Paradise Child Book 3 (Imprisoned in my Heart trilogy...Larry)

Chapter 7

"Yeah. Of course, that's great! So, uh...you think it'd be okay if I showed up to do an interview in person on...shall we say Friday? I can do Friday. Can you do Friday?" Louis looked down at the notebook he usually wrote psychiatric observations in and scribbled Friday and a phone number down in a messy scrawl, then drew a ring around it and punctuated the whole thing with a smiley face. "Excellent. Well, I'll -"

The door swung open and Louis yelped, all but falling off his chair; he had to grasp his desk for support. In the doorway stood a man called Evan; he was skinny and unpleasant and his whole body was emaciated, like it was slowly wasting away, apart from his gleaming white teeth and unpleasantly active eyes, which glittered knowingly every time they looked at something. Louis had always found him unnerving, but especially as he'd been halfway through trying to get himself another job, he could have done with not having the man burst into his office so unexpectedly. Struggling to get his breath back, Louis said hastily "Um, tell you what, I have to go right now, so I'll - I'll call you back." He hung up, shoved his phone into his pockets and attempted to smile warmly at Evan. The beads of sweat gathering on Evan's receding black hairline made him look so repulsive that even Louis' usually flawless smile faltered, sickened by the sight.

"Slacking off, were we? Making personal calls, were we? Eh? Eh?" His voice was thin, reedy and unpleasant, just like the rest of him. Evan walked over to him simply for the opportunity to nudge Louis conspiritavely in the side with a frighteningly bony elbow. Louis fought a shudder.

"Yep, you got me," he said grimly, and then forced another wobbly smile onto his face.

The man's face cracked, and at first Louis thought he'd split his face open and was about to start bleeding all over the floor - then he spotted the flash of unnaturally clean teeth and realized with horror that Evan was smiling at him. Nauseated, he grabbed the desk with both hands and felt the colour leech from his face, turning him unhealthily white.

"I knew it!" announced Evan gleefully, as he dropped himself down into Harry's chair. Louis felt another shiver trickle down his spine like cold water at the thought that the man's skinny backside was parked in the chair that had always reminded him so strongly of Harry, that he would only ever see as being Harry's. "Don't worry, I won't tell. Your secret's safe with me." Another frightening grin that made Louis feel a little bit faint.

"Okay," Louis almost squeaked, pulling his notebook towards him and flipping over the page to hide the number of the psychiatric clinic he'd been trying to get a job at. He clicked his pen nervously. "So. Any underlying issues that have been bothering you lately?"

Evan then proceeded to give him an in-depth description of his gammy knee, an injury that he'd inflicted years ago by walking into a barbed wire fence whilst drunk, and which had never completely healed, and had a habit of aching every so often. He outlined the many stresses of being in prison, namely the food, which he apparently felt left a lot to be desired. (Personally, Louis thought that the idea of the man eating anything would be a miracle; he looked like he'd never had a forkful of food in his life.) He told Louis a long and boring story about his kids, who'd all grown up years ago, and how he had recently found out he had a grandson and was sure the child would grow up a "bad 'un" due to lack of a grandfather figure. In fact, he had just gotten onto the subject of a rumour he'd heard about increasing petrol prices and how he was certain the economy would be in ruins by the time he was released when Louis felt the last traces of his patience completely ebb away and he saw red - and purple, and green, and blue, and a couple of other sparkly colours, and the fury escaped him because he was honestly sick of listening to boring men whine about boring things.

"Listen, Evan," he said impatiently, "do you actually have any concerns about your own mental wellbeing? Because I am paid to care about that. Your views on the new government regulations on petrol prices, however, I am not. If that is all you have to talk about, then no offence, but do you mind sending someone else in who actually needs my help?"