exhales, tips her head back. The sky is perfectly clear but for the vapour trail of an aircraft, like an unseen hand sketching a chalk line across a pale blue page.
For the next few minutes they talk more generally about Shiv’s life since Kyritos, especially about the effect of Declan’s death on Mum and Dad.
“They’re going to miss you, these next two months,” Dr Pollard says.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Shiv doesn’t dilute the sarcasm. She thinks of Mum, so absorbed in grief she barely registers Shiv from one day to the next. As for Dad, he’ll be “working late” again tonight, or planning his next trip to Greece in his quest for “justice”. “Actually, they can hardly bear to look at me any more.”
The Director studies her, her expression unreadable.
“So, it’s good if I’m out of the way for a bit. You know? They don’t have to keep being reminded that, if it wasn’t for me, their son would still be alive.”
“You believe what you wrote in your book? That you killed your brother.”
“Yes. I do.”
“It’s interesting,” Dr Pollard says.
“What is?”
“Just how emphatic you are about that.”
“It’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?” Shiv says. “Lucy’s baby niece dies because she doesn’t check on her; Mikey’s sister drowns because he can’t save her; Caron kills her best friend by giving her Ecstasy.” She stops, thinking about the other two. Helen’s father died in a skiing accident after she fell and he swerved to avoid her; Docherty crashed a car – his girlfriend didn’t survive.
Dr Pollard spreads her arms. “Yes, you are all here for the same basic reason. Each one of you believes you killed someone you loved.”
“Believes?”
“Believes.”
“And, what, you’re going to make us believe we didn’t?”
The Director says, “Let me take you back to the question I asked earlier: Why are you here? What do you hope to get from us, from your time at the Korsakoff Clinic?” She wants an honest answer this time, her tone says.
“Do you want to ‘get well’?” she prompts, when Shiv doesn’t respond. “Do you want to ‘move on’? Do you want to return to being the girl you were before, the kind of girl everyone else expects you to be? Is that it?”
“No,” Shiv says, after a bit. “That’s not why I’m here.”
The woman nods. “Of course not.”
Shiv places her hands on her thighs to stop them trembling. Her gaze drifts to the biscuit crumbs scattered on Dr Pollard’s plate, to the napkin, flapping again in the strengthening breeze. She gives an involuntary shudder, cold all of a sudden.
“So, why are you with us, Siobhan?” the Director asks. Gently.
It takes Shiv an age to get the words out but, finally, she says, “Because if I can’t find a way to live—” She breathes.
“What?”
Shiv starts over. “I’m here because I don’t know how to live with what I did to Declan.”
Kyritos
After a picnic lunch on the beach they still had almost three hours before Shiv and Dec were due back at the villa. Nikos suggested they’d windsurfed enough for one day and how about a trip to the most special place on the island? Shiv, who’d windsurfed enough for one lifetime , was quick to agree and, for all his bravado after being rescued, her brother raised no objection.
“Thank you,” Shiv whispered to Nikos as they loaded the rigs in the pick-up.
“For what?”
“For giving him an easy get-out.”
“I’m a guy too, remember,” Nikos whispered. “We don’t like to lose face.”
He drove inland, following a zigzag route into the hills. Only a 4x4 vehicle and a driver with a steady nerve could handle those gradients, those hairpin bends on steep drops into the valley below.
“And this is safer than windsurfing?” Shiv said, over the roar of the engine.
“It is so long as I keep my eyes on the road,” Nikos said, turning to grin at her.
“Nikos!”
He looked forwards again, laughing, swinging
For the next few minutes they talk more generally about Shiv’s life since Kyritos, especially about the effect of Declan’s death on Mum and Dad.
“They’re going to miss you, these next two months,” Dr Pollard says.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Shiv doesn’t dilute the sarcasm. She thinks of Mum, so absorbed in grief she barely registers Shiv from one day to the next. As for Dad, he’ll be “working late” again tonight, or planning his next trip to Greece in his quest for “justice”. “Actually, they can hardly bear to look at me any more.”
The Director studies her, her expression unreadable.
“So, it’s good if I’m out of the way for a bit. You know? They don’t have to keep being reminded that, if it wasn’t for me, their son would still be alive.”
“You believe what you wrote in your book? That you killed your brother.”
“Yes. I do.”
“It’s interesting,” Dr Pollard says.
“What is?”
“Just how emphatic you are about that.”
“It’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?” Shiv says. “Lucy’s baby niece dies because she doesn’t check on her; Mikey’s sister drowns because he can’t save her; Caron kills her best friend by giving her Ecstasy.” She stops, thinking about the other two. Helen’s father died in a skiing accident after she fell and he swerved to avoid her; Docherty crashed a car – his girlfriend didn’t survive.
Dr Pollard spreads her arms. “Yes, you are all here for the same basic reason. Each one of you believes you killed someone you loved.”
“Believes?”
“Believes.”
“And, what, you’re going to make us believe we didn’t?”
The Director says, “Let me take you back to the question I asked earlier: Why are you here? What do you hope to get from us, from your time at the Korsakoff Clinic?” She wants an honest answer this time, her tone says.
“Do you want to ‘get well’?” she prompts, when Shiv doesn’t respond. “Do you want to ‘move on’? Do you want to return to being the girl you were before, the kind of girl everyone else expects you to be? Is that it?”
“No,” Shiv says, after a bit. “That’s not why I’m here.”
The woman nods. “Of course not.”
Shiv places her hands on her thighs to stop them trembling. Her gaze drifts to the biscuit crumbs scattered on Dr Pollard’s plate, to the napkin, flapping again in the strengthening breeze. She gives an involuntary shudder, cold all of a sudden.
“So, why are you with us, Siobhan?” the Director asks. Gently.
It takes Shiv an age to get the words out but, finally, she says, “Because if I can’t find a way to live—” She breathes.
“What?”
Shiv starts over. “I’m here because I don’t know how to live with what I did to Declan.”
Kyritos
After a picnic lunch on the beach they still had almost three hours before Shiv and Dec were due back at the villa. Nikos suggested they’d windsurfed enough for one day and how about a trip to the most special place on the island? Shiv, who’d windsurfed enough for one lifetime , was quick to agree and, for all his bravado after being rescued, her brother raised no objection.
“Thank you,” Shiv whispered to Nikos as they loaded the rigs in the pick-up.
“For what?”
“For giving him an easy get-out.”
“I’m a guy too, remember,” Nikos whispered. “We don’t like to lose face.”
He drove inland, following a zigzag route into the hills. Only a 4x4 vehicle and a driver with a steady nerve could handle those gradients, those hairpin bends on steep drops into the valley below.
“And this is safer than windsurfing?” Shiv said, over the roar of the engine.
“It is so long as I keep my eyes on the road,” Nikos said, turning to grin at her.
“Nikos!”
He looked forwards again, laughing, swinging
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