Charis (20 page)

“Thank you, Doctor Sinclair,” Helen concluded his segment. “That
seems to me to be very sound advice.”

As Ben walked off the set, he put his arm around Charis who had been
watching on the side lines, and whispered to her, “Come on. Let's go home. I
can't get out of here fast enough.”

*****

During the weeks of Ben's television experience the rest of their
lives went on as usual. He continued to be very busy. He’d been called out at
night a couple of times and even into the hospital at the weekends a few times
when he was on call.

Charis was still busy preparing her students for the concert by
giving them extra lessons and she also had her own performance to think about.
She’d decided to play Elizabethan Serenade but she’d also been asked to sing.
She hadn't told Ben about that. She knew he wanted her to keep up with her
singing and she’d been taking some additional classes without his knowledge so
she could keep it as a surprise.

There was still plenty of amused interest in Jennifer and David as
their relationship blossomed, Jennifer spending every other weekend with them. Sometimes
David was at the Chelsea house, but most of the time, if he wasn't working, the
two of them went out together. One weekend Jennifer was invited to his family
home in Surrey. David's father was a stock broker and they lived in Purley, by
the golf course. Jennifer was incredibly nervous about meeting them. It made
Charis realise how lucky she’d been with Ben. She’d known his family for years
so hadn't had the agonising experience of having to be introduced to them.

And then there was Mrs. Everett. She continually found reasons,
excuses really, to “just pop over” to ask Ben's advice on various aspects of
her health, until finally he told her to go and see her GP.

“It's been several years since I had any experience in that area,”
he told her. “I’m an obstetrician, so come and see me if you get pregnant. I
can help you then.”

Charis had to leave the room in a hurry - she was having such a difficult
time hiding her mirth. Mrs. Everett went off in a huff. She was in her
mid-sixties and a widow.

Ben and Charis had spent a few days in Cornwall while the weather
was still warm but after most of the tourists had gone home. Charis couldn’t
remember the name of the cottage she stayed at as a child, so they looked on
the internet and booked a couple of nights at a B&B in Tintagel. They drove
down through Cheddar Gorge and then stopped at Launceston to see the castle on
the way. Ben had never been to Tintagel and they had a wonderful time exploring
the castle ruins and the countryside. 

Then summer was over and the weather became decidedly cooler. Charis
spent some time in her garden tidying up and getting ready for winter,
composting dead plants and weeds and planting spring bulbs.

The phone calls seemed to have stopped. Instead, Henry was pushing
notes through her front door letter box. The first one had read ‘I'm back.’ The
second, a few weeks later, ‘I've been watching you.’ Both times Charis found
she was shaking so much she had to sit down until she managed to pull herself
together.
As long as it's only paper, he can't hurt me
, she told
herself. She didn't tell Ben anything about either the phone calls or the
notes. He was busy and she didn't want to worry him. She knew he would do
everything he could to find out what, or who, was behind it all, and much as
she desired to talk to him about it, she decided not to…not yet. She hoped the
notes would stop just like the phone calls had.

But one evening when Jennifer and David came for dinner, she decided
to talk to David about it – in a roundabout way, of course. After all, he was a
detective. There had been a report on the news about a young woman who had been
stalked by an ex-boyfriend, so Charis asked him what the police could actually
do
in such cases and was there anything that the victim could do to help
themselves…to stop it from happening...and to protect themselves?

“It depends on the individual case,” David told her. “Naturally, she
should report it then try not to be alone until the case is resolved. In most
cases it's just a nuisance, intimidating and frightening to be sure, but not a
real danger, although there have been exceptions.”

“What about phone calls or letters?” she added.

“The same,” he said. “Sometimes ignoring them works, but not always.
Each case should be examined individually. It’s hard to make a general
statement. Why? Do you know someone who has a problem?”

“Oh, no,” she replied. “The news report just started me thinking,
that's all,” and she changed the subject, feeling pretty much the same as
before she’d asked the question.

*****

Twice more Charis had her nightmare, waking up sobbing and
terrified. Ben was worried and tried to get her to open up to him about her
childhood years after her father died. He was convinced that once she was able
to talk freely about it, to remember it all and bring it out into the open, her
nightmares wouldn’t be as intense or as frequent, and maybe they’d even stop
altogether. But it was obviously so traumatic for her to even speak about it -
trying to resurrect the old fears seemed worse than the nightmares. He contented
himself with being there for her, to calm and comfort her when she awoke, hoping
that eventually he could persuade her to tell him all about it.

Only a few days after Charis' second nightmare, while working in one
of the NHS hospitals, Ben met up with Tim Markham. They’d been medical students
together in their early years of training but Tim had gone into psychiatry and
they hadn't seen each other for some time. They sat and ate lunch together.

“Saw you on TV the other day – doing well for yourself,” said Tim
with a grin.

“Enough said about that,” was Ben's response. “I got bulldozed into
it – definitely not my kind of thing.”

They caught up on news. Tim was married and now the father of two
and was enjoying his chosen field of medicine.

“The mind is an amazing thing,” he said. “I find my work
fascinating. And what's more, I'm able to keep to regular business hours, not
like your lot…delivering babies all hours of the day or night.”

“Maybe it's more than a coincidence that I've run into you today,”
Ben said. “I could do with a bit of advice,” and he told Tim about Charis'
nightmares and how she couldn't, or wouldn't, talk about a lot of her childhood
experiences.

“What happened to her?” Tim asked.

Ben told him as much as he knew and then said, “I was hoping she
would talk to me about it. I thought it might help her if she could open up.
What is your professional opinion?”

“I agree with you,” he answered. “But she may need to talk to
someone else. What if I popped round to see her sometime? I may be able to
induce her to talk to me, then she won't have to get all nervous and worried
about making an appointment and coming to my office.”

“You'd be willing to do that?”

“Of course. What about this weekend? Janet's busy this coming
Saturday afternoon. Her sister's just had a new baby and she's taking our kids
to meet their new cousin…not my bag at all. I could pop over if you're not on
call.”

“No,” Ben said. “We’ll be at home. Thank you. I'd appreciate your
help. But I don't know how Charis will feel.” So it was arranged.

Saturday came. They had a quiet morning. Charis made broccoli and
cheddar soup for lunch which they ate with bread rolls followed by some fresh
fruit. After cleaning up the kitchen they went upstairs so Charis could
practice the piano. The concert was in only a matter of days. Ben thought her
rendition of the music beautiful…and perfect…but Charis felt she could use a
little more polish. He sat with a medical book open on his lap, half listening
to her and half listening for Tim to arrive – he hadn't said a word to Charis
about him coming.

The front door bell rang and he jumped up. “I'll get it,” he said.
“You just keep practising,” and he ran down to get the door.

Within a few minutes they were both upstairs and Tim was looking at
his surroundings.

“What a beautiful room!” he exclaimed.

“I can't take any credit,” Ben said. “It’s all Charis' good taste,”
he added with a smile.

Charis had stopped playing and politely stood to meet their guest.

“Sweetheart, this is a friend from my student days, Tim Markham.
Tim, my wife, Charis.”

They shook hands and Tim said, “Was that you playing? You’re
exceptionally good.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking a little embarrassed.

“She's a very talented lady,” Ben said proudly.

“Please, won't you sit down? May I offer you something to drink?”
Charis asked him.

“No, no thank you, I'm fine.”

“Come sit with me,” Ben said to Charis as he settled in on the sofa.
When they were comfortable, he looked at her and said, “I have a confession to
make, sweetheart. I asked Tim to come. I met up with him a few days ago – we
hadn't seen each other for years – and I told him about your nightmares.”

“No, Ben, no,” she started to protest.

“My darling girl,” he said. “You
can't
go on like this. It's
been years now. You need to get some help. Tim is a psychiatrist. He can help
you if you let him.”

He felt her tremble and put his arm around her, pulling her to him.
Her hands were in her lap, twisting together, so he put his other hand over
hers trying to calm her.

“Charis, Ben tells me that these nightmares began when you were a
child after you were locked in a garden shed overnight. Is that correct?”

She nodded.

“How old were you then?”

She thought for a few moments. “I think it must have been the summer
I turned nine,” she said softly. “I know it was after I was sent away to
school.”

Gradually, Tim managed to pull it all from her. She told him
everything; about her father's death, the funeral, being “sent away”, the
strict regime she had to live under at home.

“And what had you done to deserve such punishment?” he asked.

“Well, I'm not really sure, but I think it was the night she found
me reading in bed when I was supposed to be asleep and she screamed at me and I
said something like, ‘You're not my mother! I don't have to do everything you
say.’ She slapped my face for being rude and dragged me out of bed by my hair and
pulled me down the stairs and outside.”

Charis was sobbing so much that she could no longer speak and Ben
held her close to him and kissed and stroked her hair.

Tim said, “Well done! I think we just made a breakthrough here.”

After she managed to stop crying they sat and talked some more and
for the first time Charis was able to talk about her childhood experiences in
full, about Mildred and Henry and the nightmares.  Then they went downstairs
and Ben made hot chocolate for them all and they sat and talked but about
happier things.

When Tim stood up to leave, he said to Charis, “Anytime you want to
talk to me, just call. I can come here or you can come to me at my office or my
home, okay?”

Charis nodded, smiled and said, “Thank you.”

“But you must talk to Ben about it all. Let him share the burden. He's
a big strong boy. He can cope. I think you'll be just fine. Today has been a
catalyst for you.” And as he left he said to Ben, “The key was when she said
she was ‘sent away’. Her father dead and she was ‘sent away’, punished because
her father died and it's all been jumbled together in her head. If you can get
her to talk it out with you, she won't need me anymore.”

*****

They spent another weekend in Hampshire with Ben's family and Emily
asked if they had any plans for Christmas. Ben and Charis looked at each other
a little surprised. They’d been so busy they hadn't given much thought to
Christmas coming up in just a few weeks.

“I know that you may want to be establishing your own traditions for
your Christmas celebration,” she said, “But I want you to know that you will be
very welcome to come and spend as much or as little time as you wish with us.”

“It'll depend a lot on when Ben has to work,” Charis said. “May we
let you know a little later?  But we’d love to spend some time with you all.”

Emily smiled and nodded. “Well, just to let you know that we don't
do gifts for everyone - the family is getting too big for that now so we have
strict rules. If you’re here on Christmas Day you will be asked to provide one
gift each and will be assigned a person to give it to, and no one is allowed to
spend more than £20. If you don't come until later then there are to be no
presents at all.”

Charis smiled in agreement. “That sounds like a great idea,” she
said.

But before Christmas was the Music Academy concert - the last
Saturday in November. It was a beautiful early winter day – it dawned bright
and crisp. Ben lay in bed watching Charis still sleeping. It was one of his
favourite things to do. She woke and smiled at him.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he grinned as he tucked a stray tendril
of her hair behind her ear and kissed her softly on her forehead. She placed
her hand on his face and caressed his cheek then sat up, grabbed her dressing
gown from the bed post and slipped it over her naked body before she
disappeared into the bathroom. Ben watched her go, smiling to himself. He loved
the way she was still so modest with him, except when they were in bed making
love. She certainly had no inhibitions then. He’d commented on the way she
still shut the bathroom door on him.