Junk (13 page)

Chapter Twelve

Jasper sat at his workstation and stared down at the two books on the counter.
Discovering Statistics
, and
Geostatistics in Action
. Lewis had trusted him to bring them into work and return them to the sales trolley, and Jasper wanted to be worthy of that trust.

Only problem was, he could see from here that the trolley was half-full already. Brenda had been busy clearing out the medical section that morning to make way for new stock. Okay, there probably wouldn’t be anything there too tempting for him, but could he resist looking?

Jasper steeled himself and got to his feet. He could do this. His heart hammered like it was trying to punch a hole through his ribs, but he walked over to the trolley and dropped the two books onto the top shelf.

Definitely an eighty-five on Lewis’s scale. Felt like he was having forks stuck in his legs by malevolent dwarfs. The thought made Jasper smile, though, and that eased it down to an eighty. By the time he’d walked back to his desk, it was perhaps a seventy-five.

Hmm…interesting.

As the hours of his shift rolled past, Jasper had occasion to walk near the trolley several times, and each time his anxiety spiked, but when it fell again, he realised it dipped a little further back towards normal each time. Well, whatever normal was for an inveterate worrier like himself. He doubted he ever reached a perfect zero on the scale, although Lewis probably lived there. Permanently relaxed, like a cat stretched out in a patch of sunshine. What would that be like? He’d have to ask him.

At seven thirty, Jasper looked up to find a skinny girl standing at the counter. “Are these really just fifty pence each?” she asked, as if she couldn’t believe her luck.

Jasper noticed the small stack of books she’d selected, his two returned titles on the top of the pile. “That’s right. You’ve got yourself a bargain there.”

“It’s just what I needed. Thanks.”

Jasper rang up her purchase. She gave him a braces-riddled smile as she picked up the books. “I just checked on my phone, and these are going for a tenner each on Ebay. I’ll be able to pay my rent on time after all.”

That hadn’t been the idea. They were meant to be going to a student who wanted to read them. But as Jasper sat there and felt his anxiety drop, he had to admit, at least someone was getting some use out of the books. Keeping penniless students from being kicked out on the streets—that had to be a result.

Perhaps there were others who could make better use of his books than he was. After a quick glance around to check none of the other staff were likely to interrupt him, Jasper called up the browser and started searching.

“I want to try a visualisation exercise today,” Lewis said, settling himself cross-legged on Jasper’s veranda. It was their third week of working together, and as yet Jasper hadn’t managed to let go of anything other than those first two books, despite the regular homework assignments asking him to do that very thing. This, even after he’d admitted his discomfort level about them had gone down to about a twenty-five. Knowing what he now did about Jasper, twenty-five seemed to be pretty much the normal state of affairs when he wasn’t wound-up about anything specific.

Although Lewis rarely managed to convince a stubborn hoarder to let anything go in the first few weeks, it was frustrating when he could see just how much insight Jasper had already gained. He was a quick study, and Lewis was starting to win over the rational part of his mind. It was the emotional side he was still experiencing problems with, and it was also this part of Jasper that intrigued him the most. What lurked under that unassuming exterior? What parts of himself had Jasper locked away from the world, buried under a heap of books? He looked up and met those wary dark eyes.

“Visualisation?” Jasper asked. “What, like some kind of hypnotism thing?” He stood over Lewis—all six foot two of lean body—and Lewis really needed to concentrate on the whole therapy thing rather than that enticing bulge in Jasper’s jeans. He made an effort to pull himself back to the job in hand.

“Not hypnosis, exactly. I’m not going to go all Derren Brown on you, so you needn’t worry. You can think of it more like guided meditation if you like. It’s just a chance for you to relax and focus on your goals for the future.”

“Okay…” Some of the tension melted out of Jasper’s shoulders.

“Come on. Down here.” Lewis patted the sun-warmed boards in front of him and watched in amusement as Jasper folded up his long legs in awkward imitation of Lewis’s pose. “Just sit however you feel comfortable. You don’t need to copy me.”

“Oh. Okay. No, this is fine.”

“If you start getting a dead leg, I want you to move. I don’t want to be sued for giving you pins and needles.”

“I’d never sue you,” Jasper said, his lips quirking into a lopsided smile.

That smile tugged something deep inside Lewis. He yearned to reach out and take Jasper’s hand. But that was bound to be misinterpreted, and he was determined not to take advantage of someone so vulnerable. No. Stick to the therapy. A talking cure. That was safest. “Visualisation, then. This is an exercise to help you concentrate on what we’re aiming for here, so first I need you to close your eyes. That’s it, now take a deep breath. In…out…in….out…. And as your breathing slows, you feel yourself here in the garden, with the bees buzzing and the breeze stirring the air around you.”

Okay, so he hadn’t been strictly honest about the hypnotism thing. There was definitely an element of that involved in helping Jasper to relax, but this was therapy, not stage magic, and Jasper so urgently needed to unwind.

Lewis continued in the same soft monotone. “And as your eyelids grow heavy and you listen to my voice and feel the sunshine warming your skin, I want you to picture your house in the future, after we’ve finished all our sessions and you’ve moved things on to new homes. Everything is going to be just how you’ve always dreamed about it. The perfect house for you, and you’re about to walk me through it, proud to show me everything you’ve achieved. We’re going to start at the front gate, and you’re meeting me there. Now you’re going to take me to the front door and describe what you’re seeing on the way.”

The silence stretched out for what felt like minutes, but Lewis didn’t mind when he was sitting in the drowsy July sunshine, watching Jasper concentrate. With Jasper’s eyes closed, it was impossible not to notice how lusciously thick his eyelashes were, and how strong the lines of his face were in repose.

Eventually Lewis had to nudge. “You’re walking me down the front path, and I need you to tell me what you’re seeing.”

“Oh. Right. Of course. Sorry, I got lost in there.” Jasper’s body tensed again, and his left eye twitched.

Lewis instinctively reached out to take his hands. Damn. Hadn’t meant to do that. Still, Jasper’s breathing slowed again, so maybe this was just the way it needed to be. Some people relaxed best when in physical contact with someone else. Lewis worked on keeping his arms and hands supple and limber, so as not to transmit any of his misgivings to Jasper.

“That’s fine. Just talk me through what you’re seeing in your front garden now.”

“The garden? Oh, it’s nice. Erm, pretty. Lighter. I’ve pruned the trees, and the ground underneath them is covered in soft moss, with daffodils bobbing around in the breeze. It’s how it used to be. When I was little.”

“And the front of the house?” Lewis prompted when Jasper fell silent again.

“It looks good. The curtains are all open. The windows gleam. All those green stains are gone. You can see into the rooms. You can actually see inside.”

“You’re going to walk me up to the front door now. What colour is it?”

“Red,” Jasper said, decisively. “A rich, warm burgundy kind of red.”

“Sounds cheerful.” And worlds away from the scuffed and peeling navy it was at the moment. “How do you feel, waiting by the door to show me inside?”

“I’m… I’m nervous. But just a little. Happy nervous. Not like I was the first time you came inside. I think I must be… Yes, I’m excited.” Jasper’s words came in a breathless rush, like he couldn’t believe what he was feeling. “I’m going to open the door now. The lock turns easily, and the door opens all the way inside.”

“What can we see now? What furniture is inside your hallway?”

“A hat stand. Somewhere for you to put your coat, and the table by the door’s still there, but it’s just got a bowl on it for my keys and wallet. Nothing else. I’ve got one of those wire baskets on the back of the door to catch all the letters and junk mail. But I don’t get much of that anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

“I filled in a form and took it to the post office.” Jasper’s eyes sprang open. “I did that. I really did it. Last week. I meant to tell you when you got here, but I forgot.”

“That’s great.” So they were making some progress after all, at least in terms of stopping new paper coming into the house, anyway. “That’s a really good step to take. Now, I want you to tell me what you see on the floors and the walls.”

“The floor is polished marble. It really is, you know? It’s under there somewhere. Kind of cold, but there’s a colourful carpet to soften it. One of those Persian rugs, all warm colours and patterns.”

“And the walls?”

“Covered in books.”

“In books?”

Jasper smiled then. A cheeky little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It suited him. “Books. Everywhere. But they’re on shelves now. And I know where they all are. They’re all ones I’m looking forward to reading. Fiction. I’ve moved unread fiction down to the hallway.”

“Okay, so you’re starting to decide where you want things to end up. That’s great. What about the lounge? What’s it like in there?”

“There’s a sofa and a couple of armchairs. Brown leather. And the fireplace is working again. I’ve got logs burning in there. It’s cosy. Other than that…it’s bookshelves again. Floor to ceiling on every wall but the outside one. I’ve got the old books in here. Leather-bound ones. Looks really classy with all those rich colours and the gilt on the spines. You can smell them. That sweet, old-paper fragrance.” Jasper opened his eyes again and gave Lewis a fiercely defiant look. “I’m still going to need lots of books around me.”

“That’s fine. No one’s saying you shouldn’t have your favourite things around you. I like the idea of bookshelves. What kind are they? Built in or freestanding?” The more detail in which Jasper could picture this, the better he’d be motivated to work towards it. That was the theory, anyway. If Lewis were being brutally honest with himself, though, he was just enjoying listening to him talk. The way Jasper’s face lit up when he pictured his house in working order again—that was magical.

“The shelves are wooden. Built in. I must have hired a carpenter, because I don’t know how to do all that kind of thing. Can barely rewire a plug. Should have learned, really, but by the time I was old enough, Dad had died.”

Lewis’s heart melted at the plaintive tone in Jasper’s voice, but it was time to steer him away from negative thinking. “Okay, it’s fine to get help with the things we can’t manage ourselves yet. Carpenters need customers too. But tell me more about the room. When do you use it? What do you like to do in here?”

“I come in here every morning after breakfast to drink my coffee and read a book. I like to sit in the armchair by the window. There’s good light there. And in the evening… In the evening, I spend time in here with my…my…”

“Your friends?” Lewis prompted. Jasper needed a social life.

“With my boyfriend,” Jasper said, his eyes springing open. “With you.”

Lewis stared, his heart hammering wildly, as Jasper leaned forward and cupped his jaw. He should move. Back away. Laugh it off.

He should do something sensible and act like the therapist he was.

But he was flesh-and-blood too, and he wanted this. God, how he wanted it.

Lewis’s id told his superego to go take a long walk off a short pier.

Jasper’s lips touched his. Tentative. Soft and searching.

Lewis moaned and opened his lips to deepen the kiss.

Chapter Thirteen

The moment spun out in time, an eternity crystallised in the press of Jasper’s lips, the sweep of his tongue and the breathless sounds in his throat. Lewis wanted it to stay that way forever. Suspended in perfection, rather than crashing back into the everyday world.

The world where he had to find a way to let Jasper down without crushing his fragile confidence.

He drew back a little to catch his breath, letting it out in a shaky laugh. “Okay. I wasn’t expecting that.”

The tenderness in Jasper’s expression was going to break Lewis’s heart. “You knew. You must have. You seem to be able to read me like a book.”

“I knew you were attracted to me, but I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. It’s very common for clients to transfer erotic feelings onto their therapists.”

“That’s not what this is.”

But Lewis continued, steeling himself against the hurt visible in every line of Jasper’s face. He kept hold of Jasper’s hands, though, hoping that by rubbing them he’d help to mitigate some of the damage. “It can’t be helped sometimes. You’re going through a difficult process. Dredging up emotions and memories and needing someone to attach them to. We call it transference.”