Charlotte

***

"I know you don't want to go out of the city," I said, "But I was wandering if you'd like to go outside."

"Outside?"

"Outside the building." I wondered for a moment if her father had gone insane and kept her in a basement.

"Just for a little while. Then we would come back."

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Ok."

I led the way down the corridor and she took my hand lightly but firmly, keeping her body close to mine. At each gate she hid herself partly behind my leg and kept her gaze down as I talked to the clerks. She was still afraid. But as I walked her slowly towards the main entrance, I realized it was not outside that she was afraid of. Her step became eager and her grip tightened in mine not in fear but in excitement. I paused on the main steps but she pulled me on, away from the building. When we had traversed half the park I made her stop.

"Hang on! Where are we going?" I laughed, but I could see instantly that it was the wrong question. She stood still, looking down, and I felt like she was shutting down again.

"Ok; sorry, bad question," I amended, "I didn't mean that anyway. You just seemed in a rush to get somewhere."

"Here," she said, sitting down abruptly on the grass, keeping her gaze averted.

"Here? In the park? Ok," I sat down next to her carefully, wondering what to do to bring her back. "It's nice on the grass. I like it here."

She nodded, picking at the grass like a horse with her fingers.

"Ok, so are we talking here or are we just enjoying the park? I don't mind, but I don't want to be trying to talk to you if you don't want me to."

She leaned her head on one hand and looked over to the right.

"It's ok," she said finally.

"Ok, what are we talking about then?"

She frowned in concentration.

"I don't know."

I looked around the park. It made me think of Sammy, waiting at home. He'd have loved to be in the park.

"What about dogs, do you like dogs?"

"Oh yes!" her eyes were suddenly alive.

"Have you got a dog?"

"No, but I met one called Timmy once, and he was nice!"

"Really? What kind of dog?"

"Ummm, a brown one, with longish fur, but not really long? Like you could out your fingers through it and still see them from the top, but not from the sides."

"He sounds a bit like my dog."

"You have a dog?" the disbelief was plainly evident.

"Yeah I do," I chuckled, "he's called Sam, and he has this ball he loves? He just goes nuts if you throw it for him."

"I really like dogs. Dad said we couldn't have a dog - oh!" she clamped her hands over her mouth. I'd forgotten Dad was a forbidden subject.

"Well, not everyone can have a dog," I went on as if everything was normal. "Not everyone likes dogs. But I don't know, I think they're really cool. Like when they come up to with their tail wagging, and their eyes are all like sparkly with happiness? I love that."

"Yeah I like that too," she said with a quick, anxious smile. I kept talking to give her time to compose herself, telling her all about Sam and what he did all day. By the end of the session, she was talking freely again. Well, as freely as she ever did.

"Well, we'd better get going. Come on, I'll take you back."

She took my hand and stood up slowly, and kept hold of it while we walked back. But her steps grew slower and slower the closer we got to the main entrance.

"You alright, honey?" I asked, pausing with one foot on the stairs.

"Yeah," she whispered, shutting down, and by the time we were back in her ward she was gone again, just an empty shell that looked like a girl.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" I said, but there was no response. I hung on the door for a second, hating to leave her like this, and then left.