Chapter Two #2
‘And why is it that you’re living with Cole?’ She knew the answer, based on the court-supplied notes, but hearing Owen’s perspective would help establish his feelings about his family.
A shake of the head. ‘My dad had an accident. He has to do a lot of rehab. But that’s not the real reason. It’s just an excuse.’
‘Excuse?’
‘They want Cole to sort me out.’ A sneer. ‘They don’t want to deal with me anymore. And they want to get me away from my friends.’
Interesting. Owen had a very large chip balancing precariously on his shoulder. A boulder, in fact, ready to teeter right over the edge of the cliff.
‘How did you feel about going to live with your brother?’
‘Don’t really care. At least it got me out of home for a while.’
‘And you’re not going to school?’ Owen wasn’t yet sixteen, according to the information she’d been given.
‘Nup. I’m doing work experience with Cole. As a farrier.’
Hence the arm muscles on the brother. And the sun-kissed skin edging out from his collar.
‘That’s strenuous work. Do you like it?’
‘It’s all right. Pretty boring. But I get paid.’
‘Do you like horses?’
‘Never had much to do with them before. They’re okay, I guess.’
If Eve Nicholls had been back at work, this kid could be a good contender for some equine therapy, but in the meantime, the traditional kind would have to suffice.
She glanced down at her notes. ‘So, you’ve been living there for a couple of months now?’
A nod.
‘It must get a little lonely.’ Hundreds of tiny pins stabbed at the inside of her skin. She shifted in her seat, uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them in the opposite direction.
Owen looked down and picked at the already raw skin around his fingernails. Gave a shrug. ‘There’s ways around it.’
‘Like?’
‘Some of my mates can drive. I get to see them sometimes.’
‘Is that when you’re able to buy drugs?’ Yarrabee was no different to any other town—or city, for that matter—there was always someone willing to provide you with whatever you needed for the right price. And based on what she’d read, Owen was definitely in with a wayward crowd.
He gave a rough laugh. ‘It’s not like weed is that bad. It’s legal in other countries. And they use it here for medical stuff.’
‘True. But for better or worse, it remains illegal in Australia. And it can have negative consequences if used to excess—reduced concentration, memory loss, increased anxiety, depression; even schizophrenic episodes.’
Owen rolled his eyes as she rattled off the possible side effects.
‘How often have you been smoking it?’
‘Most days.’ At least the kid was being honest.
‘And when was the last time you had any?’
‘When I was caught joyriding in Cole’s ute.’ He stuck out his bottom lip in a childish pout. ‘He’s been watching me like a hawk ever since.’
Joyriding? A sharp pain started at the base of her skull, as if someone had pierced the hollow pocket of flesh at her nape with a darning needle.
She gave her head a small twist and checked the notes she’d printed off.
Damn it! The summary mentioned the drug taking and some small-time dealing but it ended at the bottom of the page in the middle of a sentence and the third page was blank.
The printer must have had a hissy fit. Okay.
It was okay. She could do this. Glueing her spine to the back of the chair, she forced her attention back to Owen.
Get the words out, Hannah. This is about Owen, no one else.
True, but a tangent wouldn’t hurt either of them.
She asked him a series of questions about his childhood, his hobbies, more about his school experience and his relationships with his parents, but none of that was getting to the crux of the matter.
Finally, her body at ease and her breathing steady, she steered the conversation back to the reason he was here.
‘So … tell me what happened when you illegally drove your brother’s car.’ Good. Not even a waver in her voice.
‘I didn’t steal it, I borrowed it.’
‘Without permission from the owner.’ A hot flush crept up her neck. She’d forgotten to turn on the aircon. That was all. Nothing a sip of water wouldn’t fix.
‘I lost control and crashed it into a tree.’ Owen gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘It was his old ute. He only used it for paddock bashing.’
Her whole body tensed, as if bracing for the impact as the ute careened off the road. She swallowed hard. Pressed her damp palms against her thighs. She had to stay on top of this, keep it professional, at least give the impression she knew the full details of the case. Start with the obvious .
‘Fortunately, you weren’t injured.’
‘Walked away without a scratch.’ He may as well have brushed his palms together in a take-that gesture, he was so pleased with himself. ‘But the car was a total wreck. Which is why Cole pressed charges, the arsehole.’
Car a total wreck. Driver died at scene. Old headlines screamed from the buried archives in her brain. Her jaw clenched. The screech of tyres pierced her eardrums.
The searing smell of rubber burning on asphalt. A deafening thud. Bones crunching beneath metal. Sirens wailing. Someone screaming.
‘Are you okay?’
Hannah’s eyes flew open. Black dots jostled around the outline of the boy sitting across from her. Her palms were pressed against her temples, fingers rigid as knives. She lowered her hands. Blinked. Shook her head. ‘Sorry, I think I have a migraine coming on.’
‘Does that mean we’re done?’ He shuffled forward as if preparing to leave.
They’d barely scratched the surface of Owen’s behavioural issues and she was letting her own shit get in the way of her job.
So unethical. So irresponsible. Getting this kid to admit he’d done anything wrong was going to be a challenge.
He hadn’t hurt anyone, had no qualms about breaking the law and was here under sufferance.
All she had to do was tick the boxes, get through the required number of sessions and sign off on the paperwork.
But would that stop him doing the same thing again?
Endangering his life and the lives of others just so he could get some kicks?
She had to see this through to the end. Try and make Owen understand the consequences of his actions. But maybe it would be better to call it a day and start afresh now she knew more about the situation. When she would be more together. More professional.
She drew in a slow breath, exhaling as she spoke. ‘If you don’t mind, we might finish there for today. Next time we’ll look at some strategies for coping with cravings and talk more about your family.’
Owen stood.
‘See you next Thursday.’
No goodbye. Just the banging of the door as he hot-footed it out of the office.
Hannah leaned back in her chair and covered her face with her hands. What the hell was she thinking, letting her mind run away with her like that? She was better than that, had worked hard to block out the past, had always prided herself on her professionalism.
Maybe it wasn’t just being blindsided by the details of Owen’s case.
Maybe the unexpected appearance of the decorations in the cafe or Hugh’s mention of the tree light-up had messed with her head.
Or the bad news from Lenore? Or maybe that weird reaction she’d had to meeting Cole Morgan had thrown her off kilter?
Not that any of that should matter. Her job—or rather, her calling—was to help people sort themselves out, find better ways of dealing with and expressing their emotions so they could live life to the full.
God, she sounded like a guide on a career options field day.
Even so, it was true. She knew enough about dysfunction to be able to put herself in her client’s shoes.
But this case cut way too close to the bone.
Why did it have to land in her lap now, when her walls were already starting to crack?
Standing, she collected her water bottle from the desk and took a long, deep draft.
Her next client wasn’t due until twelve.
Maybe some fresh air and a coffee was all she needed to clear her head.
She pulled open the door and there was Crystal, phone pressed to her ear, peering at the computer screen.
‘Dr Rasmussen can see you on Tuesday, December seventeen, at two pm for an initial consult. Please bring the referral from your GP. Thank you.’ Efficient and polite.
Impressive. Despite her misgivings about sharing the small office space, having someone else deal with the phone calls and bookings was a huge relief.
Crystal hung up, pushed her hair back with both hands and gave a smile worthy of a toothpaste advertisement. ‘Everything okay?’ She had a maternal kind of face, soft with crinkles around her eyes, although she too was probably only in her mid-thirties.
‘Yes. Fine. All good out here?’
‘Fabulous.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Owen Morgan left in a hurry.’
Based on Crystal’s implied question, he hadn’t said why.
So, no need to provide any further enlightenment.
‘Can you book him in again for the same time next week and send him a confirmation email?’ Considering the decline in her own organisational skills, evidenced by her inability to fully print a set of case notes, she may as well take full advantage of having good office help.
‘I’m just going to grab a coffee before my next appointment. ’
Crystal sprang to her feet. ‘I can get it for you.’
‘No.’ She held up her hand. There was a limit to letting others carry your load. And she could do with the fresh air. ‘I’d like to stretch my legs.’
‘Okay.’ Crystal dropped back into her seat, looking a little crestfallen. ‘I’ll keep sorting through these emails.’ She grimaced. ‘Lots of spam.’
Spam? Really? Come to think of it, she had let the admin slide. Could her inefficiency be something to do with the looming holiday season? She stepped out onto the verandah, closed the door behind her, leaned against it and let her eyes shut. This was no more than a temporary glitch.
Everything was completely under control.