Love on the NHS Read Online Free Page A

labelled the decision insane, declaring the risk of people with Asperger's syndrome to commit suicide in that environment was severe.
    Another man with Asperger's syndrome, Gary McKinnon, was fortunate in not being deported to America. He battled along with his devoted mother and lawyer for years. It seemed all he ever did was gain entry to American government computers to search for UFO evidence. Luke was really glad Gary's case was dropped in recognition of his condition but he could not understand why Syed Talha Ahsan was treated differently. If Asperger's syndrome was to be recognized as a severe disability, especially in a prison environments far from home, it should be so in every case!
    In any case, many army personnel of the United States and the United Kingdom had killed and tortured civilians in the Middle East - if that wasn't terrorism what was? Even Nelson Mandela, one of the most globally respected figures was once dismissed as a terrorist. Any government's authority on claiming to be against terrorism was weak in Luke's opinion, for no power hungry government of recent times was whiter than white.
    He wanted to get away from all the madness. Ah, the longing for a simple life! In France people could still protest without being criminalized Luke's sympathies laid in agreement with the spirit of the French. They cared more for each other and for building a tolerant and civilized society. It was a mystery how he was would make his way there but he figured something would turn up. He had the habit of all young people of taking reckless risks when he felt strongly about something.
    Upon arrival in Paris he wandered along the tree lined avenues, looking agog at the cosmopolitan restaurants, brasseries, bistros, purveyors of fresh vegetables, bakeries; museums, galleries and theatres. He had always lived in poverty, both financially and culturally. Unfamiliar with so much public art, elegance, statues, boulevards, cyclists and scooter drivers he became dizzy. Removing his passport from his pocket he dropped it down a drain. If I have done that, I can't go back, he told himself. I can not go back to so much misery. I have to start anew. I can't wimp out now.
    All day he wandered and ate nothing but a pack of grapes. When the long, hot day was through the night unexpectedly turned cold. Luke searched for somewhere to sleep. Eventually he found a bus stop and lay down. A few passing people began conversations but as he spoke no French they soon left. He was shivering, scared, bewildered. What could he do? Who could he talk to? Barely anyone understood the few stock phrases he spoke and nobody spoke English well. What have I done? he cried inside. God, I am scared. He took his clothes off and started walking along the road. He had to get somebody's attention. I don't know what to do, he thought. I'm desperate. I need help. This is mad but I can't communicate. What can I do?
    A few cars drove by but they seemed unfazed by his nudity. Half an hour later he found himself on the verge of a highway where a police car spotted him. It pulled over. Two officers stepped out. They paused uncertainly. I must pretend to be insane, thought Luke. He started running away. It's like one of those games of cops and robbers I used to play as a child, he thought. He'd never been chased by police before. It was thrilling.
    It didn't take long for them to catch him and saying a few words in French, they walked him to their car and put him in the back. He was driven to a police station. When questioned there he said nothing except the little French he knew - hello, how are you, where do you live. If they think I'm crazy, I might get help, he thought. He wasn't insane but couldn't cope with life anymore. The anxiety was overwhelming. Pretending everything was fine, tiring. His irrational behaviour felt like a release of his chains.
    Lots of officers in the police station came to talk and look at him. Some female officers grinned, coyly pleased at