AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She nods. ‘It’s called projection. Your feelings are being projected onto others like film onto a cinema screen. Does that make sense?’
‘It does. It does, yes.’
‘It doesn’t mean you were wrong about those people. It’s down to what you notice and how you interpret it. You mentioned a customer who is addicted to gambling and comes to celebrate or drown his sorrows at your pub.’
‘Phil.’
‘Yes. Of all the customers you might have mentioned, you chose to tell me about him. A broken man from a troubled domestic background seeking solace where he shouldn’t, or rather where he won’t, ultimately, find it.’ She pauses. ‘Have you any thoughts on that?’
I nod. I have the same sensation I do sometimes when I put my reading glasses on, except it’s my mind that’s sharpening, coming into focus. ‘That’s what I was doing, wasn’t it? Escaping? Not from trouble exactly, but yes, I suppose you could say my home life was troubled and I suppose you could say that talking to strangers wasn’t ultimately going to help me solve the problems at home. I was putting my… I suppose I was putting my love elsewhere.’
She mirrors my nod, adds the trace of a smile. ‘Good. That’s great. Keeping that in mind, let’s talk, if you think you can, about the evening you met Joanna Weatherall.’
‘OK.’ The Vaseline on my face has calmed the sting but my face feels strange and greasy.
‘There were a couple of things you mentioned in your account that, in the light of knowing about how we project our emotions sometimes, you might now be able to look at a little differently. You expressed a connection with this young girl that was maternal, would you agree with that?’
‘Yes. Definitely. I didn’t mean her any harm. If anything, I felt protective of her.’
‘And despite revisiting that moment in our sessions, you still can’t remember doing her any harm. You’ve left that out of your story. You believe that your mind has blocked out those details because the idea of them is so horrific to you. What you do include is how she, Joanna, made you feel. Can you remember how she made you feel?’
‘Protective,’ I say. ‘I said that.’
‘What else?’
‘Maternal.’
‘Yes…’
I think back, put myself there.
‘Appreciated,’ I say. ‘Seen. Funny. I made her laugh.’
Amanda glances at her notes and back to me. ‘You said she reminded you of how you used to make your daughter laugh. Katie. You said you last laughed together with Katie over a year ago. Do you have any thoughts on that?’
‘It was when me and Katie were close. Now she’s shut herself in her room, started painting her face all day long, living online instead of in the world. She’s always cross with me. Seems to be anyway.’
‘And Joanna?’
‘She was my daughter?’
Amanda raises her eyebrows.
‘Jo was Katie,’ I continue, encouraged. ‘That’s what you mean, isn’t it? She was the relationship I’d lost. With Katie. That’s what you want me to say, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t want you to say anything you don’t feel. We’re working together to try and understand what happened – does that make sense?’
‘No, but it’s obvious, isn’t it? I was desperate for my daughter but I couldn’t reach her. Everything I said was wrong. We just couldn’t get on. She was always so furious with me. And I suppose Katie was doing the same as me and Phil, in a way. I never thought about that. She’s been looking for solace, as you put it, online. Looking for love – likes, followers. And going out too much, getting drunk, well, that’s not unusual at her age, but maybe she was doing it too much, I don’t know. And Mark, I suppose, out with Roy… well, with Lisa. And then, I guess, when I was thinking about pushing Jo under the water, well, that was me wanting to push myself under the water, wasn’t it?’ A sob comes from deep in my chest, an unlocking at the very heart of me, a slow opening. ‘I’ve been suicidal. I have. But I’ve been too ashamed to admit it.’
‘Take your time,’ Amanda says softly, and yet again I’m struck by her compassion, given all that I’ve done. ‘Have some water. We don’t have to talk about Jo anymore if you don’t feel able.’
‘Oh, don’t mind me. I’ve been crying for a year. I don’t mind it if you don’t. I’ll just crack on, I think. There’ve been times this last year when I’ve felt like killing someone but I never thought I had it in me to actually do it. I imagined stabbing her. Afterwards, I mean. How it would feel. But at the same time, the me I know – me, Rachel, the person I think I am, or thought I was, anyway – would never do that to another mother, let alone a kid. Never. I’d never take another woman’s child. But I’ve been so cross. Cross with everyone. With Mark, with Katie.’
‘OK. Tell me about that.’
‘I was cross at Katie for leaving me alone, for us not being close anymore. And I’m cross at myself. I’ve been rubbish. A rubbish mother.’
‘What makes you say that?’
