All in the Mind Read Online Free Page B

psychiatrist – would not figure. ‘Sex addict’ would be even less likely. Yet here he was, about to visit the Prince Regent Hospital for a session with one of the country’s top shrinks.
    As Celia had wittered on at him over the last few days, he had developed his own picture of a sex addict. A man who woke up to a giant erection every morning, which he would immediately masturbate into submission before being able to face the day. Someone who lived in a hovel surrounded by old porn magazines and crumpled tissues. Who viewed every even vaguely attractive woman as quarry to be leered at, followed and hunted down. Who, when free sex could not be found, would purchase it without regard to the sordidness of the venue or the disgustingness of the body his penis would enter. Who would spend hours on the Internet flicking from one porn image to another before finding a video clip that could hold his attention and interest long enough to inspire and then exhaust the next erection. The sex addict was a sad, lonely, depraved individual of low income and low social standing, with bad teeth and greasy hair that left an oily residue on the collar of his anorak. So how on earth had he, a highly educated, married father of two, a respected barrister, a long -time top-rate taxpayer, likely one day to be treasurer or even captain of the South Herts golf club, been engineered by his wife into accepting that he had joined the ranks of the waxy anoraks? He who had lost his virginity later than all his close friends; who could count on one hand the sexual partners he’d had before he married Celia; who had only ever watched porn in hotels if they allowed a few minutes of free viewing and wasn’t overly bothered if they didn’t; and who had never once felt tempted to pay for sex or trawl the Internet for sexual contact or pleasure? He just could not imagine what sort of person would buy sex.
    He had often wondered, as he stood in the newsagent’s deciding which golf magazine to buy, who were the millions who sustained such a massive market in top-shelf literature? But although he had occasionally taken a glimpse at the covers, and even more occasionally looked inside, he had never felt tempted to buy one. Yet there they were, in shops up and down the land, presumably being purchased regularly or else the shops wouldn’t bother stocking them. And, as Celia had been discovering, the Internet had seen the market expand beyond the wildest pornographer’s wildest dreams; in cyberspace, a vast army of men and women indulged in any and every sexual practice for the titillation of a vast global army of consumers. Just not Matthew.
    His problem was that he was currently powerless within the relationship. He was the one who had strayed. He was the one begging for forgiveness, desperate to stay in the marital home, and so avoid the anger of his children and the laughter of his colleagues. Celia would never be in a stronger position and he felt his weakness every time she came out with yet another Web-based assertion to back her basic case that he had a problem which ‘together’ they could solve. This was why he had no way of wriggling out when, to his considerable but unspoken annoyance, Celia said she was worried he would not tell Professor Sturrock the full story if he saw him on his own, so she was coming too.

4
    It was 9.20 before Sturrock before Sturrock was ready to see Emily Parks. He hated running late so early in the day. He viewed his meticulous punctuality as one of the few positive qualities he had inherited from his father. But this morning, events were against him. He had been held up by a call on his mobile from Ralph Hall, the government’s Health Secretary and the only senior politician he had ever treated. Hall had sounded hung-over, and panicky. He asked if Sturrock might be able to come and see him that afternoon, even though their next appointment wasn’t until Tuesday. For obvious reasons, Hall didn’t like to visit