The publishers of
Swans contacted me today to say that although THE DAY OF THE SWANS isn’t being
published until 13th August, it’s now on Amazon in many countries and also on Kindle. I
don’t like Kindle at all, but authors have to move with the times and
technology is moving incredibly fast.
A few words of praise
for my publishers who have worked hard to produce an excellent looking novel.
Thanks very much!
I do hope you buy Swans
from a bookstore or if you prefer buying on line, can I ask you to buy it
directly from the publishers on the link below, not from Amazon?
I have recently discovered that Amazon takes a whooping great 60% off writers
for selling their books. [So, that’s why I get so little from my Amazon sales!]
If you live abroad the book will be available in book shops in two week’s time.
Here is the second
extract from my novel. It ends of a cliff-hanger.
***
The Italian café in Barrett
Street was small and intimate and served good, reasonably priced food. It was
hidden down a small pedestrianised area so it was always possible to find an
empty table. Lunch had become an integral part of Anna’s training. She and Max
met there every Thursday to discuss her progress and air any problems she might
have. She saw Max through the small paned windows, studying the menu as usual,
and yet he always had the same lunch – a prawn sandwich.
He glanced up at her as she sat
down opposite him and placed her assessment report on the red and white checked
table cloth in front of him.
‘Finished it already?’ Max
smiled at her, his grey eyes creasing in the corners. He looked all of his
fifty-one years in the spring sunlight which suddenly slanted through the
window. ‘That’s very quick.’ He opened the report and scanned its contents,
oblivious to the noise coming from the kitchen. Luigi, the Italian chef was
arguing with his wife Alexandra again.
‘I think Kieran’s got Dependent
Personality Disorder. She can’t make a decision without her parent’s approval,
especially her father’s. She’s still living with them and she’s nearly 35.’
She pointed to a section in the
report in case Max would miss its relevance. He looked at her pointedly.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. Perhaps
she was suffering from a dependent personality too. She was desperate for Max’s
approval.
Anna was always amazed by the
speed at which Max read. Not only read, but assimilated information and
pinpointed any deficiencies in Anna’s diagnosis. Perhaps they taught speed
reading in America, she thought. She pretended to study the menu whilst
studying him, noticing how his eyes narrowed as they raced from line to line.
He was nearly at the end of the report before he frowned. Anna tensed. What had
she written?
He looked up and her and said:
‘So what are you having?’
‘What?’ Anna hadn’t looked at
the menu. ‘Oh, the same as you.’
Alexandra, the waitress came
over, her face relaxing as she saw Max. People always relaxed when they saw him.
‘Dr. Paris – it wonderful to see you. Not like him in kitchen.’ She glared over
at the kitchen door where Luigi was banging every pot and pan they owned.
Anna wondered why Max chose such
a noisy place to come to eat.
‘We’ll have two prawn
sandwiches, Alexandra. Tell Luigi to think of his blood pressure.’
‘Blood pressure! That man he
have no blood pressure! He - a Sicilian!’
‘Tell him I know as much about
blood pressure as he does about food. He needs to relax if he doesn’t want a
heart attack.’
‘I tell him, but he no listen.’
She flounced off to argue with him again.
Max and Anna smiled at each
other.
‘I wonder why they stay
together,’ Anna mused. The kitchen now sounded like a battle zone.
‘They love each other,’ Max
answered, staring out of the window.
Sadness shifted over his face
like a cloud, but at that moment, Anna was more interested in what he thought
of her report than his sadness.
‘So, what do you think?’ She
tried to sound casual.
‘It’s detailed.’
‘Yes, but do you agree with my
diagnosis?’
Max smiled at her. ‘Always so
direct. Sure you’re not American? Yes, I agree. She’d be a good candidate for
hypnosis. Trances can be very useful clinically. Remember how Milton Erickson
used a technique called confusion?
He said things on the surface which seemed logically contradictory, conveyed an
ingenious creative truth. I’ll get one of the -’
‘I’ve studied and practised hypnosis for two years, Max. Can I do it?’ Anna knew she was
speaking too fast, but she desperately wanted to help Kieran and if her
hypnosis helped her become independent of her parents she’d get a higher
assessment rating. They would both benefit.
She waited as Max studied her
face for some time before answering. ‘Do you think you can really help her?’
There was something in Max’s
expression that stopped her from saying yes
confidently. ‘I don’t know, but I’ll try
my best,’ she said simply.
‘What supervisor could ask for
more? You can start hypnosis next week.’
Anna’s face flushed with
pleasure. ‘That’s the best news I’ve had today. Thanks, Max.’
‘How many psychologists does it
take to change a light bulb?’ Max said seriously.
Anna stared at him in confusion. Was this some sort of test?
‘It’s a joke,’ Max said, smiling
at her.
Anna felt relief flood through
her. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Only one, but the bulb must
really want to be changed,’ Max said. ‘Remember that when you see Kieran.’
Alexandra brought their sandwiches and smiled
at Max. ‘I tell Luigi what you say about blood pressure, Dr.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘He shout and shout, so he don’t
hear. Then I shout and shout, then he listen and stop shouting. A miracle, I
tell him.’ Alexandra made the sign of the cross before walking off.
From the kitchen they heard
Luigi singing.
‘You should charge them, Max.
They’d have killed each other months ago if it wasn’t for you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ he answered
tersely.
Anna glanced at him quickly. He
was frowning. She realised that Max didn’t need compliments from a trainee.
He’d published a vast collection of books and articles on Clinical Psychology
and was an authority on Personality Disorders. What an incredible stroke of
luck for her that he’d moved from New York to London all those years ago. But
perhaps she’d aimed too high asking for his supervision. What if he gave her a
poor grade for her thesis?
‘So, how’s the thesis progressing?’ Max asked,
as if reading her thoughts.
Knowing that Max was going to
grade her thesis had forced Anna to focus on her research and writing, but it
also gave her a great deal of pressure. She was determined not to reveal how
much she still had to write. Max had
helped her find a topic that had been under-researched. She was writing her
thesis on The Effectiveness of Cognitive
Behavioural Therapy in Treating Gender-Related Depression. She found it
fascinating researching the differences between the male and female triggers
for jealousy: the males feeling more jealous over sexual infidelity, while
females being more threatened by emotional infidelity.
She looked at him confidently.
‘Okay. I’m concentrating on how past aggressive behaviour in relationships is
an indicator of future aggression at the moment.’ Max often saved her hours of
research by pointing her in the direction of the right books and journals to
check. She hoped he’d do so again.
‘Have a look at the MacArthur
Study of Mental Disorder and Violence conducted in the States by Monahan.
There’s an interesting section on aggressive clients. You’ll find it useful.’
‘Okay. I’ll have a look
tonight.’ Anna tried to look as if she meant it. She’d never have time tonight.
She was going to see Romeo and Juliet
at the National with Tim and her parents. She smiled as she thought of Tim’s
recurring quotation in their bedroom:
“For I never saw true beauty til this night.” Then he’d undress her. Slowly. Anna was
suddenly aware that Max was giving her a strange look. ‘Sorry…where were we?’
‘Your thesis. You know I need it on my desk before
your placement ends.’
Anna felt her heart race. God –
how on earth was she going to finish it in two months? ‘No probs,’ she said casually.
Max winced and Anna suddenly
remembered Marie telling her how Max hated slang. He certainly wasn’t a typical
American.
‘Sorry, I’ll have it on your
desk in six weeks. Without fail.’
Max gave her a small smile. ‘A
little better, if over-confident.’ He took another bite out of his sandwich and
ate it slowly before saying, ‘I’ve got a potential new client for you. The last
client of your placement.’
Anna always felt a frisson of
excitement when Max mentioned a new client. It was a challenge to be able to
discover what their real problem was, but he’d never used the word ‘potential’
before.
‘Why potential?’
Max always gave Anna some
background into a client’s history before letting her see him or her, but this
time he was reticent.
‘He told me …’
Max frowned as he ate the last
portion of his sandwich. Anna suddenly realised that it wasn’t eating that had
stopped him speaking, but something else. Something she hadn’t seen on his face
before…puzzlement.
‘He told you what?’ She asked,
very curious.
‘He told me he was depressed.’
‘So why are you puzzled?’
‘Because dear, direct Anna -
everything about the man negates depression.’
‘Has he filled in one of
questionnaires?’ The clinic had many
questionnaires but Anna knew that Max preferred the Hamilton Rating Scale; he
believed it was more accurate in measuring the severity of a client’s depressive
state than Becks.
‘No. He said he didn’t like
questionnaires. I warn you now - he’s not going to be easy. His demeanour, body
language and speech all negate depression.’
‘I wonder why he said he was
then.’
‘That’s what you’ve got to find
out.’
‘Is he going to be very
difficult, do you think?’
‘I think he’ll be challenging.’
Anna thought fast. Max had never said a client
was challenging before, but if he had suggested that she should treat him, he
must have confidence in her abilities. But was she ready for such a challenge?
‘Perhaps he needs your
experience, Max.’
‘He doesn’t want my experience.
There must be a reason for that. Do you want to see him?’
‘What’s he like?’ she asked him.
‘Like? That’s a very vague term. He’s
intelligent and plays word games. Do you want to take him on?’
‘I need another client to
complete my placement, don’t I?’
Max nodded as he wiped his hands
on a paper napkin. ‘Yes, I’ve just said that, but it doesn’t have to be him.’
‘Would you offer me a permanent
job if I do?’ Anna said, without thinking.
Max looked stunned by her
request and Anna realised how crass the question must have sounded. She
clenched her hands under the table in embarrassment. Why would he want to work
with a woman who spoke before her brain was engaged? He liked dispassionate
thinking.
‘I don’t do deals with trainees.
Come on. Back to work.’
Max moved over to Alexandra to
say goodbye before Anna could apologize. She stood up slowly, feeling a bit
shaky. She’d blown her chances.
‘Arrivederci.’ Alexandra and
Luigi called in unison. They stood in front of the kitchen holding hands. ‘See
you next Thursday.’
Anna glanced at Max who was
holding the door open for her. She couldn’t tell from his face whether there
would be any more Thursdays.
‘Lunch was great,’ Anna said as
they walked out into the street.
She glanced at Max as they
turned into Wigmore Street. He was staring ahead with an inscrutable expression
on his face. She’d obviously annoyed him. If only I could retract time, she
thought.
‘Your new client says he’s a
painter,’ Max suddenly said.
‘Says?’
‘Well, I could say I’m a brain
surgeon, but I’m not. Be prepared for invention, that’s what I’m saying,’ Max
answered as they walked past the Wigmore Hall.
‘Why don’t you say he lies?’
She’d done it again. Questioned him as if she knew as much as him.
‘Because I don’t know if he
does, that’s why. Just be prepared.’
‘Like a boy scout?’ Anna asked
him, making a mock scout salute as they crossed the road together. Max suddenly
smiled before grabbing her arm to stop her from colliding with a slow-moving
car.
‘Carry on like that Anna Nash
and you won’t be meeting any clients ever again.’ Max guided her onto the
pavement. ‘Didn’t your parents ever
teach you about the green cross code?’
‘The what?’ Anna asked.
‘It was a UK government
programme devised in the 70s to make children stop, look and listen before they
crossed a road. I read about it in the States.’
‘I was born in 1986, Max.’
‘All right, so you don’t read
history. Now stop making me feel old.’
She grinned at him. ‘But you
are,’ she said instinctively. It was the sort of thing she said to her parents
all the time, but Max wasn’t a parent. He was her boss. She glanced at him
nervously, waiting for him to frown, but all he did was smile. Max must be the
most secure person I know, Anna thought with relief; he obviously didn’t care
he was middle-aged. Anna hoped she felt the same when she was older.
‘So, any more details about the
new client?’ she asked hopefully.
‘I told you, I haven’t got any.
It’s your job to discover what’s wrong with him.’
‘Okay,’ Anna said, determined to
prove to Max that she was worth employing. A sudden thought occurred to her.
‘Is he on medication?’
Max frowned as they sauntered
towards the clinic. ‘He says he’s not, but-’
‘Be prepared for invention?’
They smiled at each other as
they walked into the clinic.
Marie was sitting in her usual,
relaxed position at reception. ‘I sent the new client up to Anna’s office, Max.
Was that all right?’
‘That’s fine, Marie. Can you
give Anna his file?’ He turned to Anna. ‘Not that there’s much information in
it.’
Anna took the thin file off
Marie and sprinted up the stairs. ‘See you later, Max.’
‘Come to see me after you’ve
seen him.’ Max called to her.
‘Okay!’ Anna shouted back.
If only she had known who was
waiting for her in her office, she’d never have left the café; never have
sprinted up the stairs with so much youthful enthusiasm, but she didn’t. She
hurried along the carpeted corridor, humming quietly to herself, blissfully
unaware that she was about to meet a man who was going to ravage her life.
