‘You don’t see them around much any more.’
‘To be honest, I hate them,’ Robin says. ‘I think they look bloody ridiculous, but I don’t have a lot of choice.’ Having reached his office, he opens the door, then steps back so that Diana can enter. ‘I like to wear a tie, because I think they look smart and I believe that gives the patients confidence.’ He closes the door and walks across to his desk. ‘But thanks to health and safety regulations, the apparent “danger of infection spread” or some such bloody nonsense, you can’t have anything… flappy.’
Diana is laughing as she sits down.
‘Yes, it sounds funny, but every morning I put on a proper tie, then when I get here I have to take it off and put on one of these stupid things.’ He points towards a drawer in his desk. ‘I’ve got a selection of them in there.’
‘Well, I think they look distinguished,’ Diana says. While Robin is dealing with some last-minute paperwork, she looks around the office that he shares with two other consultants. There is not a lot of space, with three desks crammed in, but the smell of leather and polished wood imbues the room with a sense of achievement and, as far as Diana is concerned, conveys the high status that is richly deserved.
That merits the brass nameplate on the door.
‘I can see why losing all this would be so painful,’ she says.
Robin looks across. He had told Diana about the blackmail note within minutes of her arrival. He could see no reason to keep it a secret, he had said, having already discussed it with Caroline. Now he nods, sadly. ‘Everything I trained for up in smoke,’ he says.
‘He won’t get away with it.’
‘I hope not.’
‘I mean it.’ Diana had put two and two together very quickly once Robin had mentioned the letter that had been waiting for him at home after the party. She had realised what he and Chris had been arguing about in the pub after the last session and told him that, for what it was worth, she thought his suspicions about Chris were well founded. ‘We can’t let him.’
Robin nods again. He has not yet told her what Caroline had said about Heather and the bin full of used scratch cards.
‘It’s your career we’re talking about,’ she says.
‘I’d let it go though.’ Robin slams a desk drawer shut. ‘If it came to it, I’d take that risk. I won’t be bullied.’
‘Maybe he’ll just drop it. Now you’ve told him you’ll go to the police.’
‘We’ll see,’ Robin says, getting to his feet. ‘Every morning I go to the letter box and I’m shaking like a bloody leaf in case there’s another one.’
‘I can see why you’re scared,’ Diana says. ‘But you’re certainly doing the right thing by standing up to him.’ She watches as Robin straightens his waistcoat, as he pulls his shirt sleeves down and buttons the white cuffs. ‘A lot of people would just roll over and hand over the money, because that would be the easy thing to do, but I think that everything you’ve been through, the drugs and so on, has made you far stronger and more principled than you might have been otherwise. Does that make sense?’ She sits back and breathes in the leather and the polished wood. ‘It’s… admirable, Robin, it really is. I mean that.’
‘Thanks. That’s… I appreciate it.’ Robin walks across and reaches for the jacket that is hung on a stand in the corner of the room. ‘I’d like to keep all this between ourselves for now, if that’s all right. Obviously Caroline is aware of it, but I certainly don’t want Tony knowing what’s going on. I don’t want any of this to disrupt our sessions.’
Diana nods, but it is not altogether clear that she has been listening. She says, ‘There are too many weak men in the world.’
Robin hums tacit agreement, unsure how else to react. He tugs at his cuffs, then holds out his arms. ‘Right then. Lunch?’
‘Yes, please.’ Diana stands up and steps towards the door.
‘Oh, wait a minute.’ Robin reaches for his bow tie. ‘Just let me take this stupid thing off.’
‘No, please keep it on,’ Diana says. ‘I like it.’
‘Well… if you say so.’
‘I do.’ She waits until he reaches her and puts an arm through his. ‘Have you ever thought about getting one that spins round?’
They are waiting to see what the weather is doing, trying to decide between a nearby pizza place or getting something they can eat outside, as they walk out of the hospital and turn towards South End Green.
That’s when they both catch sight of the man hurrying across the road towards them. When they realise, within a few moments of one another, who it is.
When they freeze.
Diana says Robin’s name and holds his arm a little tighter.
Robin says, ‘It’s all right.’
‘It was terrifying enough as it was,’ Diana will say to Caroline later on the phone. ‘Bearing in mind what Robin and I had just been talking about. But until he got close to us, I actually thought he was wearing a… mask.’
By the time Chris is within a few feet of them, they can both see what the mask really is. The ragged map of bruising, shiny and crimson below a half-closed eye and lips heavily swollen on one side.
‘What happened to your face?’ Diana asks.
Chris is now blocking their way and staring at Robin. ‘Ask your boyfriend.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Robin asks.
‘Were you mugged or something?’ Diana stays where she is, but there is genuine concern in her voice.
Chris hesitates. ‘I was attacked.’
‘Have you been to a doctor?’ Robin lets go of Diana’s arm and takes a step towards him. ‘Something might be broken. Why don’t you come inside and I can get someone to take a look at you?’
‘I think you’ve done quite enough,’ Chris says.
‘Are you trying to suggest that Robin was in some way responsible for this?’
‘He as good as threatened me in the pub the other night,’ Chris says. ‘You were there.’
‘You’ve lost your mind,’ Robin says.
‘Warning me. Telling me I’d be sorry.’
‘I didn’t say any such thing.’
‘Well, now I’m the one who’s got a good mind to go to the police.’
‘Do you seriously believe I got someone to beat you up?’
‘I know that one minute you’re accusing me, saying you won’t put up with being threatened.’ Chris touches a finger to his face. ‘And the next… this.’
‘Look, I’m sorry about the other night,’ Robin says. ‘Perhaps I did go a little over the top.’
Diana looks at him.
‘I’m sorry I lost my temper.’
‘People like you, people with money, you think you can do what you like.’ Chris is shouting. There are tears welling up. ‘You think you can get away with anything.’
‘Oh, come on, Chris.’ Diana holds out a hand, but Chris slaps it away.
‘Leave him.’ Robin takes Diana’s arm and draws her back to him, then leads her purposefully around Chris who is refusing to step aside. ‘This is completely insane.’
‘Fuck you,’ Chris shouts after them. ‘Both of you.’
As they walk quickly away down the hill, Diana turns and looks back. Chris is pointing at them, kicking out at fresh air. She watches a young couple passing him and trying not to stare as he sinks slowly down on to the pavement and gently brings his hands up to cover his face.
… THEN
‘Well, I think it’s fairly obvious that at least one of us hasn’t had the best of weeks.’
Tony’s remark does not succeed in lightening the mood as he had been hoping. Before the start of the session, there had been a great deal of concern expressed at the injuries to Chris’s face, and even though he had clearly not wanted to talk about it, certain members of the group had continued to press him. While Robin and Diana had stayed uncharacteristically silent, Heather and Caroline had insisted that – whatever the circumstances – he had been the victim of a vicious assault an
d at the very least, he should go to the police.
‘I’ll go with you, if you want some support,’ Heather had said.
‘Me too.’ Caroline had nodded across the room to where Robin and Diana were standing together, drinking tea. ‘Or maybe Robin would. You know, because he’s a professional.’
Now, Tony looks at Chris. Like everyone else in the group, he has focused his attention on the extra chair that has been brought in. The circle has been opened out and, though each member of the group is still in the same position relative to everyone else, they are now seated in a wide semicircle with Tony and Chris in the middle, each with a view of the single chair that is, as yet, unoccupied.
‘I want to concentrate on the “here and now” this week,’ Tony says. ‘I think there’s been some misunderstanding as to how this principle operates within the group, so I want to try and move things on a little.’ He looks around. Eyes are still fixed on the chair. ‘We’ve been working on the basis that what happens in the group is more important than what has happened to any individual in their past or what is happening to them now. Everyone needs to focus on their immediate feelings inside the circle. Their feelings towards the other members of the group and towards me.’ He leaves another pause. ‘With a few exceptions, we’ve been doing this pretty well, but now it’s time to move on to what people like me rather grandly call the “illumination of process”. OK?’ Another glance from face to face. ‘We need to honestly and openly examine ourselves and how we interact with one another. That way, we perform a self-reflective loop, and it’s only then that we can really understand what these feelings are telling us.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Caroline says. ‘All sounds a bit complicated.’
‘Well, I’m sorry if I’ve made it sound that way, because it really isn’t.’ Tony nods towards the chair. ‘We’re going to start with a simple hot-seating exercise.’ He looks to his right. ‘I think you’ve done this before, Robin.’
Robin nods.
‘And you, Heather?’
Heather says, ‘Once,’ as though that was one time too many, but produces a smile when Tony catches her eye.
‘How does it work?’ Caroline asks.
‘It’s probably easier if we just plunge in and find out,’ Tony says. ‘Robin, would you mind kicking things off?’
Robin gets up, walks across to the empty seat and sits down.
‘Usual rules apply,’ Tony says. ‘No dirty fighting and no interrogation. If someone says something that upsets you, we need to talk about why you’re upset and not waste time scoring points or playing tit-for-tat. Everyone OK with this?’
Nobody says that they aren’t.
Tony leaves a few seconds, turns to a fresh page in his notebook, then says, ‘Robin, I wonder if you can remember the last time you lost your temper. At work, perhaps, or with a family member.’
Robin nods, thinks about it. ‘Well… I try not to lose my temper, but last week there was an altercation with one of my colleagues.’
‘Which made you angry.’
‘Yes.’
‘OK. Now, if someone in the group were to make you feel like that, who is it most likely to be?’
Robin does not hesitate. ‘Chris.’
Chris is staring at the floor. He nods, unsurprised.
‘Why does Chris in particular make you angry?’
‘Just the way he is. The things he does.’
‘He pushes your buttons.’
‘It’s all fake,’ Robin says. ‘The tiresome jokes and the sex stuff. The confidence.’
‘You think it’s a lie?’
‘Sometimes, yes. A lot of the time.’
‘And you don’t like liars.’
‘No.’ Robin swallows and crosses his legs. ‘I don’t.’
‘We can all remember your story about what happened when you were a child.’ Tony looks to the others; inviting their participation. ‘I’m wondering if your feelings towards Chris, towards anyone you perceive to be untrustworthy in some way, are connected to the lie you told back then. To the fact that it’s the lie that you are most ashamed of.’
Robin says nothing, so Tony turns to Chris.
‘Chris, how do you feel about Robin saying he thinks you’re a liar?’
‘I don’t feel anything,’ Chris says. ‘I don’t really care.’
‘If you did care, if you maybe start to care when you get home tonight, what might the things Robin said make you feel?’
‘I’d probably just feel like laughing,’ Chris says. ‘At all the rubbish coming out of his mouth. Yeah, I lie, but so does everyone else. So does he.’
‘People lie hundreds of times a day,’ Caroline says. ‘I read it somewhere. Literally, hundreds.’
Tony looks at Robin. ‘You said that you try not to lose your temper. I’m wondering if it’s the loss of control that you’re frightened of.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because it’s… ugly.’
Tony waits.
‘Because I spent such a long time completely out of control, when I was using, and I never want to go back there. Exercising a degree of self-control is something I take great pride in.’
‘Hasn’t everyone in this circle been out of control at some point?’
‘Big time,’ Caroline says.
‘Maybe that’s why it’s so important,’ Robin says. ‘Why I don’t trust people without it.’
‘Trust is important to you,’ Tony says.
‘Very.’
‘Which member of the group would you say you trusted the most?’
‘Diana,’ Robin says.
Diana says, ‘Thank you,’ but Tony raises a finger. At this moment, he senses that conflict will be of rather more use therapeutically than backslapping.
‘And who do you trust the least?’
Robin looks down for a few seconds and shifts in the chair. Then he says, ‘Heather.’
‘I think I’m close to everyone,’ Caroline says. ‘In different ways.’
‘If you had to choose one member of the group you felt closest to now,’ Tony says, ‘who would that be?’
‘Probably, Robin.’
‘OK…’
‘You know, the whole father-figure thing.’ Caroline laughs. ‘Sorry, Robin.’
‘Do you find yourself looking for a father figure in other situations?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Is your father still alive?’
‘No, he isn’t.’
‘You were close to him, though.’
‘Course.’
‘And you feel as though Robin’s a father figure to the whole group?’
‘Well, probably not to Chris.’
Diana stifles a snort. Chris is leaning back, his legs stretched out in front of him. He acknowledges the namecheck with a nod, as if he feels rather proud of the recognition.
‘Do you think Robin is the person in the group who would influence you the most?’
Caroline cocks her head, thinking about it. She seems quite comfortable at being asked the questions; enjoying the process. The smile has not left her face. ‘Not necessarily,’ she says. ‘I think I probably looked up to Heather at the beginning.’
‘Not any more?’
‘No, I don’t mean that. She was really nice when I first started coming, that’s all. She told me she thought I’d fit in.’
‘Do you think you fit in?’
‘Yeah, I do. I mean I’m no more screwed up than anyone else, am I?’ She turns in her chair, tries to look at everyone else, as though seeking affirmation or laughter.
‘So, if Robin’s a father figure, do you see other members of the group as… siblings?’
‘Yeah, I suppose. Heather and Chris… a bit, because we’re a bit closer in age. And the whole love/hate thing.’
‘Your feelings towards them swing between those two extremes?’ Tony asks.
‘Not literally. Just… I’m not always sure if Heather actually
likes me and sometimes I want to smash Chris’s face in when he makes some comment about how I look. But then he makes me laugh or something… and it’s not like I don’t know why he’s doing it.’
‘Why do you think he’s doing it?’
‘Because he’s insecure.’
‘Is that something you recognise?’
‘Yeah, course.’ The smile falters and for the first time she begins to look slightly uncomfortable. ‘Isn’t everyone?’
‘Is there anyone in the group who makes you feel more insecure?’
‘I said. When Chris makes fat jokes.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘Not really,’ Caroline says.
‘Who would you say is the most secure person in the group?’
‘Probably Robin again. That’s how he seems, anyway. What do I know, though? He might go home and cry himself to sleep every night.’
‘Is that what you do?’
‘No.’ The smile returns. ‘Not every night.’
Tony smiles back. He says, ‘If you were to go home and cry yourself to sleep, who is the person in the group who would probably be responsible?’
‘I don’t know.’ She drums her fingers against her thighs. ‘I mean, it could be anybody, couldn’t it? Like I said, I feel close to everyone, so that means everyone’s equally likely to upset me, doesn’t it?’
Experience tells Tony that blanket statements like this are rarely, if ever true. He needs to come at the issue another way. He says, ‘How about if I asked you if there was someone in the group who you’re not quite as close to as you’d like?’
Caroline puffs out her cheeks then lets the breath out slowly. Her face creases, as though she’s reaching for the one fact that will win her a million on some game show. Eventually, she says, ‘Maybe Diana.’ She turns immediately and says, ‘Sorry, Diana, I had to say somebody.’ She looks back to Tony. ‘Bloody hell, this is really difficult. It’s like the vote-off in X Factor…’
Tony scribbles in his notepad, then looks up.
‘Is there someone in the group who you feel tends to dominate the sessions?’
‘Well, probably Chris,’ Diana says. She folds her arms. She appears relaxed, confident. ‘In that we have to spend so much time dealing with all his nonsense.’
Die of Shame Page 25
