Page 41 of The Therapist
‘Oh right, well, if this is an emergency I can give you the number of a mental health support line and they’ll help you find someone right now to help.’
‘No…it’s not an emergency.’ He sighs – this is so much harder than he thought it would be. He really didn’t think this through. ‘I’m afraid that if I don’t see someone today, I’ll chicken out and never see someone. I’ve been struggling with this for a long time and today…I feel like today’s the day but… Look, don’t worry about it. I probably shouldn’t talk to anyone anyway,’ he says, laying it on thick.
‘Okay…wait…look, I’m going to put you on hold for a minute,’ says the young woman. He knows she’s quite pretty with curly dark hair but he didn’t really pay much attention to her the first time he was at the practice. How much attention did she pay to him? Will she recognise him when he walks in?
What an idiot you are. This is the dumbest thing to try.
There’s no chance this is going to work. He should probably just turn around and go home. Maybe he can figure out where Lana lives and speak to her there. But that would be a weirdstalker thing to do. Her turning up at his house was definitely a weird thing to do.
‘Mr Burns,’ says Kirsty, coming back on the line, and Mike holds his breath, knowing what she’s going to say.
‘Yup.’
‘Lana has just had a cancellation at two. It’s very unusual but if you could get here in time to fill out the form, that would be great and she can see you today.’
‘Thank you, thanks so much. I’ll get there as soon as I can,’ replies Mike and he feels like the universe has given him a high five. He’s doing the right thing. Relief is warm inside him and he feels more positive than he has done for days. He can even imagine that Sandy will be home soon and all this will be over.
He will walk in just before 2 p.m. so he doesn’t have time to fill out the form and so that if the receptionist recognises him, she may dismiss it as a coincidence, thinking he looks like someone who was there more than a week ago. He will get to say his piece to Lana without interruption. And he will quiz her on what she’s said to the detective.
He needs to speak to her alone.
That’s all he’s going to do –just speak to her.
SIXTEEN
Lana
‘Just going to the loo,’ Kirsty says through the intercom, ‘and is it okay if I get a quick coffee from the café as well?’
‘Sure,’ I reply even though I would like to tell her not to leave her desk. I don’t want to be here alone when a new patient that I know nothing about walks in. Jessica, my usual 2 p.m. client, cancelled at the last minute because she forgot she has a facial. If I had been able to speak to Jessica, I would have tried to make her understand that she was avoiding therapy because she doesn’t want to discuss her new relationship, in case she is forced to confront any red flags in the process. But she left the message with Kirsty and happily paid for the missed session. Jessica frequently misses sessions, but she always pays. I haven’t yet confronted her about her avoidant behaviour. I’m hoping to find a way to get her to acknowledge it when she does actually turn up.
There’s a bell on the counter for my new client to ring if Kirsty is not back. I shouldn’t have said yes to seeing the man but since I was cancelled on by both Peter and Jessica today, I felt the need to actually do something good with my time. Thiswhole situation with Sandy and my handling of it has me feeling unmoored, as though I have lost my way as a therapist as old feelings of insecurity creep in and I doubt myself at every turn. It would be nice to see someone with a problem I can help with.
‘He sounds really worried and like he’s made this big decision to get help but if he doesn’t see someone today, he may go back on it,’ Kirsty told me when she buzzed me to tell me about the new client. Usually when someone cancels, Kirsty goes down a list of all my other patients waiting for appointments and asks if they want the slot, but Jessica didn’t leave us with much notice.
I turn my chair around and look out of my office window that overlooks a park. There aren’t many people around and those that are there are rugged up against the cold. Sometimes the beginning of spring brings a burst of warmer weather but not this year it seems.
I hear the door that leads out of the office suite slam shut as Kirsty leaves and I am on my own. It’s 1.45 p.m. I can eat my yoghurt and the muesli that I so carefully packed last night in a special Tupperware, but the thought of it is unappealing. I am supposed to be trying to lose some weight so of course all I want is food that I shouldn’t have. That’s why diets don’t work.
Instead, I root through my handbag and find a chocolate chip protein bar that I usually keep for Iggy in case he gets hungry somewhere I can’t readily find food. The protein bar is at least six months old because that has never happened but I open it and eat it anyway, the slightly plastic taste somehow more satisfying than anything truly filling would be. I know it’s filled with sugar and is only masquerading as health food but I don’t care.
Outside my office I hear the tinkle of the bell on the reception desk and I stand, quickly swallowing down the last bite of the protein bar. The new client was supposed to have time to fill outthe intake form but it’s nearly two now so there’s no point. Kirsty can get all his details after the appointment. I have his name, Don, which is all I need.
I open my office door, a smile on my face. There is a man standing in reception with his back to me looking out into the corridor as though seeking the receptionist. I take a few steps towards him, clearing my throat. He closes the door to the corridor as I open my mouth to greet him which is an odd thing to do but before I can even question that, he turns around and I freeze.
It’s Mike.
‘Mike,’ I say because I can’t think of anything else. Every nightmarish scenario that has been running through my head about Sandy takes another turn, but this time, I am the dead body floating in the river, the bruised face, the broken bones. I should have anticipated this but my senses are off, my abilities dulled, and now I can feel I’m in trouble. This is exactly what Ben was worried about.
Mike looks jittery as his eyes dart from the reception desk to Ben’s closed office door and back to me. Does he know I’m completely alone right now?
‘Sorry,’ he says and then he wrings his hands together. ‘I gave a fake… I’m Don, but not. I just needed to see you.’
My heart is pounding so hard, I fear he can see it in my neck, and I raise a hand and touch where the skin is moving.
‘You shouldn’t be here.’ It takes everything I have to sound calm and in control.
‘You shouldn’t have come to my house. And you shouldn’t have gone to the police.’ His voice is low, threatening, his fists clenched.
