Page 16 of Mending Hearts at the Cornish Country Hospital (The Cornish Country Hospital #6)

‘All four-year-olds get frustrated. It’s just that most of them can scream and shout about whatever is causing their meltdown.

Teddie can’t do that so he turns his frustration in on himself.

I doubt it’s because you’re a bad mother, from what I’ve seen I suspect the opposite is true.

’ The matter-of-fact tone of Drew’s voice made his words sound more believable than they might have done otherwise, and less like he was just saying what she wanted to hear.

He’d already helped Eden more than she would have thought possible as a result.

Sometimes she just needed to be able to voice her worst fears.

She couldn’t do that with her parents, not without her mother somehow making it all about her, even if she didn’t mean to.

She could probably have been more open with Felix than she was, but he’d only just come home and he had a lot on his plate trying to organise a permanent move back to Cornwall.

‘Shall we take the woodland path down towards the beach? There’s a café there and Teddie loves the pirate ship. Although he won’t go near the sand pit, he hates the feel of it.’

‘Me too. It’s a sensory thing. When you think about it, sand and broken glass are different versions of the same thing.

’ Drew smiled again; it really did transform his whole face and she couldn’t stop herself from thinking how nice it would be to make him smile like that more often.

Bloody Gwen, she really had done a number on her.

It wasn’t just that, though, there was something about Drew that instantly made it feel like he understood her situation and, even more than that, a sense that he understood Teddie in a way almost no one else seemed to.

He didn’t see Teddie’s stimming or his sensory issues as ‘odd’ the way many people did, he understood the reasons and that they were part of who Teddie was.

Acceptance like that was far rarer than it should have been, and she already knew that arranging to meet Drew had been the right decision.

Eden could almost feel her guard lowering, but her newfound openness still took her by surprise when her response came tumbling out.

‘To be honest I’m not the biggest fan of sand either.

Mum was always making us go to the beach for picnics when my brother Felix and I were kids.

I think it’s because she liked to be able to have the excuse to start on the wine early in the day and sit in the sunshine drinking it.

All the while trying to convince herself that it was a lovely day out for our benefit.

I never liked it, and not just because there always seemed to be more sand than filling in the sandwiches by the time we got to eat them.

If we complained she always made the same joke about there being a reason why they’re called SANDwiches. ’

‘Oh God, just thinking about the feel and sound of the grains between your teeth.’ Drew shuddered. ‘Tell me to mind my own business, if I shouldn’t be asking, I’m not always great at judging these things… But I’m guessing from what you said that your mum had a problem with drinking?’

She hadn’t meant to tell him that. It wasn’t something she talked about with anyone except Felix, and yet with Drew she’d revealed a part of her past she usually kept hidden within minutes.

Maybe it was because he didn’t dive straight in with probing questions; even now he was giving her the option to shut down the conversation if she wanted to, but she didn’t.

For some reason she wanted to share this with Drew because she somehow knew he wouldn’t sensationalise it, or revel in the drama of what had gone on.

He must have seen everything in his job and nothing she said was likely to shock him; she’d have bet a month’s salary that Drew wasn’t the type to gossip either.

She couldn’t really explain it, but talking to him felt like a safe space and, after closing herself off to other people for so long, the flood gates seemed to be opening.

‘She was an alcoholic for the first twenty-four years of my life. It’s only in the last seven that she’s been sober.’

‘That must have been tough. Addiction can change a person into someone else entirely.’

‘You sound like you’re speaking from experience too?’ Eden stopped walking, suddenly wondering if she was the one who’d overstepped the mark, as Drew came to a halt beside her. ‘Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.’

‘It’s okay. You mentioned wanting to talk to me about how my parents supported me with my ASD diagnosis and the answer is not well.

I wasn’t diagnosed until I left home and went to university.

At the time I was told it was Asperger’s, but it was recategorised to ASD when they scrapped that.

It was actually a relief to have a reason for why I felt the way I did.

’ Drew shrugged. ‘My parents had their own issues, and the problems I was having because of undiagnosed ASD went under their radar. My mother’s addiction wasn’t to alcohol, it was prescription painkillers.

And as for my father… he was just never around. ’

Drew sounded matter of fact and the expression on his face didn’t give anything away either, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that revealed how much this situation had hurt him, and she had to suppress the urge to reach out and comfort him because she had a feeling that was the last thing he’d want.

Instead, revealing more of her own past felt like the best way of showing that she understood.

‘I’m sorry, that sounds really difficult.

My dad was always around, but he wouldn’t accept that Mum had a problem, and I’m not sure what I’d have done if I hadn’t had my brother to talk to.

Have you got any siblings?’ When Drew shook his head, Eden couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and touching his arm, finding herself weirdly reluctant to remove her hand afterwards.

‘You probably had it a lot tougher than me in that case.’

‘I think…’ Drew hesitated, almost as if his mind was somewhere else for a moment or two, before he continued.

‘I think if I hadn’t ended up as an only child things might have been different, but I was never the son my father wanted.

The best thing about my diagnosis was understanding myself better, but I still don’t think he gets it or wants to for that matter. ’

‘I can’t believe they could be anything but proud of you.

’ Eden’s chest ached at how misunderstood Drew clearly felt, even by his own parents, and it scared her too.

His autism was high functioning, that was evident from how articulately he was discussing his own experiences, but the signs were that Teddie’s ASD might be towards the opposite end of the spectrum.

How would her beautiful boy ever make himself understood, if someone like Drew had struggled to do it?

‘My father isn’t proud of me.’ Drew’s honesty was breathtaking, and despite the fact his tone hadn’t altered, Eden had seen the look in his eyes again that betrayed how he really felt.

One of the stereotypes of autistic people was that they were emotionless, and it was yet another misguided notion Teddie would have to contend with.

Eden already knew it wasn’t true and she’d seen the pain in Drew’s eyes, even if he didn’t allow his voice to betray him.

There were layers to him that she would guarantee most people missed, but Eden could see them.

He was such a kind and understanding person, but he’d clearly been through a really tough time and she hated the thought that a lot of people wouldn’t give him the chance to show the other side of himself, because he was different to them.

She already felt a connection to Drew she couldn’t explain, given the amount of time they’d spent together, but it was there all the same and she couldn’t help smiling at what he said next.

The whole world would benefit from being a bit more like Drew.

‘It doesn’t matter what my father thinks.

I like what I do and I know I’m good at it. ’

‘I can well believe it.’ She loved how refreshingly straightforward he was.

After years with someone like Jesse, who’d spun so many stories that even he didn’t know the truth from the lies, it was amazing to be with someone who told it like it was.

Some of Drew’s answers were succinct, but he was far from the monosyllabic, awkward person she’d feared he might be.

It was clear that when he felt he had something worth saying, he was willing to open up and say far more than she’d expected him to.

Although his responses were more honest and upfront than most people’s might be, he wasn’t as literal as she’d expected him to be either.

The realisation hit her again that even with a child like Teddie, she was still carrying her own prejudices and assumptions of what ASD meant.

But spending time with Drew was making her realise how ridiculous that was.

Having autism didn’t put someone into a neat little box.

In a way that scared her, and yet it was reassuring too.

Teddie and the abilities he was going to have couldn’t be defined simply by his diagnosis, but that meant they couldn’t be reliably predicted by it either.

Things could get better than they were right now, whatever that might look like for Teddie.

Even if she didn’t get anything else from meeting up with Drew, she was determined never to forget that.

* * *