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My shoulders drop, disappointed. And I wonder, is that why Judy is so accepting of me? Because she sees me as a potential cure for her son? Is that why she’s trying so hard to make me feel welcome? God, does she realize how much pressure she’s putting on me? I don’t know, but I feel compelled to enlighten her in case she doesn’t. She’s so blinded by the promise of her son possibly being fixed, she’s neglecting to consider the strain it might have on me. I’m determined, no doubt, but I’m also not delusional. I’m no professional. Theo needs professional help. ‘That’s a lot of pressure to put on my shoulders, Judy.’ Will she change her opinion of me, be less friendly if I fail to cure her boy?
‘No pressure, my darling. None at all. Because even if he’s never cured, I can still see you bring light into his dark world. His happiness, his peace, is all that matters to me.’
His peace. ‘So he’s not tried therapy?’ I say, trying to get an answer to my original question.
‘Therapy requires talking. You may have noticed my son doesn’t like doing that.’
What she means is, he’ll have to talk to a therapist, tell him his history so a treatment plan can be devised. Theo won’t talk about his history. Therapy is never going to happen. So, what? It’s down to me, then? All the responsibility to keep Theo calm and happy is on my shoulders?
‘Now’ – Judy’s expression alters significantly, from sad to smiley – ‘tell me about your childhood, Izzy. Let’s get to know each other.’
Judy’s choice of topic has the roles reversed. I look away, playing with the stem of my glass. ‘Not much to tell,’ I lie. ‘I grew up in Highbury, went to the King’s College, and have worked at the Royal London since.’ More lies, and I grimace to myself, hearing how mechanical I sound. ‘Well, I did work at the Royal London.’ Until your son went on a rampage through the ward I worked on.
As I expected, Judy ignores my latter statement. ‘Why a nurse?’ she asks, appearing not to pick up on my robotic reply.
‘Because as much as I would’ve liked to be a doctor, I couldn’t afford med school.’
‘Your parents? Couldn’t they help with the financial burden?’
I hold my tongue for a second, but I don’t say what I’m wondering, which is why she’s asking when I’d bet my life on the fact that Theo has already told her that my parents died. ‘My father died when I was very little,’ I explain for the sake of it, deciding it’s easier than questioning why she would ask me when she knows. ‘My mother died ten years ago.’
Her face drops, as does her glass to the table. ‘Oh, Izzy, I’m so very sorry.’
I feel my forehead become heavy with my frown. ‘Theo didn’t tell you?’
‘No.’ She shakes her head, then comes around to my side of the table and takes a seat next to me. I look at her, a little perplexed. ‘I’m sorry for asking. It must be very painful for you. What were you, seventeen when you lost your mother?’ I nod, and she closes her eyes, plainly finding it hard to comprehend. ‘I lost mine when I was thirty. It was so hard, even as an adult, but you were just a girl.’ She opens her arms and offers me her comfort. Naturally, and surprisingly, I go with ease. ‘You’re even stronger than I thought. No father and no mother at seventeen, and you found your way in the world. Became a nurse!’ She pulls back and looks at me, all proud. Thrilled, even.
I won’t tarnish the moment with the nastier pieces of the story, because for the first time ever, I’m being rained with praise – praise that I always knew my mother would have smothered me with if she could see me now. The fact that Theo’s mother is the deliverer, and not my own mum, adds only a hint of sadness to my moment. ‘You’re amazing, Izzy.’ She kisses my cheek and hands me my drink. ‘Like a boss.’ Clinking my glass, she winks, and I laugh, relaxing for the first time since I arrived. ‘Because make no mistake, darling girl. You are the boss where Theo is concerned. Of his heart.’
Her words pierce my own heart and inject the biggest dose of happiness. I’m guessing now wouldn’t be the time to tell her that her darling son once told me that he’ll treat me like a queen and fuck me like a whore. ‘Thanks, Judy. For the chat and the drinks.’ I sound sincere, and really, I am, but there’s that lasting curiosity brought about from an earlier point in our conversation. What happened to Theo? He told me he’s wired to charge when he’s touched. I don’t believe him. I believe something happened that made him that way. And besides, Judy told me he’s not always been this way. But do I really need the details? And would I risk pushing him away to find out?
