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Grainne’s eyes opened wide and her jaw fell open in a soundless scream of horror
as a long-repressed memory struggled to emerge, to be recognized.  Her mouth worked for a moment or two as if she was trying to speak and then shut again with a snap of white teeth that made Kate jump.  Her body sagged in the chair and a strong, pungent smell filled the air as she suddenly wet herself, her silk pyjamas instantly turning black below the waist.  Then she slumped bonelessly back in her seat before sliding to the floor in a dead faint.

Kate knelt down beside her
and quickly took her pulse; the girl’s heart was beating with a frantic, hammering rhythm that Kate didn’t like at all, and her breathing was much too rapid and shallow.  She gently raised one eyelid with her thumb and saw that the eye had rolled back up into its socket, with only the blood-veined white showing.  Before she could take any further action the door opened and a female orderly rushed in and joined Kate on her knees on the floor, her speedy arrival surprising Kate until she remembered that the room was monitored on television cameras.

‘Is she all right?’ asked the orderly, a little breathlessly.

Kate nodded, ‘I think so.  She just fainted.’

‘I’ve alerted the duty nurse and she’s on her way up.  She’ll check her out thoroughly.  Er
, could you help me get her into bed, please?’

Grainne was
a dead weight and surprisingly heavy for one so small and slim, and the two women struggled but eventually managed to carry her into the next room and lift her onto the bed.  Then, out of breath and with her own heart thumping, Kate gathered her things and left the girl to the care of the duty nurse.  She made her way downstairs on slightly shaky legs to the reception desk and, after taking a deep breath to compose herself, asked Cathy, ‘Is Trevor finished with his patient yet?’

Cathy was rummaging through a filing cabinet and replied over her shoulder without turning, ‘Yep, he went into
his office a few minutes ago.  Actually, he left a message for you to pop in and see him before you left, if you have time.’

‘Thanks.’ Kate walked over and tapped on his door, waiting for him to reply before going inside.  He was seated behind his desk with a mountain of paper piled up in front of him and
when she entered he gave her a rueful grin, ‘Hi, Kate.  As you can see I’m up to my eyes so I’ve only a minute to spare, but I wanted to talk to you before you left.  Though I must say I wasn’t expecting you to be finished quite so soon.  Wouldn’t she talk to you today?’

‘No, not at all,’ said Kate, sitting down
and trying not to sound disheartened, ‘I wanted to talk to you too.  And I’m afraid it isn’t good news.  Grainne seems to have regressed badly since Tuesday.’

Trevor
nodded, apparently unconcerned, and Kate told him what had happened. When she had finished he pursed his lips and said, ‘Well, it’s not surprising she wouldn’t talk to you; that’s her default state.  Tuesday was a one-off; you know that in this game it’s often one step forward, two steps back.  Her fainting concerns me more.’

‘I know,
I suppose I just unconsciously expected her to be the same today as last time.  And in fact things may not be as bad as they look; she may have become distressed because her real memories are not just
starting
to return, but actually
have
returned.  At least in part.  They may be intruding on her consciousness, and since she blocked them out originally because she couldn’t cope with them, it’s unreasonable to expect her to be able to face them now.  Maybe I’m being over-optimistic but her collapse might just be a further sign of healing, a sign that her memory, and her real personality, really is returning.’

His frown didn’t ease as he replied, ‘Maybe, b
ut I’m afraid I stopped believing in Santa Claus a long time ago.  If the shock of those memories are as awful as you seem to think she might bury them again, deeper than ever.’

Kate nodded, ‘I know, I know.  And I know w
e have to go slowly and not try to rush her.  In fact I think you should consider increasing her medication a little, to prevent her having this kind of collapse again when the memories start pushing against the mental wall she’s built up.’  She gestured helplessly, ‘I know it’s just guesswork but I think a great deal of her problem is caused by guilt.  It was when I mentioned her dog biting her, bringing up the night her mother died, that she passed out.  We need to help her to deal with these memories rather than block them out.  That’s why I think it might be a good idea for you to increase her Valium, to help her face these…visions, or whatever they are.’

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a long, reflective look, ‘And if her
collapse
wasn’t
caused by repressed memories trying to emerge?’

It was
Kate’s turn to shrug, ‘Then we’re back to square one.  But do you really think increasing her medication is going to do her any harm?  Long
or
short term?’

‘Perhaps not. But if I was as enamoured of drug
s therapy as some psychiatrists you probably wouldn’t be here at all.’

Kate took a deep b
reath to and replied evenly, ‘This isn’t just a
whim,
you know.  You asked me to take this case not just because of my qualifications but because of my empathy with my patients.  My intuition, if you like.  And my strong feeling is that all Grainne’s problems, right from the beginning, stem from her battling with memories she cannot cope with.  Specifically,
guilty
memories regarding her mother’s death.  And in spite of all her efforts to block them out, and today’s setback, I
still
think they’re returning.’

Their eyes remained locked on each other’s for some time, until at last Trevor lowered his gaze.  ‘Okay
, I’ll consider increasing her medication.  As you say, it can’t do any harm.’  He gave her a tiny smile, not untinged by regret, ‘I’m not convinced you’re right but perhaps my own intuition has been blunted by dealing with all this damned paperwork every day.  It never ends.  When the chance to become Director here came up I jumped at it without stopping to wonder if it was really what I wanted.  And I have to say I’ve had a few second thoughts since.  I don’t have the time to deal with as many patients as I’d like, and even those I do see sometimes get less than my full attention.  Running this place consists of dealing with one problem after another, none of them very important but each one time consuming.’

Bemoaning his lot had never been one of Trevor’s vices and he suddenly grinned, ‘Mind you, the money’s good.  And my title impresses the girls no end.’

Kate had to smile. ‘And let’s face it, in that area you need all the help you can get!  Would you give it up if you got the chance?’

He shrugged, ‘I suppose
I have that choice every day.  In theory, at least.  But it’s hard to go back to being an Indian when you’ve been a chief.  Trevor Jordan’s first law of human nature.  That was part of Archie’s lecture, remember?  Use of power becomes first addictive, then compulsive.’

‘Then
corruptive,’
finished Kate with a grin, ‘Human frailty means use of power invariably leads to
abuse,
remember?  Think of that next time you’re trying to lure one of your female employees out for a night of debauchery.’

‘I wish.  I can’t remember the last time I had a good debauch.’  He leered at her
happily, ‘Or even a bauch.’  He went quiet for a moment, his smile fading, and then said, ‘There was something else, Kate.  The reason I wanted to see you before you went.  I was talking to Peter last night.  He didn’t go into details but I heard the gist of what happened between you two yesterday.’

Kate took a deep breath and steeled herself for what was coming; friend or no, if he presumed to lect
ure her on her personal life she was prepared to tell him where to get off in no uncertain terms.

As usual, he m
anaged to surprise her, and took the wind totally out of her sails by saying, ‘I don’t want to interfere but I thought you might want to know the reason Peter’s in Ireland at the moment.  It’s nothing to do with you.  His mother died on Tuesday, Kate.  He came home for the funeral.’

Kate hadn’t known she was holding her breath, and only
realized it when she suddenly let it out in a sharp gust.  ‘Oh
no. 
Poor Peter!  He never said a word.  No wonder he seemed so fragile.’  Guilt clawed at her heart and she added, with her eyes closed, ‘And I was such a
bitch
to him.’

She shot Trevor a g
uilty look, ‘Why didn’t he
tell
me?’

Trevor shrugged,
his face impassive, ‘I suppose he didn’t want you to think he was looking for sympathy.’

She shot him such a scornful look that he laughed and
held up his hands protectively, ‘Hey, don’t blame me!  You know what he’s like.  He’d rather crawl across broken glass than have you think he was using something like that to...’

His voice trailed off uncomfortably and Kate replied fiercely, ‘I
wouldn’t
have!  I
know
him, Trev, and I know he wouldn’t use something like that to worm his way back into my life.  Bloody
men! 
You’re all the same; big babies at heart, but you all have this, “Oh I don’t need any help handling this” attitude!  Why can’t you just say;
I need
some sympathy, I need some help, some comfort?
’

He shrugge
d again, ‘Don’t ask me, I’m not like that.  No man is an island, and so forth.  Trust me, when I’m in trouble I look for all the sympathy I can get.  But Peter’s family are a pretty macho lot, and he was raised to believe that men are the problem solvers of the world.  So he deals with his problems on his own, and in his own way.’

Kate shifted uncomfortably; she was only too aware of this side of Peter’s personality.  In fact,
looking back it was one of the things she had found attractive about him; being in a relationship with him wasn’t emotionally demanding.  Not until he decided it was time they got married, that is.  But he had never been needy.  And what did that say about
her? 
That she wanted a relationship where she could take, and not give?  That she was too self-absorbed to want to share the burdens of someone she was supposed to love?  And it crossed her mind;
Peter had
a
luck
y
escape.

‘It isn’t that uncommon,’ said Trevor gently, reading her mind with a perception that belied his earlier comments about losing his intuition, ‘With your background it isn’t unusual that you should have trouble ever fully loving and committing to someone.  Ever fully trusting them.  You direct your warmth, y
our giving side, somewhere safe; toward your patients rather than your partner.  It makes you a good counsellor but a bad lover.’

‘And good old I’ll-muddle-through-it-alone Peter was my ideal mate, is that it?’ she finished, with
a biting sarcasm she didn’t feel; she knew it was the truth.

He ignored the sarcasm and nodded, ‘
Of course.  You’re a special person, Kate, but you’re still a human being.  And you react to trauma in much the same way as everyone else.  I’d even go so far as to say you’re a typical example of an abused child, with absolutely typical emotional retardation.’

She was shocked into silence.  This was a sacred, taboo subject that no one who wanted to remain in her life ev
er mentioned.  Not twice, anyway.  What her father had done with her
-to
her, the rational part of her mind quickly amended- was never to be spoken about. 
Or dealt with?
that cold little voice asked.  But she ignored it, as so often before; she dealt with things her own way.

‘That wa
s the real reason we split up, all those years ago,’ he continued remorselessly, ‘You couldn’t deal with me trying to get inside your heart and mind, and trying to draw you inside
me.
  So you ran away.’

‘So why aren’t I a lesbian?’ she sneered, n
ot wanting to listen even though her head knew all this already, though her heart had never accepted it, ‘Or a nun?’

His eyes were kind but his voice was firm as he replied, ‘You know damned well your problem is with commitment,
with intimacy, not sex.  And part of you wants,
needs
to give yourself totally to a man, which is why you keep looking.  And then running away when you think you’ve found him.  I really don’t think I need to tell a psycho-dynamist like you anything about the nature of conflict, do I?  And there are darker elements at work in your mind, in your heart.  Not just guilt, you’re confused about your mixed feelings at...’

‘We were discussing Peter, and his mother’s death,’ she interrupted coldly. 
Glacially. 
And with finality.

Trevor sighed
and held up his hands in surrender, ‘You’re my friend and I love you dearly.  I just wish you’d analyze yourself the same way you do your patients.’

‘It must be doubly difficult for him,’ she continued, as i
f he hadn’t spoken, ‘Especially with his father dying only last year.  When’s the funeral?’