Silent Treatment Read online

  ‘Then we have made progress,’ said John, matching Helen's serious tone.

  Sarah had felt the same, she was just surprised that the others had felt that way.

  'Was there anything else that you observed Helen?' asked Sarah.

  Helen looked at her notes and said 'Only that Emily seemed to be glaring at Nathan at several points.'

  Sarah had been too preoccupied to notice this.

  'Maybe she was trying to calm him down,' said Sarah.

  Helen thought for a moment before saying 'It looked more of an annoyed look. I've not seen her look like that before.'

  Early on Sarah had judged that the group dynamic was obvious. Nathan was the dominant one, Emily was more submissive and the twins seemed to neither notice or care what the other two were up to.

  'Maybe we need to re-examine the group's interaction. We could have been making the wrong assumptions. In the next session I'd like you to closely observe Emily's actions and reactions.'

  'What happened at the end then?' said John.

  Helen looked up from her notes at Sarah, which didn't help as they were both now looking directly at Sarah.

  'Something spooked them,' said John.

  'Any ideas?' said Sarah.

  'Was it something we said?' said John.

  Helen returned to her notes.

  'Anything useful?' asked Sarah.

  'It's all pretty innocuous,' said Helen thumbing through her notes. 'Mind you, I think John upset Nathan at one point.'

  'I was just trying to act like a father. I thought that was what you wanted.'

  'I did. But did it need to be one from the Victorian era!' replied Sarah.

  'I thought you wanted to get some reaction from them, break them out of the usual pattern I think you said.'

  'It certainly achieved that,' said Helen.

  Helen began to say tentatively 'I think it was the moment when the orderlies came in.'

  'But they see them every day don't they? They should be used to them by now,' said John.

  Helen returned to her notes. Sarah wondered exactly what Helen had written down.

  No one spoke for a few moments.

  Eventually Helen said 'The only thing that I could see that was different was that they were wearing their white lab coats. Which they don’t usually do.'

  'Bit of an extreme reaction,' said John.

  'Well, if you have a better explanation?', said Helen.

  No one spoke.

  'Maybe it is something to keep an eye on for the future,' said Sarah.

  Sarah decided to end the meeting there and then and stood up. Helen carefully gathered all her notes up and left the room with John.

  The afternoon was more routine and involved copious paperwork, but eventually Sarah looked up at the clock and knew that it was time.

  She stood up, trying to look casual. But as she did both John and Helen looked up at her. They had become as used to her routine as she had.

  She turned away, pretending to have not seen them looking towards her. She headed out through the door and to the place where she would pick up the journals. As she walked the short distance, she wondered what exactly the children would have written.

  Hi Sarah,

  We know what you were trying to do and we do appreciate it. It was nice to sit down like that, sort of like a family aren't we!

  Don't think we like the man much though, I'd want a different dad next time.

  Don't worry about Nathan, he gets like that sometimes. You didn’t do anything wrong.

  If you knew him better you would understand.

  Sorry about the end though, thanks for comforting me, I needed that.

  Don't give up on us!

  Emily xxx

  Short and sweet, thought Sarah as she sat at home reading the journals.

  Sort of like a family aren't we.

  Sarah was intrigued by Emily’s turn of phrase, and she had to admit that she did feel some sort of bond developing; it had begun to feel like they were interacting like some form of family unit. And Sarah felt comfortable with this; it was what she had wanted to create.

  But nothing from Nathan. Sarah wondered if he was still mad at John. Sarah felt partly responsible as she hadn't actually instructed John how to fulfil his role. Despite what had happened she still felt that the children were getting closer to opening up to her. And she felt a lot closer to Emily, she had almost spoken to Sarah, she was sure of it.

  And then she had a thought that maybe it could be to her advantage if there was a wedge driven between Emily and Nathan; if Nathan was exerting some sort of control over the others then if she could somehow get Emily to trust Sarah more than Nathan, then it would be easier to get Emily to talk, away from Nathan’s influence.

  Chapter Thirteen

  'It was weird, can't think of any other way to describe it. I know that I should be using some more technical language to describe it. What with my new identity and all that. But all I can say is that the whole thing was frankly, well, just weird.'

  John was beginning to regret his lack of vocabulary. If the voice on the other end of the phone had tired of the word “weird” then they didn't display it.

  'She was trying to create a mock family atmosphere I think. And I got to play the father.'

  John had never heard the person on the other end laugh before.

  'I mean, Nathan is always slightly on edge; you get used to it. But I really thought he was going to swing for me.'

  'And then, well it all went even more strange. The children started panicking….Sarah seemed to think they were spooked by a white coat or something! Sounds a bit odd really.'

  The tone of the voice changed subtly.

  'No, she doesn't let either of us see them. I've been trying to get nearer to her. But I am beginning to wonder if my adopted persona might be a hindrance. She doesn't take me seriously. And I know that was the idea and that it means she is less defensive around me.'

  John was beginning to feel pressure now. But he usually thrived on it. It just made him more inventive.

  'I have one or two ideas how I can get my hands on them...Yes I understand that I must make some progress soon.'

  He hung up the phone, sat down and tried to think of ideas to get to see what was in the children's journals.

  'I mean, I actually think it went pretty well. It certainly had the effect of taking the children out of their comfort zone, which I think is a good thing isn't it?' said Helen.

  The voice on the end of the phone remained calm and she listened for a few moments before she responded.

  'Then at the end the children reacted badly...well, a white coated orderly I think...I know.'

  Helen felt relieved that she had plenty to talk about. Then the tone in the voice changed slightly.

  'I still haven't been able to manage that yet. I'm not sure she trusts me that much anyway...I could certainly try.'

  Helen could feel the pressure rising within her.

  'She keeps them to herself all the time. As you say, if I could try to get her to trust me more, then maybe she would take me into her confidence.'

  Helen nodded, she knew what she must do. She just didn't have any idea how to do it yet.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sarah woke from a shallow and indistinct dream. The memory of exactly what she had been dreaming about vanished almost as soon as she opened her eyes. But as she opened her eyes she had a fleeting image of the door with its darkly studded panels and large round door handle. And it appeared to be slightly open.

  She shook her head to clear the image and she pulled the covers tightly over her head and felt slightly safer.

  The alarm sounded and she thrust out her hand to switch it off. Only just controlling the urge to throw it across the room.

  As she crawled out of bed she looked down at the floor to see her slippers strewn across the floor. She hadn’t remembered leaving them in such a mess when she went to bed and she surmised that she must have got up in the night a
gain; so maybe she hadn’t slept as well as she had thought after all.

  The uneasy feeling remained as she got up, but her routines began nonetheless.

  Medication. Shower. Breakfast. Outside world.

  She put on the television news to eat her breakfast with and immediately regretted it.

  Her hope that the media had begun to lose interest in the children was dashed as the scrolling news contained at least three references to them and that damned day by day counter appeared in the screen...112 days since the children appeared. It may as well have said 112 days of failure Sarah.

  What she really needed was some big news story to happen; something to take away the focus from the children, so she could get on with her work in peace.

  A war would do. Didn't need to be a big one. She wasn't fussy.

  But no, the world seemed to be going through a period of relative peace.

  She leaned forward, put her head in her hands and let out a groan. She shouldn't be thinking like this.

  But each day she was finding it harder to go into the institute. She hauled herself upright, grabbed her bag and launched herself towards the door before she changed her mind.

  The approach to the institute confirmed that there had been no let up in the media interest. The lorries and vans seemed to have an air of permanence about them now. She braced herself, instinctively sinking as low down in her car as she could and still manage to drive the car.

  The interest in her was as ever brief, a camera thrust in her direction, a microphone pointed towards her and hastily withdrawn when they realised she wasn't that important.

  She hardly looked in their direction anymore. She didn't look at the person on the other end of the camera or microphone.

  She was approaching the end of the press cordon and it had all started to thin out, when she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She almost hit the brakes, but realised it might not be a good idea in the full glare of the world’s media.

  What had caught her eye was someone's coat. It wasn't something that she would ordinarily notice. But it was a distinctive blue with bright green flashes on it. It was hideous but it was strangely familiar. She couldn't see the wearer closely enough, but as she passed through the gates she was sure that it could only belong to one person. Her mind was momentarily transported far away from the institute and the children to a simpler time.

  Sarah returned her view to the road ahead just in time as the gatepost of the institute was approaching quickly. She swerved to avoid it. Crashing was the last thing she wanted to do with so many cameras and reporters around.

  The sight of the jacket had left her still feeling slightly out of sorts as she made her way to her desk.

  She took the journals out of her bag in readiness to return them to the children, locked them in her draw, and sat down.

  'Everything okay?'

  Sarah physically jumped and not in a slight way, she could feel herself settle back in the chair as if she had just landed.

  Helen looked slightly taken aback by the reaction.

  'Fine, fine,' said Sarah unconvincingly.

  Helen was actually smiling at Sarah as she said 'Are we making any progress with the journals?'

  'Nothing much to report yet,' said Sarah honestly.

  Helen maintained her smile, which slightly unnerved Sarah as she hadn't seen it used much before.

  'I bet you are getting some pressure to get results aren't you Sarah. It can't be easy, because it takes time doesn’t it.'

  Sarah looked at Helen, unused to the note of concern.

  'It's not a problem. Part of the job really, nothing to worry about.'

  Helen held her gaze for a fraction of a second longer than was entirely comfortable before she said 'Well if you need any help with anything, you know where I am,' and the smile broadened.

  'I'll bear that in mind thanks,' replied Sarah.

  As Helen disappeared across the office, Sarah wondered why she was being so protective of the treatment of the children. She realised that she was actually taking it all upon her own shoulders and she wasn't letting anybody assist her. Perhaps she should take John and Helen into her confidences more. They had offered to help and she could do with sharing the burden.

  The computer was nagging her again, it seemed to do everything but wag its finger at her. The emails were piling up, so she decided to endeavour to at least sift out the important ones. After almost wearing out the delete key for a few minutes – where did these spam merchants get her email address from? – she alighted on an email from the director.

  Just wondered if we could have a catch up sometime?

  It wasn't meant as a request – there was only one correct answer. She sighed slightly before replying that this morning would be okay. She sent it without much enthusiasm.

  And then that damn coat popped into her mind again.

  Deep down she knew what the director would be asking for. As her hand moved towards the drawer containing the children’s journals, she hesitated. It wasn’t as if she had intended to keep them to herself forever. She had just hoped that she would complete the treatment before anyone else saw them. In a strange way she had come to view them as a private conversation between herself and the children. When one end of the conversation doesn’t actually speak it was as close as she was going to get.

  She forced her hand to unlock the draw and take the journals out, placing them on her desk. She needed to remind herself that she was a trained psychologist, she had to maintain a professional distance from the children.

  She busied herself with more administration. Unnervingly each time she looked up Helen or John seemed to be looking in her direction. It must have been coincidence of course, but she was beginning to feel almost paranoid. It was almost with relief that she stood up and walked out of the room for the meeting with the director.

  The director waited patiently for Sarah to arrive. If Sarah had felt apprehensive about the meeting, then the feeling was shared by the director. Up until now he had allowed her some latitude in her treatment of the children, but he knew that was drawing to a close. As he heard the knock at the door, he instinctively sat upright in his chair and took a deep breath.

  ‘Come in,’ he said.

  He watched as Sarah came in through the door. He was immediately relieved that she was clutching what he assumed were the journals. At least he wouldn’t have to come up with ways of making her give them to him.

  ‘Please, sit down’ he said in as relaxed a manner as he could manage. ‘How are things?’

  Sarah shuffled in her chair, still clutching the journals. She didn’t want to put them down on the desk, it would feel like losing control of them, so she sat there with them on her lap.

  ‘Things are going fine,’ she said.

  There then followed a short period of silence, before the director said in a casual tone, as if he was talking about something mundane, ‘I see you brought the journals.’ He waited for Sarah to react, but she just sat there. ‘Could I have a look at them?’ they both knew it wasn’t a request, but he was trying to maintain the illusion that it was so as not to offend her.

  Sarah had tried to prepare for this moment, but as it had arrived she realised it had been a waste of time. She had never explicitly told the children that she would be the only one looking at them, but she felt that they had somehow understood that she would be. And now as she clutched the journals ever tighter, she felt as if she was betraying the children somehow. It felt as if she was being asked to hand over someone’s personal diary to someone else.

  The director waited patiently. He was about to ask again, but Sarah managed to force her reluctant hands to extricate them from her lap and hand them slowly over to the director.

  He took them from her hurriedly as if he was afraid she would change her mind.

  ‘Thank you Sarah,’ he said. He could have added that he knew how hard it had been for her, but as they looked at each other they both knew it didn't need to
be said out loud.

  He put them immediately into his desk. ‘I’ll get them back to you later on today if that is alright?’

  Again, Sarah knew she had no choice in the matter, but she appreciated the pretence. ‘I like to get them back to the children as soon as possible.’

  The director looked across at Sarah. Her eyes were downcast and whenever she looked up to talk to the director her expression seemed nervous and almost jumpy. And her appearance was almost dishevelled.

  ‘Everything alright Sarah?’

  Her head jolted up and she said hurriedly ‘The children are fine.’

  ‘No Sarah, we know they are safe, but I meant how are you?’

  It was something that Sarah hadn’t really considered for a while, her attentions had been solely on the children. She realised just saying ‘fine’ wouldn’t be enough for the director.

  ‘I’ve not been sleeping too well.’

  The director nodded and said ‘And the tablets don’t help?’

  ‘Not really,’ she said.

  The director leant forward and said ‘We may be able to help with that then,’ and he began to scribble out a prescription for her. He tore it off and said ‘You can get this made up here at our pharmacy. It’ll help with the sleeping.’

  Sarah held her hand out and took the prescription. She couldn’t look the director in the eye and she looked past him at the bookshelf behind him.

  The director noticed her looking past him and turned around and looked at the bookcase.

  ‘You still play Sarah?’ he said.

  Sarah was confused and was forced to look directly at him again.

  ‘The books, I noticed you looking at them.’

  Sarah could hardly say that she found it difficult looking at him, so she had to play along as the director took the chess book down from the shelf and offered it to Sarah.

  ‘You can borrow it if you like, I don’t use it much anymore. Not like the old days hey Sarah? Your father never did forgive you for beating him that time.’