A Game to Love

by Fox Brison

  So everything happened and nothing at the same time.

  “She told me her father was not her biological father and her mother told her this in a steaming row just before the drug incident.”

  “Oh.” There wasn’t much more Dana could say.

  “I knew from the moment we began that she had issues with her parents, her mother in particular. She worships her father, however.”

  “Do you think she took the drugs because of her mother’s revelation?”

  “Yes… actually, no. I think it was deeper than that. Finding out her father wasn’t her father was the final straw. Her mother was a martinet and had George so tightly wound that when she eventually snapped-”

  “Boy, did she snap. Emma, you have to walk away, you’re too emotionally involved and it now sounds like George’s problems are out of your remit.”

  “You’re right. She definitely encountered emotional abuse at the hands of her mother, maybe even psychological abuse. When she returns I’ll recommend someone else. Do you know anyone?” George had made such leaps and bounds accepting me as her therapist, that I was kicking myself for fucking it up.

  “Karen Sweeney is great, I could sound her out for you if you like, ask her if she’ll take over George’s case.” Dana took another sip of coffee, watching me over the rim of her cup. I was pacing. And pulling at my dressing gown. And pacing. “Drink your coffee, Em.”

  “I don’t want it, I’m too amped already. Jesus, Dana, how the hell did I get here?” I exploded in frustration.

  “Does it matter? Look it’s true the circumstances aren’t exactly perfect, but do you know something? I haven’t seen you show this much emotion since the day you found out you were pregnant with Lawrie. George isn’t the only one who’s been afraid to let go. Would it be so bad, you and George? You like her, she likes you.” Dana drained her coffee and waved the cup for another one. “And once you’re no longer her psychologist, there’s nothing holding you back. Let it go, Em. Give yourself a break and maybe in the same breath, give Georgia a chance to make you happy.”

  “How can I, Dana? You saw what happened when Fiona left. Lawrie was devastated. He grew up with her, viewed her as another parent. She hadn’t wanted to end the relationship…”

  “It was a hard decision but ultimately the right one.”

  “Yes, but I still second guess myself. It didn’t help that Fiona was so hurt she decided to make it a clean break and wanted nothing to do with Lawrie. He used to cry himself to sleep and never really understood why she went and never saw him again. We had discussion after discussion about divorce and separation. He understood, that people fall out of love with each other, and I think he believed the way Fiona abandoned him that she didn’t love him, that he was the one who had done something wrong. If I let George in, especially the way Lawrie is at the moment with the whole rejection by his father thing, and then she leaves? Good God, he’d be even more traumatised.”

  “I understand, Emma, I honestly do. But maybe you’re borrowing trouble.”

  “Maybe. Anyway, it’s a moot point, isn’t it? She ran off, tormented, to Eastbourne. I think I may have blown my chances on that score.” I sat up straighter with a new found resolve. “And I’m going to make damn well sure I don’t do any further damage.”

  Chapter 36

  Georgia

  The grandfather clock in the hall tick tocked its way to nine o’clock. I sat in an old leather armchair, my legs pulled up beneath me. The house was dusty. Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. The house was filthy, half a decade of ingrained dust upon layers of ingrained dust provided a botrytis feel to the furniture not covered.

  Just call me Miss Havisham.

  I hadn’t stepped foot in the house for five years, hadn’t been near hand since the day I left in Kermit and took off for Julia’s house chased by my short-comings. I could have sold the place and netted a tidy little sum, but I didn’t have the balls. I’d rather sleep in a camper van and live like a pauper than lose the last link to my father, the last link to when I was happy.

  And that was the crux of the matter.

  No matter how many psychologists I visited, or how many coaches wrapped things up in neat little parcels, I was still grieving for the death of my relationship with my parents. I couldn’t allow a kernel of joy to propagate inside my heart, because if I did then I would no longer be able to punish myself for my mother’s mistake. What I had to do now was accept it and move on, but that was easier said than done.

  The doorbell interrupted my thoughts and I frowned. It rang again and was accompanied by a furious pounding and a familiar voice shouting, “Open up this bloody door, Maskel. I missed out on morning sex because you were hiding from the world.” There was no anger in the tone, just concern. I sighed and went to the door. “Mary, Mother of God, you look terrible.” Julia always got more Irish when she was scared and I swear she turned into her mother. Right now, she must have been quaking in her boots, because Mrs Ryan was standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. She pulled me into a tight hug and it seemed to take her forever to let go.

  “I know I should have called, but I needed a night alone.”

  “You could have had that at the cottage. I would’ve stayed at Dana’s.” Julia took my hands. “Blimey O’Reilly, you’re freezing. Have you been here all night?”

  “Yes.”

  I saw more than one emotion cross Julia’s face before she said, “Are you hungry? Because I’m starving. I didn’t even have a coffee before I left Cambridge. Let’s go to Martha’s. It’s still there isn’t it?” she asked. Julia wasn’t giving me any time to think between each of her rapid fire statements; she’d be a scarily good reporter if her boss would give her a chance.

  Maybe she should try law instead.

  After I nodded she said, “Thanks be to God, otherwise I would’ve really been pissed at you. Right,” she stood up and dusted her hands down her jeans, “let’s go and you can tell your Aunty Jules what that big bad shrink did to you over a nice big greasy fry up. It might even make amends for me missing my loving this morning.” Julia guided me out of the door and I locked up.

  “I needed to come home, just once,” I said quietly. We stood next to Kermit, a fine misty rain clinging to our hair and clothes. “Some mornings, when I wake up, I pretend I’m home and Dad is about to call me for brekker. Sick huh?” I unlocked Jules’ door and she climbed in. I hurried round to my side, suddenly starving, for both breakfast and to tell Jules the truth.

  “No, sweetie. Not sick, it’s totally understandable. I felt you pulling away from me… no that’s not quite right. You seemed to be more isolated from me; I was losing you, losing our friendship and I didn’t know how to stop it. I always wondered why you came to me, what your mother had done to you, I simply figured when you were ready you’d tell me. Besides, I was just glad I had my best friend back. Eventually, you were almost you again.”

  “Jules, why didn’t you say something? You could never lose me. Hell, I’ve needed you in my life for the last twenty two years.”

  “What, and be like one of those people who stands in the way of the dreams of the people they supposedly love because they’re jealous? No way Jose. And, George, it’s not a one way street, I need you too.”

  “C’mon, I’ll buy you that breakfast and tell you everything, but you have to promise not a word to anyone, especially not Dana. Okay?”

  “Wow. Okay. Dating a psychiatrist might not be the worst thing in the world if it makes us open up like this!” Julia sniggered.

  “You have such a filthy mind. How the hell do you find double entendres in such simple statements?”

  “Skill, I guess. Or maybe it’s sexual frustration?” She seemed so proud of her achievement I had to laugh.

  “It’s weird, how I’ve let the past rule my life,” I said as we sat waiting at a junction for the slowest bin lorry in all of England to trundle by. “Can you remember when I was in Year 9? I had that growth spurt and was all arms
and legs. Everyone was all over me because I’d just made the Wimbledon Juniors third round. I mean it wasn’t all that, really, but at our school-”

  “At our school, it was as if you’d just been crowned the new Queen of England.”

  “Exactly. It was mad. Suddenly I was irresistible… I wasn’t complaining mind you. That’s when I had my… wow…my first kiss with Jennifer MacMillan in the cricket pavilion.”

  “She was gorgeous and a year ahead of us. Funny, you had a thing for older women even back then.” Jules winked and we laughed.

  “The thing is Mrs Clarke saw us and Mum was called up to the school. I remember being on cloud nine. And then Mum gave me hell. Real hell. Told me she was ashamed of me, that I was an animal who couldn’t control even the basic of urges. God, I was only fourteen and she made me feel ashamed of myself.”

  “Oh. I… oh…”

  “Julia Ryan speechless? Never thought I’d see the day. Anyway she ordered me to control myself. She warned me that if I didn’t, she’d send me off to a tennis camp abroad. I’d have to leave school, you, my Dad. She’d first threatened me with it when I was eleven and I failed to make the county team after I’d had that twisted ankle. It was in Serbia and you had to go there for like two years with little or no contact from the outside world. It was more like a prison work camp.”

  “Oh… oh my God. I knew your Mum was highly strung and crazily ambitious for you, but I never in a million years thought she was that bad. That borders on sociopathic.”

  “She put on a good act for the most part when around other people. There was no way anyone could have known what she was really like. I’ve been carrying this around with me for years, but I think I’m ready to finally move on.” There wasn’t much more to say to that, Julia simply gave my knee a friendly squeeze of support and we continued the journey in silence both of us lost in our thoughts.

  We eventually reached the café and the bell above the door tinkled as we entered, the steam and odour of fried foods meeting us with a welcoming handshake. The yellow walls, recently painted (ten years ago) held a massive blackboard with illegible writing indicating the menu of the day.

  That also hadn’t changed in ten years.

  The Formica tables were relatively empty, only a couple of workman in dirty blue overalls slurping tea and shovelling food keeping us company. Martha hadn’t changed either, she was wearing the same red apron and blue hair net. She waved in recognition before turning to get something out of the large refrigerator behind her.

  “So that’s what you and Emma talked about yesterday? I got the feeling something major had happened. She seemed upset this morning.” Julia removed her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair. Water dripped onto the floor beneath it, each drop another revelation, another truth I had to share with her.

  “You saw Emma this morning?” I feigned disinterest, moving the condiments around to get at the menus, not that we needed them.

  “Yeah, Dana and I went over to see if she knew where you were. It was actually her son that gave you up.”

  I’d totally forgotten Lawrence had texted last night. “No… it wasn’t Mum we talked about, well, it was but not just her,” I was rambling so I paused. It surprised me how much easier it was to be honest; the more I said it, the easier it became. And, maybe, it was growing easier to accept the truth. I had avoided it for so long fearing the ramifications. “I… I told Emma something that I never thought I’d ever tell anyone.” Jules was wide eyed and waited with baited breath until I thought she was going to pass out. “Jules, my Dad isn’t my Dad.”

  “What?” To say she looked shocked would be the understatement of the century. “You’re fucking joking me. Seriously?”

  “I wish I was, but yes, I’m being totally serious. I’m the product of a sordid one night stand.” I snorted derisively. “Mum didn’t even know the guy’s name. She told me the day before I played Arnez, it’s sort of the reason I took the drugs. I wanted to forget you know?” I took a swig of the orange juice that had just been poured form the fridge. “Thanks, Martha.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s good to see you, Georgy. I keep looking out for you in the papers. Your Dad used to come in here every Wednesday and say you were going to win Wimbledon.”

  “I have time, Serena won it in her thirties.” Martha took out a tiny notebook and even tinier pencil.

  “That’s the spirit, George, now what can I get you girls?” she asked.

  “Can you give us a minute please, Martha, I’m having trouble deciding.” Jules said, obviously keen to continue our conversation.

  “Not a bother, just give me a shout when you’re ready.” Martha went back to her newspaper.

  “Does your Dad know?”

  “Of course not. And I couldn’t I tell him, he’d just lost the business.” I stopped myself. No more lies Georgy. “But the biggest reason I held back was because I couldn’t take the risk of losing him,” I laughed but it came out more as a pathetic yelp. “However, that’s ultimately what happened anyway. I couldn’t bear to be around my own parents because of this sword of Damocles hanging over my head. Then when Mum took up with Laura and Dad started managing her career, it became a bit of a non-issue. They were travelling a lot and everything just drifted till it became too late to say anything. I mean, what was the point?” I still owned a pain in my chest every time I thought of telling him, of imagining the look of revulsion on his face, of losing his love.

  “Oh, Georgy, I don’t think your Dad… he worships you, he wouldn’t just-”

  “How do you know? Jesus, I’ve tried to picture what it would be like for him if I told him that not only did his wife cheat on him, she got pregnant and he’s had a cuckoo in the nest all these years. He’d be devastated, Jules, I just couldn’t do that to him. He’s a good bloke who doesn’t deserve it.”

  “I wish I’d known. There’s no way I would have done what I did yesterday if I had. But it’s cool. We can cancel, not a problem. I’ll phone her now.” Julia was looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a Hummer travelling at ninety miles an hour down the motorway.

  “Phone who now? Dana? If you’ve made plans, don’t cancel them on my behalf, I’ll be alright.”

  “No… not Dana, Laura.”

  “Laura who?” I reached for my glass of juice. It seemed Julia was having far more luck on the women front than I was.

  “Hargreaves.”

  It was said plainly, as if I should understand. Yeah right, that so wasn’t happening. “What? What’s going on, Jules? Why the hell would you be doing anything with Laura Hargreaves?”

  “That’s who I was with yesterday when you called. I was interviewing mega cow. I didn’t say anything because I knew she was a sore subject, totally understandable, especially knowing what I do now. She’s just won a tournament in the States and Dan found out I sorta knew her.” Jules hung her head, grimacing. “Plus he knows you and I are best mates. It might have been another angle for him to pitch.”

  “A pissy little tournament and you have to interview her? It wasn’t like it was a Masters 1000 or anything.”

  “Exactly my point, but you know Daniel, he just wouldn’t listen. Anyway, when you called I was talking to her… I’m sorry, George. Just remember what you said earlier about needing me and what a great friend I am.”

  “Hey, sweetie, it’s your job, I understand. Don’t be sorry, it was a good thing you fobbed me off anyway because it gave me the night to think things through-”

  “No, you don’t understand, I’m not sorry about blowing you off, well I am but-” she grimaced again. “You know how Laura always pushes my buttons.”

  “Yeeesss.” I was starting to feel nervous, and if Jules didn’t hurry up with her explanation, I might have to drop her off Beachy Head.

  “Well she started nice enough, but then she segued big time into calling you a loser and stuff.”

  “I guess that stuff was about my parents?” Julia nodded. “Right. Oh hell, Ryan, what
have you done?” My phone beeped and it was a message from David. I scrolled through it. And then again. I looked up at her with disbelief and I said, “Seriously, Julia… what have you done?”

  “You know how ultra-competitive Laura is,” she protested.

  “Ya think?” I showed her the message from David.

  “Oh shit.”

  “Oh shit is right. It appears in a fortnight I’m going to be playing Laura Hargreaves in an exhibition match. Seriously, can you imagine my mother’s glee over the whole thing? She probably can’t wait to see me thrashed.”

  “Well at least there’s one thing, you can see if Emma has helped you get over your block.”

  “Ha, bloody ha.” I shook my head but she had a point. I reached over and gripped her hand. “Thanks for always being there, Jules.”

  “And for missing morning sex.”

  “And for missing morning sex. Let’s head back home. I have a match to prepare for.”

  “Wait, what about breakfast? Please, George, I think I’m gonna faint.”

  “Alright.” I said it with a plaintive sigh, but I didn’t mean it; I was starving too.

  “Two full Monty’s please Martha.” Jules shouted up to the counter. “I am absolutely ravenous.”

  “Oh yeah, and what were you getting up to last night that you need a Monty this morning? Or need I ask.”

  “You need and I will gladly answer. Dana cooked me dinner and then we watched a few episodes of Criminal Minds.” Dana and Julia had spent the last few nights with each other, getting to know each other better. Apparently, they both liked what they found out.

  Go figure.

  “You’re not usually a fan of those crime dramas.”

  “No, but she is, she likes to heckle the analysts.” Julia shrugged. “Then we had an early night. I woke her at two am when I hadn’t heard you come home and you hadn’t texted. Or answered my calls. That’s why I need sustenance this morning.” Both of us were avoiding the topic of Emma and I was relieved, although I knew the sentence had merely been commuted as opposed to a governor’s pardon.