An Impossible Dilemma: A Psychological Thriller Novel (19 page)

Chapter 25

This time we went straight to the ward. We no longer needed the formality of meeting with the doctor first.

The tests went smoothly.

Emily, now used to it, only cried a little bit during the lumbar puncture.

The last results had shown a substantial drop since the previous ones. I knew these would be much better. Her health had once again been amazing since Hector. The only problems were the stealing and her temper, and although both of these things drove me to distraction, I considered the alternative much, much worse.

I left Emily with Diane when Doctor Wilson called us into his office.

"Okay then. Once again, Mrs Lyons, Emily's showing a huge improvement on last time. She’s astounding the entire Neurology department. We can't keep up with her yoyo figures."

"That's great news. Isn't it, Frank?" I said.

He nodded, smiling. "It is, lass."

"We need the rest of the results of course before we get the total picture but these initial ones are quite remarkable. I have no doubt the others will confirm this."

"I was going to ask you, Doctor. Could Emily's illness be causing the kleptomania?"

"My initial reaction would be to say no, but with Emily, I don't want to say anything definite."

"She's also had terrible mood swings, and was suspended from school last week for attacking several of her friends
and
the teacher."

"Suspended? That is a worry. All I can say is that there have been no record of these symptoms before, but that could be because they weren’t reported. People often come to their own conclusions about certain things and don't even think to tell us.” He bounced his pen on the desk.

“I guess we’re guilty of that ourselves. If you remember, it was Frank who mentioned the stealing last time, not me.”

“Yes, and we all agreed it was probably connected to the death of your husband, which could still be the case. Nevertheless, I should have recorded the symptoms on the file.”

I shrugged. “If it is the illness to blame, at least I'll be able to stop punishing her. I feel so awful. She says she can't help it and I
do
believe her, but the parent in me won't allow me to ignore the behaviour. All I seem to do lately is nag at her. She blames the worst of the behaviour on her imaginary friend.”

“That’s normal, I’d say. My own little girl had an imaginary friend when she was this age. Emily will grow out of it.”

“I hope so."

"I wouldn't overdo the punishments. I'll arrange a psychiatric evaluation, if that's all right with you?"

I nodded again.

"See if they can shed any light on this behaviour. I’ll also do some homework. Maybe we can find some more instances of this happening."

"What should I do then? If she attacks another child or steals, I shouldn't tell her off?"

"Try it, at least until she sees the psychiatrist. Praise her good behaviour. Ignore the bad, as much as you can.

"It's worth a try I suppose."

"In the meantime, I'll find out what I can and call you next week with the results."

"Thanks again, doctor."

I patted Emily down before we left the hospital. Frank laughed at me but I didn't intend to come back again if I could help it. She didn't have anything.

We stopped at McDonalds and Emily devoured her Happy Meal and went to play on the climbing frame while Frank and I finished our coffee. She found a new friend, and they ran up and down the slide, playing tag.

I drank the last of my coffee. "I'm going to the bathroom, then we can go—if you've finished?"

"Amen to that. Let’s get out of this awful place." Frank grimaced.

I passed the play area. Emily seemed to be having a wonderful time. She missed playing with her friends from school. The young black girl she was playing with was probably a little older than Emily and she had the cutest face, chubby little cheeks and a wonderful pout.

I noticed a woman sitting opposite the play area who was obviously the girl’s mother, as they were the spitting image of each other.

She smiled and nodded towards me as I walked by.

The sounds of screaming made my blood run cold. I raced back into the restaurant.

Frank was on his feet trying to control a hysterical Emily.

The cute little black girl was screaming the place down, blood all down the front of her white t-shirt. Her mother pressed serviettes to her face.

"What's going on?" I shrieked.

"Control your child before she kills someone. She's a monster!" the mother said.

"What did she do?" I asked. "Emily, what did you do?"

Frank was still battling with her and I snatched her by the arm and dragged her to me. "What did you do?"

"Kicked her,” she said her lip curling once again.

"You kicked her? In her face?"

"She kicked and kicked my daughter until she fell backwards down the ladder. She's not right in the head,” the woman continued.

"Actually, we've just come from the hospital and you're right. She's not well," I said, trying make excuses for my daughter.

"You don't need the hospital to tell you that. I'd have saved you a trip."

"I apologise for my daughter. She really can't help it."

"Then I suggest you keep her away from other children when she's not wearing her straitjacket."

I realised Frank had gone and I found him standing by the front door, his face a pasty grey colour. I walked over to him, dragging Emily behind me.

"Are you okay, Frank?"

He nodded but I didn't believe him.

"Come on, let's get home."

We drove in silence. Frank slumped in his seat, seemed to sink lower and lower as I drove.

I had to force myself to focus on the road. These past months I’d relied heavily on Frank for all kinds of things, forgetting about his illness. The thought of him having another stroke—or worse still, dying—made my heartbeat erratic.

Emily sulked in the back seat. I didn't say a word to her, attempting what the doctor suggested. However, I couldn't ignore what she'd done and be nice to her, so I opted to say nothing at all for now.

By the time we reached the house, Frank had deteriorated.

Stephanie had to help get Frank inside. It was difficult with Frank being such a large man, but between us we managed to get him into the lounge and lying on the sofa.

"I'm calling the doctor," I said.

"No, leave it for a few minutes, I'll be fine soon," Frank said, his voice weak and whispery.

"What's wrong? What are you feeling?" I demanded.

"I got a shock seeing Emily like that. I know you told me how she's been, but I didn't realise how bad she gets."

"But that can't be all. You look terrible. I'll give you five minutes while I make you a cup of tea, and if you're no better, I'm calling the doctor. Okay?"

"Okay."

Tea made, I got a pillow from the linen cupboard in the hall and placed it behind his back. "You're no better, are you?"

"Don't fuss, lass."

"I'll fuss all I want. I'm calling the doctor. No arguments."

I called the surgery and explained the situation.

"Can you bring him in?" the stupid girl on the end of the phone asked.

"No. I'm sorry, but I don't want to move him. He looks terrible."

"Right then, the duty doctor will come out after surgery, but if he gets any worse or complains of chest pain, call an ambulance right away."

"Thank you."

Less than an hour later, a burgundy Honda pulled up on the drive. Doctor Davies was taking his bag out of the boot as I opened the front door.

"Hello, Mrs Lyons. How are you?"

"I'm fine thanks. It's my father–in-law, Frank."

Doctor Davies shook my hand. His solemn gaze fixed on mine, his mouth turned down at the corners. "I was sorry to hear about your husband, Mrs Lyons. Shocking business."

I smiled. "Thanks, doctor. Come on through."

"Hello, Mr Lyons, I'm Doctor Davies. I don't think we've met." He held his hand out to Frank. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Probably nothing. I had a funny turn earlier and it knocked me for six."

"In what way?"

"Dizzy, short of breath, and my legs felt shaky—weak."

The doctor took his stethoscope from his bag and listened to Frank's chest. "Sounds fine," he said. Then he took Frank's blood pressure. "Hmm, that's a little high, but not too bad. Have you been overdoing things lately?"

Frank shook his head.

"He's had a busy day today, doctor. I'm shattered myself, so it must have affected you, Frank."

"What was today?"

"We've been at the hospital all day with Emily," I said.

"Oh yes. How is Emily doing at the moment?"

"They found she has an incurable illness." I glanced around, relieved Emily wasn't about. She'd gone into the snug with Stephanie.

"Yes, I received the notes from the hospital. How has she been?"

"Up and down, literally. The hospital staff are amazed with her."

"Oh, that's good then. Right?” he asked.

“We hope so, doctor.”

Doctor Davies nodded and turned back to Frank. “Mr Lyons. I need you to take it easy for a couple of days. Doctor’s orders. If you're not feeling better by Wednesday, come in to see me at the surgery or call and I'll come out again, but I think you'll be right as rain."

"Thanks, doctor."

"How did you get on with that Shane bloke?" Doctor Davies said, looking straight at me.

Had I heard him right? "Shane bloke?" I said.

"Yeah, outside the surgery that day. The receptionist said she heard your car alarm going off and saw you having trouble with Shane Logan. We were about to call the police when he took off and you and your husband left. I presumed you'd report him."

"Oh, I get you now. Sorry, I didn't know his name. We didn't report it—we were so worried about Emily. I'd actually forgotten all about that."

"I wish I'd have called the police now," he said. "He's a local deadbeat and we'd had a few cars broken into around that time. No problems for a while now though, he's on the missing list."

"What do you mean?" My heartbeat felt jittery.

"His mother's trying to get the police to launch an investigation. Apparently he's been missing for months. Nobody's seen sight nor sound of him. I guess we should thank heaven for small mercies."

After Doctor Davies had gone I sat next to Frank on the sofa. "Oh, my God. I never knew anybody saw anything that day. When he asked about Shane I almost collapsed—I couldn't believe my ears."

Frank chuckled. "Me too."

"What if the police do launch an investigation? There's a connection to us now."

"Yeah, but how many other people would have come across Shane? He was a nasty piece of work."

"I'd have preferred absolutely no connection."

"The police won't be interested in that. You told the doctor you didn't even know who he was. He didn't go missing until weeks after. Don't worry. They won't suspect you of anything."

"I hope you're right, Frank."

Chapter 26

I rang Mrs Jackson first thing the next morning.

"Good morning, Mrs Lyons, how's Emily? We expected her back in school yesterday."

"She had a hospital appointment yesterday. You are aware she's a very sick little girl, aren't you?"

"Erm, I knew she'd had some kind of illness but I thought she was okay now."

I hadn’t officially told the school about Emily’s illness, but Mrs Farnworth knew.

I blew through my lips noisily. "She's far from okay. Her illness is terminal, and although she's not
as
sick in herself right now, I can assure you it's just a matter of time."

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea … What is it?" Although her voice seemed cool and impassive I noticed a slight tremor.

"She's not producing an essential development hormone. It's very rare and there's a chance that the stealing and the temper outbursts are connected. The specialist is arranging for a psychiatric evaluation. I was wondering if you would prefer me to keep her at home in the meantime?"

"That's entirely up to you. I don't want to say you can't bring her in, but we must think of the safety of the other pupils."

"So you're saying I should keep her at home?" I couldn’t believe my ears.

"No. I don't think that's fair either. In fact, if I'd known about the illness last week, I wouldn't have suspended her in the first place. We've got a staff meeting this evening. I'll put Emily at the top of the agenda and see what we can do. Can I call you in the morning?"

"Of course."

"Don't worry, Mrs Lyons. We’ll sort something out."

Frank seemed more like himself this morning, but I insisted he put his feet up on the sofa again.

"I'm fine, lass. Don't fuss."

"You heard what the doctor said; just do as you're told. You've been amazing lately and I'd hate for you to take a backwards step now."

He tutted, shook his head and sat down on the sofa, smiling at me as if to say,
happy now
?

"Good boy." I laughed. "Just for today. If you're feeling okay by tomorrow, I'll leave you alone,” I said. “Now, Emily?"

Emily lifted her head from the colouring book on the table.

"I need you to watch Grandad while I go and feed the animals. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"Can I trust you both?"

"Yes, Mummy," they said together, giggling.

"Ha ha, very funny," I grinned at the two of them.

Stephanie was holding the fort at the clinic today. I intended to join her later to do the wages and the accounts—we were behind with several invoices.

Alex was on his hands and knees and up to his armpits in muddy water at a water trough in the middle of the paddock. I tooted the truck horn and waved as I passed him.

He nodded his head.

***

True to her word, Emily's headmistress called back the next morning.

"I had a chat with the rest of the staff last night and we've decided to put an additional teacher’s aide into Emily's classroom. It will be easier to keep on top of any situation and to intercept before any problems arise," she explained.

Intercept? What was this woman on? We were talking about a six-year-old girl for Christ’s sake. "Will she be made to feel different?" I said.

"Of course not."

"Will other parents be told?"

“Well, no. It's nobody else's business."

"I guess we can give it a try then. When should I bring her in?"

"Tomorrow, if that’s okay. That will give me today to organise things.”

"Okay, thanks, Mrs Jackson."

Emily danced for joy when I told her she could go back to school. There hadn’t been any more angry episodes since McDonalds, but she'd only been around us. I worried how she would cope in a classroom of kids.

The change in the other parents was amazing. The ones who had colluded with Kaylie’s mum now waved and acknowledged both Emily
and
me. Mrs Jackson had said she wouldn't say anything, but someone had clearly blabbed about Emily's illness.

The teacher's aide was a slip of a thing with a gentle, girly voice. She would sit at the back of the classroom and keep an eye out for any potential conflicts with Emily.

Emily was thrilled to be back with her friends and they all seemed pleased to see her—all except Kaylie, who kept her distance.

I reluctantly left Emily in the classroom.

Everything ran smoothly over the next few days. There were a couple of occasions where the teacher's aide had to intervene but nothing major.

***

Doctor Wilson called the following Wednesday. He told me, as expected, that Emily's test results were amazing.

"I'd like to perform further tests next time, if possible."

"What kind of tests?" The hair stood up on the back of my neck.

"I want to try to establish why Emily is having fluctuations with her results. Maybe she's eating something or doing something herself that’s having a positive result. I want to ask if you could keep a diary for me. A daily record of what she is feeling, her attitude, when she steals and her reasons, what makes her angry, and everything she eats and drinks. We will try to establish if there is any kind of pattern to help with the studies into this illness."

"Yes, that's fine," I said.

"Emily's results are making a lot of people very excited, Mrs Lyons. Next time I'd like a colleague to examine her and see what he suggests."

"Okay." I didn't like the idea of extra tests and heightened interest in Emily's results, but what could I say? There was no reason to suspect they'd be able to discover what we'd done. Plus the extra attention could turn up some kind of cure, and that would be wonderful.

"I've made a few enquiries about the behavioural issues and on the whole, there is nothing to report. Except, that is, in the early trials and the children that received the Proteum transplants."

My stomach lurched. "Really?"

"Yes, but that wasn't stealing or anger so I guess it’s irrelevant."

"What was it then?"

One of the parents commented on a complete personality change. Her son went from an introverted boy to the class clown overnight. They weren't bothered—they actually liked the transformation."
              “Were there any others?”

“One other, and she was the complete opposite. She withdrew into herself and sadly committed suicide two weeks later.”

"Oh wow. That's terrible."

"Maybe it's just coincidence that these two children had been the ones that completed the trials, but they were the only ones to show any character changes at all. I am inclined to say at this stage, that the behaviour is probably connected to the condition."

He wasn't suspicious, thank goodness. But then again, why would he be? The idea that we'd performed our own transplants was too far-fetched to comprehend. It felt unreal even to me.

"I’ve arranged an appointment with the psychiatrist next week, on the twenty-fifth of September. I'll send confirmation in the mail. It's at ten o'clock, at the hospital."

"Thanks, Doctor."

"You're welcome. I look forward to seeing you in six weeks or so. Don't forget the diaries, will you?"

"I won't." I replaced the receiver and sighed heavily. So we
had
caused Emily's behaviour. She wasn't to blame. At least Emily could live with these symptoms, unlike the poor girl who'd got the suicidal tendencies.

***

Doctor Christine Forbes had a laid-back demeanor. Probably in her thirties, her flawless peaches and cream skin made her look much younger. She wore a brown gypsy-style skirt, a frilly white blouse and beige waistcoat, dressed up with lots of bangles and a brown bead necklace. Her loosely tied, sandy hair was held with a clip at the nape of her neck. A few stray curls framed her face.

I liked her immediately.

"Come in, you must be Emily," she said to me and winked.

"No
I'm
Emily. She's Mummy." Emily laughed.

"Oh hi, Emily. I'm sorry. I'm such a silly billy.

That was all she needed to do to hook my daughter. They were the best of friends before we entered her office and sat down.

"How old are you, Emily?"

"Six."

"Six. Wow! You're the same age as my daughter, Megan. I bet you like Raggedy-Ann."

"Yes." Emily's eyes lit up. "Does Megan like it?"

"Yes, it's her favourite."

"Does she like the Power Puff girls?"

"She certainly does, and My Little Pony. Excuse me for a second, Emily. I need to talk to your mummy. Is that okay?"

She nodded, smiling.

"I'd like to spend a couple of hours alone with Emily, if you don't mind? Do you have any shopping you need to do?"

"I'm sure I can find something."

"Great, see you back here at say … Twelve-thirty? Then we'll have a chat."

I wandered around the local shopping centre, enjoying the time to myself. After a while, I stopped for a coffee,
a posh coffee
as Steph called them. I sat people watching while I drank.

I never tired of this pastime, although I hadn't done nearly enough of it lately. Jonathan and I would try to guess what people did for a living. If they were married, divorced, had children. We used to end up in hysterics as Jonathan always went too far, inventing way-out scenarios and back stories with such detail. I often thought he was wasted as a farmer, as he’d have made a fantastic fiction writer.

Sitting at the table beside me, a middle-aged couple studied a tablet computer.

They both had dark brown hair, his was greying slightly at the temples which made him appear distinguished, and hers was straight and curled under at the chin. They wore the exact same shade of blue, her in a pinafore dress and he a shirt and trousers. I doubted they had children–too much time on their hands to colour coordinate their wardrobes to be parents.

I imagined their house would be organised and immaculate,  lawns trimmed and edged to perfection, hanging baskets spilling over with an abundance of blooms. No pets. Pets would be too much of an inconvenience to a couple like them.

I couldn’t see what was on the screen but I imagined they were booking an all-expenses paid Mediterranean cruise.

Two Asian females sat in an alcove across the room. I guessed they were mother and daughter as their hair was the same shade of black, and had been styled the same. Although the older woman’s colour wasn’t as vibrant, she was still a very attractive lady. She wore a thick, white cotton shirt and grey slacks.

The young girl wore a pale pink top in crinkly material with a hair bow to match and a white skirt. I couldn’t see her face as she sat at too much of an angle.

Their conversation seemed intense, with the older of the two doing most of the talking while the younger nodded her head. Even though I couldn’t hear what they were saying, I could tell they spoke in a foreign language.

She was probably in trouble for bunking off school, or mixing with the wrong crowd. I guessed the mother had brought the daughter out to discuss the problem, rather than let her father know what she’d been up to. Hence the reason for her mother chewing her ear off.

They finished their drinks and stood up. My stomach flipped and a pang of hurt gripped at my core as I noticed the huge pregnant belly of the girl as she turned to face me. I stood and hurried from the café and back into the mall, blinking back a sudden flood of tears.

Losing the baby had hit me harder than I thought it would. Somehow, through all the uncertainty, I’d developed a bond with my unborn son, and the grief of losing him hit me in waves when I least expected it. And because nobody, except Steph and Frank, knew about it, I had to behave as normal, even though I was experiencing all the stages of grief—the numbness, the anger and most of all, the guilt. I’d been considering terminating the pregnancy, and although some might say nature lent me a helping hand, made it easier on me, I didn’t think so.

Feeling lost and jittery, I still had over an hour to kill. A hair salon caught my eye. I entered without much thought. It had been ages since I’d had a trim.

The young blond girl gave my hair a thorough washing, followed by a mind-blowing head massage. Then she led me to a seat in front of the mirror.

"How much do you want off?"

A moment of madness overcame me. "All of it."

"I'm sorry?"

"Do something different, surprise me."

"But …" She held my golden brown tresses in her hands and stared at my reflection.

"It's okay. I need a change." I nodded.