Chapter 7

My next call was to Sarah Green, I tried her home number and just got the answerphone, I left a message and then tried her office number. Her secretary told me that she was with a client, but that she’d call me back within an hour, when she was finished.

Which gave us an hour to kill before we were picked up to go to Cal’s counselling session.

Cal came and curled herself up on my lap, resting her head on my shoulder. Without even thinking about it, I bent my head down and kissed the top of her head softly.

And that’s how we were an hour later when we were interrupted by the room phone ringing to tell us that our lift to the medical centre where we were meeting the counsellor was here.

We stood up. Shook ourselves properly awake then disappeared into the respective bathrooms to splash water on our faces. Then we walked together out of the room and down the corridor to the lifts.

We were met by George, who led us out to a car and once we were all in and buckled up, we set off for our destination, which George assured us was only a few minutes.

Obviously, they have a different concept of a few minutes in LA since it was more than half an hour before we arrived at a very modern steel and glass medical centre, and George led us into the Psychological Services department.

We were shown to seats in a pleasant, light and airy waiting room, and told that the doctor would be with us in a few minutes.

Unusually, it was just a few minutes before a pleasant looking woman in her mid or possibly late thirties, with deep red hair and a brilliant smile came in through a door opposite the one that we’d entered by.

“Calista?” she asked.

Cal raised her hand.

“That’s me, but please, I prefer just Cal,” she said.

“Cal it is then, I’m Doctor Mary Benson, if we’re being formal, or just Mary if you prefer.”

She led Cal into the back office, after suggesting that they’d be at least an hour, so if we wanted, there was a coffee shop next door that did very good coffee, and doughnuts.

George suggested that we go there for coffee, but I decided that we’d get take-aways, just in case Cal finished early.

We arrived back in about ten minutes and settled down to wait, leafing through the magazines provided in the waiting room. I have to admit, they were more up to date than the ones you normally found in a UK doctor’s waiting room.

It was over an hour before Cal came out, and when she did, she looked like it had been a harrowing experience. I looked at Doctor Benson, a question in my eyes, but she just said goodbye to Cal and that she’d see her again in two days, then closed the door behind her as she left the room.

“Are you all right?” I asked as she came back to where I was sitting.

She just shook her head silently.

“Can we go?” she asked.

I stood up and held my hand out to her, she took it and we left the building.

We walked hand in hand to where the car had been parked and set off back to the hotel.

While we were on the way my phone rang, and the caller ID said it was Sarah Green.

“Hi Sarah, you asked me to call today,” I said as I answered.

“Yes, thank you David, sorry I was delayed getting back to you, but we had an emergency here.”

“That’s OK,” I said, “we’re just grateful you’re taking time to help out.”

“Think of it as payback for you taking time to help my daughter,” she replied, “anyway, the reason for my call. I was talking to a colleague of mine in Chicago, without giving out any personal details, and she specialises in counselling people who have been the victims of abuse and rape. We both agree that from the evidence we can see, Cal was certainly abused in Germany, and probably raped as well. I had a word with her, she’s very good, one of the most highly regarded in the field, and, if you can get to Chicago, she’d be willing to see both you and Cal, and see what she can do to help.”

“Really, I don’t know how easy or difficult it is to get to Chicago from here, but I can look into it. Good, then let me text you the details, and you can contact her direct, just tell her secretary that I arranged for you to call her.”

“I will, thanks, Sarah,” I answered, “what’s her name?””

“Doctor Krajick, Doctor Bethany Krajick.”

“I’ll call when we get back to the hotel,” I said, “thanks again Sarah.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, “how’s Cal holding up?”

“Pretty well, she’s much more like the old Cal,” I replied, “and she looks a lot better. Not as gaunt, she’s just had her first counselling session here.”

“It’s good that she’s doing that, but you should take her to see Bethany if you can.”

“I’ll do my absolute best, Sarah,” I answered, “how’s Cindy getting on?”

“Snowed under,” she said, “she and her friends have had over 10,000 applications to join the fan club, they’ve got a website up, and they’ve started an online petition to free Cal.”

I smiled at that.

“Tell them thank you from both of us.”

“Why don’t you ring her and tell her yourself? You’ve still got our home number, haven’t you?” she asked.

“I’ve still got her mobile number,” I replied, “if you remember, we bought it for her.”

“Of course, anyway I must go, I have another client coming in, you two take care,” she said.

“We will.”

We said goodbye and ended the call.

“Sarah,” I said to Cal, with a smile.

“Oh,” she said, flatly.

“She’s found a colleague who specialises in abuse and rape cases, she wants us to go and see her,” I told her, “the problem is she’s in Chicago.”

“Is that far?” she asked.

“Two thousand miles or so, we’d have to fly.”

“Won’t that be expensive?” she asked.

“Not if this woman can help you get better,” I replied, “do you want to talk about this morning?”

“When we get back to the hotel,” she replied, and lapsed into silence.

George left us in the hotel foyer, and we went up to the room on our own. I let us in, and as soon as we walked into the room, Cal pointed me at the sofa.

“Sit,” she said, “we need to talk.”

I sat.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked.

“This morning, Munich, us,” she replied, “I’m getting some bits of memory of it. It’s not pretty.”

“Can we start with this morning?” I asked, “what was Doctor Benson’s take on what the problem is.”

“Basically, what she said was most of the problem was me,” she began.

“How could she say that?” I spat, “you were an innocent party. Unless you’ve told her something you haven’t told me.”

“No, what I meant was, that the problem lies inside me. I was so horrified at what happened, at my allowing myself to get put into that situation, that my mind just shut it out,” she said, “if I can get past that, effectively forgive myself for what happened, then I should be able to accept the situation for what it was, and probably get my memories back.”

“Then what can I do to help?” I asked.

“I’m not sure you can yet,” he replied, “I think it’s something I have to come to terms with myself. At the moment, the little I remember, and the things other people have told me make me feel dirty, degraded. I need to get past that before I can really start healing. And mending things.”

“Mending things?” I asked.

“With you, my Mum, your family, friends at school,” she said, “all the relationships that were ruined by Munich.”

“So, what do you want from me, Cal?” I asked, “do you want to be my girlfriend again?”

“No,” she replied, which surprised me.

“It’s all right Cal, you know I never stopped loving you.”

“And I never stopped loving you, I still do,” she said, “but the answer really should be no, but yes.”

Now I was confused.

“Yes, David, I want to be your girlfriend again,” she continued, “But I don’t want to be your current girlfriend, and I don’t want to be your next girlfriend. What I want to be is your last girlfriend. I want to be the one that you slip a ring onto the finger of, the one who is yours forever. I’m not ready for that, and I don’t think you are either.”

“So what do we do in the meantime?” I asked.

“We could fuck like bunnies,” she suggested.

“Cal,” I protested.

“I’m joking,” she said, “I don’t think you and I could ever just fuck.”

“So what do you want us to do?” I asked.

“Could we start again please?” she said, “from the beginning. Become friends? See where that leads us?”

“Cal, I don’t think we can do that,” I said.

Disappointment clouded her face and I thought she was about to start crying.

“Cal,” I went on, “we’re not five any more. We have ten years of history behind us. We can’t just say all that never happened. And besides that, we’ve never stopped being friends, we only stopped being lovers. Is that what you want to start again from the beginning of?”

She paused for a moment, before she looked at me and then quietly nodded her head.

“Why Cal?”

“Why,” she repeated, looking wistful, “he asks why.”

“David,” she went on, “I feel dirty. I feel sullied and used. I want to feel clean again, whole again. I need to know that I’m not just being used as a collection of holes. I want someone who loves me for me to actually make love to me, because I’m me, and not that collection. Can you understand that?”

“I think I can, Cal, and I hope you realise that I’ve never looked on you in that way.”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I didn’t,” she replied.

“So, am I right that you think that if you and I were to make love, that would show you that you weren’t dirty, that you can be loved for yourself?”

She nodded her head silently. My mind went back a few months to a very similar conversation in a Manchester hotel room. What Charlie had asked me for then was almost exactly the same as Cal was asking now. A validation of her as a woman, not just two tits and three holes. Could I legitimately say I loved Cal, and was her friend, if I didn’t do the same for her. But, I still had the problem of my belief in no cheating. I hadn’t been in contact with Charlie since she had left for Dubai, but we’d left it that we were still involved, and would see each other when she returned, and the implication had been that we’d carry on from where we left off.

“Cal, you know it’s a problem, don’t you?” I asked.

“Why?” she answered.

“Charlie, cheating,” I said.

“But she’s gone to Dubai,” Cal objected.

“And she’ll be coming back,” I replied.