Hidden by Derick Parsons @1_DerickParsons

6:00 AM | Labels: Excerpt

After his inspection he said softly, ‘I tried to contact you in England after you were attacked, but you just disappeared.’

The reminder of what had been done to her hurt, as always, and she hung her head in totally unreasonable embarrassment. ‘I wasn’t alone, as you know,’ she said painfully, wishing he would stop even though she knew he was motivated solely by concern for her.

He made a wry face, ‘Peter’s a great guy, but he’s no therapist, now is he?’

‘Therapy isn’t everything,’ she responded lightly, ‘I just needed to get away from the rest of the world for a while.’

He shook his head disapprovingly, ‘Dealing with your problems by running away from them? For an experienced counsellor you’re remarkably shy about analysing yourself, your own actions and motives.’

‘It’s none of your damned business what I did, or do!’ Kate flared suddenly, ‘So don’t come the psychiatrist with me!’

He smiled with maddening calm, ‘On the contrary it is my business, because I love you. Oh, I know our affair ended after you took up with that awful guy but I still care about you. I don’t have many close friends and I try to look after the few I do have.’

Her anger faded and she smiled sadly, ‘I love you too, Trev, but like I said, I had Peter then, and I didn’t need anyone else. Just time away from the whole world to lick my wounds. I’ve always dealt with things my own way, in my own time. You know that.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘I do know.’ By pretending they don’t exist, he thought but had enough sense not to say. Instead he grinned and said slyly, ‘You buried yourself somewhere and wrote those bloody awful books.’

She instantly rose to the bait. ‘Awful? Did you bother descending from Mount Olympus long enough to actually read any of them?’

He roared with laughter and spun his swivel chair in a complete circle until he was facing her again. ‘Yes, I did, actually! Oh, it’s good to have you back, if only because you’re so easy to get a rise out of! I read them, and thought they were pretty good. The first was a bit simplistic, but I guess it was aimed at the intelligent layman rather than mental health professionals. The second was better, and the last was the best of all. Quite scholarly, but still accessible.’

He waved his hand at the vast bookcase that dominated one whole wall and she saw hardback copies of all three of her books. She turned back to him and shook her head, ‘Damn you, Trevor Jordan, you’re impossible! And if you think the last was the best you should talk to my publisher; it didn’t sell at all well and now I think she’s avoiding me in case I ever finish the fourth. Which, I may say, right now doesn’t seem very likely.’

He made a sympathetic face, ‘It went too deep for public consumption, I think. Too much scholarship and not enough sentiment and glib, chat-show solutions. The public want to be entertained, not educated.’