Human Remains

talking, and as she did so I responded appropriately, teasing out the story like pulling on an unravelling thread, and then watching her come apart. She had been working at a superstore as a management trainee, and the boss there had been flirting with her for weeks and weeks. He was older than her, and gradually she began to fall for his charms and admit to herself that she found him attractive. Eventually one night after work she agreed to meet him for a drink, and from there they went back to the store. I wanted details, of course – this was the interesting bit, after all – but to press her on that would be to distract from the main purpose of our conversation, which was to help her find the right path. Reminding her of the details of the sexual affair that followed was not going to do that. So – they had an affair which seemed to consist mainly of sex in the store after hours, or in his car parked in isolated rural locations. And then his wife discovered what was going on, and a humiliating encounter at work followed, with Leah shamed in front of all of the staff and a good few customers too. I wouldn’t have believed it possible when first meeting her – such a shy, quiet girl – but she genuinely didn’t realise he was married. And after that, of course, he avoided her at all costs, shunned her and excluded her from all the management training she was supposed to have. She applied for a transfer, which was blocked by head office. And despite it all, despite this man’s appalling behaviour, the trigger that brought Leah to me was that she still loved him, even though it was hopeless.
    There was the word:
hopeless
. The word I need to hear, to start things off.
    ‘It’s easy to make things better,’ I said. ‘The end of the road is easy to find, and it’s a very simple road to take.’
    ‘I’m afraid of pain,’ she replied.
    ‘Could there be any pain worse than this?’
    ‘No. But I might – do it wrong. I might get things wrong, and that would be worse…’
    ‘There are no wrong decisions. You can decide this, and feel better about everything. It’s a decision you can make. The decision is completely in your hands. You have the power to do this, and the strength to do it.’
    ‘I suppose so,’ she said.
    ‘There is always peace,’ I said, softly. ‘Peace, and quiet, and an end to all the pain. You can choose for it to be painless, and quiet, and completely on your terms. It’s for you to choose.’
    From a purely technical aspect, it really is that simple. The techniques I’ve learned – language patterns, inducing a trance state and a heightened relaxation state in people purely through conversation – were the easy part all along. It’s just a case of listening closely to what they are telling you, not just with their words but far more importantly with their bodies, with their eyes, with their movements and shifts and subtle changes in tone. It isn’t rocket science (an inexcusable cliché), but nor is it pseudo-science. It’s reassuringly easy when you know how.
    You want to know how I do it, don’t you? I can imagine it, your fervent interest, your curiosity that others might describe as morbid: I can see it in the sparkle in your eyes. Well, ask me, then. Go on. I know you’re dying to…
    In any case, I can’t and shan’t reveal the details. Do you think I stumbled upon this overnight? Do you think this level of awareness is something everyone can master? It’s a long, slow process, not just the learning of the techniques required but the effort involved in tailoring that same process to the individual concerned. It starts with a simple conversation, but this is just the first of many such meetings, many such conversations. The hard part is knowing if they are ready, and spotting the ones who are close enough to make it work.
    I’m not sure if Leah is quite at that point, and I am thinking about leaving her for a few weeks, maybe trying to reconnect with her after a time. She will go one way, or the other. If she chooses the right path, then I will be ready for her.
    Sometimes I meet people who aren’t ready, and I leave them to continue on their own. If they need me later on, then I shall find them again.
    It’s not as if I don’t have others to look out for, in any case.

Annabel
     
     
    On Monday morning I got to work feeling empty. The sky was dark grey, threatening rain, like the inside of my heart.
    Kate was off today, which meant it was just me and