Letting out the Worms: Guilty or not? If not then the alternative is terrifying (Kitty Thomas Book 1

announced that his new client had arrived. Max glanced at the clipboard on his desk to remind himself of the name. Paul Thomas, divorced, angry. He knew little more than this, so he placed the board onto a nearby coffee table, and stood behind an armchair, pulling his face into a reassuring smile.
Max studied Paul as he entered - body language was everything in a first meeting. Although his client’s expression was mild, the muscles in his shoulders were tense, and his fingers were clenched into fists. Light from the window highlighted a sheen of sweat on Paul’s forehead.
Experience had taught Max that his clients required time to express themselves. However, the most immediate requirement for this man was to put him at ease in this unfamiliar situation. With a neutral expression, and making sure he stayed well outside Paul’s personal space, Max said, ‘Mr Thomas, how do you do?’
Paul nodded from just inside the door.
‘Would you take a seat?’ Max signalled a selection of chairs varying in formality from upright dining chair to squashy armchair, and Paul crept in and chose a straight-backed carver with wooden arms,
Max pulled over a similar seat and the coffee table and positioned himself at a slight angle so as not to confront his client. He leaned forward to lift his clipboard and Paul pulled back. Max smiled. ‘My name’s Max,’ he said without reacting. ‘I’ve owned this practice for three years, and for five years before that, I was a social worker.’
Paul nodded. ‘Paul Thomas.’
‘May I call you Paul?’
Paul nodded again and Max went on, ‘I won’t ask too many questions now, but if you feel you can, it would be good to hear why you’ve come to see me.’
A profound silence followed, interrupted only by the crackle of the fire and a muffled cawing of rooks in the trees outside. After a measured three minutes, Max offered a prompt. ‘I understand you need help with your marriage breakup.’
Paul nodded.
‘How long ago was that?’ Max poured them both glasses of water, and Paul took two gulps.
‘Four months.’ His eyes lifted to meet Max’s and the pain and anger in them pulled at Max’s heart.
A colleague at work recommended you,’ Paul dropped his eyes again. ‘I’ve been angry.’
Max gave a reassuring smile, ‘Congratulations on taking this step, Paul. Together, I hope we can work out the root of your anger and make you happier. Everyone wants to be happy, don’t they?’ This was not a question, more an invitation to agree.
‘Yeah.’ Paul relaxed a little and put his elbows onto the arms of his chair.
Encouraged, Max asked, ‘May I take a few basic details first?’ He unclipped the notes and slid them underneath the preliminary meeting form. When Paul had given his contact details, his workplace and age, Max brought the notes back to the top.
‘Tell me about life. How are you getting on now?’
Paul stumbled to express his feelings but gradually his sentences gained momentum and soon phrases were gushing from him. ‘I’m Cross. No. Bloody furious. She took my life and screwed it up; threw it in the bin as if it didn’t matter.  Then she swanned off with my kid. I couldn’t do a thing to change her mind; there wasn’t time. She said they were leaving, then they left. After she told me, I nearly killed myself on the motorbike.’ Paul’s was now shouting.
Max directed a calm face at him. ‘Did you do that on purpose?’
‘No. Poor judgement. I was so angry. I shouldn’t have been driving at all; I’d been drinking; but I needed to get out of there.’
‘Anger would be a natural response to an experience like that.’
Paul’s dropped his voice and thumped the arm of his chair. ‘But I do things that make it worse.’
‘For example?’
‘For example, spoiling my daughter’s birthday party, and stomping around at work. It’s Fee’s fault.’
In Max’s life, most woman had been at fault, but he refrained from expressing this opinion and asked, ‘Any friends you could talk to?’
Paul paused. ‘I did have mates. Pete, Phil and Chris. We lost touch after Fee and I got married.’
‘Any reason for that?’
‘Not sure. Fee didn’t much like them. We saw them at the beginning, but it stopped.’ Paul was surprised. ‘I’ve never thought about that before. We used to meet every Friday night.’ He lapsed into thought then said, ‘Not sure they were the kind of blokes I’d share this with, though.’
Max nodded and waited, but instead of continuing, Paul glared at him.
‘What do you want me to say? All I know is that Fee’s a scheming cow, and I’m the gullible fool who’s been taken for a ride. I’m a complete IDIOT!’
Progress. Max wrote on his pad: Feeling persecuted. Low self-esteem.
‘And I want my kid!’ Paul howled.
Max wrote: Contact with daughter restricted, before saying, ‘It’s OK, Paul. You’re doing fine. I understand that your wife left you suddenly and took your daughter with her. What is your daughter’s name?
‘Kitty - she’s only six.’
Max passed him a box of tissues. The wife sounded calculating, but from experience, he knew he must take nothing at face value, especially at this early stage. He asked, ‘Did she give her reasons for leaving?’
‘Can’t remember.’
Max dipped his head. ‘What do you expect from me, Paul?’
‘I dunno. A woman at work thought you’d be a help. Probably bollocks. She talks a lot of bollocks if I’m honest.’
‘Everything will be up to you. We can talk about your childhood, your marriage and so on, and perhaps you’ll make sense of why this has happened. I can’t promise miracles, but sometimes sharing can help put things into perspective. People discover things about themselves.’
Paul’s body tensed and he shoved his face at Max. ‘You saying I’m to blame?’
‘It’s not for me to