XIII. Ability

13.9K 1K 113
                                    

"Autists are the ultimate square pegs, and the problem with pounding a square peg into a round hole is not that the hammering is hard work. It's that you're destroying the peg." Paul Collins

----

XIII. Ability

Maddie had made it to school without a tantrum on Tuesday and Wednesday and was now only out of school because Sophie needed to take her to the paediatrician.

No matter how hopeful Sophie had felt this week, she was absolutely shitting herself with anxiety about what the doctor and the psychologist would have to say once they assessed Maddie.

Maddie hadn't seen her paediatrician since she was five, when she had her injections before starting school. Perhaps they wouldn't have tested for autism then when she wasn't throwing tanties left, right, and centre. If ever Maddie was ill, Sophie took her to the GP.

The paediatrician's office hadn't changed. It was still decorated in offensively bright yellow and orange and littered with toys that looked about three generations old.

Sophie, holding Maddie's hand, walked up to the receptionist's desk.

The receptionist was still the same, too. Sophie remembered her bringing in Maddie's a lollipop when she'd been grizzling about getting her needles.

"Good morning," she welcomed.

"Hi, good morning," replied Sophie. "I've got an appointment at nine for Madeleine Cartwright."

The receptionist clicked her acrylic nails on the keyboard and smiled when she found the booking. "Yes, you're right here. Have a seat, why don't you? The doctor will be with you in a moment."

Sophie sat down on one of the tired, fraying armchairs, and pulled Maddie onto her lap. Maddie could have sat in one of the other chairs, but Sophie didn't want her to. She wanted to hold her. Sophie smoothed Maddie's ponytail, and retied her maroon scrunchie. She was wearing her winter school uniform for the first time since March. She looked ever so smart in her shirt, tie, and tartan skirt, finished off with a pair of white tights. She looked like a normal little girl, and it was going to break Sophie's heart if a doctor told Sophie that Maddie was going to have something to make her life harder.

"Mummy, can I have another piano lesson after school today, please?" Maddie asked politely as she leaned back into Sophie's chest.

Maddie had already had two lessons this week. Her arranged lesson on Monday, as well as one that Maddie managed to sweet talk Noah into yesterday afternoon.

"Noah's got to work, sweetheart. He can't be giving you lessons every night," Sophie replied softly.

"Please?"Maddie whined, wriggling in Sophie's lap. "Please, I really want to. It's my favourite!"

Sophie sighed, and pulled out her phone from her back pocket, adjusting Maddie as she did. She then saw that she had missed two text messages while they were on the train.

Holly had sent through, "Mads has got this!" alongside a thumbs up emoji.

Noah had sent her a message, too. "Maddie is amazing. Nothing anyone can say is going to change that."

As she was about to reply to them both, the door to the office opened, and Maddie's paediatrician, Dr Lisa Edgeley, stepped out into the waiting room. Dr Edgeley was dressed casually in a floral blouse and a pair of black trousers. Sophie was quietly glad that she wasn't wearing a doctor's coat or anything intimidating.

"If she gives me a needle, I will scream," Maddie whispered in Sophie's ear.

"You're not getting a needle," Sophie hushed, gently pushing her off of Sophie's lap.

The Piano ManWhere stories live. Discover now