Lady of Hay Barbara Erskine (reading books for 7 year olds TXT) 📖

than a handbag if you try a trick like that again, " Jo said. Her voice was cool as she glanced at him over the menu. "I absolutely forbid you to talk to Carl Bennet about me. What I do is none of your damn business. I am not your patient. I have never been your patient, and I don't intend to be. What I do and what I write is my own affair. And the people I consult in the course of my research have a right to privacy. I do not expect you to harass them, or me. Is that quite clear?"

"Okay. I surrender. I've said I apologize. " He raised his hands. "What more can I do?"

"Don't ever go behind my back again. "

"You must trust me, Jo. I've said I'm sorry. But I am interested. And I do have a right to worry about you. I have more right than you'll ever know. " He paused for a moment. "So you decided to see him again. You'd better tell me what happened. Did you learn anything more about your alter ego?"

"A bit. " Jo relented. "About her marriage to William ... " She was watching his face in the candlelight. The restaurant was dark, crowded now at the peak evening hour, and very hot. Sam was sweating slightly as he looked at her, his eyes fixed on her face. The pupils were very small. Without knowing why, she felt herself shiver slightly. "Nothing dramatic happened. It was all rather low key after the first session. " Her voice trailed away suddenly. Low key? The violence! The rape! The agony of that man thrusting his way into her child's resisting body, silencing her desperate screams with a coarse, unclean hand across her mouth, laughing at her terror. She realized that Sam was still watching her and looked away hastily.

"Jo?" He reached across and lightly ran his thumb across her wrist. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Of course. It's just a bit hot in here. " She withdrew her hand a little too quickly. "Let's eat. I'm starving. "

They waited in silence as the waiter brought their anti-pasto. As they were starting to eat, Sam said thoughtfully, "William was very close to King John, did you know that?"

Jo stared up at him. "You've been looking it up?"

"A bit. I have a feeling William was much maligned. Historians seem to doubt if the massacre was his idea at all. He was a useful pawn, the man at the sharp end, the one to carry it out and take the blame. But not quite as bad as you seemed to think. "

"He enjoyed it. " Jo's voice was full of icy condemnation. "He enjoyed every moment of that slaughter!" She shuddered violently and then she leaned forward. "Sam. I want you to do something for me. I want you to do whatever you have to do to lift that posthypnotic suggestion that I forget that first session in Edinburgh. I have to remember what happened!"

"No. " Sam shook his head slowly. "No. I'm sorry. I can't do that. "

"You can't, or you won't?" Jo put down her fork with a clatter.

"I won't. But I probably couldn't anyway. It would involve rehypnosis, and I'm not prepared to try to meddle with something Michael Cohen did. "

"If you won't, I'll get Carl Bennet to do it. " Jo's eyes were fixed on his. She saw his jaw muscles tighten.

"That wouldn't work, Jo. "

"It would. I've been reading up about hypnosis. Believe me, I haven't been sitting around the last few days wondering what is happening to me. There are hundreds of books on the subject and—"

"I said no, Jo. " Sam sat back slowly, moving sideways slightly to ease his long legs under the small table. "Remember what I told you. You are too suggestible a subject. And don't pretend that you are not reacting deeply again, because you have proved you are. Not only under hypnosis either. It is possible that you are susceptible to delayed reaction. For instance, Nick has told me what happened at your grandmother's house. "

Jo looked up, stunned. "Nick doesn't know what happened, " she said tightly. "At least—" She stopped abruptly.

"Supposing you tell me what you think happened. " Sam did not look at her. He was staring at the candle flame as it flared sideways in the draft as someone stood at the next table and reached for her coat.

Jo hesitated. "Nothing, " she said at last. "I fainted, that's all. It had nothing to do with anything. So are you going to help me?"

For a moment he did not answer, lost in contemplation of the candle, the shadows playing across his face. Then once more he shook his head. "Leave it alone, Jo, " he said softly. "Otherwise you may start something you can't finish. "

Chapter 13

"May I have the Maclean file, please?" Nick's assistant's voice was becoming bored. "For Jim, if it isn't too much trouble!" Behind her the office door swung to and fro in the draft from the open window.

Nick focused on her suddenly. "Sorry, Jane. What did you say?"

"The Maclean file, Nick. I'll try to get Jo again, shall I?" Jane sighed exaggeratedly. She was a tall, willowy girl whose high cheekbones and upper class accent were at variance with the three parallel streaks of iridescent orange, pink, and green in her short-cropped hair. "Though why we go on trying when she is obviously out, I don't know. "

"Don't bother!" Nick slammed his pen down on the desk. He bent to rummage for the file and threw it across to her. "Jim has remembered that I'm supposed to be going to Paris next Wednesday?"

"He's remembered. " Jane put on her calming voice. It infuriated Nick.

"Good. Then from this moment I can leave the office in your hands, can I?"

"Why, where are you going until Wednesday?" Jane held the file clasped to her chest like a shield.

"Tomorrow