by Finella Vane
“No, it’s fine, Niav. She’s very happy and I’m very happy for her,” Gina liked Evelyn very much but with Elise her feelings went a lot deeper.
“I hope she doesn’t leave to go work for her company. I like having her as my boss.”
“She likes being your boss so I doubt she’d leave.”
The two women sat on the bench for a little while longer until Niav said she was no longer feeling light-headed. On their way back to the flat they stopped at a local, chain sandwich shop to pick-up lunch. It was a poor substitute for the lunch they wanted but it would have to do. Gina had to run some errands before she headed to the restaurant. Niav confirmed that Gina would come to brunch on Sunday so she and Anselle could tell the Englishman all about their holiday at the seaside.
Just as Niav saw Gina out the door her mobile rang. It was Elise’s receptionist; she informed her that Elise couldn’t see her until her scheduled appointment time on Wednesday. Niav was disappointed but she thanked her for getting back to her and disconnected the call. Before she could close her flat door the grocery delivery arrived. The woman put away the groceries then checked her emails again before setting to work on a new research project. There was no email regarding her tarot card submission but she wasn’t very happy with her sketches so she wasn't really surprised.
When Anselle got home she found her fiancé asleep on the sofa cuddling The History of Ireland until the 15th Century. The blonde brushed back a stray lock of curls to place a kiss on the sleeping girl’s forehead. Anselle watched her partner’s face, relaxed and peaceful in sleep for a moment before she uprighted herself and went into the bedroom to change out of her suit. Niav was whimpering softly when Anselle returned to the living room. Anselle knelt next to the sofa, removed the book from Niav’s arms, took her partner’s hands and softly called her name. “Niav,” she whispered, “Niav.”
“Mmm?” The woman mumbled sleepily.
“You were moaning in your sleep. Are you alright?”
“Mmm,” the brunette was not any more awake than she was a second ago.
“Niav, open your eyes, talk to me.”
“Sssshhheeeepy,” Niav managed to say but the word was slurred as if she were drunk.
“You’re sheepy?" Anselle smiled, "You want me to make dinner?”
“No, ‘m up.”
“You don’t look up. Are you feeling okay? You were moaning before.”
“Mm up. Mm up,” the woman opened one, golden-brown eye. “I’m fine. It’s hard getting back into the work routine after being away.”
“Tell me about it. I’m actually surprised I’m home this early. I thought I’d be at the office all night catching up. But in your case I’m sure the 15th century didn’t help keep you awake.”
“Oh, no. It was actually very interesting. For instance, did you know that there’s a record of the King of England sending a giraffe to Ireland?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know,” the woman was definitely disappointed. “It doesn’t say why.”
Anselle grinned, “Is that what you’re researching, giraffes in Irish history?”
“You’re so lucky you’re cute and I love you.”
“I know.”
***
Niav began her session like every session; telling Elise about what had happened to her since their last meeting. But it was Anselle who went into detail regarding what she referred to as Niav’s change in personality while they were away. Elise furiously made notes while Anselle explained to her about Niav’s confidence and the way the woman seemed to ignore the fact that they were out in public with various sized groups of people.
When asked Niav had no explanation, “I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I didn’t think about it. There was so much to see and do. Everywhere we went was a different experience for me and Anselle was there with me. I know she won’t let anything happen to me.”
“And how have you been since you got back?”
Niav realized that Gina wouldn’t have told Elise about her attack symptoms in the café. “Things are the same here.”
“You mean the same as they were while you were away or the same as they were before you left?”
“Before we left?”
“And why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. It’s very frustrating. I was hoping that I was cured,” she really was.
“Can you remember if something happened to you before your first attack? Something that may have triggered you, here in London?”
It wasn't hard for Niav to answer that question. It was something she had thought about for years but there was nothing she could think of, “I can’t think of anything that happened to me that would cause me to have this disorder.”
“Had you ever been to London before you moved here?”
Niav shook her head, “No. We stayed very close to home. We have no relatives here so my parents never brought me here. I went to art school in Dublin.”
“Why did you choose to come to London?”
“Because my parents never come here which meant that I wouldn’t have to be afraid of seeing them and I had a job offer which I quickly accepted so I came. I made a few friends, got my first real girlfriend and everything was fine until that Christmas.”
“Were your parents okay with your moving to London?”
“By then I don’t think they really cared, in fact I think my dad was glad. I had been working and living at home but I lost that job and my dad blamed my being gay for it. I sent out my CV to everyone in Dublin and London I could think of with an art department whether they were hiring or not. I got offered the job I have now and I left.”
“What were your Christmas holidays like?”
“We had the stereotypical Christmases; tree, stockings over the fireplace, lights around the windows and doors, candles in the windows. We went to midnight mass and went to Gran’s for a big family dinner. Then when she passed we went to my Aunt’s for a year or two. Then we just stayed home.”
“When is the last time you saw your parents?”
“I went home to pick-up some things I had left behind when I had moved out. My mom had called me and said that my dad was going to throw them away if I didn’t collect them. This was early March 2011. I had had a few attacks but I was still able to go out. When I got there she was so happy to see me. I told her about what I had been going through and she seemed very concerned. We talked for hours while I packed my things in boxes. I was there for a few days and she told my dad about my attacks. She told me that I was being punished by God. My mom told me that she loved me but she was very disappointed in my choices. That was the last I saw either of them.”
“How long after that did you have your next attack?”
“It was one week after I got home.”
“And how long after that until you were agoraphobic?”
“Three months and during that time I had four more attacks.”
“You had your first attack in December 2010 by June 2011 you had at least seven attacks and were no longer able to go out.”
“I had nine attacks during that period but you already know all that,” she was asking questions she already knew the answers too and it was beginning to bother her.
“You didn’t have any attacks in Ireland though when you went to visit your parents even though the visit turned stressful.”
That was something Niav hadn’t thought about before, “No.”
Anselle who had been listening intently asked, “You think that something about London gives Niav her attacks?”
“It’s possible. It’s certainly an avenue worth exploring.”
“But I felt the beginnings of an attack when Anselle was on the cliff edge and I still can’t go out on my balcony.”
“What were you afraid of when you saw Anselle on the cliff edge?”
“That she was going to fall,” Niav gave Anselle’s hand a squeeze.
“Okay, so let’s put together what we know. London, crowds and
the fear of falling but it doesn’t have to be all three together because you’ve had attacks in just crowds and just when you thought about falling.”
“But,” Niav added, “I had symptoms outside London when Anselle was on the cliff edge. Doesn’t that disprove whatever theory you’re trying to come up with regarding London?”
“Not necessarily. The fear of falling is quite common and you’re fear of Anselle falling may have caused you to have a reaction. You did have an attack when Anselle suggested climbing over the balcony the day you locked yourself out of your flat.”
“But that was before she and I were a confirmed couple.”
“But you still wouldn’t have wanted her to fall.” Niav shook her head and Elise continued, “You’re love for Anselle and your fear for her safety carries on outside London as would your own fear of falling. I can go on balconies but I wouldn’t have gone near the cliff edge and I certainly wouldn’t want a loved one to go near it either.”
“I’m still confused. I retained my fear of falling but not my fear of crowds?”
“It would seem so but you said yourself that you were distracted by all the different things around you. I’d like you to stay on the same dose of medication for now and I’d like you to think about London. And I wonder if you would try to contact your mother and ask her if she had ever brought you to London when you were small.”
Niav didn't want to cry again when she started to think about her mother so she just stood, prepared to leave and said she’d do the best she could.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
There were two items on the kitchen counter; one, a small, cardboard shipping box the other a small, ivory envelope. Niav knew what was in the box but not what was in the envelope. The excitement she felt when she saw the parcel was quickly replaced by confusion and a little anxiety when she saw the envelope. The handwriting addressing the envelope to her and Anselle was almost instantly recognized as her mothers. The return address, her own from childhood. She couldn’t understand what it was doing there. Despite Elise’s repeated requests to contact her mother, she hadn’t. It’s not that she didn’t try, she did. Over the past month she picked up the phone several times, even dialed once but she couldn’t go through with it. The artist didn’t know what there was to say. She didn’t know how to ask the woman who had called her a disappointment for help. Would she even help her if she asked? She wasn’t sure she would and she couldn’t handle any more rejection from her.
So, she did next to nothing and now there was a letter from her.
Niav took a few deep breaths to calm down. ‘It’s just a piece of paper,’ she told herself, ‘nothing to be scared of’. She picked up the letter with a trembling hand turning it over and over before sliding a finger under the sealed flap. The artist took a few more deep breaths before she slowly parted the edges of the envelope to lift out the contents.
‘Congratulations on Your Engagement’ was written in green calligraphy across the front of the plain, ivory card with a stylized flourish underneath. The woman recalled that Anselle had suggested sending an engagement announcement to her while they were on holiday but it wasn’t brought up again and the matter had been forgotten, at least by her. But clearly it hadn’t been by Anselle.
Niav took the card into the sitting room and sat down on the sofa. The artist ran her fingers over the calligraphy, it looked and felt handwritten and she briefly wondered if her mother had taken lessons. She took another deep breath, closed her eyes and opened the card; another deep breath and she opened her eyes:
My Dearest Niav,
Words cannot express my joy at receiving your engagement announcement. I know we didn’t part under the best circumstances but you are often in my thoughts and always in my heart. I’ve had a lot of time to do a lot of thinking, Niav, and I’m sorry for not trying to understand and support you. I know it wasn’t easy for you to tell us and I let your father bully me into turning my back on you when you needed me the most. When I close my eyes I can still see the hurt look on your face when I told you that you were a disappointment to me. For that, I can never be sorry enough. I could never be disappointed with you. You’re my son, my only child, and I love you and I’m so proud of you. I won’t ask you to call or even write back but someday I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I also hope and pray that you and your young girl will be very happy together.
Love,
Mum
Tears ran freely down Niav’s face as she read the words over and over. Not only was she happy for her she was proud of her and asking for her forgiveness. Her mobile was in her hand before she knew it and she had dialed her number. When she heard the soft ‘hello’ she managed to squeak out “mum?” before her emotions overwhelmed her.
***
Niav was still emotionally raw when Anselle opened the flat door that evening. Anselle could tell her fiancé had been crying from the puffy, red eyes, runny nose and piles of used tissues on the coffee table. No words were exchanged while Anselle put down her lap-top bag and sat on the sofa to take Niav in her arms but the artist leaned away and held out a card. The blonde took the card, opened it and read the message. She read it again before looking at her fiancé, “Love?”
“I called her,” Niav said softly, her voice hoarse from crying, “We cried a lot.”
Anselle opened her arms and that time Niav sank into the embrace, “I’m sure you did, Baby and I’m sorry. Did you get a chance to ask her about your past?”
Niav slid down on the sofa so her head rested on Anselle’s chest. She found comfort in Anselle’s strong heartbeat, “No, I didn’t get a chance. She said she’d call me soon.”
“Did you get to talk about anything else?”
“She repeated what she said in the letter, said she was sorry and that she thought about me all the time. She said she worried about me and wondered if I still had attacks. I told her that I was getting better with your help and with Elise.” Niav’s tears started to fall again, “she said she was glad that I had found love and that I deserved to be happy.” She buried her face in Anselle’s shirt.
Anselle’s embrace tightened around her sobbing partner, “She’s so right about that.”
The couple eventually shifted position so Anselle was lying down with Niav pressed between her body and the back of the sofa. The woman’s head once again rested on Anselle’s chest. Dinner was forgotten about as the sun sets and the room gradually grew dark but neither girl was eager to break away. Niav’s arm and leg went numb from the position she had been in for so long and she has no choice but to move. She climbed off the sofa trying not to lean too heavily on the snoozing girl beneath her. She was not quick enough, however, to escape Anselle’s hand on her wrist.
“Where ya goin, Love?”
Niav rubbed her numb arm, “Half of my body is asleep, need to wake it up again.”
“Comin’ back?”
“Come to bed,” the brunette held out her hand to her partner.
Anselle grasped her fiancé’s hand and shifted to a sitting position with a sharp tug she pulled Niav down onto her lap, “Hey now,” the woman chuckled as she puts her arms around Anselle’s shoulders.
“I want to help you wake your body up,” Anselle gently pushed Niav off her lap and down onto the sofa. She shifted herself so she was lying between Niav’s legs. It was in the middle of one, long, spectacularly passionate kiss that Niav remembered the little box. The woman broke the kiss, “Wait, wait,” she pushed at Anselle’s chest to back the blonde off.
Anselle took a minute to catch her breath before reluctantly sitting back on her knees to let Niav up from the sofa. Once the taller brunette was out from under Anselle rolled herself onto her back so she could watch what her partner was doing. In the soft moonlight shining through the sliders Anselle could see the woman pick a small box up from the kitchen counter, carry it to the other side of the room, take a blade from the utility drawer and slice the packing tape open. Anselle next saw Niav dump the contents of
the box into the palm of her hand but she couldn’t quite make out what it was.
The woman turns her head and saw Anselle watching her from the sofa so she turned her back to open the velvet, ring box. It was exactly what she described to the jeweler, it was perfect. “This isn’t how I planned to give you this,” Niav said as she returned to the sofa after flipping on the light, “but I can’t wait any longer. I couldn’t find one I liked on-line so I had this custom made. That’s why it took so long.” The artist puffed out her chest a little with pride, “I even went to the jewelers by myself. I hope you like it.”
The blonde took the small, velvet box from her partner’s outstretched palm. Her blue eyes widened as she gently lifted the silver ring from the box. A single diamond flanked by two blue stones laid in the polished center while Celtic knot work encircled the band, “Oh my, Niav, it’s….it’s beautiful.”
“The blue stones are called London Blue Topaz. I picked this blue because London is where we met and live and even though the topaz is deeper it reminds me of your eyes.”
Anselle gave the ring to Niav and held out her left hand. The woman slipped the ring onto Anselle’s finger; it fit perfectly. Their eyes locked for a moment before Niav tackled Anselle to the sofa.
***
Niav beat herself up for contacting her mother when, as the weeks passed, she didn’t call her back. The artist called her several times, leaving messages sometimes and other times just hanging up when she heard the prerecorded beep. She tried to harden her heart over it but she couldn’t; she wasn't the type. She had always been sensitive, letting everything affect her so deeply especially when it came to her. When Anselle asked how she was doing she wanted to say ‘fine’ but the word wouldn’t come out, she just clung to the blonde and cried. The woman told her partner and her doctor that she felt so stupid for hoping that she’d finally have a relationship with her after years apart. They tell her that it was definitely not her fault and that she would contact her again when she was ready. The artist told them that she never wanted to hear from her again.