The Apartment - K. L. Slater Page 0,37

in on my beloved Douglas, fast asleep on the bed we share. His thumb is in his mouth and his face belongs to an angel. I lean forward and kiss his blond head, relishing his sleepy warmth.

I love my boy, I only want the best for him. The professor is an intelligent man, a respected academic. As Rosalie says, I must not worry, he is entirely proper and professional in his intentions.

When I come out of the room, I see that Dorothy is watching me. ‘You look troubled, Bea. What’s wrong?’

I quickly alter my expression, I was not aware I have been wearing my concern so blatantly.

Dorothy has a muscle-wasting disease that is getting rapidly worse. Soon she will be forced to give up her job as a housemaid and my wages will need to support us all.

The last thing I want to do is worry her, but still, it feels good to talk to someone. ‘Professor John B. Watson is an eminent psychologist at the hospital,’ I begin. ‘He has written some very important medical research papers and sits on the board. He is very well thought of by the directors of the hospital.’

Dorothy nods. ‘He sounds like an important and respected man. Have your paths crossed?’

I give a troubled sigh. ‘I have agreed he can do some kind of a study on Douglas. It’s the second session tomorrow and . . . well, the study seems quite harmless, but Dougie has been unsettled since my first visit. Fractious and gloomy.’

‘What sort of things happen in the sessions?’

‘Well, he shows Dougie a rat and some other things and makes a loud noise. It doesn’t sound much I know but it startles him and—’

‘I don’t really see the problem.’ Dorothy shrugs. ‘I’m sure the professor knows what he’s doing.’

But Douglas isn’t just one of the poor hapless rats I’ve seen caged in the labs. Douglas is my son.

You replace the journal in its rightful place on the antique oak writing desk before removing the cotton gloves and listening to the professor speak.

1920 Johns Hopkins University Hospital, Baltimore

Extract from the confidential case study diary of Professor J. Watson

OVERVIEW

The mother of Little Albert reports that the child has been rather more fractious than normal since his visit.

He appears slightly thinner but still of a mild, fairly content temperament. Beatrice, the mother of the child, is to remain present during the sessions. Session two takes place in a controlled environment, the private office of myself, Professor John B. Watson. Also present is Dr Rosalie Rayner and Beatrice, the subject’s mother.

STAGE THREE

Little Albert is again presented with a single stimulus: the rat.

As he reaches for it, a steel bar behind him is hit. The noise is loud and jarring. This identical procedure is repeated three times.

Albert is then presented with the rat alone with no accompanying noise.

Two more presentations with the rat and the noise are made, followed by a final repeat of presenting the rat alone.

Total rat with noise procedures completed: 7.

BASELINE REACTIONS:

Following all presentations (with and without accompanying noise), Albert finally reacted to the rat alone by immediately crying. He pre-empted the noise.

He turned to the left and crawled quickly away from the rat towards his mother. Session two is concluded.

Subject’s mother is instructed to return to the office in five days’ time.

22

As Lewis and Janine took their seats opposite me in the lounge, I couldn’t think of anything else but why Lewis seemed so suddenly desperate to speak to me. More to the point, why he’d brought her into the sanctity of what used to be our family home.

Instead, I silently berated myself that after getting back from lunch at Brenna and Viv’s, I’d changed out of my best jeans and pale pink cashmere-mix sweater and pulled on some baggy old sweatpants and a grubby-looking T-shirt.

My eyes narrowed as I studied Janine, elegant as ever in her trademark Armani jeans and pristine white silk blouse. She’d had her glossy brown hair newly highlighted, too. Half a dozen new buttery shades that seamlessly blended together to give a flattering frame to her immoveable face.

It seemed even Lewis didn’t do casual any more, judging by the Paul Smith sweater he’d paired with taupe chinos. No evidence at all of the scruffy combat shorts and battered lime-green Crocs he used to favour when he wasn’t working.

The two of them perched on the edge of their seats. I felt gratified to see they looked as if they were suddenly on the back foot a bit.

Janine