‘Don’t be so silly,’ she said, as though he was five years old. ‘Now close your eyes and focus only on my voice.’
He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes.
She rolled up the right sleeve of her blouse. Without taking her eyes from his firmly closed lids, she began pinching the skin on her forearm with her left hand.
‘First of all, just relax and clear your mind. I’m going to help take some of the pain away.’
His face relaxed and his jaws slackened. Alex smiled as she rolled up the sleeve on her left arm. She continued talking to Shane in a calm, soothing voice as she dug a fingernail into the skin as hard as she could. She traced a line to her wrist. It was a diagonal line with the skin broken in places. Already it looked worse than it actually was.
‘You have to let your hatred go, Shane. I can help you put the past behind you. I can help to make you feel clean again.’
And she could if she chose to, but as she looked at her watch, she saw that she really didn’t have the time.
‘What are you doing to your arms, Alex?’
Damn, she’d taken her eyes off him for one second to glance at her watch.
He looked from her face to her reddened, scratched arms. Realisation began to dawn in his eyes.
A knock sounded at the door. Alex had been prepared for that. The personal attack alarm beside her desk had been pressed once before and it had worked perfectly. Shane jumped to his feet and headed towards the door that led into the hallway.
‘It’s okay, Shane. Just ignore it, they’ll go away.’
She knew full well that they wouldn’t.
Shane looked panicked. His gaze glued to her right arm.
Alex stood and positioned herself away from the door. ‘It’s okay, they’ll …’
The sound of her front door crashing in cut off her words.
Shane looked towards her, stunned and frightened. She ripped at her blouse, revealing her breasts. She shook her head to mess up her hair and pinched a red mark onto her cheek.
Two male police officers entered the room swiftly and took in the scene.
‘He … he … tried to rape me,’ she cried before her legs gave way. She fell against the wall. The taller officer reached out to steady her.
Shane’s gaze was darting between all three of them, no clue what had occurred. He really was pathetic. So easily fooled into believing she had any interest in helping him. He would never possess the skills to beat her.
‘I didn’t … I swear … I didn’t …’
The tall officer was inspecting the damage to her arms. ‘Cuff him,’ he said, guiding her to a seat. Shane’s eyes were fixed on her, his expression a picture of confusion.
Alex offered him a triumphant smile.
The realisation that he was headed straight back to prison registered on his face. He bucked against the handcuffs.
‘No, please, I can’t … you don’t understand … please … I can’t go back …’
Any type of violence from Shane after the crime he’d committed would unquestionably revoke his parole and she needed to know that this particular subject would never bother her again.
‘Tell them, Alex,’ he cried as the tears coursed over his cheeks. ‘Tell them I didn’t hurt you. Please, tell them I can’t go back.’
Alex rubbed at her forearms and looked away.
‘Goodbye, Shane,’ she whispered as the tall police officer led Shane to the car.
TWENTY-EIGHT
As Kim shut the car door, she still wasn’t sure why she’d come to this place. All she knew was that a face filled with uncertainty kept swimming before her eyes.
She walked through the double doors and stopped at a reception desk. A young girl with a shock of pink hair greeted her with a smile.
‘May I help?’
Kim was unsure how to respond. ‘I’ll just take a look.’
The girl nodded and pointed to another set of double doors. Kim headed through and her senses were assaulted. The smell was a mixture of disinfectant, dog food and faeces. A cacophony of barking erupted at the sound of a bell when she’d pushed the doors open.
The first cubicle held two Staffordshire bull terrier puppies; small, compact and solid. Kim didn’t stop. She passed a variety of sizes and breeds as she looked into each pen. The only other visitors were a young couple leaning down and cooing at a Jack Russell doing his best to impress. She carried on walking right down to the last cubicle; Siberia.
The dog lay in his basket. He raised his eyes but stayed where he was. Kim swore she saw a hint of recognition.
‘Oh, that’s Barney,’ said a voice behind her. She turned to find a portly middle-aged woman with tightly curled greying hair. The name badge told her she was being addressed by Pam. Underneath it said, ‘Volunteer’.
Kim made no reply and realised that Barney didn’t even have a name tag on his kennel.
‘Poor thing,’ the woman sighed. ‘He doesn’t even bother to get up and greet anyone. It’s like he’s given up.’
Situated in Siberia, without a name tag, Kim couldn’t help but wonder who had given up on whom. The woman carried on talking.
‘We were lucky to get him rehomed last time; it’s all but impossible now. He’s a bit difficult.’
‘Why?’ asked Kim, speaking for the first time.
‘He doesn’t like crowds.’ Check.
‘He doesn’t like kids.’ Check.
‘But he likes lots of love and fuss.’ Well, two out of three wasn’t bad.
‘Poor thing. He was treated badly as a puppy, and ’cos he doesn’t play well with kids or other dogs he’s been brought back countless times. A few of his owners tried to make him better. One employed a dog whisperer to try and help him.’
Kim raised one eyebrow. A bloody doggie shrink?
‘Nothing worked. In eight years he’s had as many homes. He’s a bit weird, but people just try and make him better and then end up disappointed. No one just accepts him for …’
‘I’ll take him,’ Kim said, surprising herself as much as the chatterbox beside her.
Barney’s head had lifted, as though echoing the portly woman’s next statement.
‘Are you sure?’
Kim nodded. ‘What now?’
‘Err … if you follow me we’ll go to reception and do the paperwork. I’m sure we can forego the home visit on this occasion.’
Kim followed the way she’d come. She guessed they were eager for the kennel. Barney was the only dog with a pen to himself.
Two forms and a debit card payment later, Barney was sitting in the back of her car with, she would swear, a bemused expression on his face. She still had no idea why she’d gone to see him, let along bring him home with her. Kim only knew that watching him being led away to uncertainty had stayed with her and the more she’d heard the volunteer speak about his social ineptness, the more the words had resonated within her. The offer of a new home had been out of her mouth before she could take it back.
The staff had been so surprised they’d loaded her car with his bed, toys, raw hide chews and two weeks’ supply of dog food. Kim thought they were so eager to be rid of him she could have pushed for a lifetime supply and they would have agreed.
‘Okay, boy, we’re here,’ she said, as she parked outside her house. He remained seated until she opened the car door and gripped his lead. She led him inside and removed the clip from his collar. Once the door was closed he covered every inch of the available floor space with his nose, his tail wagging.
Kim stood against the door. ‘Oh, Jesus, what have I done?’
The panic set in immediately. Her home had been invaded by another living creature. The enormity of her actions dawned on her. She was barely capable of taking care of her own basic needs, never mind anything else. She ate when she was hungry, she slept when her body dictated and she very rarely sought exercise voluntarily.