.’
‘But you’re walking around in terrible pain at the moment, aren’t you?’ He stood up. ‘Let’s take a look.’
‘Dr Kearney, I really don’t like being physically tampered with,’ Bea replied, getting scared.
‘Really?’
‘You know what I mean,’ she said, noticing the glint in his eye. ‘It’s just that I have an extremely low threshold regarding pain.’
‘Not to worry, Bea. I’m very good with my hands,’ he smirked. ‘Now kick off your shoes before I get you on your back so I can get a look at what’s really going on.’
There was no answer to that.
‘Keep still.’
He had his hand on her head and was examining her posture as she stood facing the window.
Bea glanced around the room with the dim lighting, all the time aware that he was gently prodding her spine and touching her body.
‘Shitting hell!’ she shouted when he poked at her left buttock.
The action made her bolt forwards.
‘I see,’ he said, writing something down. ‘That’s very tight. Did it hurt?’
‘Just a bit.’ Bea bit her bottom lip. ‘Sorry.’
‘What for?’
‘Swearing.’
‘That’s not swearing,’ he laughed, standing in front of her. ‘You should hear what some of my other patients say when I start manipulating them with my bare hands.’
Automatically Bea winced at the comment.
‘I’m only getting over the last massage I had when she put her elbows into my shoulder blades. I silently wept because I couldn’t tell her I was hurting.’
‘Oh,’ he replied, pulling a sad face. ‘Well, I won’t hurt you. That’s not what I do. I have a functioning and holistic approach to the body’s well-being. But you need some work, that’s for sure and there might be some discomfort.’
Mylo walked towards his desk, typed something before he glanced up.
‘You can lie on the bed now,’ he said and smiled. ‘You do have sciatica and I can treat it. I recommend you have a session of six treatments.’
‘That’s good because I’ve only got payment for six on my health insurance,’ she said, feeling relieved. ‘And on my salary and your prices, I can’t afford more.’
Lying down on the bed, she waited.
‘What is it you do?’ he asked, coming into her vision and putting a pillow under her knees.
‘I work with children who are having problems adjusting into the school system.’
‘Troublemakers?’
‘Not at all. I am a mediator between them and school, their parents, their crushes and most of all, them.’
‘Are you a teacher?’ he smiled, checking her neck.
She noticed he had a very gentle touch.
‘Me? Not at all. I think teenagers are interesting. The change from child to adult is really difficult and quite scary. Some of the kids are having troubles outside of school and then they let rip when they come in. It’s a balance, I suppose, of trying to show them that an adult is listening.’ Bea noticed he was at her feet now, pulling off her socks and examining. ‘I don’t like people touching me there.’
‘I’m making sure I have a better idea of your body and positioning.’
She looked at him, looking at her legs.
Mylo Kearney was very handsome. Even when he was testing her legs for reflexes, his smouldering good looks seemed more enhanced.
It was a little turn on for Bea who then decided to knock it on the head.
Very much like he was knocking her knee caps, to see if she had a reflex there.
Then a wave of sadness came over her when she thought about her mum.
Closing her eyes, she let Mylo get on with what he was doing as she lay there in silence, knowing the pain going through her body was nothing compared to what was happening in her heart.
That was completely unbearable.
‘You can walk?’
Mylo was following Bea out of the building after the first session. ‘Your limp doesn’t look as bad and luckily it’s not a spinal problem. Like I said, you have an extreme arch in the base of your spine, hence the nerve is trapped.’
‘That’s why I have a sticky out bum as my mummy would say. Is it because I have a large buttock muscle?’
‘The size of your derriere makes no difference and personally, it looks perfect,’ he mumbled. ‘I hope I helped a little.’
Bea nodded.
The man did have good hands.
He had been exceptionally gentle with her and she felt a little odd lying on her back while he pummelled and pulled.
All she did was blush when he touched her then looked into her eyes.
‘Are you off home?’ Mylo asked. ‘Do you live far?’
‘Less than ten minutes away,’ she replied and grinned. ‘I live on the road next to the independent book shop.’
‘I’m twenty minutes the other way.’
She couldn’t stop blushing every time he smiled at her.
After she got over her little sad blip, she decided to engage in what was going on.
Bea felt like a stupid teenager, like the ones she knew well, as she spent most of her time with the difficult ones at school.
‘Do you fancy coming for a drink?’ he asked, nodding towards the bar they had been in on Friday. ‘I think I can do with one.’
‘Am I allowed to?’ she asked, double blinking.
‘What’s stopping you?’
‘You’re my doctor.’
‘I’m your osteopath. That’s not the same thing and there isn’t really a code of conduct I’m breaking. It’s just going for a drink.’ Then she noticed he blushed. ‘Unless you don’t want to.’
She nodded happily and he put his arm out so she could lean on him as they walked down the road.
In all that time, he kept looking at her, smiling.
They got a seat in the bar and he bought a bottle of wine. Pouring it out, Mylo smiled.
‘Cheers,’ he said as she clinked her glass against his.
‘Should I be drinking?’ Bea asked, sipping the wine and smiling. ‘I thought you said about having more water.’
‘This flavoured water is fine,’ he laughed in response. ‘Now tell me all about you.’
And she proceeded to relay about her job, what she did and where she grew up.
But Bea omitted to mention her mother or anything deeply personal, keeping it light and breezy. She noticed he was staring and smiling before looking at his glass.
Bea got the impression he was ticking something over.
‘And no hidden husband or boyfriend?’ he asked, flicking a glance.
‘Me? No! I got rid of my pain in the arse about twenty months ago,’ she replied, shrugging lightly.
‘You have the precise timing.’
‘Because something else happened around that time that won’t make me forget in a hurry.’ Taking a large sip of wine she forced a smile. ‘And you? Anything hidden in your closet?’ He double blinked and sipped his drink. ‘I’ve seen you around and you’re never short of company.’
‘I’m pretty open about things,’ he replied and looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Are you sure you’re single?’ Bea nodded solemnly. ‘I thought someone would have snapped you up.’
‘I’m still for the taking. Aged thirty four and counting down until it happens.’ Then her smile slipped. ‘I’m not banking on it.’
‘You’re only a few years younger than me and I’ve not given up hope.’
‘I think a man like you doesn’t need to.’ She laughed, looking at his short neat stubble and messy dark hair. There was a curl to it and the whole package was very desirable. ‘And you’re a doctor to boot so you’re perfect in many ways.’
Mylo looked out of the window before glancing at her.
There was something about him that seemed quite serene but even when he wasn’t talking, Dr Mylo Kearney had an aura she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
He was handsome, that went without saying, but he was pretty. There was a sensitivity in how he spoke and the way he would listen intently as if trying to figure something out.
There was a small possibility that he could have been bored by her conversation.
If he was, he hid it well.
‘You need to have two sessions a week for the next six weeks,’ he said, suddenly turning, startling her out of the full on gaze. ‘Which means that you’ll want the latest appointment, I take it.’
‘Twelve sessions?’ she said, trying not to gulp too hard and seeing he flicked her a glance as if he knew she’d been staring at him. ‘That many. I thought it only took six.’
‘Your sciatica is pretty bad and I want to see what you look like when you’re not limping.’ Then he grinned. ‘And we can always go for a drink afterwards.’
‘Haven’t you got anything else to do?’ she asked, trying to hide the excitement of seeing him out of his workplace.
‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out with you, if you don’t mind?’
Bea didn’t mind at all.
‘Chloe, you’re not being helpful.’
The fifteen year old girl was sitting in the office with a large scowl. Bea stared at the pretty and very angry face. ‘Walking out of school for no reason isn’t acceptable.’
‘I hate school. That’s a reason,’ she said, putting on her street slang accent, which clashed with her posh tones. ‘So sue me!’
Burying her head in her hands Bea knew she had to call Chloe’s mother, the even more challenging version of the wayward teenager sitting in front of her.
They were in the old caretaker’s house that had been converted into a haven for the children who couldn’t cope with school, or their personal lives. There was never more than eight children in need of solace at one time. Bea realised it was hard for them to cope with the array of pupils when they had personal hardships and circumstances of their own.
The beauty of the old building, after carefully being refitted to make it a nice place to be, is that none of the other children from school could go to it.
Bea also got children from other schools to come and visit for half a day here and there, as the borough she worked for wanted to utilise the space.
In layman’s terms, get as much out of her and the other trained specialists as possible.
She noticed Wilma look at her through the window and smile when she saw Chloe, shaking her head.
Bea and Wilma were the main team but her colleague was also trained to spot physical abuse as she used to work in social services. The woman had an eye for things.
Wilma could also tell when Bea was getting down by some of the problems that were being faced by the children. The beauty of Wilma’s mature age, is that she was worldly wise, whereas Bea felt the emotional pull.
And the person who was taking up most of her time and had done since she started at the school, was giving her evil looks.
Bea tried not to smile at the challenging glare.
‘You don’t want to call her, do you?’ she heard Chloe ask before looking up. ‘I know she’s a right bitch.’
‘That’s your mother you’re talking about.’
‘I wish she was dead!’
The words hit hard in Bea’s chest as she tried to compose herself.
‘I remember saying the same thing in my head about my mum,’ she said, trying not to look upset. ‘And then when she did die, it simply broke my heart.’
‘Sorry Bea, I mean Miss Mayon,’ Chloe apologetically said. ‘Just my mum is a complete selfish cow and doesn’t care about anything else but herself.’
‘Chloe, you’re intelligent and I don’t want to see you wasting your life chasing unsuitable boys and not doing well at school. You have an amazing future and this is an important year for you, with your exams.’
‘I don’t want it,’ she replied, turning up her nose. ‘I hate it all, you see.’
Her mother’s new relationship had tipped Chloe over the edge.
She was a model student until her mother met this man, who was much younger, and then Chloe’s life changed completely.
Chloe, like Bea, was an only child so she felt the young girl’s pain and frustration.
And it was hard for school to know how to deal with Chloe because she had been expelled from her private school. The transition for the girl was very hard.
And Chloe’s mother was no help, not wanting to accept that her child was unhappy.
That’s what Bea hated about her job.
Having to speak to parents who simply couldn’t admit something was seriously wrong with their child.
‘I’m going to let you cool off and think about what you’ve done. You’re on repo
rt and will have to do detention for the next few weeks.’ Bea smiled seeing Chloe smirk. ‘And I’ll have to ring your mother to let her know.’
‘She doesn’t care about me.’
‘That’s not true,’ Bea replied, often thinking the same thing when she met Mrs Dewhurst. ‘She just has a different way of showing it, that’s all.’
Chloe’s mother was a successful artist and seemed to be engrossed in her work at all times. The woman took it upon herself to try and bring up Chloe in a bohemian manner. Her ex-husband, Chloe’s father, was more traditional.
Rachel Dewhurst was now hooked up with an up and coming artist, who seemed to be sucking all the attention away from Chloe.
And fool her, Rachel thought it was okay and Chloe could cope.
Far from it.
This incensed Bea but she was going to put it to the back of her mind and concentrate on something far more interesting.
Walking out of school, she headed to the clinic and started to smile.
Bea was on her third appointment which meant she had met Mylo twice already for drinks in over two weeks.
The man was very funny, full of stories and Bea had found out the following:
He had worked in Chicago as an osteopath and still had involvement in a business there.
Mylo was born in Dublin, hence the sexy Irish accent.
There was an older brother and his parents got divorced seven years ago.
His home was in the expensive part of town.
The practice he totally owned from all the money he earned in the States.
He didn’t work on a Fridays because he thought, with his job, he needed space to rethink and recharge.
In his role he looked at things physically and holistically (Bea didn’t have the foggiest idea what he meant but thought it sounded cool).
There was a relationship that lasted eighteen months in the States but they broke up and he moved out then returned back home after a year.
It finished nearly two years ago.
The last one Bea realised he was extremely cagey about.
And she didn’t want to push as he hadn’t done so with her, which she respected.
Taking a deep breath she headed for the clinic then stopped.
The Hari Krishna’s were coming down the road, beating the drums and singing very loudly. She looked at the Christmas lights going up and hoped she would get to the clinic before running into them.