Read Online Just Like a Woman by Madeleine Clark - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Madeleine Clark
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night; their emergencies were her emergencies as far as they were concerned.
And no one called her Steph—not even Robert. Her friends knew she despised being called that. She pushed away the slight feeling of nausea convincing herself it was just the hunger. But he knew her name. He must have got the number from someone she knew. She kept pushing all the doubts she felt firmly away, but in the back of her mind she knew that no one, who she had given her mobile number to, would give it out willingly.
There was a quiet knock before Jane entered with the sandwich on a plate and a cup of fresh coffee.
‘If that caller calls again, tell him I’m still busy, and try and get a name or some sort of information; his number, 1471 or something, OK?’ She smiled at Jane as she put the plate in front of her and she reached for the cup.
After Jane had left the room it dawned on her; he hadn’t tried to hide his number; he wanted her to call him back. And stupid cow that she was had done so. And now her number would be registered on his phone and he’d know she had phoned. Then she breathed a sigh of relief; no he wouldn’t, her number was withheld; his phone would register a call, but would not inform him of who had called.
The last session was hard. All thoughts about selfish, indulgent clients doing no work had to be re-evaluated. Her last client came in looking pale and shaky. She had had a flashback, gone straight into the recall of a very unpleasant incident. An incident involving a trusty uncle which had taken place when she was six years old. The poor woman had wiped it clean from her memory, although she remembered always having an unreasonable dislike of being alone with this uncle. Stephanie forgave all her other clients for their mundane lives; they were far easier in the end to work with because she didn’t have to think about them or find ways of getting their stories out of her head later.
Stephanie gave Jane the rest of the afternoon off, drove home, grabbed the dogs and went for a long walk to cleanse herself of the words her client had repeated to her. Words which touched a part of herself she had no wish to investigate or revisit. Although the cold wind bit into her cheeks, her jacket hung at her waist because the pace she forced from her legs generated a gentle dampness beneath her sweatshirt. Whilst tramping over the moss and dead leaves she planned a quiet night in with absolute precision; a small glass of wine, some escapist television and a plate of those delicious marinated olives from the local twenty-four seven. She tried to ignore the message alert interrupting her fantasy, and carried on walking for a few more moments before succumbing to inquisitiveness. Flipping the phone open and she read,
‘hi steph its good to finish work early xxx’
Standing still to focus, she studied the number. It looked like the same number as before. Her heart fluttered for a moment, she stood still, turning her head from side to side slowly, looking about her. The dogs continued to play, oblivious to the rest of the world, indicating to her no one else could be in close proximity; the dogs were ever vigilant on her behalf. Looking at the number registered to the text message again, she memorized it before looking through her other registered received calls. Yes, it was the same as the call she received earlier. If Jane had dialled 1471 to find out who her unknown caller was on the office phone this morning, she would have been able to check it against this number on her mobile. She laughed to herself, releasing some of the tension building up, and continued her walk. Someone was playing a joke on her. Of course it had to be. Who did she know with a sense of humour? Cammy. Yes it must be Cammy. She must have phoned the office and received no reply. She dialled Cammy’s number but it went straight to her answer machine. Then the phone beeped again. She stopped again to read it.
‘ps next time you call leave me a
And no one called her Steph—not even Robert. Her friends knew she despised being called that. She pushed away the slight feeling of nausea convincing herself it was just the hunger. But he knew her name. He must have got the number from someone she knew. She kept pushing all the doubts she felt firmly away, but in the back of her mind she knew that no one, who she had given her mobile number to, would give it out willingly.
There was a quiet knock before Jane entered with the sandwich on a plate and a cup of fresh coffee.
‘If that caller calls again, tell him I’m still busy, and try and get a name or some sort of information; his number, 1471 or something, OK?’ She smiled at Jane as she put the plate in front of her and she reached for the cup.
After Jane had left the room it dawned on her; he hadn’t tried to hide his number; he wanted her to call him back. And stupid cow that she was had done so. And now her number would be registered on his phone and he’d know she had phoned. Then she breathed a sigh of relief; no he wouldn’t, her number was withheld; his phone would register a call, but would not inform him of who had called.
The last session was hard. All thoughts about selfish, indulgent clients doing no work had to be re-evaluated. Her last client came in looking pale and shaky. She had had a flashback, gone straight into the recall of a very unpleasant incident. An incident involving a trusty uncle which had taken place when she was six years old. The poor woman had wiped it clean from her memory, although she remembered always having an unreasonable dislike of being alone with this uncle. Stephanie forgave all her other clients for their mundane lives; they were far easier in the end to work with because she didn’t have to think about them or find ways of getting their stories out of her head later.
Stephanie gave Jane the rest of the afternoon off, drove home, grabbed the dogs and went for a long walk to cleanse herself of the words her client had repeated to her. Words which touched a part of herself she had no wish to investigate or revisit. Although the cold wind bit into her cheeks, her jacket hung at her waist because the pace she forced from her legs generated a gentle dampness beneath her sweatshirt. Whilst tramping over the moss and dead leaves she planned a quiet night in with absolute precision; a small glass of wine, some escapist television and a plate of those delicious marinated olives from the local twenty-four seven. She tried to ignore the message alert interrupting her fantasy, and carried on walking for a few more moments before succumbing to inquisitiveness. Flipping the phone open and she read,
‘hi steph its good to finish work early xxx’
Standing still to focus, she studied the number. It looked like the same number as before. Her heart fluttered for a moment, she stood still, turning her head from side to side slowly, looking about her. The dogs continued to play, oblivious to the rest of the world, indicating to her no one else could be in close proximity; the dogs were ever vigilant on her behalf. Looking at the number registered to the text message again, she memorized it before looking through her other registered received calls. Yes, it was the same as the call she received earlier. If Jane had dialled 1471 to find out who her unknown caller was on the office phone this morning, she would have been able to check it against this number on her mobile. She laughed to herself, releasing some of the tension building up, and continued her walk. Someone was playing a joke on her. Of course it had to be. Who did she know with a sense of humour? Cammy. Yes it must be Cammy. She must have phoned the office and received no reply. She dialled Cammy’s number but it went straight to her answer machine. Then the phone beeped again. She stopped again to read it.
‘ps next time you call leave me a
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