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The girl hadn’t turned around when she entered so Kate simply sat down on another chair, placed close to the door, and said simply, ‘Hello.’

‘Hello.’

There it was again; the husky voice of a much older woman.  Or perhaps just a heavy smoker; certainly Grainne had a lighted cigarette in her hand.  Even aside
from the anti-smoking laws this seemed odd considering the girl was suspected of arson, suspected of
killing
someone by means of a fire.  But then the room contained not one but two smoke detectors and a discreet CCTV camera.  Still, it seemed strangely lax, particularly as there would surely be no cameras in the bedroom or bathroom.

Kate took another deep breath, trying to calm her jangling nerves; this initial contact was all-important, and so easy to mess up.  She rarely planned an approach, preferring spontaneity, and her only real rule was to be kind and calm at all times, and to try and speak gently.  She knew both from experience and her own intuition that human warmth
produced far better results than clinical detachment.  It was simple commonsense that people, disturbed or not, react better to friendship than to intellectual dissection.

Maintaining the same soft voice s
he said, ‘Could you turn around please, Grainne?’  She was not really expecting a response and so was surprised a second time when the girl readily stood up and turned her chair around to face her.

On catching her first sight of Grainne Kate caught her breath in surprise.  Trev had not exaggerated
about her looks; quite simply, the girl was stunningly, staggeringly beautiful.  Apart from the fine, silky blonde hair that immediately caught the eye, she had a face to die for.  Her skin was perfect; smooth and soft and alabaster pure, and seemingly without even pores, much less blemishes.  Her nose was short and straight and topped by a high forehead that saved the heart-shaped face from a doll-like roundness.  Her lips were full, her mouth wide, and she had enormous, startlingly green eyes that looked at Kate without a trace of anxiety.  Or, as the psychologist quickly realized, any expression at all.

Kate looked at her in silence for some time, viewing Trevor’s predicament with a touch more sympathy t
han before, though only a touch; a man would have to more than human to be unmoved by such beauty.  And the body inside the silk pyjamas was pretty well perfect too; curvy yet petite enough to make Kate feel like the incredible hulk in comparison.  Kate shook her head to re-focus her mind, not wanting to get hung up on the girl’s exterior; it was the damaged person inside she was interested in.  Besides, Grainne’s looks hadn’t done her much good so far in life.  She took her old Sanyo Talkbook out of her coat pocket and switched it on before saying softly, ‘My name is Kate.  What’s yours?’

‘Grainne,’ the girl readily replied
, though without any emphasis or inflexion.  She was like a biological robot; physically she appeared to function normally but there was no personality, no soul looking out of those huge liquid eyes.

‘Do you know where you are, Grainne?’

She gave a radiant smile, and Kate caught her breath again; the effect was nothing short of devastating, instantly drawing an involuntary smile in response.

‘Of course I do, silly.  This is the Sacred Heart convent.’

Kate blinked in surprise; whatever she had subconsciously been expecting, it was not this.  And without thinking she asked, ‘Why are you in a convent?’

The same blinding, child-like smile of simplicity, ‘To become a nun, of course.  Why else?  Are you a novice too?’

Kate frowned, kicking herself; feeding into the girl’s fantasies by discussing them at all was probably the worst thing she could do but the words had simply slipped out.  She was rustier than she had realised.  ‘No, I’m not a novice and neither are you.  And this is not a convent.  But I would like to be your friend.  I’m a psychologist, and I’m here to help you, if I can.  And if you let me.’

Kate thought quickly; this wasn’t a therapy session, or an examination.  It was only
supposed to be an introduction, to get Grainne used to her presence, and she had expected to spend the first two or three weeks simply getting to know her and laying the foundation for the relationship she hoped to build with her.  On the other hand, she hadn’t expected to find the girl so responsive; dare she ask a few questions at this early stage?  Try a little gentle probing?  After a moment she said softly, ‘Do you mind if I ask you some questions?’  There was a silence that Kate took for assent so, intending to destroy Grainne’s fantasy, she asked, ‘Why do you want to become a nun?’

Grainne frowned and disgust twisted her face, ‘To get
away.’

‘Away from what?’

‘From
men!’
hissed the girl in sudden animation, ‘They’re evil and cruel and they
stink! 
They’re monsters and they cause all the troubles of the world.  Sister Caroline, my French teacher, told me that when I was in school and she was
right. 
I didn’t believe her at the time but I know better now.’

‘Why do you think men are cruel?  Did a man ever hurt you?’

‘No,’ replied the girl tonelessly, her eyes sliding off to gaze out the window once again.

‘Then why do you hate them?’

‘I don’t
hate
them.  I just want to be away from them.’

‘But w
hy?’

‘Men only want to use women.  They only want sex from them.’

Struck by a sudden, horrible fear, Kate asked, ‘What about your Dad?  Is he like that?’

‘
All
men are.’

Kate pursed her lips and looked at the girl, not knowing how to proceed.  ‘Is your Daddy cruel?’

‘Of course
not! 
Men
are cruel, he is my
father.’
She placed an odd emphasis on certain words but overall she spoke without any heat, and her face was still wooden, without emotion, her lustrous eyes far away and no doubt looking only inward.

Hardly daring to breathe, and dreading the answer after the night before, Kate asked, ‘Does your
father ever want sex from you?’

Grainne looked at her with a real expression on her face for the first time, and to Kate’s infinite relief the expression was one of confusion.  ‘No,’ said the girl at last, mild surprise in her husky voice, ‘He’s my
father
.’

Kate blew out her
breath, inexpressibly relieved that the man she had slept with was not an abuser. 
Not yet.
Don’t jump to conclusions
, she warned herself,
Keep an open mind
.  Not that she should even have asked the question; it was far too early to probe such intimate areas.  Fearing she was digging too deep, too soon, she mentally backed off and said mildly, ‘Tell me about your home, your family.’

Grainne’s face, already expressionless, suddenly went so slack that Kate fea
red she had lost her, but after a long, trembling pause she began to speak, to describe a house that no longer existed outside her mind.

After listening intently for some time, glad just to ha
ve her communicating, Kate said, ‘Tell me about your parents.’

‘Mummy is beautiful.  Tall and slim and shiny.  Father is so big, and very strong.’ 

Again Kate was struck by the girl’s child-like manner and speech.  Had she regressed to her childhood?  To a happier time before her mother’s death?

‘How old are you, Grainne?’

‘Eighteen.’

Kate felt a hot rush of excitement; Grainne’s repl
ies had been so simple that Kate had assumed she was talking to the child-Grainne Trev had mentioned.  But not only was this the adult Grainne, but as she had been seventeen when she was brought to Deacon House she was clearly aware of her real self, and of passing time.  Which could mean that her true personality wasn’t buried half as deep as Kate had feared.  And in spite of her childish tone she hadn’t regressed to her childhood in her mind, either, in spite of Kate’s premature and somewhat blundering questions.  All in all Grainne was far better than Kate had been led to believe and she asked, though without much hope, ‘Do you remember your sixteenth birthday?’

Nothing
.  That slack, blank stare again, and the absence of the slightly wistful look that Kate had already come to believe was her normal expression when fully
compos mentos
.  She had retreated somewhere inside her own mind.  Kate needed something safe to bring her back, something non-threatening.  ‘Do you have a pet, Grainne?’

The change in expression was infinitesimal but Kate wa
s already looking past the outward beauty to read what passed for expressions on that perfect, almost plastic face, and knew that the girl was back with her even before she replied, ‘A dog.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Ruddles.’

There was the tiniest hint of a break in that husky voice and Kate, fearing that
rather than being a safe topic mention of the dog was bringing the girl unpleasant connotations, hastily retreated to the safety of the past before she lost her again.  ‘Do you remember the day you got him?’

Still no
real animation but that breathtaking, if plastic, smile flashed out again, ‘Yes.  It was my tenth birthday.’

‘Describe him to me.’

‘Small.  Furry.  Cuddly.’  She giggled suddenly, ‘He can’t walk properly, keeps tripping over his own feet.  And he
pees. 
All over the place.  Drives Mummy nuts.’

‘And Daddy?’

‘Father laughs.  Says Ruddles can’t help it.  Grow out of it soon.  Mommy is
furious
.’

‘And did he grow out of it?’

‘Oh yes.  But Mommy still doesn’t like him.’

‘Where is Ruddles now?’

‘Gone.’

‘Gone where?’

‘Gone.’

Kate pa
used; was the dog dead or did Grainne simply not know where it was?  If the former any further probing might trigger unhappy memories but if it was alive, and Kate could bring it there, was the dog something she could use to ground Grainne, to keep her focused on reality?  Would it help her or would seeing it simply bring connotations of an unhappy time in her life?  She knew she was treading in a minefield and had to be incredibly careful because Grainne was the most suggestible person Kate had ever met.  She didn’t know if it was the medication, or the reversion therapy Sarah McGrath had used, or even the girl’s own attempts to flee from reality, but for whatever reason Grainne was wide-open emotionally.  It was almost as if she were in a hypnotic trance, and so was mentally defenseless, and Kate was terrified of damaging the girl’s already fragile psyche by awaking the wrong memory.  At last she made a decision and said, ‘Would you like to see Ruddles now?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Bad dog.  He’s gone because he’s a bad dog.’

‘Why is he a bad dog?’

‘He wouldn’t protect me.’

‘Protect you from what?’

Grainne’s blank, dead face suddenly came to life as she
exploded
with passion, and there was vicious, furious anger blazing in her huge green eyes as she shouted, ‘Protect me from bastards like
you!
  The bastards in this hospital!’

Kate was stunned by the sudden transformation but wanted to keep the girl animated,
keep her
alive,
and instantly asked, ‘Why are we bastards?  Why do you need protection from us?’

‘You know!’ hissed the girl, ‘You strap me down so I can’t move, then men come in
and
touch
me! 
Use
me!  And
you
let them.  You’re not a doctor, you’re a
torturer
!’

‘That’s not true,’ said Kate calmly, ‘No one touches you here.  You’re safe here.’

‘No!’

‘Yes!’
insisted Kate, ‘No one touches you; you’re safe here.  You know where you are, don’t you?  You know you’re in a hospital, not a convent; you just said so.  But no one can touch you here.  You’re only treated by
women! 
Do you understand me, Grainne?  No men can touch you in here!  You’re
safe!’

Nothing.  She was gone again, the eyes beautiful but empty.  With an inward sigh Kate
sat back in the chair, not sure whether she had helped or hindered her new patient. 
Well, so much for baby steps, for getting to know her for a few weeks before starting to probe!

She
started again at the beginning, asking innocuous questions about the girl’s childhood to try and slowly draw her back.  Nothing.  It was like talking to a zombie.  After a further, fruitless ten minutes Kate was ready to leave, defeated.  But only for today.  She would be back, and would keep coming back until the girl was free of whatever emotional fetters were holding her from reality.  The real Grainne was much closer to the surface than she had dreamed, and Kate knew she could help her dig her way out of the mental fog currently enveloping her.  Weeks, months, years; it didn’t matter how long it took.  She would help bring her back to the real world, and hopefully to a full life.  There would be pain, no doubt, and an ocean of tears to be shed, but however harsh it could be, real life was infinitely better than the empty, dream-like existence the girl currently had.