Bear in the Woods by R.A. Spratt

Author:R.A. Spratt
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780143788843
Publisher: Penguin Random House Australia

April did not have a good first impression of her psychiatrist. It was bad enough that Dr Hilary’s consultation room was an ageing caravan that dipped under April’s weight as she stepped into the flimsy dwelling. But as she took in the tiny space, cramped with compact furnishings, she caught her first sight of Dr Hilary and she was disappointed. She realised it was naive to assume all psychiatrists would look like Sigmund Freud – ageing, grey-haired, suit-wearing and smoking a cigar. But she had not expected a frumpy, middle-aged woman shoving a honey cake in her mouth. April clutched Pumpkin to her chest, partly for emotional security and partly for self-defence. If the session got too personal, she could always launch her dog at the psychiatrist then make a run for it.

‘Mmm-mm-mm,’ said Dr Hilary, waving her hand, motioning for April to sit on the other side of the caravan’s dining table. Her mouth was too full to form actual words. April couldn’t sit down normally. The space was so limited she had to pre-fold her body, bend her knees and then slot herself in under the table. Dr Hilary had closed her eyes so she could really enjoy her mouthful of honey cake. She chewed leisurely for a few moments, then swallowed and finally opened her eyes.

‘Hello,’ said Dr Hilary. ‘You must be August.’

‘April,’ said April.

‘I think you’ll find it’s September,’ said Dr Hilary, looking confused.

‘My name is April,’ said April.

‘Really?’ said Dr Hilary, checking the notepad in front of her. She scraped some crumbs off and peered closely. ‘You’d know, I suppose. It’s hard to read my handwriting.’

April glanced about. As well as the kitchenette and dining table, there was a sort of loft space above their heads where she could see the foot of a mattress.

‘I hadn’t expected to meet with a psychiatrist who had a bed in their consulting room,’ said April.

‘It helps keep costs down,’ explained Dr Hilary. ‘Providing mental health services to regional areas doesn’t come cheaply.’ She took another big bite of her honey cake.

April wondered if this was a psychological technique to get her to talk. Eat a huge mouthful of food and make the patient uncomfortable with silence until they crack and tell you why they are crazy. Well, she wasn’t going to crack. She glared at the psychiatrist, determined to wait her out.

‘Mmm,’ said Dr Hilary conclusively, as she finished off the last bite. ‘Yummo. I love coming to Currawong at this time of year. The Chelsea Bakery always does the most scrummy honey cakes during daffodil season. Forget the daffodils, I say. The honey cakes are a tourist attraction on their own.’

April kept silent. She was sure this was a trick now. The psychiatrist was trying to goad her into having a fit of rage with inane small talk.

‘So what can I do for you?’ asked Dr Hilary, eventually turning to the reason that April was there.

April eyed the psychiatrist for a moment.

‘Sorry,’ said Dr Hilary. ‘I’m being rude.

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