by Lacey London
Chewing the end of my pen, I close the computer and scour the television cabinet for the Yellow Pages. Finally locating it beneath a stash of Christmas cards, I flip through the pages and stop when I hear Mateo meowing loudly from the garden. Abandoning the directory, I quickly find him sprawled out in the same strip of sunshine on the grass. Taking a seat next to him, I lie back and bask in the vitamin D.
Glancing over at the seeds Aldo and I planted a few days ago, I’m reminded of his offer to set me up with one of his clients. It’s been so long since I enjoyed the company of another man. Well, one who doesn’t have a boyfriend of his own, anyway. A part of me is petrified of opening my heart to another person, but deep down, I would give anything to share my life with someone. Someone who will laugh with me in the good times and help me through the bad is what has been missing from my life. I’m just terrified of allowing it to happen.
I look down at my finger tattoo and try to convince myself that not every relationship ends in disaster. Am I afraid of falling in love again, or am I afraid of the heartache that could cause me to tumble back into the grips of anxiety? There are people out there who fall in love with one another day after day, year after year. Real love does exist. The question is, am I willing to lower my guard enough to let it happen for me?
Rolling onto my stomach, I pluck a blade of glass and twirl it around my fingers. Maybe I should listen to my own advice and face my fears. What’s the worst that could happen if I take Aldo up on his offer and meet his mystery man for a drink? One of the things I learned in training, is to take each daunting experience and use it as an opportunity to test your power over anxiety. Despite saying this on a daily basis, I still find it difficult to put into practice. Regardless of what you’re afraid of, facing your fears is always easier said than done.
Before I can stop it, my mind drifts to Aidan and I wonder if he will be strong enough to face his own fears. Acknowledging that you aren’t coping can seem such a monumental thing to admit. Telling another person your mind is effectively broken is a terrifying thing to do, but it’s essential if you want to recover. I just hope that Aidan gets the courage to save himself, before he falls any deeper…
* * *
Brushing my fingers across the red cushion, I clear my throat and run my eyes around the room. The meeting started ten minutes ago and I’ve spent at least eight of those staring at Aidan. Unlike the last meeting, he seems on high alert. Perched on the edge of his seat, he is soaking up my every word like a sponge.
‘As I explained earlier, we’re going to do things a little differently today.’ Holding up the tiny pillow, I smile at the confused faces staring back at me. ‘This is our release cushion, which we are going to pass around the room. Once you are in possession of the cushion, you can choose to speak or you can simply pass it to the next person.’ I pause and turn over the cushion in my hands. ‘There are no rules regarding what you speak about. If you’re having a terrible day, feel free to express your emotion. Alternatively, if you have discovered a new way to control your anxiety, please share this, so others can have the same success as you. Anything goes. Whether it be good, bad, happy or sad.’
A few people nod along as I wait for any questions before handing the cushion to the man at the far right of the circle. The biggest obstacle I face when counselling these support groups is getting people to talk. After various techniques and failed methods at coaxing them to speak, I am hoping my release cushion will have better results.
The first man holds the cushion sceptically for a moment, before swiftly handing it to the next person. My heart drops as the pillow is quickly passed around the circle like a hot potato. I watch in dismay as the cushion makes it halfway around the group, before coming to a stop in the lap of a young man I don’t recognise. Exhaling loudly, he leans back in his seat and taps his foot anxiously.
‘I’m struggling…’ He starts, refusing to make eye contact with anything other than the pillow. ‘We recently moved into the area and I’m finding it really difficult to adjust.’
I smile at him and nod, waiting for him to elaborate. ‘I never used to be like this. I had a huge group of friends back in Newcastle, but since the move, I’ve just wanted to stay at home. My dad tells me I will make new friends, but I’m not interested in meeting new people. I just want my old life back.’
His floppy hair falls into his face as his cheeks flush pink.
‘I lie awake all night, praying to be in my old house when I open my eyes, but of course, I never am. My parents don’t realise how much I’m struggling. The first and last time I told them how I felt, they smothered me for a week. Their constant questions and sympathetic looks made me feel even worse. Every day seems to get tougher, I just don’t want to be here. It’s affecting my grades and it’s making me more miserable than I ever knew possible.’
Finally looking up, he peeks around the room and immediately sits up straight. ‘Sorry, did I share too much?’
‘You can never share too much.’ I say softly, offering him a reassuring smile.
‘I just feel so stupid.’ He continues, running his fingers over the cushion. ‘All we did was move. I mean, it’s not the end of the world. People move all the time, don’t they? Why can’t I just deal with it?’
‘You don’t need to justify why you are having a hard time. We’re all different, we all react to things in different ways. Just because other people adjust faster than you, doesn’t mean that they’re right and you’re wrong.’
He nods in agreement and chews at his thumbnail nervously.
‘It’s perfectly okay to admit that you’re finding it difficult to adjust to your new surroundings. Try not to be so hard on yourself. As time passes, you will settle in your new home.’
The young boy manages a small smile and breathes a sigh of relief, clearly comforted by sharing his problem with someone who understands.
‘Don’t be afraid to confide in your parents, friends and other family members. You might feel as though allowing them in will make your situation worse, but those who care about you will want to do everything they can to help you.’
Smiling back at me, he hands the release cushion to Aidan and looks at him expectantly.
Go on, I beg silently. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Mentally willing him to let go of his reservations, I bite my lip as Aidan opens and closes his mouth repeatedly. Scratching his beard, he shakes his head in annoyance and finally passes the pillow to the person on his right. My heart sinks in my chest as disappointment fills his eyes. I’ve seen that look so many times before. The look that says, I hate myself for not speaking, but I’m afraid of what might happen if I let the words slip out.
Fixing my face into a smile, I try to focus as a familiar lady shares her success story with calming apps. Aidan’s refusal to let people in is frustrating, but you can’t push someone up a ladder, unless they are ready to climb…
Chapter 11
Saying goodbye to Alec, I intentionally take longer than necessary to button up my cardigan. Just like the last time, Aidan is deliberately hanging back, clearly waiting for the rest of the group to leave. Taking the hint that he’s waiting to talk to me, I hover by the information stand until the room empties. Hearing the final footsteps fade into silence, I step towards him and tug my handbag onto my shoulder.
‘How did you find the meeting?’ I ask, leaning against the stand of pamphlets.
‘Great.’ He replies awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. ‘Really great.’
I smile back at him, sensing that he’s gearing up to say something. The words are on the tip of his tongue, itching to make a bid for freedom.
‘I couldn’t do it…’ He whispers in frustration, cracking his knuckles angrily. ‘I wanted to. I really did. I just couldn’t bring myself to say it.’
‘To say what?’ I press gently, realising I’m holding my breath.
‘All of it.’ Throwing his arms in the air, he paces back and forth. ‘I don’t even know wh
ere to start. How do I know if I am sharing too much or not enough? I don’t know what parts I should say and what parts I should keep to myself...’
‘There’s no pressure.’ I interrupt, holding up a hand to stop him. ‘You don’t have to say anything at all. Not now, not ever, if you don’t want to.’
My heart pangs with sadness as his eyes glass over.
‘There’s no rule book when it comes to matters of the mind. There’s no right or wrong way to deal with it. Some people come here and get everything off their chest in one session, others don’t breathe a word for months on end. Just trust your instinct. When you’re ready to talk, we will be here. Like I said, our door is always open.’
Aidan turns to look out of the window and nods half-heartedly. ‘The sun is shining.’ He observes, leaning over and twisting the blinds open.
‘It is.’ Slightly bemused by his sudden change of subject, I decide to drop the counselling and go with it. ‘It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.’
‘Make the most of it.’ Leaning against the wall, Aidan watches the world rush past the window. ‘Storms are forecast for tomorrow.’
I let out a little groan and rub my temples. ‘Well, that’s my plans ruined.’
Aidan shoots me a questioning look and I clear my throat.
‘I have a whole bunch of building work that needs carrying out.’ I explain, straightening a wonky leaflet on the information stand. ‘I intended to call a builder and have them take a look around, but I should probably leave it until Wednesday.’
‘Have you already hired someone?’ Aidan asks, sounded genuinely intrigued.
‘Not yet. To be honest, I don’t even know where to start. I recently bought a house and it needs so much more work doing than I originally anticipated.’
‘I could take a look for you.’ Aidan’s cheeks flush violently the second the words escape his lips.
‘Really?’ I reply, touched by his kind offer. ‘Are you a builder?’
‘I am. Or rather, I was…’ Suddenly looking rather uncomfortable, he starts to backtrack. ‘Actually, forget I said anything. It was inappropriate of me to offer.’
‘No!’ I exclaim, shaking my head. ‘You would be doing me a huge favour.’
Aidan hesitates, before mumbling something that resembles okay. Taking a pamphlet, I quickly scribble down my address and hand it to him. Gently accepting the leaflet, Aidan folds it carefully and places it in his top pocket.
‘Thank you so much for this. I really appreciate it.’ Motioning to the clock on the wall, I start walking towards the door. ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat. I’m meeting a friend for dinner.’
Giving me a swift nod, Aidan falls into step next to me as we make our way outside and across the car park.
‘I’m this way.’ Pointing towards Grove Street, I smile at Aidan as he tilts his head in the opposite direction.
‘I guess I shall see you tomorrow then.’ Already knowing that he’s probably heading straight back to the bed and breakfast, I give him a final wave and watch him walk away.
As I head towards the restaurant, where I have arranged to meet Ruby, a familiar voice catches my attention. Looking up, my lips stretch into a smile as I see her walking towards me. Wearing her favourite biker boots and a cute tea dress, she waves manically as she comes to a stop in front of me.
‘Hey!’ Ruby grins widely and gestures behind me. ‘Who’s the guy?’
Not wanting to look back, I shrug my shoulders and link my arm through hers. ‘Just someone from the support group.’
Before she can quiz me further, I lead her into the restaurant and drop my bag onto our favourite table.
‘Thanks again for inviting us to the party.’ I gush, sliding into my seat. ‘Aldo and I had so much fun.’
‘My family didn’t scare you off?’ Pulling a funny face, Ruby positions a cushion behind her back and makes a grab for the menu.
‘Not at all!’ I retort, quickly ordering a couple of drinks with the waitress. ‘Your mum is so cool.’
‘Cool being the operative word.’ Ruby laughs and checks her hair for split ends. ‘She can come across a little frosty sometimes, but she’s not all that bad.’
‘Frosty?’ I repeat, pretending I didn’t notice Yvette’s reserved manner at the party. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s just the way that she is.’ Ruby explains, studying the menu closely. ‘I’ve grown used to it, but her detached personality doesn’t help when my anxiety strikes. I don’t think she realises how lonely her lack of emotion makes me feel. We can be in the same room as one another, yet I will feel more alone than ever.’
A lump forms in my throat and I try to disguise it behind a forced smile. Completely oblivious to the fact she’s just told me one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard, Ruby taps her fingers on the table as she reels off the menu choices. My relationship with my own mother is far from perfect, but the idea of Ruby feeling like her mum has no compassion for her is heart-breaking. No wonder she’s suffered with her mental health for so long.
‘Is your dad as cool as your mum?’ I ask, realising I didn’t say more than two words to him at the party.
‘My dad just does whatever my mum tells him to.’ She giggles and tosses her hair over her shoulder. ‘It’s my mum who wears the trousers.’
I join in with her laughter as two steaming mugs are placed on the table. I often wonder about my own dad. I’ve never known my father. Apart from a fleeting conversation, where he had absolutely no idea who I was, we’ve never been introduced. My biological makeup has played on my mind a lot this past year, but I’ve finally convinced myself that you can’t miss something you never had.
‘So, did you get a quote for the work on Blossom View?’ Ruby asks, tapping out a message on her phone.
Sipping my drink slowly, I consider telling her about Aidan, but something inside me decides against it. ‘Someone’s coming tomorrow to have a look around. I’ll have a better idea after that.’
Twirling a ring around her finger, Ruby rests her chin in her palm. ‘How are you finding the cottage?’
‘It’s great. It feels as though I’ve always been there.’ I look down into my coffee and watch steam rise from the hot mug. ‘It’s like my old life doesn’t exist anymore. Life really started for me when I got the keys to Blossom View.’
Sighing happily, my smile falters when I realise Ruby is frowning back at me.
‘You haven’t had a visit from Ann since you moved, have you?’ She lowers her voice to a whisper, obviously wanting to keep our conversation hushed from the rest of the restaurant.
Naming my anxiety was the best tip I was ever given, even if it does make it look as though I’m talking to myself sometimes.
‘No.’ I reply confidently. ‘And if she does, you shall be the first to know.’
Ruby and Aldo can’t seem to accept that since my brief spell with anxiety I haven’t had a relapse, but the truth is, I haven’t. I still find it hard to believe myself. There are some mornings where I wake up, fully expecting to feel that emptiness inside me, but it never comes. I can honestly say that as of right now, I’m free from fear, free from anxiety and free from Ann…
Chapter 12
Ushering Mateo to the floor, I wander over to the window and watch the rain lash against the cloudy glass. The sky is a dark shade of grey, which is only broken up by the odd bolt of lightning. When I rolled out of bed this morning, I quickly realised I didn’t arrange a time with Aidan to come over today. I also realised I had no means of contacting him to find out and after two hours of watching the horrendous weather outside, I’m not holding my breath.
Just as I’m considering giving up, there’s a knock at the door. Frowning in confusion, I press my nose against the window to get a glimpse of my visitor through the driving rain. Not being able to see anything more than a wet blur, I jog along the lobby and throw open the door.
‘Aidan!’ I exclaim, my jaw dropping to the floor as I take in his
drenched appearance. ‘Oh, my goodness! Come inside.’
Smiling gratefully, he attempts to shake the excess water out of his hair before stepping into the hallway. His clothes are saturated from the rain, causing wet droplets to form a perfect circle around him.
‘You’re soaked!’ Dashing into the kitchen, I grab a couple of towels from the laundry basket.
‘I know. It’s a long walk from the bus stop.’ Accepting a towel, he peels off his jacket and wipes himself down.
‘You walked in the rain?’ I ask in bewilderment, hanging his coat over the radiator to dry off. ‘Why didn’t you get a taxi?’
‘I like walking.’ Folding the towel neatly, he hands it back to me and looks around the lobby.
Before I can question his bizarre decision to walk two miles in torrential conditions, he snaps into work mode.
‘So, what exactly is it you want me to look at?’
Grabbing the list I wrote from the cabinet, my cheeks turn pink as he squints at the messy scribbles. ‘Please excuse my terrible handwriting.’
He forces a thin smile and taps the paper with a stubby pencil. ‘Is it okay to have a look around?’
‘Of course.’ I reply, gesturing for him to make himself at home. ‘Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee?’
‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Taking the list with him, he gives me a polite nod and disappears into the living room.
With a final glance at his wet jacket, I make my way into the kitchen and flick on the kettle. When Aidan offered to call over today, I pictured him arriving in a white van with a pair of shoddy overalls. Between you and me, I’m a little concerned about how much work he can carry out with a solitary pencil that has seen better days.