Sorry I haven’t been posting recently, but I
had to go into hospital last week for a sports-related foot op. Very painful.
Now I’m hobbling around with a plaster cast on my foot, but I’m still writing! Writing
my next novel, but I’m excited that The
Day Of The Swans is soon to be published. I’m having a number of book
launches in the autumn; I hope you can come to one of them.
Here are some dates for your diary: Thursday, 13th September, Waterstones,
Rose Lane Branch, Canterbury at 7 p.m. This is the first musical book
launch they’ve ever had, so if you want to be entertained, do come along!
Or if you can’t manage that one, how about Tuesday, 9th October at
Waterstones, Tunbridge Wells at 7p.m? Another lively evening with lots of
surprises.
The novel is written from four perspectives;
the first is seen from Anna, the trainee therapist’s eyes. Here is part of the
first chapter.
Chapter
1
ANNA
It
was the kind of morning Anna loved: an azure blue sky with a hint of spring
budding on the ash trees in Cavendish Square as she walked through the small
park towards Wigmore Street. In spite of the diseased smell of traffic; the
cacophony of taxis circling the square and the jostle of pedestrians focused on
work, all Anna could think of was the previous night. She and Tim had indulged in athletic love-making for hours and
they’d both got up late. She smiled to
herself as she weaved a path through the stationary cars and taxis; she didn’t
notice the numerous men staring at her because men had been staring at her all
her life. But she noticed Max, her American supervisor, treading carefully up
the steps of the clinic in the distance. She weaved around the last car, eager
to reach the clinic; determined to discover why 33 year old Kieran O’Reilly was
so nervous.
The clinic was a haven after the
bustle of the street; such a contrast from her last placement in an NHS
hospital with its peeling paint, worn curtains and overworked staff. No wonder
the clients felt stressed in such places, Anna thought. She wished she could
show Government Health Officials how much more beneficial it was for everyone to
be treated in such a tranquil environment.
Marie, the receptionist, was sitting
at her desk coping with a number of clients in her usual calm manner. Anna
often wondered if Marie was employed by the clinic solely because she sedated
the clients with tranquillity.
‘Hi, Anna. Kieran’s waiting for
you in your office.’ Marie smiled her enigmatic Mona-Lisa smile before
answering the telephone.
‘Thanks,’ Anna said, picking up a
file. She walked along the carpeted corridor towards the small, neat office she
had been working in for four months. It wasn’t really her office, but it always
gave her pleasure when Marie called it hers. Kieran O’Reilly had been her first
client after she had applied for a placement in the clinic and had asked to be
supervised by Dr. Max Paris after reading his numerous articles in The Psychologist. She wanted to be
supervised by a man with vast experience and great insight into people’s minds.
Max had asked her to video some of her sessions with clients so he could watch
the way she interacted with them. So far, he’d liked what he had seen, he told
her. She only had two months left of her placement and if Max gave her a
positive assessment she’d be a fully certified Clinical Psychologist in nine
months. She knew her parents would be proud of her; but then they always were -
whatever she did.
Anna opened the door of the office
and smiled at Kieran who crouched, taut with tension, on the edge of a wooden
chair. She had to find a way to make her relax.
‘Hello, Kieran. Isn’t it a
beautiful day?’
Kieran’s eyes darted from the
ground to the window in surprise and Anna realised she hadn’t noticed that the
sun was shining.
Anna sat down, unperturbed by
Kieran’s lack of reply. She hadn’t spoken at all during their first session
together. This had worried her a lot at the time, but when she’d talked about
it with Max, he’d told her about a client he’d once had who didn’t speak for
three sessions. Then all his problems spilled out of him like an oil slick.
Anna watched Kieran twisting her
lank, brown hair around an index finger like a vulnerable child.
‘Do you remember me asking you to
write a journal?’
Kieran nodded, but didn’t make eye
contact.
‘Did you write one?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can I read it?’
Reluctantly, Kieran opened the
small bag she clutched on her lap as if Anna was about to rip it away from her.
She brought out a small cheap notebook and gave it to Anna without looking at
her. Her hand shook slightly.
MONDAY
Today Anna
told me to write a journal about my thoughts but it’s difficult as I don’t know
what to write about but I have to must write something. But what?
TUESDAY
Very
nervous. What can I write about? Nothing ever happens to me.
WEDNESDAY
Didn’t
sleep last night. Worried about writing the journal.
FRIDAY
Feeling
ill. Couldn’t write yesterday. Can’t write today.
SATURDAY
I went for
a walk.
SUNDAY
What will
happen when Anna finds out that I haven’t written anything?
Anna looked up from the journal
and smiled into Kieran’s tense face.
‘But you have written something,
haven’t you?’
For the second time that morning,
Kieran registered surprise.
‘You’ve said you had to write
because I told you to. Did you always do what you were told to as a child?’
‘Yes,’ she answered in a quiet,
lilting voice.
‘Always?’
‘Always.’
‘Were your parents pleased about
that?’
‘Pleased?’ Kieran frowned at Anna
as if she’d never heard of the word before. ‘I think they were, but I don’t
know.’
It was Anna’s turn to be
surprised. Parents who didn’t show pleasure. She thought how incredibly lucky
she’d been to have her parents; parents who showed her how much they loved her
when she was growing up.
‘So what made them happy?’ Anna
asked her.
Kieran thought about the question
for a long time before answering. ‘When I played by myself without bothering
them.’
Bothering them? Anna thought. The
parents are the problem, not Kieran.
‘Didn’t you like playing by
yourself?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
Kieran’s forehead furrowed
again. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’
Anna tried to work out what she
meant. ‘You didn’t know how to play?
‘No, I knew how to play, but I
needed them to tell me what to do first.’
It suddenly came to Anna. ‘You
don’t like making decisions.’
‘I hate making them,’ Kieran whispered.
‘You preferred your parents making
them for you.’
‘Yes,’ she answered.
‘Do you know why, Kieran?’
For the first time, Kieran glanced
at her before answering. ‘Yes. I might make the wrong ones and then what would
happen?’
‘What do you think would happen?’
Anna asked her gently.
‘I’d make the wrong ones and then
my parents would leave me.’
***
