More Harm Than Good
Michael’s hand, already partly extended, dropped to his side. A new patient meant additional money for his fledgling practice, but one look at the person hanging up his coat in the waiting room, and Michael’s enthusiasm didn’t just dwindle, it plummeted.
He couldn’t treat this man. More to the point, he doubted Stuart Finlay was there to be treated.
‘Hello, Michael.’ Fin smiled and put out his hand.
Michael didn’t shake it. It had been sixteen years – long enough for him to believe the past could have stayed in the past.
‘Can I come in?’ Fin asked.
‘I have a client coming,’ Michael said, hoping it was true.
‘Aaron Saunders sends his apologies.’
Of course he does. ‘Why did you make the appointment under a false name?’
‘Because you wouldn’t have agreed to it if you’d known it was me.’
So they were going for honesty. Fair enough. His movements wooden, Michael stood to the side so Fin could pass.
‘Nice place,’ Fin said.
Michael’s office was his workplace and part of his home. He’d chosen white paint for the walls, a grey palette for the soft furnishings, clean lines, and a solitary ficus he was proud of. Not being skilled in interior design, his aim had been to make his office comfortable but impersonal. Having Fin in that room after all these years made it feel intolerably personal.
Michael took his usual seat.
Fin took the couch, his forearms resting on his knees, and his hands dangling between them.
As children they’d been inseparable, but when they were thirteen, Michael cut Fin out of his life. A week later, Fin disappeared. They hadn’t spoken or seen each other since, and now here he was, eyeing Michael’s ficus as though nothing had happened. Michael wanted to know where he’d been and what had happened, but he’d lost the right to ask those questions, and he wasn’t sure he could stand to hear the answers, anyway. Instead, he waited for the anger, the recriminations, the guilt, and possibly the revenge.
‘How’s everyone?’ Fin asked politely.
‘Why are you here?’ Michael wasn’t about to discuss his family.
‘I have a referral for you.’
He hadn’t expected that.
‘I work as a private investigator,’ Fin said. ‘I met this girl through a job.’
‘She’s a client?’
‘No, a missing person I was hired to find.’
‘And now?’
‘Things didn’t go well. She was left with some fairly serious battle scars.’
‘Is there abuse involved?’ Michael picked up his notebook and pen.
‘Yes.’
‘Physical and emotional?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is the abuse ongoing?’
‘No.’
‘You said “girl”…?’
‘She’s seventeen.’
‘And her name?’ Michael asked, making a note.
‘Katherine Morley. She’s a student at the University of Kent.’
‘Isn’t seventeen young for—’
‘It’s a long story.’
Michael let that go. ‘It’s a bit of a trek to get here from Canterbury.’
‘She has transportation.’
‘Even so.’ Canterbury to Guildford would be easily an hour by car. Longer with traffic. ‘Why doesn’t she find someone more local?’
Fin shifted his position. Michael tightened his grip on the pen in response. It had all been going so smoothly. He sensed that was about to change.
‘Kat’s in a bad way. I don’t think she’s a danger to herself, but she needs help – the sort I can’t give her.’ That admission seemed to hurt him. ‘She needs to speak to someone, but she isn’t always good at knowing what she needs. To be honest, it’s taken me a few months to talk her around on this.’
‘If she’s reluctant to the process—’
‘She isn’t, but trust is a big issue for her. She’s only agreeing to it because… I told her we were friends.’
Michael put down his pen.
‘Believe me, if I knew any other psychologist, anywhere in the country, I would have picked them.’
Charming. ‘You lied to her.’
‘I would never lie to this girl. I misled her.’
‘No wonder she has trust issues.’
‘I’m trying to do the right thing for her,’ Fin said.
‘By lying to her?’
‘By misleading her, yes.’
Michael shook his head. ‘I can’t take on a patient who doesn’t know the score.’
‘That isn’t the case here. All she needs to know is you’re a psychologist, and she can trust you. Was I wrong to tell her that?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Well, then.’ Fin leaned back in the seat.
‘Get her to give me a ring,’ Michael said with a sigh. ‘We can make a preliminary appointment and see how it goes from there.’
Fin was shaking his head before Michael had finished speaking.
‘You need to agree to take her on before she meets you,’ Fin said.
‘That isn’t how this works.’
‘Make an exception for this girl.’
It was a demand, and Michael could feel the past encroaching on the conversation.
‘I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can. You work in the private sector now, Michael—’
Now. He wondered if Fin knew why he’d left the NHS.
‘—You can pretty much do what you want.’
That was an oversimplification.
‘I need to talk with her before I can decide whether she needs help, or if I’m the right person to help her,’ Michael said.
‘Why wouldn’t you be?’
‘I don’t normally deal with adolescents.’
‘But you have, in the past.’
If Fin knew that, he also knew how it had ended.
Michael didn’t like that Fin knew that.
‘You’re trying to back me into a corner.’ And doing it effectively.
‘No, I’m trying to help the girl,’ Fin said.
‘By putting pressure on me.’
‘By asking you to commit to her.’
‘You know, when I first saw it was you, I thought you were here about your father.’ Michael’s control was slipping.
‘You should know better,’ Fin said, his grey eyes suddenly cold and hard.
‘Of course, why you’re the very picture of calm.’ Michael couldn’t seem to stop himself.
‘I told you before: I don’t talk about my father.’
‘That was when we were eight.’ And Michael had seen something he wasn’t meant to.
‘This has nothing to do with what happened back then,’ Fin said.
‘I was there. I know what he did to you.’
‘You don’t know shit about what he did to me. And what about your dad? You think you come from the perfect family?’
‘He never laid a hand on us, and you know it.’
‘Only because he was never there!’
Michael shifted in his seat. There was normally more than enough emotion in this room without adding his own, but memories and feelings were flooding in. Anger for sure, but also guilt. He couldn’t compartmentalise the way he normally would.
‘I knew you wouldn’t make this easy.’ Fin pushed himself off the couch and walked around the back of it. ‘Christ, Michael, we were like brothers. Why would you dig all this shit back up?’
Because the fury he’d felt sixteen years ago had been deserved, but that conflict was old, and how a man felt about something now didn’t compare well with how he felt about it as a teenager. He’d needed to say something, but it was all coming out wrong.
Fin rested his hands on the back of the couch and hung his head.
‘I’m not here to talk about the past,’ Fin said. ‘I burned my bridge with your family, and I accepted that. You asked me to stay away, and I have done. I’m only here because of the girl, and I wouldn’t even be here for her if I had a viable alternative. Promise me you’ll help her, and I’ll walk out that door. You never have to see me again.’
‘I’ve already said—’
‘No, not just for a preliminary session.’
The last promise he’d made Fin was when they were eight, and Michael had walked in on Fin changing for sport in the school toilets. Up until then, he hadn’t understood why Fin had always done that. After that, he’d been sworn to secrecy. It was a promise he should never have honoured, but he’d been young, Fin had been his best friend, and Michael hadn’t known any better.
‘I can’t promise.’ Michael wouldn’t say the words if he couldn’t mean them.
‘Dammit, Michael, this girl needs your help! Don’t you even care?’
‘Of course—’
‘You haven’t changed at all. Always so bloody cautious, so responsible. You were thirty even when you were ten.’
‘Insulting me isn’t going to help you.’
‘You make it so easy, though.’ A lopsided smile tugged on Fin’s lips. Years may have passed, but Michael recognised the expression immediately. Just like that he was hurled back to when they were young, they teased each other, and the words came easily. Damn, he’d missed that. He’d missed Fin and that feeling of a bond so tight no one could get in the way of it. They had been like brothers. Some part of Michael had forgotten what that had felt like.
Michael allowed himself a small smile. ‘I’ll help if I can, I owe you that much, but it’s more complicated than you’re imagining.’
‘No, it isn’t, not to her. Look, this girl keeps everything in. She’s an island, and the things she’s keeping inside could tear her apart. I can’t sit and watch that happen like I…’
Fin’s gaze dropped to the coffee table and his grip on the back of the couch tightened. He took a moment, shook his head as though he could shake the thoughts free, but the words, whatever they were, went unspoken.
‘She won’t open up unless she knows she can trust you,’ Fin said. ‘Our friendship, that personal connection, has given her that. It’s allowing her to take this step, and she needs it. I won’t be able to get her to sit down with anyone else.’ There was an unmistakable tone of desperation in those words. ‘Please, Michael. I’m not here on a whim. I’m here because there are no other options.’
It was nice to be wanted. ‘Fin, a teenage abuse victim might not want a male psychologist.’
‘That won’t matter to her.’
‘I’d feel better hearing that from her.’
‘If you don’t commit, you won’t get in a room with her, I promise you that.’
‘Threats, like insults, won’t work in your favour,’ Michael said.
‘I didn’t mean it as a threat,' Fin said. 'I’m trying to protect her. I’m all this girl has. Her mother is dead, she doesn’t know who her father was, her stepfather is dead, and I don’t know if she’s got any friends, but I don’t think so. This girl has no one,’ Fin’s eyes locked on Michael’s. ‘And I know what that’s like.’
The words hit their mark.
‘This girl has been hurt, betrayed, and rejected by everyone she’s ever known. She won’t talk to you for an hour only for you to turn her away once her time’s up. She’s open to the process, and she’ll cooperate, you have my word, but she has to know you’re committed too.’
Michael took a deep breath. He owed it to Fin to try, and he had more than enough slots available in his schedule. His hesitation lay in knowing that if it didn’t work out, he will have let Fin down again. Only this time, the damage would extend to this girl as well. He couldn’t let that happen. If he agreed to this, he had to do whatever it took.
‘What about the costs?’ Michael asked. ‘I know she’s a student, but I can’t do this as a favour.’
‘I wouldn’t ask that of you. You won’t lose out. I’ll see to it personally.’
Wow.
‘Look,’ Fin said, ‘I can guarantee I won’t say a word if she’s the reason this doesn’t work, but I need to know any unforeseen problem won’t come from you. Otherwise, I’m setting her up for another fall. I can’t do that to her.’
‘Fine, I’ll talk to her. Providing she’s all right with it, I’ll take her on, I promise.’
Fin let out a breath. ‘Thank you.’
Michael nodded.
‘Here’s my card. My address is on the back. Send your bills directly to me. If you need anything, you can reach me on this number.’ Fin walked around the couch and laid his card on the coffee table. ‘Day or night.’
Michael didn’t reach for it.
They looked at each other briefly before Fin moved towards the door. Michael didn’t get up to show him out. He didn’t even turn in his seat. Neither of them said goodbye.
They’d grown up together. They had been like brothers. But years had passed, and there was nothing left to say.
2
Fin parked the car next to Gail’s as his mobile rang. Kat. His stomach churned with nerves. Seeing Michael had been harder than he’d anticipated. Michael knew him better than anyone, and that familiarity had left Fin feeling vulnerable. He was a different man now to the boy he’d been then, and the last thing he wanted was for his past and his present to collide, but if Kat got out of it what she needed, it will have been worth it. He had to remind himself of that.
He put the phone to his ear and hoped for good news.
‘I’ve made an appointment,’ she said in greeting. ‘Three o’clock, today.’
That was sooner than he’d hoped.
‘I’ll see him twice a week at the start, maybe more.’
‘Excellent.’
‘He sounded kind of stuffy on the phone.’
‘He comes across that way in person too,’ Fin said with a grin. ‘Give him a chance.’ He’d checked there were no pending malpractice suits, but beyond that it was a matter of hoping Michael was good at what he did. ‘Try not to give him too hard a time.’
‘Like I did with you?’
Yeah.
‘You used to be friends, right?’
Fin’s stomach tightened. ‘Yeah.’ There was a time when Fin had fantasised about living in that house with Michael, as part of his family. He’d been young and desperate for a place he thought he might belong.
‘But you’re not anymore?’
‘I haven’t seen him in a few years.’ More than a few, but again, he was misleading, not lying. His heart was in the right place.
‘But you still trust him?’
‘You know I do.’ He’d already answered that question more than once.
She didn’t reply. She didn’t hang up either. Fin waited, worried she’d suddenly announce she wasn’t sure, or had changed her mind, or didn’t think she needed therapy after all. He knew what she’d gone through.
‘What can I tell him?’ Kat asked.
‘Everything.’
‘Even the illegal stuff?’
‘Everything, Kat. He can only help you if you open up to him, you know that, right?’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’
‘This is a good thing.’ Fin ran his thumb across his forehead.
‘I’m worried… that if I start, I won’t be able to stop.’ Her voice was quieter now, but the words speared his heart. ‘There’s so much inside me, Fin. Not even you know everything.’
He was aware of that.
‘How can I make him understand?’ she asked.
‘By telling him everything.’ Nerves were a good sign. If Kat didn’t want to open her mouth, she wouldn’t be scared of what might come out of it. ‘You’re going to have to trust he knows what he’s doing.’
‘That’s not easy.’
‘I know.’
A brief pause, then: ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘Yeah, OK, listen…’ He didn’t want to upset her, but he had to ask. He always asked. ‘Have you seen anyone hanging around?’
‘No.’
‘You’ve been checking though, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You don’t get in the car without checking the backseat. Look around before unlocking the door to the house, and take different routes home.’
‘I know, Fin. I haven’t seen anyone. Have you?’
‘No.’ But he didn’t worry about himself nearly as much. Brice was a brutal sociopath, and he wanted revenge for what they’d stolen from him. If he were in Brice’s shoes, Fin would go after the girl to get it. Kat was strong, and she was brave, but she was also a newly turned seventeen-year-old, and Fin was ex-military.
‘You’ll be careful, right?’ Fin thought of the letters that had been carved into the sensitive flesh of his forearm. These were not men to mess with.
‘Yeah, look, I’ve gotta go,’ Kat said. ‘Reset from now, right?’
‘Sure.’
‘Bye.’
Fin reset the timer that dominated his life, and rested the corner of the phone against his forehead. She’d said she’d be careful. He didn’t feel any better.
Comments
Interesting start!
Well-written, a lot of mystery and intrigue to figure out. Definitely makes me want to read more!