Kim knew she had to say something about their last meeting when she had been less than graceful about Alex’s success in keeping Barry Grant on the ledge.
‘Listen, about the other night …’
Alex held up her hand and laughed. ‘Please don’t say anything. I’m not at all sure I could accept any kind of compliment from you.’
Kim marvelled at Alex’s assumption that she was about to offer a compliment. Of course, whatever else could Kim have been about to say?
This was a different Alex to the ones she’d seen previously. The first visit she had been professional and severe with a hint of coyness for Bryant’s benefit. At the cemetery she had been introspective and vulnerable. With Barry, Alex had been proactive and driven. Right now she seemed almost playful and flirtatious.
‘I need to be sure this conversation goes no further,’ Kim stated.
To appeal to the doctor’s curiosity, Kim had told Alex that there were issues she’d like to discuss but she couldn’t have a registered visit on her record. Any other psychiatrist would have told her to get stuffed, but she had not been surprised at Alex’s generous donation of her time. Alex wanted something from her but she still wasn’t sure what.
‘Of course, Kim. As far as I’m concerned this is no more than two acquaintances having a chat over coffee, talking of which, I’m guessing white, no sugar?’
Kim nodded. It occurred to her that Alex had stripped her of her title without even asking for permission. Few people called her Kim. It made her a little uncomfortable but under the pretext of the visit she couldn’t complain.
As Alex placed the coffee on the table between them, Kim realised that when Alex had told her to sit, she had been standing in front of the only other available chair, forcing Kim to sit in the patient chair. Kim knew she was going to have to be careful.
‘So, what can I help you with?’
Kim chose her words carefully. ‘When we were talking at the cemetery, you said some things that got me thinking.’
Kim raised her eyes. Someone less astute might have missed the triumph that emerged momentarily in Alex’s expression, quickly replaced by an apologetic shake of the head. But Kim noted it all.
‘I’m so sorry. I should never have spoken the way I did. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I have few friends and I suppose a place like that amplifies your vulnerabilities.’ Alex smiled and tipped her head back. ‘Additionally I think you are a very easy person to talk to.’
Again with the flattery, Kim thought. Fortunately she was impervious to it, especially when she herself knew she possessed the warmth and charm of a Middle Eastern dictator.
Kim just nodded and remained silent, forcing Alex to continue.
‘None of us are perfect. We all have insecurities, but usually we hide our weaknesses from those around us for fear it might diminish their respect. Take yourself, for example, whatever you wish to discuss is something you probably wouldn’t share with your work colleagues.’
Alex was right. She had arranged this meeting under the pretext of discussing sleep disorders and although it was nothing more than a ruse it was a problem that she didn’t share with anyone.
Kim sipped her coffee, again forcing Alex to keep talking.
‘A woman in your position, with authority over a team formed predominantly of males can’t afford to show vulnerabilities. You probably think your team would respect you less and so you work harder to hide any weaknesses. Their opinion of you may not affect your ability to do your job but their validation and respect is imperative to you for more reasons than you care to admit.’
Kim decided it was probably a good idea to stop the doctor talking right about now. Her theory was a little too close for comfort.
‘You talked about sleep disorders. I could use some advice on that.’
‘Oh, Kim, I’m sorry. I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. I apologise. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.’
Kim detected more amusement than sincerity in the words and recognised the prod as a mild rebuke: Do you see what happens if you keep me talking?
‘Not at all,’ Kim said, smiling. The forced expression felt alien on her face so she removed it.
‘Have you ever sought help for the problem?’
Kim shook her head. She wasn’t seeking a cure. She’d given up on that many years ago. No, she was here for one reason; to establish Alex Thorne’s guilt or any involvement in a crime.
Alex settled back into her chair, crossed her legs and smiled. ‘Well, the good news is that people who suffer with insomnia have a higher metabolic rate and tend to live longer than people who sleep for seven to eight hours per night. Severe insomnia is classed as less than three and a half hours per night.’
‘That’s me.’
‘Have you tried any of the remedies, like dark therapy or cognitive behaviour therapy? Have you carried out sleep hygiene?’
Kim shook her head. All things she’d read about but never bothered to try. Getting help for her sleep disorder was not her reason for coming.
‘You see, there are different types of insomnia. Difficulty in falling asleep often comes from anxiety. Some people go to sleep okay but keep waking during the night and others rise very early regardless of the time they go to sleep.’
‘I can’t go to sleep,’ Kim said, honestly. It didn’t hurt to offer a small amount of information.
‘That can be a symptom of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. There can exist a paradoxical intention to try and stay awake.’
‘Trust me, I want to sleep.’
Alex looked thoughtful. ‘How long ago did the problem start?’
‘Years ago,’ she answered, vaguely. The truth without the timeline.
‘Have you heard the term somniphobia?’
Kim shook her head and tried to keep her breathing even. Perhaps this had not been such a good idea after all.
‘It’s an abnormal fear of sleep, often established in childhood, following a trauma.’
Kim could swear that the doctor’s voice lowered slightly, gently. Or she could just be completely paranoid. The words childhood and trauma were spoken more like a whisper.
‘No, it was in college, I think.’
The doctor said nothing.
Kim spoke with a half-smile. ‘My childhood was pretty normal; loved sweets, hated cabbage, normal arguments with parents about staying out too late.’
Alex smiled at her and nodded.
‘I think it might have been the stress of exams.’
Just in time, Kim realised the doctor had used her own technique of remaining silent against her. Luckily she’d realised before she’d revealed any truth of her childhood at all.
‘You know, Kim, it’s surprising how many times you used the word “normal”. Most people say that about their childhood and yet there is no such thing unless you live in a television commercial. What did your parents do?’
Kim thought quickly and chose the sixth set of foster parents. ‘My mum worked part-time at Sainsbury’s and my dad was a bus driver.’
‘Any siblings?’
Kim’s mouth dried and she only trusted herself to shake her head.
‘No major losses or traumatic events before the age of ten?’
Again, Kim shook her head.
Alex laughed. ‘Then you truly did have a charmed childhood.’
‘How soon after the loss of your family did your sleeping problems start?’ Kim asked, diverting the conversation from herself. Perhaps she would learn something if the doctor started talking about herself.
Alex appeared momentarily surprised, but she recovered well. Her eyes glanced back to the photo on the desk and her voice was barely audible. Kim watched with renewed interest, now knowing the family never existed.
‘Losing Robert and the boys almost destroyed me. Robert was my soulmate. Unlike yourself we’d both had troubled childhoods and were drawn to each other. We tried for two years before Mitchell was born. He was quiet and sensitive. Nineteen months later came Harry who was the complete opposite of his brother.’ Alex looked at her, tears reddening her eyes. ‘My family was complete and then one day wiped out by a tired lorry driver who walked away with a broken wrist.’