Chris.

Chris sat back in the recliner, and let out a sigh. The stifling air was consuming him, but not like his disturbing thoughts already had. He closed his eyes and saw nothing, but saw everything. The woodpecker in his head reminded him of the night before, and as he sat in this room, he contemplated his actions, and he began to wonder if what he had done that cold, snowy night had been right. Right, but then in this day and age who was to say what was right anymore? The line between right and wrong was no longer vivid like it perhaps had been. Now it was blurry. Now it was beginning to disappear.

He opened his eyes, and surveyed his surroundings. He was sat in a comfortable, leather recliner. Opposite him was a vacant, much less comfortable looking chair. The kind that probably left you writhing in disgust as you tried to find a comfortable way to sit. Between himself and the opposite chair was a small, glass coffee table, with a box of tissues and a potplant. The room itself was stark, with a mouldy looking brown carpet, and wood panelling on the walls. There was only two small windows, so light was provided by a luminescent striplight. It flickered, once, then twice. A picture hung on the wall. It was nondescript, a printed image of a watercolour painting. In the painting was a farmhouse, with hay bales, and a ploughed meadow, with the sun slowly setting and casting its rays of hope.

Chris snorted with disgust, and at that time the door swung open and a woman strode in. She looked like she was in her forties, looked after herself. She wore a grey skirt, a white blouse and a grey jacket on top. She wore glasses, and clipped to her blouse was a tiny white flower. For a moment she stood near Chris and looked at him.

“So you would be Mr Haynes?” She said, extending her hand. “I’m Miss Kyle.” She beamed at him. He took her hand and they shook firmly, and then she was seated.

“Don’t you, er, find that seat a little uncomfortable?” Chris smiled wryly, lifting one of his feet up and placing it on his knee.

“It just so happens Mr Haynes, you are sitting in my seat, and I am in yours.”

“I beg your pardon, “ he replied, and started to get up.

“You stay right where you are, I’m not one to disturb a man from a comfort,” she chuckled softly. Chris halted, and slowly sat back down.

“Er by the way, I’d prefer it if you called me Chris”

“Then you had best know me as Jenna. So Chris, you were referred to me by your pediatrician because you’ve been suffering panic attacks lately, would you like to tell me what’s been happening?”

She lifted a leg up, and hung onto her knee with both her hands, and again she smiled. She had a soft voice like honey, and the eyes of an Eagle. Despite the tough, businesswoman nature of her dress, her demeanour was clearly that which matched her profession. She was soft, sympathetic, understanding and an excellent listener. Or so Chris hoped. Chris suddenly began to think of when he had first set eyes on his wife Jolene. Chris was a fresher at his University and had been working in a Campus bar. During one shift late on a Thursday night, a young brunette had approached the bar and asked for a Vodka Martini. Chris was not afraid of beautiful women, but there was something about this young woman that upset his balance. Isn’t Vodka Martini the kind of drink James Bond would drink? He had jokingly queried.

Yes, but this drink isn’t for me, it’s for you, she had replied, and as she finished she looked him in the eye and bit her bottom lip.

Why would you buy me a drink like this? His charm had vapourised, and he was genuinely intrigued as the where this young woman was taking this.

Because you’re everything a man should be, you are a James Bond.

She then slid a small piece of paper across the bar, smiled broadly and walked out, without looking back. On the paper it said, Jolene, 12a Honduras Halls, Honduras Halls being one of the campus residences.

It took two weeks for Chris to bolster up the confidence to take a visit, but he knew he had to. When he finally knocked on her door, he knew he was entering into something that would change his life. Their love quickly blossomed from lust, and from this love there came a child and marriage. Chris smiled to himself, and turned his attention back to the current situation.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Well if your paediatrician believes it to be,” Miss Jenna Kyle replied. She tilted her head, and looked at him sharply.

“What is it with all this bullshit?” Chris flung his hands in the air and landed them on the arms of the recliner in exasperation, he could feel a buzz through his body as his frustration grew.

“It's crap! This modern world we live in, every fucking body is going to see their shrink every five fucking minutes. It's all Prozac this, Paxil that, everybody's on fucking drugs. I don't believe in it, what's wrong with you people!”

He was almost out of breath and spoke to quickly that on a couple of occasions spit flew from the corner of his mouth. Jenna remained completely calm and unfazed, and sat back in her chair.

“How long have you been feeling angry?”

“How long? How long!? Everybody gets angry sometimes. So what, I got dizzy and passed out, so now I have to come to you and talk to you about my problems every week?”

He paused, but she said nothing.

“You know what, I'm right, I know I am. It's all bullshit, men used to cover up their feelings and get on with life. You got on with life because it's what a man had to do. You did it to protect your family. My Father always used to say to me, Son, don't ever show your emotions, because it makes you look weak. But nowadays, every two seconds some guy is crying about some trivial bullshit. Men are weak now, they let their wives leave them and their children disrespect them.

Well let me tell you now, Miss Kyle, whatever I'm about to do you can be certain I don't fall into the category of men in touch with their emotions!”

“Mr Haynes-”

“Chris, god damnit,”

“Yes, Chris. Let me just make it clear to you Chris how this works. Nothing you say in here goes out, everything stays in the room and I don't talk about it to any body, not even Dr Petoriak. All I'm here for is to listen to you, and to maybe try and help you find a little guidance in life. So tell me, when did you first start feeling like this?”

Throughout the whole time, Jenna remained calm and collected. Chris could see his outburst had not affected her in the slightest, this was a tough old bird and she had probably seen it all before, every month, every week, every day.

“Well, er, I dunno, about two weeks ago.” He shrugged.