Chapter 10
A few days later, it’s time for another fun-filled afternoon, i.e.
, another session with Dr Severini. He’s already in place, knives out and smiling.
I don’t know why I have elected to take advantage of this service.
Probably because a stranger may have the best perspective on things.
Dad and Markus are always telling me to get on with my life rather than harbour anger towards my mother.
Simon, on the other hand, says nothing at all because I stopped confiding my deepest feelings to him years ago.
‘I’m ready, Hannibal, bring it on,’ I say before I can stop myself. I realise it’s rude, but I can’t bring myself to apologise. He should be apologising to me after all that prying around the last time I was here.
Instead, he looks up with an amused smile. ‘I enjoyed our last session,’ he says, catching me off guard.
‘Well, no offence, but someone has to.’ Is it me, or are we both enjoying the antagonism?
‘Even if you’ve been holding back,’ he says amiably, ignoring my quip.
I don’t know why I resent him so much. Probably for the same reason I resented my very first shrink. I had been acting up at school and at home under Mitchell’s influence, becoming a proper nightmare, and I resented anyone who tried to help me at that time.
‘You are a lot of work, did you know that?’ he says.
‘Sure, I’m a regular Lorelai Gilmore.’
‘A what?’
‘Lorelai Gilmore. From Gilmore Girls. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen the series?’
‘Can’t say that I have.’
I gasp in exaggerated surprise. ‘So you know about Fantasy Island but not Gilmore Girls? Are you in for a treat!’
‘Do all of your cultural references come from the entertainment industry?’ he asks.
‘Where else? I grew up glued to that thing.’
‘And why is that? Didn’t you have any friends?’
Straight in again.
‘My daughter watches it,’ I lie. She watched it once but as soon as the mother–daughter theme emerged she dropped it like a hot potato. ‘And if you want to see a dysfunctional family par excellence, let me introduce you.’
‘They’re fictional.’
‘Yes. But they are real types.’
‘So you identify with this Laura—?’
‘Lorelai. A lot of women do. Her mother is a real—’
‘What have the two of you got in common?’ he asks.
‘Her mother and me?’
‘No, you and Lorelai.’
‘Huh.’ I pause, thinking. ‘Well, we both have impossible mothers. But at least hers never left her.’
‘Your mother left you?’
‘When I was a kid; didn’t you know?’
He shrugs. ‘How am I supposed to know?’
‘Not that she would ever tell you any of her sins, but isn’t she your patient?’
‘She’s one of the shareholders. And by the way, we don’t refer to our guests as patients. This is a wellness centre, after all.’
‘You could have fooled me,’ I say. ‘I’ve seen more doctors than I have beauticians. What does a girl have to do around here to get a hair appointment?’
He sits back and looks at me coolly. It’s obvious I’m here because I have to do the talking.
‘So let me get this straight,’ I say. ‘You know absolutely nothing about me?’
‘Absolutely nothing.’
‘Oh my days,’ I say almost gaily. This is going to be fun!
‘I know Susan is your mother, but that’s about it,’ he clarifies. ‘So, tell me more about your children. What are they like?’
‘Joe is a dream. Top of his class, very sporty, very affectionate towards everyone.’
He nods. ‘So then it’s Cassie who worries you.’
‘I never said that…’
‘You didn’t have to. I can see it in your face. Besides, teenagers are always problematic.’
‘Even yours?’ I ask.
He takes off his glasses. ‘How did you know?’
‘I can see it in your face. You’re happy to see that yet another parent is struggling. I’m not offended. It’s the way the world turns. It makes us all feel less lonely, less of a failure.’
‘Amen,’ he says.
‘How old is she?’ I ask.
‘My teenager? How did you know it’s a she? Never mind. You’re good at reading people, you know?’
‘Maybe I’ll have a change in careers,’ I joke.
‘Maybe you should,’ he agrees, smiling. ‘So tell me about Cassie. What’s her problem?’
‘Me, if you ask her.’
Dr Severini chuckles. ‘Are you an overbearing mother?’
‘Doctor, I come from an overbearing mother who abandoned me. You do the maths. Of course I’m not overbearing.’
‘But you’re always there for her?’
‘Clearly!’
‘Then maybe that’s the problem. Maybe she needs to figure some things out for herself.’
I shrug. ‘You’re probably right. But, you know, I want to make sure I’m always there for her, even when… she screws up royally.’
‘Like you did?’ he asks.
‘How did you— Never mind.’
‘What was his name?’
I sigh. ‘Mitchell. His name was Mitchell. He was… everything I thought a boy should be. He was strong, he was kind. He didn’t talk too much, but I liked it that way.
’ Especially because it allowed me to fill his silences with my teenage girl fantasies, turning him into an absolutely perfect mix of things a boyfriend should and shouldn’t be.
‘So in other words, he was there for you,’ Doc says.
I nod. ‘Yes, he was. One call and he’d run to me.’ I look up, expecting to see a negative reaction on his face, but he’s as cool as a cucumber.
And as if pushed by some invisible force squeezing all the feelings out of my mouth, I begin to open up despite my fears.
‘We fit perfectly for two main reasons, neither of which were that romantic, but who cared? I had him and he had me. I needed someone to always put me first.’ Apparently my dad wasn’t enough for my bruised ego.
‘And Mitchell always ran to me because he needed to be needed. It truly was a win–win situation for both of us.’
‘That’s very profound,’ he says. ‘Most people don’t realise what their other half needs.’
‘Oh, I realised and more, even at that age. I had to grow up quickly after everything. When I vented to him, he knew he was no longer the only one suffering, or the weaker one. With me, he had someone else who was worse off, in his opinion. Between the two of us, I actually don’t know who was worse off, but we were starting to become more and more similar each day, as if our troubles had rubbed off on one another. ’
In truth, we would often cut school to go and smoke somewhere, discussing our own version of history and politics and world events.
For someone who was hardly ever at his desk, Mitchell was quite versed in these subjects and I soon fell under his spell.
His ideas became mine, albeit in a more watered-down version because I really had no idea about much of any of it, too immersed in my own little world of self-commiseration.
‘I had lost all interest in everything else. After numerous desperate attempts to reel me back, my two best friends – my two only friends – Hannah and Emily, had stopped trying to fix me. Because I couldn’t be fixed. The sadness inside me was constant, and no pyjama party could erase it.’
And for some reason, I continue to talk about my childhood.
‘I used to get invited to parties all the time, but then everyone must have got sick of asking. I couldn’t blame them. Actually, I didn’t care anymore. I could barely get up to go to school on some days. It was just too much of an ask.’
Dr Severini leans forward sympathetically, and I can feel the embarrassment at spilling all my secrets threatening to rise to the surface, but I’m on a roll. I don’t want to stop now, so I ignore him, and just keep talking as if he isn’t even in the room.
‘Sometimes even… washing was too much for me, but Mitchell didn’t mind. He wasn’t all that squeaky clean himself, sometimes sleeping in his clothes and then rolling out of bed and straight to school – on the rare occasions that he did go.’
‘And your father? How did he take it?’
I groan inwardly. Poor Dad. ‘I put him through hell. I had changed so much, become a real rebel, he hardly recognised me, asking me where…’ I swallow. ‘His… good little girl had gone…’
‘Do you still carry the guilt?’ Dr Severini asks softly.
I look up. ‘Guilt? Have we met? I am made of guilt.’
‘I know. It’s the ones who bear the weight of guilt who try to shake it off by being angry at the world.’
‘You know, Doc? I think you’re starting to understand me.’
‘So I’ll see you next week?’ he asks, leaning back in his chair.
‘After my facial, maybe,’ I say, getting up.
He beams up at me, happy that I seem to have melted like the proverbial butter in his hands. ‘Good. Looking forward to it, Olivia.’
I sigh mischievously. ‘Ah, Doc, I wish I could say the same.’
Truth be told, Mitchell and I hadn’t spent all our time evaluating philosophical theories and political views, and after a few months I missed my period.
When I rushed over to his house in a panic to tell him, he’d grinned.
Grinned! ‘Wow, that’s so cool, Liv!’ he’d said. ‘We’ll make great kids, you and me.’
Which was nice to hear on one hand, but where was his practicality in all this? What were we going to do with a child, and not one GCSE between us?
‘But we’re still kids, Mitchell. I’m only fifteen.’
‘Nah. It’ll be all right. If you’re pregnant, you’re pregnant. Besides, my dad’s loaded. He’ll put us up, we’ll have a great life.’
‘But what will we do, besides raise a kid? What jobs will we have?’
‘Jobs?’ he’d said, surprised. ‘Honey, this baby will be our meal ticket. We don’t have to do anything as long as we live, now.’
‘That’s not exactly how I see my life unravelling, Mitchell,’ I said. ‘I want to do stuff. Become someone I can be proud of.’
He shrugged. ‘No one’s stopping you. Once the baby is born and settled, you can do whatever you want.’
All words some people may dream of hearing, but not me. I wanted to start my own company, run operations, make things and sell them. Be my own boss. I was too young to resign myself to motherhood, just like that. I had had a shit life until then. When would I actually start living if I had a baby?