An Impossible Dilemma: A Psychological Thriller Novel (14 page)

Chapter 17

Doctor Wilson's appointment came round in a flash.

Frank came with us this time. Just last night I’d confessed about Emily’s improving health having a time limit. He’d been distraught and I felt terrible for not telling him sooner, but I hadn’t found the right time.

In the reception of the Neurology department, Emily and Diane were going through the special toy box. To my relief, Diane didn’t ask about the stealing. I didn’t want to admit Emily now stole anything that took her fancy.

Stephanie had lost make-up and costume jewellery from her bedroom. Emily had brought a bracelet home from school, plus a calculator and two more mobile phones.

The school counsellor said Emily showed classic signs of kleptomania, a compulsive disorder. She said a sufferer will have a sense of tension or anxiety before stealing, a relief or gratification during the actual event, followed by feelings of guilt afterwards. Then they would often discard the stolen items, which is what Emily did, stashing them in odd places before forgetting all about them. She acted shocked when they showed up, as though she couldn’t remember taking them.

I found myself forever apologising to people and returning their belongings.

Doctor Wilson came into reception. “Mrs Lyons, would you like to come through?”

I jumped up, surprised out of my daydream. “What about Emily?” I asked.

“Leave her with Diane, if you like, for a couple of minutes.”

Diane nodded.

“Won’t be long, baby.”

“Okay, Mummy.”

I helped Frank up off the low chair, and followed the doctor into his office.

“This is my father-in-law, Frank Lyons.”

They shook hands. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Lyons. Take a seat,” he said as he settled into his leather chair. “Well, how is the little marvel? She’s been the talk of the neurology department since your last visit.”

“She’s the same as last time, although I’ve noticed her speech slurs when she’s tired again. But still not as bad as before.”

“That’s good news. Have you noticed anything else?”

I shook my head.

“The stealing,” Frank said.

“I don’t think the stealing is connected to the illness.” I placed my hand on Frank’s, wishing he hadn’t mentioned it.

“Stealing?” Doctor Wilson scribbled in a file in front of him.

“Emily began stealing a while ago. She’s been seeing a counsellor who thinks she’s a kleptomaniac,” I said.

“Seems strange for such a young girl.” He put down his pen and glanced at us over the top of his glasses.

“Probably due to her father’s death—it began around the same time.”

“Possibly. Who knows how such a thing will affect a youngster,” the doctor said.

I nodded. “That’s what I thought.

“Right, I want to do the tests once again, to see how the results compare. Is that okay?”

I nodded.

“Good. You know the drill. If you go up to the ward, they’ll be expecting you. And I’ll see you back here later.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

We borrowed a wheelchair for Frank, the ward being a good fifteen-minute walk away on the other side of the hospital.

They were, as Doctor Wilson had said, expecting us, and we had the same nurse we’d had the previous times.

The day progressed smoothly with Emily in good spirits. She explained to Frank what she had to do in each test, and his presence was a welcome distraction for both of us.

“Hello again. Come in and take a seat,” Doctor Wilson said.

Frank shuffled into the office. It had been a long day, especially for him, and it showed on his face. He usually had an hour on the bed after lunch most days.

“Once again, we only have some of the results. But we can see that Emily is still showing a massive improvement since the first set of tests. However, there’s a significant change since last time but in the opposite direction I’m afraid.”

My heart dropped to my feet. I reached for Frank’s hand.

“Her reflexes are quite a bit slower, possibly because she’s tired today, or distracted—it could be for any number of reasons. You said you noticed her slurring. This also makes me think she’s on the decline again. But, as I said, the more detailed results are around a week away yet, so I’ll call you like last time?”

“Okay.” I wanted a more definite answer. “So in your opinion, right now, you think she’s getting worse again?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “Who can say at this stage? Emily has proven to be an exception in everything we know about this illness up to now. We’ll continue monitoring her and see how she goes.”

I had expected Emily would become sick again, but that didn’t ease the steel band around my heart. We were on board an emotional roller-coaster.

“Don’t be disheartened. Emily may surprise us again. As I said earlier, she’s already the talk of the Neurological unit and several other hospitals are also following her remarkable turnaround.”

I glanced at Frank, half-smiled and sighed. “Oh well, I guess we’ll wait to hear from you.” I stood up and held my arm out for Frank. “Oh, one last thing. I recently discovered I’m pregnant, and I remember you mentioning a sibling of Emily’s could have the same condition. Is there a test I could do?” I’d not mentioned my fears to Frank, having thought it best to come from the doctor.

Doctor Wilson gasped. Looking from me to Frank and back again, he sat back down and indicated I do the same.

I sat, my eyes boring into Doctor Wilson’s, dreading what I knew he’d say.

“Is the baby your husband’s?” he asked.

I nodded.

“As you know, this illness is extremely rare, but in a lot of cases, it does tend to run in children born of the same parents.”

“So there’s a chance the baby could be sick too?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Lyons, but the baby is most likely going to have the same condition as Emily.”

***

I could tell by the look on Frank’s face that he felt devastated, but he didn’t say a word, clearly concerned about my feelings more than his own.

My heart broke for him.

Frank and I walked out of Doctor Wilson’s office as though nothing had happened. Anybody watching us would never guess we’d received such devastating news.

We took Emily to McDonald’s, as promised.

Frank didn’t like fast food. He screwed his face up when he saw me watching him. “It’s tasteless.”

“Emily likes it, don’t you, Em?”

She nodded, as she played with this week’s toy. Her tongue stuck from the corner of her mouth comically as she concentrated on trying to make a plastic figure stand up on oversized feet.

“Can we go to the toyshop now?” Emily asked. I’d promised her a toy again if she lay still for her Lumbar puncture.

“I’m sure we can. So long as you didn’t take anything that doesn’t belong to you this time.” I smiled to soften my comment.

She shook her head but the expression on her face said different.

“Emily?”

She looked at Frank, her eyes filling up.

“Emily, what did you take?” I pressed.

She pulled a black pager out of her pocket.

“What the hell … Where did that come from?”

“I’m sorry, Mummy. Please can I have a toy? I didn’t mean it. I didn’t want to.”

“Then why did you?” I felt like tearing my hair out.

“I don’t know.”

Frank placed his hand on top of mine and shook his head slightly. “Where did you take it from, lass?”

“From the spaceship.”

The spaceship was what she called the scan.

“We’ll have to take it back,” I said.

“Oh no, please, Mummy. I promise I won’t do it again.” She sobbed, almost hysterical.

I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t a psychologist, but I thought if I made her admit what she’d done and to apologise, she might learn from it. So far, it hadn’t made the slightest bit of difference. I put my hand on my forehead and looked away, shaking my head and sighing deeply.

Frank wiped Emily’s face on a serviette. “Maybe if we take the pager back and Emily apologises, maybe we could still go to the toyshop?”

I shrugged. I’d run out of ideas. My instincts told me to say no, to punish her again, knowing if we rewarded this bad behaviour she’d never stop. But a niggling voice in my head kept saying,
let her have what she wants. She’s getting sick again and probably won’t be around for much longer
.

“Whatever, but you’ve got to promise me with all your heart you won’t do it again.” I pulled Emily to me and bent looking intently into her eyes.

“I promise.”

I knew she meant every word, but she obviously couldn’t help herself. I had no choice but to start frisking her everywhere we went. “Come on then, we’d better get a move on.”

***

Later that evening, with Emily in bed and Stephanie and Hector in the snug watching a movie, I tapped on Frank’s bedroom door before poking my head inside.

Frank sat upright in bed reading a paperback.

Jonathan had redecorated this room just before Emily became sick. The walls were papered in slate grey and white. The three-quarter bed had a deep pillow-topped mattress and the headboard featured wooden panels, painted white gloss. A very manly room, clean and uncluttered.

“Hi, Frank. Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to check you’re feeling all right. You were very quiet earlier.”

“Come in, come in.” Placing his book down, he removed his glasses before patting the bed to the side of him.

“Gosh, I need a stepladder to get up there,” I laughed.

“I prefer a high bed. My legs are long, so it’s easier for me to get up and down.”

I nodded. “I remember.”

He boinked the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Of course you do, you were there when I bought it.” He shook his head and laughed.

“I’ve been thinking about what the doctor said. About the baby and how Em …” I rubbed at my eyes. “It’s only a matter of time before she’s sick again.”

“I know, but it may take months before she’s as sick as she was before.”

“But all we went through. I’m sorry I forgot about the length of time it lasted. Why would I forget something as important as that?”

“Victoria, it doesn’t matter. If it gave us the tiniest amount of extra time with Emily, then I’d have still done it—wouldn’t you?”

I nodded. “I would.”

“Then stop beating yourself up over it. And don’t write Emily off just yet. She’s still okay for now, and who knows what’s around the corner.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “But what about the baby? I’ve been hanging out for this week’s ultrasound, just in case they can be definite with the date the baby was conceived. I’ve prayed every night that it’s Jon’s. So now what? If it is then it’ll probably have Emily’s illness. If it isn’t … well, if it isn’t …” I shook my head, unable to go on.

“Let’s wait for the ultrasound, then we can discuss the best way forward, lass.”

“Yeah you’re right, of course.” Taking Frank’s hand, I kissed his fingers.

An overwhelming love for this man made eyes fill with tears. I turned away, not wanting to upset him any more, and headed for the door.

“Goodnight, Frank.

“Goodnight, lass.”

Chapter 18

“Do you want me to go to the hospital with you?” Steph asked.

“Thanks, but Frank’s coming,” I smiled.

“Frank?” she said, tipping her head to the side, her eyes narrowing.

“I know it seems strange, but he asked—he’s excited about Jon’s baby.”

“I s’pose,” she shrugged. “Just a bit odd, taking your father-in-law to the scan. But hey, if it works for you.” She smirked.

I grabbed a cushion from beside me on the sofa and threw it at her. “Shut up, idiot.” I laughed.

“Make sure you get a photo. Our Carole got one when she went for a scan and you could see his little face really clearly.”

“Okay,” I got to my feet as I heard Frank coming down the stairs. “Em’s at Lyn’s, I’m not sure what time I’ll be back but if she …”

“I’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

***

Heavily pregnant women filled the waiting room. I held Frank’s hand as my pregnancy felt real for the first time.

I’d spent the morning on the Internet researching due dates. I’d worked out: Friday 17th January if it was Jon’s, Friday 24th January if it was Shane’s. I just needed confirmation from the scan.

However, I didn’t know what the hell I would do either way. If I found out the baby was Jonathan’s, it could mean going through this hell over again. And although I wouldn’t miss one single moment with Emily, I knew I wasn’t strong enough to do it a second time.

If the baby’s development tied in with Shane’s date I couldn’t imagine continuing with the pregnancy, despite being totally against abortion.

“We’re never away from hospital waiting rooms lately, are we, lass?” Frank said.

I smiled and shook my head.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be all right.”

“I don’t see how, Frank. If the baby’s Jon’s …” I shrugged. “But if not, then …”

“I know, I know, lass,” he said, putting his arm around me and pulling me close.

I must have looked a right sight, in a maternity hospital with a man more than twice my age. Several of the women gave us strange looks.

“Victoria Lyons,” a small Asian woman called.

I helped Frank to his feet before following her through to a room with pink walls that held nothing more than a bed, a monitor and a sink.

“Please climb up and undo your clothing. I’ll be back shortly,” the nurse said, pronouncing each word carefully. She shuffled around Frank and bobbed out of the door.

“They must think we’re together,” Frank laughed.

“Who cares what they think? It’s none of their business.”

I climbed onto the bed and lifted my loose green summer top up and pushed my elastic waited skirt down slightly.

Frank looked away, but I wasn’t a bit embarrassed. He’d seen me in worse states of undress than this one.

The nurse came back in and washed her hands. “My name is Flo, I am happy to meet you.”

“Hi, Flo. I’m Vic and this is my father-in-law, Frank.”

“Ah … your father-in-law.” She nodded.

Frank chuckled.

Flo bent down and produced a large white tube from underneath the bed. “This will be cold,” she said before squirting a large blob of gel onto my stomach.

When she switched the monitor on, a lot of static sounded from the speakers before settling into a rhythmic thumping sound as she placed a handheld device onto my stomach. My baby’s heartbeat.

I looked at Frank and he reached for my hand, his eyebrows furrowed.

Flo moved the device around and suddenly the screen was filled with an image of our baby.

My breath hitched. “Oh, Frank,” I said.

A tear ran down Franks face. He smiled and rubbed my hand again.

“Your baby has a very strong heartbeat,” Flo said. “And he’s wriggling.”

“He?” I asked.

“Oh, sorry. It’s too early to tell, I always say he,” Flo said.

She took a few measurements. “All seems perfect. Would you like a copy?”

“Yes, please,” I said. “Do you know when it’s due?” My heart almost stopped as I waited for her response.

“Yes, due date is twenty-first of January.”

It took a few moments for me to process the information. I don’t know why I was surprised. The dates she’d given me were slap bang in the middle of the ones I’d worked out for myself. I still had no clue who the father was.