The Right Treatment (14 page)

“I was sent to boarding school when I was seven. I only came home for school holidays. Most of the time my parents weren’t even there. It didn’t seem to matter what I did. If I was the perfect student with all A grades, nobody noticed I existed. They forgot about me, and left me at school over weekends and midterm. I only came home for major holidays like Christmas and summer break. When I kicked off, I got suspended or expelled. That way I got sent home and usually one or other of my parents would turn up to tell me how much I had embarrassed and inconvenienced them. At least that way I got to see them.”

“Jesus, that must have been tough. But why the Ecstasy? Surely you knew the risks?”

“In theory I did, but I knew tons of people taking it, and no one ever had a problem. It made me feel good. And it wasn’t just Ecstasy either. It was LSD, mushrooms, coke, whatever I could get on a particular night. I just wanted my brain to stop. And the worst thing was. To the world I had it all. I had a load of money coming in every week as an allowance. I didn’t even need to work to pay for my fun.”

Louise was matter of fact about it all. Matt wondered if she had taken so much pain on board that she no longer felt it, or if she had just become so used to hiding it, she couldn’t allow it to surface.

“Where will you go when you leave here? You’re going to need help for a while.”

“I’m booked into the most expensive nursing home in all of London, of course. Nothing but the best for me,” Louise said bitterly. Matt was raging on her behalf. It was outside his control, obviously he couldn’t invite a complete stranger into his home and try to make up for his last failure, but he could at least try and talk to her parents, to at least impress upon them just how serious her condition was.

Something about Louise reminded him why he had wanted to be a doctor. He also remembered that once he had believed that many physical ailments were an embodiment of past hurts and traumas. That he had once had a much more holistic approach to medicine. That he had once cared. And that was exactly what Aoife had been trying to tell him. Too bad it took him so long to see it. He tried contacting Aoife but her cell-phone number was no longer in use. Stupidly, he never did get her forwarding address as his pig-headedness had prevented him from talking to her. It seemed he had got his just deserts. He could, of course, just eat his pride and ask either Paul or Fiona for her number, but he was afraid they might refuse. That was what he deserved. Matt signed up to spend his next vacation period with Medicines Sans Frontiers. He hadn’t volunteered with them for a while and he figured it would do him good to remember what medicine was all about.

* * *

The next few months seemed to crawl as he lived through them: nothing but the mundane drudgery of work, home, work, sleep. Matt didn’t go out at all. He had no desire to make small talk with anyone, least of all women who seemed only to be interested in his money or social status.

Matt couldn’t even manage to organise the necessary funding for his trip. The motivation just wasn’t there. Normally he organised some sort of social event, but his heart wasn’t in it. He would have to take the required funding from his savings. That was his plan until Paul Smith stepped in. Seeing the lack of drive in Matt, Paul got his wife on the case. Nobody could organise an event like she could and she made it her mission to hold the most successful dinner dance in the history of the hospital.

When the day of the dance came round, socialising was the last thing on Matt’s mind. Louise was back in the hospital. Her body had rejected her new kidneys. Matt was gutted. And she was refusing to go back on the transplant list. Nothing he or Paul said seemed to convince her she had a life worth fighting for, or that she had a future other than constant dialysis. He just about managed to get himself to the function and once there he propped himself up at the bar.

He was downing his third pint when he spotted Fiona and Pete. They were making their way toward him at the bar. Matt peeled his eyes on them and it wasn’t long before he spotted Aoife. She looked like a million dollars, dressed in a pale blue shift dress. She also looked like she wanted to run away, the proverbial rabbit in the headlights. He recognized the look because he felt it with every fibre of his being. He would have sold his soul to the devil to be anywhere else. And yet, he equally would have sold that same soul to have her by his side.

“Hey, how are you?” she asked when she got to him. A seemingly innocuous question. But why did his heart palpitate so? And why did she look so ill at ease?

“I’m good, Aoife. And you?”

“Good, thanks. So, rumour has it you’re off to Africa?”

“Yeah, next month! It’s been a while.” He wanted to reach out and touch her, to check she was real. There was an awkward silence as he searched his brain for a safe thing to say. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her, but he was scared.

“So, what will you do out there?” Aoife asked, cutting through the iceberg between them.

“Who knows? Whatever is needed. You look really well.”

“I am well, mostly thanks to you. You look like shit though. Seriously, Matt. When did you last sleep a full night?”

Somehow, he found himself offloading everything about Louise. When he was done, he felt a lot lighter. Aoife smiled, and touched him briefly on the arm. Her hands were as soft as he remembered, and her touch felt good.

“It’s lovely to see that side of you again, Matt. I was afraid it was gone. Maybe you will get through to her in the end.”

She left him after that, not angrily or defensively, Matt thought. It was more organic than that, like she was at ease with him, finally. He watched her work the room. He could see she wasn’t that comfortable but was purposeful. Aoife spent a few minutes with everyone she knew, always returning to Fiona and Pete. Finally, he saw her approach Paul. For the first time all night, he was envious; the smile on her face was real, not practiced. Paul greeted her with a kiss, not the normal greeting between psychiatrist and patient. And Paul’s wife obviously knew her pretty well from the welcome she had. To add insult to injury, Aoife lit up at meeting them. So different from her cautious greeting to him, one of her oldest friends. He couldn’t help but approach them. He wanted to be part of that cosy little group. The green-eyed monster was back on his shoulder. He saw Aoife clam up and stiffen as he joined the group.

“How is the man of the hour?” Martha, Paul’s wife asked him.

“Amazed at how many turned up,” Matt replied.

“People are always willing to support a good cause. Isn’t that right, Aoife?” Martha replied.

“What? Oh, sorry, yes. Of course they are. It makes people appreciate what they have when they see those needier,” Aoife agreed. Her eyes were searching the room. Matt knew she was trying to find an escape.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked before she found a target. She flinched momentarily and it felt like a physical blow. “Please, I promise not to bite,” he said, holding out his hand. He left it so it was almost impossible for her to refuse.

His timing could not have been better: just as they walked out on the floor, a nice slow song came on. A real oldie. Brian McKnight and Kenny G’s cover of ‘Careless Whisper.’ It was a throwback to 2004, when they almost were. Aoife gave him a shy grin in recognition of the coincidence and the shared history. He pulled her in tight. She smelled so damn good; her shampoo, her perfume, and her natural essence filled his senses and for a moment, he was back in the apartment, in her bed, holding her. They both started to speak together.

“I’m really sor…”

“So when are you…?”

Both went silent, politely allowing the other to finish.

“You first,” Matt said when the silence went on a little too long to be comfortable.

“It wasn’t important. I just wondered when you were off,” Aoife said.

“Tomorrow week,” he replied. He savoured the feeling of her lithe body against his. Her muscle tone was great; she was obviously keeping up the workouts. He stopped talking, and just gave in to the luxury of having her in his arms.

“What were you going to say?” Aoife finally asked.

“Just how happy I am to see you. I’ve really missed you. I’m sorry if I let you down, I didn’t understand.”

“Let’s get one thing clear, you didn’t let me down. You helped me, and in a way no one else could. I was stupid. I wanted it to mean more. I wanted you to be something else. I confused what you were doing for me with the friendship we once had. And then I was angry, and ran out. If anything, I was the one in the wrong.”

“But it did mean more. I just didn’t know how to show it. You were right: I had become a self-righteous, judgmental prick.”

“I don’t think they were quite my words, but the sentiment is about right,” Aoife said with a small laugh. She pulled away a little, her body language becoming defensive, but Matt just moved in closer again. “I was way out of order. My pride was hurt because you didn’t feel about me the way I wanted you to and I wanted to hurt you back. I’m very sorry. Let’s call it a joint wrong. Maybe you could have been nicer about it, but I needed to hear it. It’s never nice to have to face your demons. No one else could have made me. I might have sulked about it, but I am grateful. Really. That’s why I’m going back to Africa.”

“Thanks, Matt. I appreciate your generosity. When you wouldn’t return my calls, I knew I had gone too far.”

“I thought you had, for a long time. Then I saw there was at least some truth in what you said. As time went on I was embarrassed at how badly I behaved and how long it took for me to see reason, so then I couldn’t bring myself to call you. But I really did miss you. Home has been bleak without you. It’s just somewhere to sleep now.” Aoife rested her head on his shoulder as they continued to dance in a much more comfortable silence. The next track was a fast song, and they made their way off the floor by unspoken agreement, although Matt kept a firm grip of Aoife’s hand and she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to extricate herself from his grasp, even when they joined a group of Matt’s colleagues. Eventually, he had to let her go so he could use the bathroom.

“Please, don’t leave before I come back,” he begged as he left. He couldn’t bear to lose her again.

“Okay, but I do want to spend some time with Fiona. I’ll find you before I leave, to say goodbye.” He knew then there was no way he would let her say goodbye; they had done that once too often.

When Aoife was ready to leave a couple of hours later, Matt asked if he could join her.

“No sex or funny business, I promise. I just want to talk.” He felt so damn grateful when she agreed. He caught Fiona winking at him knowingly as they left. He wished she had good reason, but he knew he had a bit of ground to make up with Aoife before she would trust him again. Still, he was so grateful to be getting another chance. He had already mucked up two; this time he would do whatever it took to hold on to her.

Her apartment was neater than he expected. She made a pot of coffee, and Matt knew he should refuse it at that hour of the night. He resisted the urge to tell her off for stimulants before bed. It was hard to climb down from his high horse at times. As a compromise, he heated a half mug of milk and topped the mug up with coffee.

“You wanted to talk. The floor is yours,” Aoife said, putting him on the spot. He hated that, he wasn’t good with words at the best of times, but when the pressure was on he tended to totally clam up. It didn’t help that she took a seat opposite him at the kitchen table; he couldn’t reach her unless she met him halfway. It made her more distant, more formidable.

“What I really want to do is go back to the night before you left, and start over at that point,” he fumbled.

“You mean when we had sex,” Aoife replied.

“Yes, but not just about having sex, you still trusted me then. Until I screwed up. Please, give me another chance.” Aoife didn’t say anything at all for a while, just seemed lost in thought. Once or twice she opened her mouth as if about to speak but changed her mind.

“Say something, for Christ’s sake. Even if it’s to tell me to get lost.”

“Christ, this is hard to ask. But what is it you want? We haven’t exactly had any sort of normal relationship, so I’m a bit lost here. I don’t want to have to answer to you for every moment of my time, like before. Would we be normal boyfriend and girlfriend or would you still want to punish me? ”

“If you were doing anything to put yourself in danger, I would. Definitely.”

“And if I don’t agree to that? It’s not the sort of relationship I ever imagined.”

“You will agree, maybe not straight away, but in the end. You like it that way.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

“You know it’s true, even if you want to fight it. You like boundaries and you definitely like to be spanked.” Aoife’s features flushed and her breathing quickened as her eyes darkened. Yes, Matt was confident she would agree to that aspect.

“You have to start listening to me, not just assuming,” she said.

“Agreed.”

“And trusting me, to go out, to have a drink, to be responsible.”

“Again, agreed. I do trust you, you’ve proven you can manage your own life again.”

“I’m staying here, not moving back to your place.”

“For now, agreed. But I do hope you will change your mind on that in time.”

“I’ve never had a relationship that lasted more than a couple of weeks. Time might not come into it.”

“Maybe this will be your first. Give it a chance at least.”

“Okay,” Aoife agreed. He could see her hesitation. He realised it was as big a leap for her as for him.

“Do you want me to go home?” he asked. He didn’t want to push his luck even though what he really wanted was to stay. Aoife shook her head. She stood, lifted the two mugs, and placed them in the sink before taking his hand and leading him to her bedroom.

Her bravado seemed to desert her when they reached her bedroom. She stood there, looking at him nervously. Matt unzipped her dress, letting it fall in a shimmering pool at her feet and with a light tug, urged her to step out of the puddle of material. He pushed her gently towards the bed, sitting her down while he quickly discarded his own clothes before assaulting her lips with his own, greedily gorging on what he had been missing so long. He unhooked her bra and slipped it off first one shoulder, then the other, lightly nipping a trail with his teeth down to her breasts as it slipped off. She reached to touch him, but he caught her hands.