‘Well I wish she would at least give them a try. Or go and see a therapist again. She never admitted it, but I’m sure her sessions with Cynthia helped.’
Miriam struggled to understand Helen’s depression. She tried her best not to show it, but Libby could tell she thought depression was a form of self-indulgence. Libby was constantly sticking up for her sister when her mother became exasperated by her lack of motivation, thankful that it never seemed to be directed at her.
‘I’ll talk to her, Mum. Don’t worry. Or at least try not to. This fresh start could be just what she needs, a change of scenery. And at least she’s not going to bump into Alan in Hong Kong.’
‘Yes, well I suppose that has to be a blessing.’
‘Exactly. All right Mum, I’ll give her a call now and I’ll speak to you very soon. Let me know if you hear anything in the meantime?’
‘I will darling, take care now. And have fun!’
As Libby hung up the phone she sighed. She felt terrible for her sister. She had always struggled somewhat with her confidence, as had Libby herself at times. Helen had suffered from depression and anxiety throughout her twenties and early thirties, having better years and worse years, never really committing to a career and moving from one disastrous relationship to another. Though Libby had not fared much better in either of these respects, she wasn’t cursed with a tendency towards depression, for which she was extremely grateful. To make matters worse, Helen was also desperate to have a baby, and at thirty-seven she was only too aware that time was running out. She had thrown her heart and soul into her last relationship with a slightly dweeby-looking musician called Alan, whom Libby had found bemusingly arrogant. Four years later, with no proposal on the horizon, Helen had confronted him with questions about their future. He had dumped her callously on the spot and claimed that he wasn’t interested in settling down, leaving Helen heartbroken and plunging her into her worst depression yet. She had spent months at her mum’s house in Kent before announcing that she was moving to Hong Kong to teach English as a foreign language. She had upped sticks and gone a couple of weeks ago, whilst Libby had been in the north of Italy, and neither her mum nor Libby had heard much from her since. She sincerely hoped this would be the making and not the breaking of her.
She scrolled down to Helen’s name in her phone and pressed call. A foreign dial tone sounded in her ear. After several rings the mechanical voice of her voicemail kicked in. Libby left a message asking her to call her, saying how much she missed her and how she hoped she was settling in OK. She lay back down on her sun lounger, sending up prayers that her sister would be all right. She loved her dearly and knew just how fragile her state of mind was. She hoped her luck would change and that Hong Kong would help her turn over a new leaf and find her feet once again.
