Page 34 of The Last Love Song
‘Yes.’ It all amounted to the same thing, whichever way he chose to cloak it. He was about to tell her that her work was terrible.
‘Helen, some of your written work is abysmal,’ he chuckled. Helen could not help visibly shrinking away from him. ‘Butyour work with numbers is, frankly, absolutely superb. You are by far and away the brightest in the class.’
She looked up at him, puzzled.
‘Helen, do you ever read books?’
‘Sometimes. I...’ Then she shook her head. ‘No, I don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because...’ Her hands twisted round on each other.
‘Because you find it almost impossible to make out the words on the page?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and burst into tears.
‘Okay, okay. Here, take this.’ Tony Bryant offered her a hanky.
‘Thank you.’ Helen blew her nose hard. ‘I do try, Mr Bryant, really I do. I’m just stupid and that’s all there is to it.’
Tony Bryant shook his head. ‘Is that what the teachers at your school led you to believe?’
‘It’s what you believe, isn’t it?’ she snuffled.
‘God, no. I’ve been marking your homework for almost two months now. Your written work is virtually unintelligible...and yet I’ve never corrected a single sum. Therefore, you clearly have a very mathematical brain. This leads me to deduce that you are not in the least bit stupid. Far from it, in fact.’ Helen was hanging on his every word. ‘However, all this does make me think you might have an issue that requires attention.’
‘What kind of issue?’
‘Helen, have you ever heard of something called dyslexia?’ Helen shook her head. ‘It’s a learning difficulty which means that one finds it very tricky to make out words on a page.’
‘Oh. Well, that does sound a bit like me.’
Tony held his hands up. ‘Now, I’m no expert, but I have had a couple of students with similar struggles. Both were diagnosed with dyslexia.’
A small ray of hope was beginning to illuminate Helen’s world. ‘You...you really think this may be my problem?’
‘I do. I’d like you to go and see an acquaintance of mine. He’ll be able to tell you if my theory is right. The only thing is...he doesn’t come cheap.’
‘Money’s no problem,’ Helen replied quickly.
‘Fine.’ He wrote a name and address on a pad. ‘Dr Allen’s based in Harley Street. I don’t know his telephone number offhand, but why don’t you drop by on your way home tonight? It’s only a ten-minute walk from here. His receptionist can book you in for an appointment.’
Tony Bryant smiled at her. Helen began to understand why the other girls in her class found him so attractive.
‘Thank you.’ She took the piece of paper and stuffed it into her coat pocket.
‘Don’t thank me, Helen. I hope I’m right. I just wish someone had picked up on this before now.’ He gave her a warm smile. ‘It must have made things very difficult for you.’
Helen swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘It has.’
‘Right then.’ He stood up. ‘Time to go. Doing anything nice over the weekend?’
‘No, I—’
‘Good, good. Do let me know the upshot of your meeting with Dr Allen.’
‘I will.’
