Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. (6 page)

By mid-afternoon, she’d convinced herself she couldn’t do it anyway, even if he did ring, which he wouldn’t. She really had no clue how to… just be, naturally. Inarticulate is how she felt. Unworldly — and scared.

‘I thought Italian, maybe,’ Mark said into her mobile, as she tried to formulate a sensible sentence. ‘
Benedicto’s
in Worcester. What do you think?’

Ultra posh nosh, Donna thought, followed by coffee… Oh, God! ‘I can’t, Mark,’ she blurted. ‘It’s a nice idea, but…’ Donna trailed off, glancing at Jean, her work-shy manageress, who glanced from Donna to the clock, pointedly, her unspoken message being,
it’s five minutes to five. You’re still on work time.

‘Oh,’ Mark said, followed by a loaded pause. ‘Did I do something wrong?’

‘No! I —’

‘But you’re not interested?’

Donna closed her eyes, her heart beating a steady drumbeat in her chest. What did she say? He’d actually rung. She’d thought it about as likely as winning the lottery. But he had. She’d so wanted him to.

‘Donna? Talk to me.’

Donna swallowed. ‘I have to go, Mark,’ she said quickly, as Jean harrumphed and demonstratively shuffled papers. ‘I can’t talk right now. Can I call you back in about ten minutes?’

‘Okay. No problem,’ Mark said, a curious edge to his voice.

Donna signed off, and tried hard to convince herself she was being pathetic as she filled the last five minutes of her workday filing. She’d found one: a perfectly lovely specimen of the rare breed of late-thirtyish men, whose intentions seemed honourable, and she was about to turn down an invitation to go out with him?!

Was
she
mad?

No… She filed an ‘E’ document under ‘H’, extracted it, and tried again… she was truly scared. Terrified he’d see her as her husband obviously had, i.e. a not-so-perfect specimen of a not-so-rare breed of mid-thirtyish women, who wasn’t quite so honed as he. In fact, totally unhoned and with stretch marks she couldn’t hope to hide unless she made love with him in the dark wrapped in a duvet.

Oh, God, what on earth did she do? He’d be bound to want to get naked; sooner rather than later, since she’d so brazenly thrown herself at him. And if it wasn’t sooner, it would be later, and then he would move on… sooner or later.

And she’d be lonely and upset all over again.

Because she’d let him in - and this man wouldn’t leave with a little bit of heart. He’d take all of it. Break it.

Because, she suspected, PC Mark Evans quite easily could.

Donna trailed to the loo to ring him back, knowing it was hopeless. Even with spray tans and Posh Spice’s bone structure, she couldn’t hope to pass herself off as fresh fruit. And, even if he didn’t mind what he saw, the reality was he’d like it much more if what he saw was ten or fifteen years younger.

No, she simply couldn’t go that route. Whatever dignity she did have, she needed to hold onto it.

‘Mark, I like you,’ she said immediately when he answered. ‘I like you a lot, but…’ she hesitated, no clue how tell him but the way it was. ‘I’m not ready for a full-on relationship, Mark. I thought you understood.’

‘Oh, right. I, er…’ Mark paused, for what seemed like an eternity. ‘Maybe we could… go for a drink then, sometime?’

‘Yes, that might be nice.’ Donna chewed hard on her lip.

‘Good.’ Mark paused again, and Donna so wanted to fill the gap, to tell him how she really felt.
So tell him
! An inner voice screamed.

Cursing her ineptitude, Donna opened her mouth and, ‘Okay,’ he said, drawing in a terse breath. ‘I’ll catch up with you, then. Bye.’

And then he rang off.

Donna blinked at her mobile forlornly. She’d hurt him. She could hear it in his voice. She hadn’t meant to. He’d been considerate and caring, more caring than any man she’d ever known, but… He would change, she told herself resolutely. Hadn’t he already, going swiftly from dinner tonight to a drink ‘sometime’? He wouldn’t ‘catch up with her’, not now that he realised he hadn’t got access to the full menu. And what about Matt? Mark might not have responsibilities, but Donna certainly did. Was a man like Mark, good-looking, apparently childless, ergo footloose and fancy-free, really going to be interested in anything beyond a sexual relationship? Would he really want to be embroiled in the life of a single-mum and all the problems that went with it?

Not a chance. Of that much Donna was totally convinced.

Chapter Four

‘Great!’ She’d given him the brush off. Why? Surely she must realise he liked her? Could care about her — a lot. Dammit, he’d really thought Donna might… Obviously not. Dejected, Mark ran a hand over his neck, pocketed his mobile, and headed back towards the lawned area outside the Blossom Tree Respite Home. They’d agreed to keep Karl for a few days, which would give Jody a break while her mum was ill. It would give Mark a break, too, which he badly needed.

He glanced up from his contemplation as he approached a group of five children, Dr. Lewis overseeing them and… what was that in the middle of the group? Blimey, a real live dog? Mark smiled, surprised, as he got closer. A Labrador, from the look of it, sitting slap bang in the middle of them, wagging its tail, quite content being petted… by Karl?

Surprise gave way to out-and-out shock. Mark hardly dared to breathe as he locked eyes with Dr. Lewis. Karl was actually stroking the dog. Touching it. Feeling? How? Mark swallowed back a lump in his throat.

‘It’s a PAT dog.’ Dr. Lewis answered his unasked question, walking across to place a reassuring hand on Mark’s arm.

‘A PAT?’ Mark’s voice was slightly strangulated. He coughed and tried again. ‘A what?’

‘Pets As Therapy. They’re volunteer dogs. Well, that is, the owners volunteer their dogs for service. Karl coming in clutching his new doggy friend prompted me to contact one of our volunteers. What do you think?’

‘I think I may be hallucinating.’ Mark laughed, disbelieving. ‘The most I’ve seen Karl do lately is line up his cars, turn endlessly around in circles, try to set fire to the place or throw himself on the floor.’

Dr. Lewis nodded. ‘That’s where I’m hoping Ben might come in and help Karl stop being a hostage to his rituals. Dogs like Ben are used all over, to bring comfort to people: in hospitals, hospices, residential homes and special-needs schools. They allow kids to express themselves in ways they otherwise couldn’t.’

‘Right,’ Mark looked doubtful. ‘And if the kids get a little over-expressive and try to part the dog with its tail?’

‘Oh, I’m sure one or two of them will, but we don’t worry if the dog doesn’t. They all have to pass an assessment test, undertaken by an accredited assessor. Karl won’t come to any harm. In fact, I’d say it’s doing him some good, wouldn’t you?’

Mark nodded, the ability to speak seemed to have temporarily deserted him. He pressed a thumb and forefinger against his eyes.

‘We’ve been assessing Karl over the last few months…’ Dr. Lewis wrapped an arm around Mark’s shoulders and walked him away from the group, nodding at a volunteer to step in as he did so ‘… and we think he might benefit from an Autism Assistance dog.’

‘An assistance dog?’ Marked looked at Dr. Lewis dubiously.

‘Autism Assistance Dog or AAD, as we call them. They’re trained to assist people with autism. Much like service dogs are trained to perform tasks for people with other sensory-processing disabilities, to help them gain independence and confidence, ultimately the ability to perform day-to-day activities, much like everyone else.’

Mark drew in a deep breath. ‘Karl isn’t like everyone else, though, is he?’ He stopped, looked Dr. Lewis straight in the eye, then looked back to Karl, who’d now wrapped his arms around the dog’s neck. Jesus. Now, that was a miracle. Mark glanced at the sky. One he’d never allowed himself to hope for. ‘Do you think it can help him?’ he asked, daring — after so many despairing, draining years of trying to keep Karl safe — to hope for more.

‘Well, it can’t cure him, but…’

‘I know that,’ Mark snapped, and immediately regretted it. The guy was just covering himself, but the fact was, Mark did know. Caring for Karl was for life, an almost indescribable task to anyone but Dr. Lewis: The uphill struggle to get the diagnosis, the constant assessments, the roller-coaster ride of not knowing where and what might bring on a tantrum.

The constant ritual they lived their lives by, making sure Karl’s daily routine wasn’t detracted from before he was ready. He was scared of traffic, of crowds, of shops, the noise seeming to close in on him and cause a total meltdown sometimes. Even background noises — noises most people couldn’t even hear, could drive Karl to distraction.

Mark wasn’t ashamed of Karl. He could never be that. Karl was the same child he’d loved before he heard the word autism, after all. But Mark wanted more for his son. He wanted Karl to be the best that he could. He didn’t believe Karl was happy cocooned in his own little world, when the outside world was such a mass of people and places he couldn’t make sense of. Mark wanted Karl to learn, at least learn new ways of coping with daily activity. Because, at the end of the day, Mark knew he wouldn’t always be around — to hold Karl when he was scared, to stop him from bolting in front of that car, to find him when he’d wandered too far.

Mark massaged his temples. ‘Dr. Lewis, I apologise. It’s been a long day and… I’m struggling, to be honest. It’s hard to allow myself to hope, you know?’

Dr. Lewis nodded. ‘Autism is hard on the children, but it’s sometimes harder on the parents. We don’t know whether it can help Karl until we try, though. And whilst Karl might tire of Ben, he certainly doesn’t seem to be in danger of doing so imminently.’

Mark glanced back to the group. ‘No,’ he conceded, watching Karl stroke the dog with repeated consistent, soft strokes, from his head to his tail. ‘Okay, tell me more.’

‘Good.’ Dr. Lewis smiled. ‘Well, it is a relatively new thing, but it does seem to be getting results. Obviously, the dog provided is fully-trained, assuming there’s a dog available.’

Mark nodded, trying not to feel disappointed before they’d even got started.

‘The parents or carers have to have the correct training and support, along with the child, of course,’ Dr. Lewis continued, ‘but basically, whilst being aware that every autistic child is unique, we’re looking to help with behaviours in common that lead to social isolation, both within the family and with other people. Mobility issues, lack of awareness of danger in everyday situations.’

Mark nodded again, understanding, but not quite getting how. ‘Can it stop him from wandering, or bolting, when he’s out in the open?’ he asked, that being one of his major fears.

‘That’s the idea. The child and the dog share a harness and, initially, you control the child by commanding the dog.’

Mark looked at Dr. Lewis, not sure he wanted Karl to be tethered to a dog.

‘It might seem a bit extreme at first,’ Dr. Lewis said, ‘but remember these dogs are highly trained. And the benefits are enormous. Increased safety for the child, increased independence. The amazing thing is, from case studies, it does appear to teach the child responsibility. We’ve seen positive changes in behaviour, lower aggression levels, and of huge benefit is that the dog seems to offer comfort to the child when he gets upset. They’re allowed full access to public places, as are other sensory assistance dogs.’

‘So he’d be with him wherever he goes?’ Mark stopped to look back at Karl.

‘Yes, by and large. The ultimate aim is to reduce the stress associated with interacting with people. An autism dog, given it works out, can allow a child to participate in education, social, and leisure activities.’

‘… to lead a more fulfilling life.’ Mark finished, his gaze on Karl, who’d curled up on the lawn with Ben now, and seemed to be sleeping.

‘So, how do we apply?’ he asked, choked, because if ever he’d been looking for evidence there was a God, this had to be it.

****

Donna pulled up on her drive feeling miserable. Then, marginally better as she imagined Jean getting her artistically-knotted scarf caught in the shredder. The Chief Executive was so besotted with her, he’d probably think it was some kinky sex game and try to bonk her. Donna sighed. She didn’t care if they were having an affair as long as Jean didn’t keep offloading her work onto her. She had no hope of her application for childcare training succeeding if she couldn’t keep on top of her workload, thus ensuring a decent reference.

Ah, well, she was home now. She’d try a little one-on-one assertiveness with Jean tomorrow — or email her — possibly.

Coward. Donna despaired of ever getting ahead as she trudged through the front door. She just didn’t do confrontation well.

‘Sweetie!’ she cried, spotting Sadie hopping precariously up the hall. ‘You came to greet me. Aw, hon…’ Donna bent down to stroke her faithful friend and felt a lot better, until she remembered tonight was Pilates night.

Oh, she really did not want to go. She’d much rather stay at home and examine her heart about her feelings for Mark; and her conscience about her treatment of him.

Why had she turned him down? She was a grown woman. She didn’t have to give all of herself, heart, body, and soul, until she knew him, knew whether he was interested in anything long term. And surely she could have handled it if he didn’t turn out to be as perfect as she needed him to be. Perhaps she could have, in time. She wouldn’t have time though, not now she’d pushed him away.

She sighed, a shuddery sigh. She’d have to go to Pilates. Her sister would be insistent, being the
healthy body equals healthy mind s
ort and determined to keep in shape. Not that Alicia ever looked out of shape, as Jeremy hadn’t been slow to point out. Unlike Donna, Alicia was tall, beautiful and slender, even after having a baby.

Donna sighed again and tried not to mind. Alicia was as mad as a hatter, as eccentric as their mother, always there for her — and Donna loved her to bits. No, she couldn’t let her sister down.

Like she had Mark.

Awash with guilt, Donna headed for the kitchen to check whether Findus was home or under the table. The table invariably, dining out on a carrot.