The Best New Horror 2 by Ramsay Campbell Page A

situations.”
    “Do you like your patients?”
    “I don’t call them patients. They are clients.”
    “Do you like them?”
    “Michael asked me something like that when we first met. He wanted to know if I liked him.”
    “Do you?”
    Anne crossed her feet and angled her face away from Stephen. There was a lint ball on the floor by the bed. The nurses and orderlies were obviously quick about their business here.
    “Of course I do,” she answered.
    “That’s good. If you like people you can help them.”
    “That’s not a prerequisite, though. Liking them.”
    Stephen closed his eyes momentarily. Then he looked at Anne again. “You have a husband?”
    “No.”
    “A boyfriend, certainly.”
    “No, not really. I’ve not wanted one.” Anne hesitated. “It’s not what you think.”
    “What do I think?”
    “That I’m a lesbian or something.”
    “I haven’t thought that.”
    “I’m not.”
    “You have family, though.”
    Anne’s crossed arms drew in closer. Family, yes, she did. God knows what wonders she could have accomplished had it not been for her beloved family.
    “A mother,” she said. “An older brother.”
    “What are their names?”
    “My mother is Audrey. My brother . . .” Suddenly Anne was acutely aware of the utility sink behind her. She could see it brimming with water, cold water, stopped up and ready . . . “My brother’s name is Phillip.”
    “Are you close?”
    Anne’s shoulders flinched at the nearness of the sink. Dark water; thick, stinking, and hungry water. Eager. She swallowed, then looked down at her hands. ‘Pathetic things,’ she thought. She flexed them. ‘Goddam it all.’ She looked up at Stephen. His forehead was creased, with a barely discernible shadow over his eyes.
    “Sure,” she said. “We’re close.”
    Then Stephen went to sleep. Anne stared at the dust ball, and at the tubes running from beneath Stephen’s ribs. And her fingers, wanting to move forward, were stopped, and were locked onto her lap like a colony of trapped souls.
    Janet Warren was chuckling as she ushered Anne into the office. “It’s no big deal,” she said, obviously seeing through Anne’s tight smile. “Honestly, I just want to talk with you for a minute.”
    Anne took one of the chairs that sat before the desk; Janet sat on the edge of the desk.
    “It’s Julia,” Janet said.
    Anne recrossed her arms and frowned slightly. “Julia? What’s wrong with her?”
    “Now, don’t get me wrong. Sorry, I don’t need to talk with you like that. You know what you’re doing, you know how people react sometimes. I’m sure you’ve had clients freak out during sessions, things like that.”
    Anne said, “Certainly.”
    “Julia went a little crazy after your last visit. She started throwing things; she even threatened bodily harm to herself if you came back again.”
    “Mrs Warren, certainly you don’t think . . .”
    “I don’t think anything, Anne. We’re in this together, remember? Julia has always been easily set off. It seems you remind her of someone she hated back when she was a child. In school, somewhere back then. You’ve done nothing wrong. As a matter of fact, you seem to be making real progress with Michael.”
    Anne tapped the rug lightly with the ball of her foot. “Michael likes to joke around. I seem to be a good receptacle for that.”
    “So be it,” said Janet. “That could be just what he needs at this point.”
    “Yes, I believe so.”
    “So what I wanted to say was just forget about Julia for the time being. I’ll get another volunteer assigned to her. With your own work at the Association, I’m sure a smaller volunteer load won’t disappoint you.”
    Anne nodded, stood, and started for the door. She turned back. “Mrs Warren, what do you know about Stephen?”
    “Stephen?”
    “Michael’s roommate.”
    “Ah, yes,” Janet said. She slipped from the desk top and went around the desk to the swivel chair. She did not sit. “It may sound