The Right Treatment (6 page)

Matt had the whole night on the emergency ward to think about how he could help. It was a terrible night, non-stop drunken or doped-up lunatics in to be patched up after fights or accidents. At one stage a road accident came in, someone who had been high while driving had killed himself and injured four others. That clinched it for him. There was no way in hell that Matt was letting Aoife go the same way. Once his shift was over he jotted it all down, to make sure there would be no misunderstandings; he would help only if Aoife agreed to give him total and utter control for the period of her treatment. A boot camp it was. Boot camp for one, with Matt as the sergeant major.

Chapter Five

“Okay, I’ll help,” Matt said when he called on Aoife the next morning. He handed her two pages of almost illegible doctor’s scrawl. “These are my conditions. Just so as we’re clear, you live with me, you do exactly as I say, how and when I say it. No exceptions. If you break the rules, you’ll be punished. If you push it too far, I call your parents to come and get you. After that, you’re on your own.”

“What do you mean, I live with you? And you don’t expect me to give you favours, surely?” Aoife asked.

He felt his face flush. Much and all as he had once wanted to get into Aoife Devine’s knickers (and maybe still did), he had no desire to have a sexual relationship with someone under duress, especially someone who probably had more men than the French Foreign Legion and was on the edge of all-out neurosis. No, that was not his intention at all. But fond memories of his teenage crush and her kindness to him when everyone else had ridiculed him, made him take a risk. He would do anything to see a reappearance of the beautiful, promising young girl that she once was. Not for sex, but for old times’ sake.

“You’ll have the guest bedroom. I will be your caregiver, disciplinarian, and doctor. Nothing more. Besides, you have little option; you know Fiona doesn’t want you back in the apartment.”

Obviously raging as she was at his reminder of her homelessness, Aoife readily agreed before she had even read through his conditions. Matt snatched the pen from her hand, glaring at her.

“Rule one! You never agree to anything without knowing the conditions. This is for starters: one hour of exercise, another hour of research on the effect of drugs, and a further hour of study of some subject of your choice. One hour of journal entry and writing up what you studied. Three hours of voluntary work at a rehab centre,” he cited, reading from the sheet.

“Are you fucking crazy? For starters, what rehab centre would want me near the place? Second, what about my job?” Aoife interrupted.

“I have the rehab in hand and you need to go on sick leave during your recovery anyway, so your work will not be a problem. Besides, it’s only a couple of weeks until summer break. You get six weeks off then. It’s non-negotiable. If you fail to meet those conditions, you will face punishment. And watch your tongue,” Matt instructed.

“What do you mean by punishment?” Aoife asked, eying him warily.

“Loss of privileges, lines, extra work duties, even corporal punishment if necessary.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her face blazed with fire and indignation. Matt tried to maintain a poker face, unsure if he had succeeded or not.

“Try me and you’ll see,” he replied.

“And if I refuse to accept punishment?”

“Then you’re on your own. You know Fiona is kicking you out, so I suppose you’ll have to find a bedsit or something.”

“Fuck you. I never had you down for a bully, Matt.”

“No, you had me down for a soft touch. But you don’t need that right now. You need someone to take control for you until you regain it. I would be doing you no favour if I let you continue what you’re at. You asked for my help, and this is the best I can offer. Take it or leave it.”

Matt left Aoife to mull it over; he needed to be sure she thought about it, not just agreed to anything to get out of there. He wasn’t even sure he wanted her to. It was a hell of a lot of responsibility to take on just because he’d had a crush on her as a geeky kid. He’d spoken to Paul Smith and knew Aoife would be out of the hospital in a week, or sooner if she decided to just walk. He needed that week to clear the decks at work and get locum cover, because for the first two weeks he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight. Fortunately, her timing was good. He was due leave before taking on his consultant position; he just had to stretch it a little.

When he returned to her the following day, Aoife accepted his terms in full and was impatient to leave immediately.

“You will stay until Dr. Smith discharges you, is that clear? You leave here one day sooner and the deal is off.”

“But I’m ready to go now. I can’t sleep with the noise here, and the food sucks. I’ll be much better off at your place.”

“No, and that’s my final word on the subject. If you persist on pestering me like an impatient little child, then I will end the visit.”

“Matt, please! I’ll do anything.”

“Visit over, but one last thing: for as long as I am caring for you, you will call me Dr. McDaid. Respect and courtesy will be expected at all times. And you need a full sexual health exam before you leave,” Matt said as he headed for the door. It was obvious she hadn’t expected him to follow through on his threat from the way her mouth was hanging open.

Round one, Matthew!
he cheered inwardly as he left the small room. She would soon learn that he was no longer the grateful puppy, wagging its tail happily just because Aoife Devine had walked in the room. It had taken grit, determination, and self-control for Matt to qualify as a doctor. He intended to put every one of those qualities to work now along with as many more as he could muster. Aoife Devine had just become his pet project, and Matt couldn’t bear to fail at anything.

When Matt finally went to bring Aoife home, he was greeted by hysterical tears, and a very anxious Dr. Smith trying to calm her.

“What’s happened, Paul?” Matt asked his colleague, who led him back out to the corridor.

“Aoife has been suspended from work, pending satisfactory completion of two months of addiction counselling and psychiatric care.”

“Holy hell! Does that mean she has to stay here that long? Although that might be the best thing for her, even though she obviously won’t see it like that.”

“Quite! No, she can be treated as an outpatient, and with the bed shortages, frankly, there wouldn’t be the option to keep her here that long. I’m just concerned about how she is taking the news. Are you sure you’ll be able to manage her?”

“I hope so. Someone has to. Is it all right to talk to her?”

“I wish you luck!” Paul replied, throwing his hands in the air with sheer exasperation.

Matt turned to return to the small, sterile room. Just as he was about to open the door, Paul spoke again.

“Call me anytime, day or night, Matt. As far as I can see, Aoife is not an addict to any particular substance; she is running from something, and God only knows when that something will catch her.”

“Thanks, Paul. I really appreciate that.” Matt shuddered as he turned back to the door. Although it was a relief not to have to deal with cold turkey issues, the fact that her unhappiness ran so deep was ominous. And outside his sphere of control.

Aoife was sitting on the bed, with her knees up and her arms wrapped around them; her vacant eyes stared ahead and she was rocking back and forth as she sobbed. She looked pathetic. Nothing like the vibrant, easy-going girl he had once known. Matt sat on the bed beside her and hugged her tight, not allowing her to continue her almost trance-like motion. His embrace was firm and purposeful rather than tender; he wanted to bring her back to the now, without allowing softness to further fuel her self-pity.

“You need to stop that this instant, unless you want another night here,” Matt scolded as he held her tight, preventing that rocking motion that sent cold shivers down his spine.

“My job…” she cried.

“Is still your job as long as you behave and do as they say,” Matt finished for her. “Consider it a very timely wake-up call, Aoife, before you really hurt yourself. You were going to be on sick leave for at least another few weeks anyway, and it runs through the summer holidays. Play it straight, and you might be ready to return when school opens in September.”

“But now it will be on my record.”

“You can worry about that later; let’s just get you back on the straight and narrow for now, okay?”

Aoife hesitantly nodded her agreement and Matt slackened his vise-like grip enough to allow her to take some comfort from the human contact. He was pleased she didn’t pull away as he felt it implied an element of trust in him. He allowed her to calm down completely before releasing her and helping her pack up her belongings. Once they had gone through the discharge documents, he was free to take Aoife home. With the amount of distress she was in, he decided to leave her check-up for another few days—he doubted she was up to the task or that it would leave a memorable impression he hoped for of the risks she had taken.

Although mentally fragile and lethargic, Aoife was physically well and generally fit. Matt intended to capitalise on this and get her body’s natural feel-good drugs, endorphins, working in her favour. That meant exercise, and the more the better. He knew he would have to work on this slowly, but he started his exercise plan the day after she got out, with twenty minutes of gentle walking in the nearest park followed by ten minutes of stretches, a short jog and back to walking again. He filled the prescribed hour without overtaxing her. As he expected, Aoife resisted it with all her might as it required proactivity rather than oblivion. At first Matt coaxed her, understanding it was a whole new concept to her. While she wasn’t overly fit, she was young and reasonably active, used to dancing for long periods at least, so he wasn’t concerned about her ability to keep up. He knew it to be a lack of desire rather than lack of stamina. On the third day, he was running out of patience with her. He had asked her nicely to get into her gear twice already. But he was trying to hold it together, not wanting to come down to heavy too soon. He switched from coaxing to encouraging, telling her how well she was doing since she got out and how much better she looked already. Aoife met his efforts with sulks and whines, but eventually she caved in. On the fourth day, neither coaxing nor cajoling seemed to do the trick, but pure heavy-handedness and threats. They finally got as far as the local park, but it had been a struggle all the way, with Aoife dragging her feet. The pace was little more than a slow walk. It was raining, and at that pace, they were both going to be soaked.

“I’m cold,” Aoife whined. They were walking along a tree-lined path, and a strong breeze was indeed chilling him. He was getting more and more annoyed with her.

“If you would try moving a bit faster, you wouldn’t be cold,” he scolded. He upped his pace to a light jog. “Come on, keep up,” he shouted back to her as Aoife lagged behind. He was quite a way ahead when he realised she had stopped even walking and had plonked her behind on one of the benches. Matt turned on his heel and ran back to where she was sitting, a scowl on her face.

“Up! Now!” he ordered.

“I can’t, I’m too tired,” Aoife whined. There was no way she could have been tired; they had barely gone a kilometre, and that had been at an easy walking pace. He took her by the arm, pulling her up, but she still wouldn’t put one foot in front of the other. Taking a quick glance around for other people, he decided there was only one cure. He swatted her behind hard, once, twice, three times in rapid succession, still holding her arm so she couldn’t dodge his hand. She yelped, stunned. But she moved all right! Once he let go of her, she started running at all her might. Matt caught up with her easily.

“Get. Away. Or. I’ll. Scream!” Aoife threatened, each word coming out between breathless pants.

“Go ahead, scream,” he said, totally unperturbed. He ran close enough to keep an eye on her, but not so close that she got hysterical. Finally she had to slow her pace, but they were nearing the end of their circuit.

“Jog, you need to cool down properly,” he warned as she came to a standstill. For a moment, she continued standing, and he wondered if she was defying him again. He sure as hell hoped not; they had re-joined the main road, and there were plenty of walkers around. It wouldn’t have stopped him physically chastising her if he absolutely had to; he could do it discreetly enough, he reckoned, but he would prefer not to. He came right into her space.

“If you want a smack on your behind with all these people around, you’re going the right way about it,” he warned. Her eyes flashed anger.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Aoife spat.

“Oh, believe me, I would. Now move it.”

She finally started jogging again, slowly, but a definite jog. Matt basked in his triumph until they got to back to his apartment. Aoife didn’t speak a word to him, and he ignored her sulk, going off for a shower. When he returned to the kitchen, there was no sign of her so he knocked on her bedroom door. When she refused to answer, he just walked straight in. He found her throwing her belongings into her bag.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home.”

“Home where? Fiona won’t let you stay.”

“I’ll find somewhere. I don’t have to put up with that sort of abuse. You hit me!”

“I gave you a few swats on your rear end, which you agreed to as part of the terms of coming here. If you don’t calm down and put away your things, you’ll find out what a real spanking feels like. You have nowhere else to go, so cut out that nonsense.” Aoife seemed to realise she was defeated because she dumped the contents of her bag back on the bed with a huff, throwing the empty bag on the floor. Her eyes welled up with tears of self-pity, but Matt had no intention of backing down. It was time she faced the reality of her situation.

“Clean up that mess, then come to the kitchen for lunch,” Matt told her, leaving and shutting the door behind him. He knew she needed time to accept her defeat, and indeed he needed to assess the whole situation. He had crossed the spanking Rubicon, Aoife hadn’t threatened the law on him, and Matt knew then that he could do it in earnest when the need arose. Hell, he looked forward to it. When she returned to the kitchen, she was a much meeker person, the reality of her situation obviously having hit home.