Author's Note:
Here's a nice long chapter, with another to follow toward the end of the week. Reviews are always appreciated!
Jamie loitered just outside of the Liberal Democrat headquarters at 4 Cowley Street, working through his In Box on his Blackberry and keeping an eye on the door. A contact inside the Lib Dem office notified him that Fleming was in the building for a 13:00 meeting. It was nearing 14:00 now, and Jamie hoped to catch the fucker on his way out for a little tete-a-tete.
His meeting with Ollie before Nicola's press event had gone well. Together they managed to work up an approach to try to get Fleming to drop any further action against Malcolm. It wasn't much, Jaime knew, but it was all they had. He didn't know Fleming well enough to forecast his reaction. He might say 'so fucking what?' and go ahead leaking the Glasgow Daily articles to the press.
Jamie did feel badly for pulling Reeder into things. Before his conversation with Malcolm that morning, he really thought this was an opportunity for Ollie and him to unite against a shared enemy. But Malcolm's adamant words had ruined his perspective. It was frustrating. Time and time again, he'd be going down a path that he was sure was right, and then Malcolm would hold up a mirror and point out the risks.
When he met with Ollie and Ollie was fully engaged in the vendetta, Jamie couldn't help feeling like he was creating another potential Fleming. It struck him midway through their meeting, and it was too late to backpedal. He resolved to talk it through with Reeder after the dust settled to make sure he knew smear tactics were not the way to go moving forward. It reminded him of the many times when he was a kid and his father told him to never start smoking through the haze of his own cigarette smoke.
At any rate, he knew he needed to do this next bit alone. If it backfired, he didn't want it to come back on anyone but him. The last thing he wanted to do was to create further stress for Malcolm. He still got upset when he replayed this morning's phone conversation. The old bastard just sounded so beaten.
And he knew there was more to the story of why he left early from Morgan's party. He'd watched Sam and Malcolm talking in the car from the foyer window, and the man didn't look well. Sam's body language had conveyed extreme concern. Jamie worried about his health, and hoped they would have some answers soon. Equally as much, though, he worried that Malcolm was preparing to resign. And he wasn't ready for that.
From the cafeteria, they headed up to the sixth floor to meet with Doctor Jacobs, the counsellor Doctor Ravi recommended. Malcolm was visibly nervous in the waiting room, randomly picking up and flipping through magazines and obsessively checking his watch. Sam patiently filled out the paperwork. Finally, the receptionist called them to go back to the doctor's office.
The first appointment went well, Sam, thought. It was really more of a consultation than a counselling session. After introductory handshakes all round, the doctor offered coffee, which they both declined, and then sat at his desk. Malcolm and Sam took the two chairs on the other side of the desk.
"So, I understand that you're having some challenges you'd like to work through related to your childhood. As a general practice, I like to get to know my patients a little up front so I understand a little more about your situation, goals, and how we can work best together."
When Malcolm didn't say anything, Sam chimed in. "That sounds good." She clasped his hand. It was sweaty and trembling. Poor dear.
"So Malcolm, tell me a little about yourself. I know you're in government, though I admit I'm not too clear on your role."
Malcolm cleared his throat and seemed to come out of his paralytic coma. "I'm the Director of Communications for the Prime Minister. Basically, I work with the PM to develop and implement communications related to his initiatives and then work with all the ministers to make sure everything's on point."
"So that's what an enforcer is. I'd seen the term before, I think even associated with you, but I never really knew what that was."
Malcolm leaned back and grinned a little. "Well, it's a bit more than that, but at a high level, that's the position. It's also managing emergent situations from a communications perspective. Working with the media and such." Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Jacobs had honed in on what was probably the only topic that might help Malcolm feel more comfortable.
"I imagine that keeps you pretty busy."
"Aye, it's never dull. You never know what's going to happen next, but you've got to be ready for it."
"Fascinating."
"Doc, I've never seen a counsellor before, so I don't know how this works. I am a public figure, so just coming here is risky. If the press found out I was seeing a shrink, it would be all over the papers. I need some assurance that anything I tell you won't leave this room.
Jacob's expression was professional. "Of course. Thanks for raising that. Anything you say in here stays with me unless you give me express permission to share it, for example, with another doctor. My notes stay in the file cabinet, which I keep locked. It's critical that my patients feel safe enough to talk to me openly about anything they need to. I think of it as a privilege that people tell me things they wouldn't tell anyone else, and take their privacy very seriously."
Malcolm nodded, taking it in, but obviously trust would have to be earned.
"So, when Sam called to make the appointment, she filled me in a little about what's been going on." Sam nodded, suddenly feeling nervous herself. She worried that Malcolm would think she'd told Jacobs about everything, when she'd only given a very high-level view of the current situation.
"I understand from Sam you were hospitalised recently with pneumonia, and in the course of your treatment or perhaps from other events, some old memories have been triggered, and you've had some difficulty as a result. Is that correct?"
Malcolm nodded. "I suppose you could put it that way. I've always tried to deal with the present. That's the only place you can make a difference, right? Never seen any up-side to dwelling on the past." Sam saw his attention visibly shift inward. He broke eye contact with Jacobs and had a thoughtful expression. When he next spoke, Sam heard the telltale signs of emotion in his voice.
"But just lately, I've had some things happen that churned things up. And now I find I don't have much control over it. I have nightmares. Always had those, but now I have them all the time.
"Yesterday I had something else happen. I was at a party, watching what was going on and all of a sudden I was six years old again and back in Glasgow. It felt so real. And it happened in an instant. I can't imagine that's a good thing." Sam squeezed his hand again. She knew this was hard for him.
Jacobs sat back in his chair, which creaked. "I understand from Sam that you had a difficult childhood. She didn't go into detail, but thought I should know. Can you tell me a little about it?"
Malcolm took a deep breath. Sam knew he was getting tired of talking about it.
"My father was abusive. He did some pretty horrible things."
"Are you an only child?"
"No. I'm the oldest of three. My sister, Julia, is five years my junior. And my brother, Duncan, was born when I was twelve. He died when he was two years old at my father's hands."
"I'm very sorry to hear that. How did it happen?" Jacob's tone was sincere. Malcolm sighed. With the exception of the night they had looked at the trial coverage together, Sam had never heard Malcolm talk about Duncan's death.
"From the news coverage, it turns out my father bound him and force-fed him cleaning agents, and then left him to die. It's possible he watched. I dunno."
Jacobs didn't say anything. Sam glanced up at Malcolm. His eyes were very distant and downcast. The silence went on for a while. Malcolm finally cleared his throat and continued.
"I remember waiting up back at the flat while my Mum and Da were at hospital with Duncan. Then they came home and told us. From there I have no memory of what happened, but apparently I beat my Da badly enough that he was in hospital for several days. I came to myself in gaol. I couldn't lift my right arm because I'd hit him so hard." Malc still had that strange, distant look. Sam squeezed his hand. He didn't squeeze back.
"What happened then?" Jacobs primed. Malcolm shook himself, as if to cast off a nightmare.
"They kept me for a few days. There was a caseworker who came by and asked me questions. They examined me and found a lot of bruises from my Da. Turns out Julia-my sister, that is, had gone to our Gran and told her everything. Gran took her to talk to the police. After that, they released me, and Julia and I went to live with Gran in Perth during the inquiry. My father was convicted for killing Duncan. He died in prison. I never visited him."
"It sounds like you had a very eventful childhood. How do you find that's effected you?"
"Two weeks ago, I would have told you that it didna effect me at all. No, wait. Two weeks ago, I wouldna have even admitted any of it happened. But now it's always coming up. I canna get away from it. I dinna feel safe." Sam could hear tears in his voice and her eyes welled up.
"Give me some examples of how it's effecting you now."
Malcolm swiped at an eye. "Well, there are the nightmares, like I mentioned. There's one in particular that I've had since I was six. It's so bad I come out of it fighting. I even hit Sam once accidentally.
"It's a strain on our marriage." Sam started to protest but Malc stopped her with a shaky hand on her arm. "We've been married ten years, and all this time I never told Sam anything about my childhood. Wouldna consider having kids, though I know she wanted them. Had surgery so I couldna have kids. She only just heard about that last bit."
"I have some scarring in my lungs from something my Da did to me. It's causing problems. Getting a biopsy next week."
"And recently some little limp-dick tosser got a hold of the press coverage from my father's trial when I was fourteen. He's going to get it out in the media, I think. Wants to get me out of Number Ten. It's a vendetta.
"Because of that, I finally came forward to the police about something I witnessed when I was a kid. Talking to the CID's really got me in a state. The more I talk to them, the more I remember. It's crowding everything else out."
"What are you feeling right now?" An angry tear rolled down Malcolm's cheek. He wiped it away impatiently.
"What does it feel like? Like my whole fucking world is ending, that's what. Every time I think it's over and things are going to get back to normal something else happens and brings it all up again. And now people know about it. Sam. Julia, Jamie, my mate. Julius. Even the fucking Prime Minister knows. I hate it. Soon everyone will know and there will be lots of swirl. Press attention. Speculation about me. I could end up out of a job over it."
In the course of this recitation, Malc's breathing had picked up. Sam felt his pulse throbbing in the hand she was holding. The vein at his temple was standing out. He armed perspiration from his brow.
Jacob watched all this without comment. When it was clear Malcolm couldn't go on, Jacobs spoke up. "I'd like you to lean back and do some deep breathing." Sam noticed that Malcolm was sitting on the edge of his chair, leaning forward, obviously tense. He seemed to become aware of it as well, and leaned back with an explosive sigh. "Why don't you close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing. Try to slow it down."
Malcolm's face showed his judgment. "What, are you going to fucking hypnotise me?"
"Just try to relax and breathe for a minute. You should start to feel better soon."
Sam rubbed Malc's forearm while he did as the doctor said, leaning back in the chair and breathing slowly. Sam could feel the tension leave his arm and saw his shoulders and neck relax. Jacobs took notes, glanced at his watch, and then returned his attention to Malcolm.
"How are you feeling now?" Malcolm opened his eyes.
"Better, I think. Not so stressed."
"That's good. I'm glad to hear it."
"So, where do we go from here, Doc?"
Jacob considered a moment before responding. "Before we go there I'd like to process what you just shared. It sounds like there are a lot of things going on. You've worked hard to forget about your childhood. You've done such a good job of divorcing yourself from what happened when you were a kid that even you don't know the whole story. And now you've got some significant stressors that are triggering vivid memories. We call those flashbacks.
"And it sounds like you've got some immediate needs. Certainly your health and the biopsy, and also this threat of your past becoming public knowledge and used against you. And also seeing this police investigation through.
"I think we should spend some time today on those immediate needs, and then firm up plans for another visit.
"Earlier, when I asked you how your past is effecting you now you said you didn't feel safe. I can see why. You've got this past that you've protected and covered up your whole adult life. And now you're facing it on three fronts. The medical front, where you can no longer ignore that what your father did to you had lasting effects. The social one, where people who have seen you a certain way will suddenly learn things about you that will change their perception of you. As a public figure, that's got to feel scary."
"No fucking kidding." Jacob ignored the expletive.
"And then having to sacrifice safety to come forward as a witness. We'll call that social responsibility. Again, as a public figure that's huge. I can't imagine what that's like, and I admire your bravery."
Malcolm looked surprised at that.
"So now we've got to figure out what you can do given those situations to reduce the stress around them and create a little safety for yourself." Jacobs turned to Sam.
"Sam, you've been co-voyaging through all this with Malcolm. What's your perspective on things?"
Sam felt a little caught out. She wasn't expecting the question.
"That's a big question, doctor. I don't really know what to say. Malcolm's been through a lot. We've been through a lot. It's been hard. I want to step in and fix everything and there's not a thing I can do. I'm very worried about Malcolm's health and what all this upheaval is doing to him. I'm scared about what happens from here. But I'm so relieved he's finally talking to me about things and letting me in."
"Is there anything you want to tell Malcolm right now?" Sam did. Her eyes filled with tears as she turned towards him.
"Malcolm, I'm so proud of you for coming forward to the police and allowing yourself to remember all this old hurt. It's not fair that you had to go through all that alone. I wish I could've been there for you when you were a kid dealing with all that. I wish I could make your lungs better. I wish I could make Steve stop trying to ruin your life. But I can't." After a good cry she managed to pull herself together. Malcolm dug out his handkerchief and pressed it into her hand. His eyes were also red-rimmed.
"Malcolm, it's clear that Sam is behind you all the way. What can she do to help you create some safety?"
"She's already doing it."
"Why don't you tell her." Malcolm turned to her and clasped her hand.
"There's no way I could've gotten through everything that's happened without you, Sam. You are my angel. You take such good care of me, even though I'm such a bastard. I don't deserve you. Thanks for sticking with me all these years when I wasn't talking about things, and now that it's all coming out."
"What do you need from Sam?"
"Please don't give up on me. Things are hard right now, but I want things to go back to the way they were. I want to take care of you and show you how much I love you." He fingered her wedding ring. Sam struggled not to lose it again.
"Sam, what do you need from Malcolm?" This time, Sam was anticipating the question.
"I need you to take care of yourself. I'm scared for you, and I don't want to lose you. All these years, you've put work first, and me next, and you last. During this last reshuffle, I was worried about you and didn't step in and then you collapsed. You nearly died. I can't go through that again. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I want you to feel better and treat yourself better."
"Malcolm, what do you have to say about that?"
Malcolm sighed. The look of remorse on his face told the whole story. "I'm sorry about all this, Sam. I know I need to take better care. I'm trying. And I heard what the doc said about gaining the weight. I'll do better."
Jacob referred back to his notes. "You mentioned a few other people who know about your childhood. One of them was your friend, Jamie."
"Yeah. He's my second at work, but we're also friends."
"So what can you ask Jamie to do to help you feel more safe during the current crisis?"
"Again, he's already doing it. He's the one who organised my meeting with the police and some friendly press as a contingency. He's always offering to help. But I worry about him. He's got his own challenges to attend to."
"Have you talked to him about how you're feeling about everything." Malcolm snorted.
"Nae. It's not a fuckin bromance. We're mates. We don't talk about stuff like that." Sam found that interesting. She was pretty sure they did talk about stuff like that. Or at least Jamie did.
"It sounds like he's a good friend. You've trusted him with a lot. How do you think he'd react if you told him you were worried about things?"
"I think he'd go pound the shit out of Steve Fleming, that's what I think. Oh, that's the limp-dick tosser I mentioned before. Jamie tends to get a little over-protective and fly off the handle. I wouldna want to say anything that would touch him off. I'll think about it, doc, but I've got to be careful." Something in doctor Jacob's eyes shifted. Sam wondered if he was filing something away to explore in a later session.
"So you've got Sam and Jamie as your support system. Anyone else?"
"I've got Julia, my sister. She was here when I was in hospital. But she's got two kids and lives in Edinburgh." Sam couldn't help jumping in on that.
"Malc, Julia would do anything for you." Malcolm winced, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of putting anyone out.
"Anyone else?"
Malcolm thought about it. "There's also Julius. A co-worker. He's been very helpful during some of the recent unpleasantness. More than I would have expected."
"I bet if you thought about it, you could come up with even more people who would be happy to help you." Jacob let that sink in before continuing.
"Sometimes it's hard to see that people who care about you are genuinely happy to help because the idea of asking for help feels scary."
"I don't want to be a burden. It's not fair to Sam and Julia and Jamie that they've had to drop everything for me. I feel like I can never make it up to them."
"Malc, no one's asking you to make anything up. There's nothing to make up for."
"Between now and when we next meet I would like you to consider who's on your support team. And I'm a part of your support team, too."
"Yes, but you're paid to do it."
"True. So that means you don't have to worry about putting me out or owing me something." Malcolm grunted at that. Good point, Sam mused.
"I would like to see you again early next week. Check with my receptionist on the way out to make the appointment." Jacob scribbled something on a prescription blank, tore it off and pushed it across the desk to Malcolm. Malcolm looked at it speculatively.
"That's an order for an anti-anxiety medication. It will help you manage during stressful situations like that flashback you had. It also might help you sleep. Let's try that for a week and see if it helps."
"No, Doc. I'm drawing the line there. I donna take happy pills. Sorry. But that deep breathing helped earlier, so thanks. I'll do that more."
"Malc-" As expected, Malcolm cut her off.
"No, Sam, I willna do it. It's just an escape."
"Malcolm." Jacob waited until Malcolm calmed down and gave his full attention.
"Remember earlier when I asked Sam what she needed from you and she said she needed you to take better care of yourself?"
"Yeah, but-"
"This is part of that. It's just temporary, to help with your current stressful situations. You're having flashbacks and nightmares that are so bad once you even hit your wife. Do you want to take the chance of that ever happening again?"
Malcolm took a moment to respond, obviously chastened. "Of course not. No. Sorry. I'll try the meds. But just a week."
"We'll see where we are in a week."
Jacob walked them out to reception and shook both of their hands again. They made Malcolm's next appointment and headed downstairs to the chemist.
