‘No. But I might – do it wrong. I might get things wrong, and that would be worse…’
‘There are no wrong decisions. You can decide this, and feel better about everything. It’s a decision you can make. The decision is completely in your hands. You have the power to do this, and the strength to do it.’
‘I suppose so,’ she said.
‘There is always peace,’ I said, softly. ‘Peace, and quiet, and an end to all the pain. You can choose for it to be painless, and quiet, and completely on your terms. It’s for you to choose.’
From a purely technical aspect, it really is that simple. The techniques I’ve learned – language patterns, inducing a trance state and a heightened relaxation state in people purely through conversation – were the easy part all along. It’s just a case of listening closely to what they are telling you, not just with their words but far more importantly with their bodies, with their eyes, with their movements and shifts and subtle changes in tone. It isn’t rocket science (an inexcusable cliché), but nor is it pseudo-science. It’s reassuringly easy when you know how.
You want to know how I do it, don’t you? I can imagine it, your fervent interest, your curiosity that others might describe as morbid: I can see it in the sparkle in your eyes. Well, ask me, then. Go on. I know you’re dying to…
In any case, I can’t and shan’t reveal the details. Do you think I stumbled upon this overnight? Do you think this level of awareness is something everyone can master? It’s a long, slow process, not just the learning of the techniques required but the effort involved in tailoring that same process to the individual concerned. It starts with a simple conversation, but this is just the first of many such meetings, many such conversations. The hard part is knowing if they are ready, and spotting the ones who are close enough to make it work.
I’m not sure if Leah is quite at that point, and I am thinking about leaving her for a few weeks, maybe trying to reconnect with her after a time. She will go one way, or the other. If she chooses the right path, then I will be ready for her.
Sometimes I meet people who aren’t ready, and I leave them to continue on their own. If they need me later on, then I shall find them again.
It’s not as if I don’t have others to look out for, in any case.
Annabel
On Monday morning I got to work feeling empty. The sky was dark grey, threatening rain, like the inside of my heart.
Kate was off today, which meant it was just me and Trigger. I wasn’t in the mood for him today, Trigger and his ever-changing moods, cheerful one minute and grumpy the next. But the office was deserted. As usual, the milk carton I’d bought on Friday and used once only was empty in the fridge. I needed a cup of tea, and the theft of the milk, such a petty thing, made me want to cry. It was the early turn, probably, who started work long before the shops opened, and needed a drink to keep them going through the dark hours before dawn. But that was no excuse for being too lazy or thoughtless to bring in their own milk. The fridge in the kitchen that served the management corridor actually had a padlock, and that was the reason.
I made a cup of green tea instead and logged into the system. I opened my email. Twenty-four new messages since I’d logged off last night. Where did they all come from?
I scrolled down, looking for ones that were interesting, and my eyes were drawn to one name: Sam Everett. I ignored it, working my way through all the intelligence reports and requests to log out of systems I didn’t use anyway because they were going to reboot the servers. There was an email from the Force’s Recreation Association asking me to join the monthly lottery, an email about a sergeant from Tactical Operations who was planning to run a marathon in Tibet and wanted sponsorship, and a request for additional copies of the bi-monthly Violence Profile from two people who had just joined the Strategic Planning Department.
That was it. I couldn’t put it off any longer. Sam Everett – newsdesk, Briarstone Chronicle. The title