Rainfall (9 page)

“But I don’t want you having sex with him.” Adam sounds as forlorn as a child and I put my arms around him, drawing his face toward me until our noses are touching.

“I know you don’t. But I don’t want you having sex with anyone else,” I murmur and he shuts his eyes. He cannot argue with my logic. As awful as it is, it boils down to this: Either I have sex with Kyle in Adam’s body or Adam’s body will be having sex with a bunch of strangers.  There is no contest, we have no other choice. Adam knows this, I know this. The question remains to be seen whether we can survive it. I wait until he finally gives in to his exhaustion and only when I am sure that he is asleep do I give way to the tears.          

I have made my decision. I will be whatever he needs me to be. I will be a lover for Kyle, a mother for Jacob. I will be whatever Simon needs me to be. And above all else I will be the love of Adam’s life. He is a complex person and I have to help him I don’t have a choice. I love Adam Parker.
All of him.

Chapter 11

“I know it’s frustrating, Paige,” Carl Sheldon sympathises and I want to slap him. He has no idea. Christmas is in three days' time and still, we are getting nowhere. I have not seen any of the
alters
and while this should be a relief, it is not. How can we work through Adam’s problems if we don’t know what they are? Adam has signed a full proxy, curatorship and guardianship over to me. I am in full control of his life and at the moment I feel like a colossal failure.

“You must understand that I can only work with what Adam brings to the session,” the doctor continues, “and thus far Adam is bringing Adam. We are limited.”

“What about hypnosis?” I counter. “You said its part of the therapy. Why can’t we hypnotise him and force the others to appear?”

“We could, but what would we do with them once we have them present? They need to relive the trauma. We don’t know what that is. You said you want me to work on integrating Kyle first.  Kyle will not divulge the trauma that brought about his existence.  He has told me, categorically, that it is Adam’s business and Adam doesn’t remember. So we're back to square one.”

“Why do you think he’s keeping it to himself?” I ask, momentarily roused from my frustration. “Do you think he really respects Adam enough to respect his privacy?”

“Not at all,” Dr Sheldon smiles. “I think it has far more to do with
his own self-preservation.”  I shake my head to indicate that I am not following and he continues. “Kyle knows what we plan to do. He knows that if we can adequately resolve the trauma that resulted in his creation then his personality would likely integrate and disappear.” I nod. That makes sense. Kyle would hardly want to help bring about the end of his own existence.

“Damn it!”  I stamp my foot and then blush in embarrassment for my childish behaviour. “Sorry,” I mutter, pacing up and down.

“What about Mr Morris? Any luck there?” he probes and I shake my head. 

“He said it may take some time before any headway is made given the complexity of the situation,” I answer. I hired Bill Morris, a renowned private investigator, last week; the day after I made my decision about Kyle. He's going to dig up as much information as possible about Adam’s childhood.

“Okay.” Carl purses his lips in thought. “Paige, is there any particular reason that you want to focus on integrating Kyle first?” he asks and I struggle to meet his eyes.  I obviously want Kyle gone the first chance we get. As much as I have made my decision, I do not relish the thought of a physical relationship with that pig.

“I just feel that he's the most dangerous,” I say, matter-of-factly. “He could get Adam into trouble and he is a higher risk than the others. He can’t be controlled.” Carl smiles slightly.

“No, he can’t,” he agrees and I blush again.

“Why do you ask?” I change the subject and he draws himself up.

“Yes. Well, the thing is, Kyle will not tell us anything, but perhaps Simon or Jacob might. If Adam is willing to undergo the hypnosis, we can try and get some information out of them.  Be warned, though,” he continues quickly, reacting to my obvious enthusiasm for this idea, “it can be a very traumatic process. It is also likely to unsettle and destabilise Adam which could very well bring the other three to the fore.” I blink in confusion. “We might see a lot less of Adam and a lot more of the others following the treatment,” he explains and I am completely taken aback, my initial enthusiasm waning. Do I want to bring Kyle out?  The obvious answer is a resounding No!  But if this is the only way to make any progress...I take a moment to consider and then I nod my head.

“Let’s do it,” I say and Carl nods his approval. “But I want to be there. I want to speak to him myself. I think I may be able to break through.”

Carl looks as though he is about to argue and then a resigned look crosses his face.

“Jacob?” he asks, with a sigh.

“Jacob,” I nod. If Jacob is the secret-keeper then he is the one I need.

Three days later I wake up and it is snowing; the experts got it right after all.  I am alone in our bed but I can hear Adam moving around in the kitchen, so I burrow back under the covers and enjoy a few minutes of privacy to think. I miss my dad. There has not been a single Christmas since I was a little girl that I have not seen him on Christmas day. I had thought about flying back but our first hypnosis session is booked for two days time on the 27
th
and I want to be there. I wonder idly if Frank might go and visit him today, and, as if on cue, my mobile phone starts ringing.  It’s my mom’s number displayed on the caller ID.

“Merry Christmas, Mom!” I sing into the receiver as I answer.

“Merry Christmas, love!” she sounds quite animated and I am pleasantly surprised, “what are you up to today?” she asks and I grin.

“I just woke up, Mom,
it's only 7 a.m. here, remember?”

“Oh, yes, yes, I keep forgetting,” she clucks and I smile fondly.

“How’s the turkey?” I ask, feeling a pang of sadness. I love our traditional family Christmas roast. It is one of my favourite days of the year, and this is the first year that I won’t be there.  My mother obviously feels similarly if her next words are anything to go by.

“It’s in the oven now, smells heavenly,” there is a pause that is loaded with meaning, and then, “such a pity you aren’t here to enjoy it with us.”

“Mom,” I sigh, “we’ve discussed this.  You know I would be there if I could, but this is important. You know that.”

“Yes well, he better prove himself worthy of you, Paige,” she declares, in a rare moment of support. I smile sadly, but feel surprisingly warm and fuzzy inside.

“Thanks Mom, I love you.”

“Yes, well, here’s Frank,” she utters briskly. Okay; tender moment over.

I spend a few minutes wishing Frank and the girls “Merry Christmas” and then I hang up.  I suppose I had better get up and dressed, so I hop into the shower and ten minutes later I head down the passage to the kitchen.

“You’re up!” 
dam calls, sounding delighted. I walk straight into his open arms and he squeezes me tightly. “Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he murmurs in my ear, “I hope you brought your appetite!” I pinch a mushroom from the sizzling pan and he slaps my hand away, laughing, before depositing a steaming cup of coffee in my hands.

“
Mmm,” I murmur, blowing on the hot liquid, trying to cool it down. Adam regards me fondly before holding up one finger. 

“Wait right here,” he instructs and then he disappears down the passage.

I flip through this morning’s paper finding nothing really interesting except for an article about a group of daredevils who had bungee-jumped off the Manhattan Bridge. Police were looking for any witnesses to the crime. I wonder idly how they did it, wishing it was legal. It sounds like something that would scare the wits out of me; just what I need right now.

“Which hand?” Adam has returned and I glance up from the paper to find him standing before me, both arms outstretched and his hands balled into fists.

I narrow my eyes at him and then I examine each hand, trying to work out if either one looks like it could be holding something. After a moment's consideration I realise there are no tell-tale clues and I laugh.

“Left!”
I decide, hoping that I am right.

He grins, slowly opening his hand and turning it palm upwards and I gasp in surprise.  Glittering on the centre of his palm is the most exquisite diamond earring shaped like a daisy.  The centre stone must be at least half a carat and each of the intricate five 'petals' is not far behind. As I examine it, the sunlight coming through the window reflects off the stones, creating a dancing pattern on the ceiling. He opens his other hand to show the matching earring.

“Oh, Adam!”  I breathe in wonder, at a loss for words. This is by far the most expensive gift I have ever received and, even by Adam’s generous standards, far more than I ever expected.  I lift my head to tell him that they are too much, that he should not have gone to such expense, but as I catch his eye, the protests die on my tongue. He is looking at me with such love and seems so uncertain of my reaction.

“Do you like them?” he asks, and I throw my arms around him kissing him full on the mouth.

“I’m a girl,” I say pointedly, grinning like the village idiot, “these are diamonds.  What do you think?”  Relief washes over his features and he beams, his eyes wrinkling at the corners.

“You like them,” he states, proud as punch.

“I love them,” I correct, holding out my hand expectantly.  He drops the earrings into my outstretched palm and turns back to the stove as I fly down the passage into the bathroom to put them on. 

“They look good on you,” he comments when I return a minute later.  I hand him a wrapped package tied with a bright red bow.

“Paige,” he scolds, “you shouldn’t have!” I roll my eyes in response.

“And this from the man who spent a small fortune,” I remark candidly. Grinning, he tears open the wrapping and I hold my breath. I spent hours searching all the home ware stores in the area before I found what I was looking for. Adam opens the box inside and regards the contents for a full minute, his face unreadable.

“Paige,” he finally speaks and his voice breaks slightly with emotion, “I love you.” I heave a sigh of relief that he understands what my gift means. It is not lavish or expensive, but it is deeply meaningful. The mugs nestled in the box are all black and white striped, seven perfect replicas of Adam’s mug in the crockery cupboard. 

“I’m throwing out the others,” I say, blushing slightly, “this is our home, not theirs.  I only want you represented here, no-one else.”  He closes his eyes, smiling and when he opens them they are sparkling with glee.

“This is the best present ever,” he says, and I know that he means it.

“Well, don’t get ahead of yourself,” I say, withdrawing a long, slim parcel from underneath the settee.

“There’s also this,” I declare proudly and my eyes are sparkling with amusement. 

Adam eyes me warily and when he pulls off the wrapping he starts to laugh, starting deep down in his chest.  He holds up the umbrella, so vulgarly colourful that it looks as though somebody splashed it with a paint palette and then he uses it to smack me on the backside.

“At least it’s not boring,” I say matter-of-factly, biting down hard on my lip to stop myself from laughing.

“No, Paige,” he answers, shaking his head, “with you in it, my life will never be boring again.”

Chapter 12

Two days after Christmas we drive over to the Institute, both of us eerily quiet, lost in our own thoughts. I think we are both nervous about the psychotherapy, what it may uncover and the consequences that might come later. 

Carl meets us at reception and we make our way to his office.  Once seated, he spends a good 15 minutes briefing us on how the process works and what we can expect.  I am itching to get started; the sooner we begin the sooner it is over, but my nerves are starting to show and I know that the worry is etched on my face.

“I’ll just give you a minute to get comfortable,” the doctor says and he moves across the office to his desk.

Adam smiles up at me reassuringly.

“Are you nervous?” I whisper, feeling my own heart racing in my chest.

“A bit,” he admits, and I frown down at him wondering if we are doing the right thing.

“Stop stressing, Paige,” he places his hand on my knee, “I trust you,”  he grins, then settles back on the couch and stares up at the ceiling, breathing slowly and deeply in and out in an effort to remain calm. I turn to Doctor Sheldon.

“Carl,” I call, “we’re ready for you.” He comes over and looks me straight in the eye.

“Remember, Paige, I'm responsible. Adam is my patient. If I tell you to stop you will stop immediately. Adam will be in a very fragile state under the hypnosis and I will not allow any harm to come to him.  His mind will be vulnerable and I need to make sure that he does not take on more than he can bear. He will also be very suggestible, given the nature of hypnosis. I cannot allow us to unwillingly plant any ideas or suggestions in his head that might affect our treatment. It could undo all of our hard work. Understand?”

“I understand,” I nod solemnly and then I brush a stray curl off Adam’s forehead.

“He thinks I’m a pansy, babe,” he smiles up at me, his blue eyes serious. “You know better.  You do what you have to do.” I kiss him on the forehead and then step away from the sofa allowing Doctor Sheldon through. I take a deep breath and clasp my hands together to stop them from shaking.

Carl takes a seat and clears his throat and I sit down quietly on a nearby chair, my curiosity piqued. I have never seen anyone being hypnotis
ed before, not even at a show. My friend Jacky invited me once, but I had declined; it was too soon after Kevin’s death and I had not yet pulled myself out of my hole.

“Adam, just lie back and relax,” the doc begins in a calm, clear voice and I hide a smile. I am fascinated by the process but I am still not entirely convinced that it is possible.  “Let my voice wash over you, Adam, as you feel your body b
ecoming more and more relaxed. You will find that your eyes too are relaxed. You will notice your eyelids are starting to feel slightly heavier and, as they grow heavier still, I want you to allow them to close. At the same time I want you to let your body sink down more comfortably into the chair. Take deep calming breaths and let your body relax and go numb, let the relaxation drift into your shoulders and let your legs relax and your feet deflate into the floor. A warm feeling makes its way up your neck and down your arms and legs, and I want you to focus on this warm feeling, allowing it to relax you even more. Allow the relaxed state to climb further up into your head and to the very centre of your consciousness.” He sits forward and places his hand on Adam’s arm before he continues and I find that even I am feeling slightly out of it.  Adam’s eyes are still closed and he looks almost as though he is sleeping. “Adam, your mind is very sleepy and I want you to allow it to become sleepier and sleepier until you are completely relaxed.” Adam nods ever so slightly in acknowledgement, and I realise that he is still very aware of his surroundings. It is almost like conscious sedation.

“In your mind’s eye, picture yourself at the top of a flight of ten stairs,” Carl continues, “and at the bottom there is a door, a door that you want to go through. Can you picture that, Adam?” Adam nods again, a dreamy smile on his face. Carl glances across at me and gives an almost imperceptible nod of his head, it is obviously working.

“Right, Adam, as I count backward from ten, I want you to take a step for each count and with every step you are going to become more and more relaxed. Ten, you feel yourself falling deeper into this trance. Nine, your body is so relaxed you can barely feel it. Eight.” The doc’s voice is so calm and soothing that I am battling to keep my own body alert, but as he starts counting I sit forward in my seat, my excitement mounting. I tune out his words focusing only on Adam’s face and the numbers as they are counted down. Doctor Sheldon is still talking.

“Deeper and deeper, Adam, into this relaxed super-comfortable trance; three.
  More and more relaxed and comfortable; two. Peaceful and relaxed; one.” There is an infinitesimal pause and then he once again touches Adam’s arm, adding gravity to his words and then; “Open the door Adam and your body is asleep and your mind is awake.”

There is absolute silence after this statement and I glance across at Carl my eyebrows raised. 

“He’s under,” he confirms, leaning over Adam’s motionless body. He is so still that I find my eyes drawn to the rise and fall of his chest, just to reassure myself that he is still breathing.

“What now?” I whisper. 

“Now,” he answers in a normal but calm voice. “We find Jacob.”

“Adam?” he addresses Adam and to my surprise Adam answers.

“Yes?” 

“Adam, I'm going to ask Jacob to come out now, okay. There is nothing scary about this - you are
very relaxed and comfortable. When I call on Jacob, I want you to allow him through, okay Adam? Don’t fight it.”

“I won’t,” Adam replies confidently.

It takes a few minutes of probing and questioning, to coax Jacob out.

Adam seems to shrink slightly in stature and his face takes on a scared, 'deer-in-the-headlights' look. I am amazed at the enormous physical transformation each of the identities has on Adam’s features.

“Jacob,” Dr Sheldon draws his attention. “How have you been?” Jacob does not answer immediately, but the doc settles back patiently and says no more. After a few minutes Jacob replies with a timid, “Fine, thank you.”

I want to roll my eyes but Carl Sheldon looks satisfied. He holds his finger to his lips indicating that I should remain silent until called upon and I nod my understanding. The doctor sits forward slightly and places his hand on Adam’s arm.

“Jacob. You know that you can trust me,” he begins soothingly. “You know that I'm here to help you.”

“Yes.” This time the one-word answer is slightly quicker. 

Doctor Sheldon does not say anything else and we sit in silence for a few minutes.

“I’m scared.” I jump slightly at the words; I did not expect Jacob would initiate any conversation.

Doctor Sheldon looks pleased.

“I know you are, Jacob. But try to remember I am here to help you. You don’t have to be scared anymore. I can help you get to a place where you will never have to be scared again.”  He pauses for a moment, allowing Jacob to absorb his words before continuing, “Would you like that, Jacob?”

“Yes.” This time there is no hesitation. 

“Jacob,” I sense that Doctor Sheldon is heading towards a delicate subject and I find that I’m biting my nails.

“Jacob, something terrible happened to you, do you remember?” 

“Don’t!” Jacob shrieks suddenly and begins to whimper. My heart breaks for him and I move forward so that he is within touching distance. I lift my hand and then look to Dr Sheldon for approval. He considers this for a moment and then nods, putting out his hand to delay me.

“Jacob, Paige is here with us. You remember Paige, don’t you?” 

“Paige?” Jacob sounds slightly calmer now that we have left the previous uncomfortable line of questioning. Doctor Sheldon drops his hand and nods quickly.

“Yes, Jacob,” I force myself to speak slowly and melodically. “I’m here. I was wondering how you’ve been.” I keep glancing at the doctor for guidance and he nods in approval. 

“I was thinking about what you said, Jacob. You said that you were alone in the dark and it got me thinking. I don’t actually think you are alone, Jacob. I think if you look hard enough, you will find that there is a dog in there with you. I asked my dog to come and keep you company. His name is Fergus. Have you seen him?” 

“No,” Jacob drags the word out uncertainly, but he also sounds much calmer. 

Doctor Sheldon is smiling and nodding his head and I take a deep breath before I continue. My heart is racing and I feel like I am running a marathon such is the emotional effort of what I am doing.

“Are you sure, Jacob?” I force a bit of light into my voice and a tiny bit of concern. “You really haven’t seen him? He’s a little black Scottish terrier with a navy blue collar and a silver dog tag?”

“I don’t think so,” he replies, but there is no mistaking it now, Jacob is sounding far less sure of himself. “Maybe I did but I didn’t know who he was?” he ventures.

“Oh, maybe.” I pretend to ponder that. “I just hope that he’s not lost and alone. He wouldn’t do very well on his own, he needs someone to take care of him.” Doctor Sheldon’s finger flies to his lips and I take his cue immediately, falling silent.

Jacob looks more at ease but maybe I am just becoming accustomed to his fidgeting.  I can barely dare to breathe.

“I’ll look for him,” Jacob suddenly utters and Dr Sheldon brings his fist up to his chin in a triumphant manner. 

“Thank you, Jacob. It’s Fergus, you won’t forget?” I ask.

“I won’t forget,” he promises, sounding more decisive. “If I do find him,” he adds, “do you think he could stay? With me? Just for a little while?” His plea is so earnest that it takes me a moment before I feel confident enough to answer.

“Of course, Jacob,” I swallow, tears pricking at my eyelids. “He can stay with you as long as you like.” 

Doctor Sheldon indicates that I should keep quiet and I am more than happy to oblige; I am struggling to keep control of my emotions. He is speaking in soft tones and it takes a few moments before I realise what he is saying.

“Energy is returning to your muscles; six, you are feeling refreshed; seven, more energy...”

“Wait!” I cry as it dawns on me what he is doing. 

Carl throws up a hand furiously, halting me immediately and I bite my lip to stop from interrupting him again.

“You are feeling so energised that you run up the last few steps, Adam, eight, nine, ten; wide awake!” The doctor sits back and seems to slump in his chair and I realise that it must be a massive emotional drain for him, too.

Adam’s eyes are open and he smiles tentatively at me. 

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I reply, happy to see him again. “Do you remember any of that?” I ask.

“Some of it,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “Weird.”

“I feel so sorry for him,” I can’t help but say.

“He doesn’t exist, Paige,” Adam snaps.

“He does exist, Adam,” Dr Sheldon rebukes gently. “But how are you feeling?”

“Fine, thanks Doc,” Adam stretches out his arms, “I actually feel pretty good.”

“Why did you stop?” I finally blurt out. “I thought we were trying to get to the bottom of
this; why did you end the session so quickly?”

“We can’t overdo it, Paige,” Dr Sheldon sighs. “Jacob seems to trust you, but this will not resolve itself in one session. Jacob is very timid and hates confrontation. We need to make sure that he is completely at ease with you before we start delving any deeper. The last thing we need is for him to withdraw again. Brilliant work, by the way,” he places a proud hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, what was with the dog?” Adam grins. “Only you, Paige. Where do you come up with this stuff?”

“He likes dogs,” I shrug shyly. “I thought it would help. I don’t like the thought of him being all alone.” Adam is looking at me as though I have lost my mind.   

“I think it was a stroke of genius,” Dr Sheldon addresses Adam directly. “It was suggestive, which is usually not advisable under hypnosis, but in this instance it can only have helped.  Dogs are what Freudians term 'transitional objects' like a teddy or a blanket for a baby – these objects are soothing and pacifying.”

‘Do you think he’ll find the dog, Fergus?” I ask, praying that Jacob will not be alone again until the next time we put Adam under.

“Oh, I'm absolutely certain that he will dear. Not really, of course, because when Adam or any of the other
alters
are present, Jacob ceases to exist – there is no consciousness – but because you have suggested it, you have planted an idea and he will remember that. He will believe that he has found the dog and that he is therefore not alone.”

I have not really understood a word of what he is saying, but over all it seems positive. 

“Are you ready to go?” I ask Adam. It is only midday but I feel like I could sleep for a week.

“Sure, let’s go,” he nods. “Just give me a minute with the doc, will you?” 

“Sure,” I smile in confusion and head for the door. “I’ll meet you at the car.”