Living with Shadows (22 page)

Something else she found disturbing was his complete lack of inhibition, the way he wrote to her as though there was something more between them. She had never flirted with him or given him any encouragement—God knows he had enough problems. It was as though he’d created a fantasy world to block out the other,
real
, world. Perhaps it was the only way he could cope. In order to endure the pain, he needed to create something that gave him pleasure, and he had made her the focus of his fantasy.

She was scared. She wanted to tell someone what was happening but she’d promised Michael she would not discuss what he’d written with anyone. Part of her wanted to get out of this situation and yet she felt she couldn’t just abandon him. She had to try to make him feel as though life did have something to offer, that there would eventually be an end to his suffering, which didn’t have to result in his death. As for his fantasy world, well, there wasn’t a lot she could do about that except try to discourage him from writing in such graphic detail about his sexual exploits, and to make it quite clear that she wasn’t going to ‘let her imagination and mind run wild’ and tell him anything that goes on in her head.

First
of
all,
Michael,
I
have
to
let
you
know
that
I
cannot
tell
you
personal
things
about
myself,
or
write
to
you
in
the
way
you
suggest,
e.g.
opening
up
to
you
and
‘letting
my
imagination
run
wild’.
I’m
sorry
if
you
think
that
because
you’ve
told
me
personal
things
about
yourself,
I
can
write
about
myself
in
the
same
way.
As
well
as
being
your
tutor,
I
do
see
you
as
a
friend,
but
I
couldn’t
possibly
write
about
the
things
you’d
like
me
to.

I
don’t
want
you
to
put
me
on
a
pedestal.
I
simply
want
to
help
you
get
through
this
awful
pain
you’re
going
through.
As
for
the
black
top,
I’m
afraid
I
won’t
be
wearing
it
again
for
work.
From
now
on,
it
will
be
confined
to
weekends!
I’m
sorry
if
all
this
sounds
a
bit
harsh
but
I
don’t
want
you
to
get
the
wrong
impression.

So
now
to
my
main
concern.
It
worries
me
that
you
are
being
so
hard
on
yourself.
You
really
must
tell
someone
about
the
way
you
are
feeling.
You
sound
very
depressed
and
if
you
talk
to
someone,
you
might
get
the
help
you
need.

Yet
again,
I
found
it
quite
incredible
to
hear
about
the
terrible
things
that
people
did
to
you,
especially
having
to
put
up
with
your
tormentors
for
all
those
years.
Also,
the
girl
you
mentioned
who
told
everyone
about
your
‘little
problem’
was
extremely
cruel
to
do
a
thing
like
that.
I
don’t
think
many
girls
would
be
so
unkind—you
just
met
the
wrong
one.
You
are
a
very
attractive
young
man,
Michael,
and
one
day,
when
you
get
out
of
prison,
I’m
sure
you
will
meet
someone
who
would
love
you
for
the
person
you
have
become.

I
know
that
you
are
really
sorry
for
what
you
did
and
I
know
how
much
pain
you
are
going
through
but
taking
your
own
life
won’t
bring
that
man
back.
Other
people
have
committed
similar,
even
worse,
crimes,
come
out
of
prison
and
started
a
new
life.
There
is
hope
if
you
will
only
believe
in
it.

At
least
think
about
finding
someone
to
talk
to.
I
know
you
can’t
talk
to
just
anyone
about
how
you
feel
but
maybe
if
you
told
the
doctor
he
could
perhaps
put
you
in
touch
with
someone
who
can
help.

I
hope
I
haven’t
offended
or
hurt
you
by
anything
I’ve
written,
Michael.
Believe
me,
I
would
never
intentionally
do
that.

Anyway,
look
after
yourself
and
try
to
keep
smiling.

Kate

She saw Michael the following week. He looked really pleased to see her. The change in him from the previous Friday was encouraging.

She quickly handed him her letter. His eyes sparkled as he pushed it into his trouser pocket making her realise just how much he enjoyed receiving them. She had not read the content since writing it and hoped he would not be too upset about her chastisement of him. She knew how touchy he could be but she had to say something to make him realise he’d over-stepped the mark.

Michael confessed he had still not touched the work she’d taken him a few weeks earlier. ‘Can’t concentrate. ‘You’d think it’d be quiet in here but it isn’t. Always something going on. Nights are no better. The guy in the next bed snores so loud I bet they can hear him on the wings. I threw a pair of socks at him last night.’

‘I don’t blame you.’ Jim’s snoring is pretty deafening at times, especially after a drink.’

They had chatted for about half an hour before he asked her a favour.

‘They’re holding a case conference about me next Thursday.’

‘That’s a bit soon, isn’t it?’

He disregarded her concerns. ‘Do you think you could come to it? I know you don’t come in on a Thursday, but you know more than anyone about me. I’m not sure what they’ll ask you but I’d feel better if you were there.’

‘Of course I will. Are you sure you’re up to it . . . I mean, it’s not that long . . .’

‘I’ve no choice.’

‘What sort of things do you think they’ll want to know?’

‘Just how I’ve been doing in education . . . whether I get on with everyone, that sort of thing.’

I considered this a moment. Michael was a model pupil in class but he never seemed to have any friends. ‘You were getting on fine, really, except . . .’

He looked up. ‘Except what?’

‘Well, you never seem to talk to many people.’

‘That’s because I don’t trust anyone in here. Would you?’

She laughed. ‘I suppose you’ve got a point, but it must get a bit lonely not having any friends.’