Changes

by A B Turner

  “And, for the record, I’m not sure I would have believed me either, so there’s no need to feel bad, is there?”

  I shook my head, before pulling her towards me and hugging her tightly, she laughed,

  “Steady on, honey, or are you trying to confess your latent feelings for me?”

  I stepped back,

  “You wish!” I laughed.

  “So that’s a no then....oh well, at least we ‘re OK, anyway, I hope you’re getting on with the arrangements for my hen-night?” she continued, after linking her arm through mine, we started walking slowly towards her car,

  “As we’re being honest, no, I wasn’t sure what kind of thing you wanted,”I answered. Kat pulled us both to a sharp stop and looked at me incredulously,

  “Carrie!Get a grip! I want a booze-fuelled funfest, with completely inappropriate entertainment thrown in !” she gasped, quickly adding, “But no male stripper, that whole banana and whipped cream stuff has been done so often.”

  I laughed and assured her, I would start straightaway,

  “So I should bloody well think, and no baby oil either, it’s a right pain to get out of your clothes afterwards,” she ranted.

  “Well, you should know,” I replied, Kat was poised to reply before acknowledging there was more than a hint of truth in my words, still laughing we restarted our walk, both of us content any bad feeling between us was well and truly passed.

  As soon as I was home, I set to work, first by emailing all of the people I knew Kat would want to be there, before turning my attention to the event itself, which I rapidly decided should spread over a weekend rather than just a single night out. It took the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening to plan, but at last, I was able to switch off the laptop and settle back on the sofa, completely sure I had organised potentially the best night ever, I drifted off to bed, both happy with my work but also incredibly relieved everything was right between us once more.

  Chapter 6

  Over the next couple of days, I received a couple of messages from Jay asking if I was alright, which I answered as briefly as possible, I was still in two minds about being with him, on the one hand, the sex was incredible but, despite that, it just didn’t feel right somehow. I was still struggling with this internal debate when I arrived at the counselling centre for my next appointment, I had spent the previous night attempting to truthfully complete the questionnaire Charlotte had given me at my last visit. Having expected to find it really difficult, I had been pleasantly surprised to discover, she was right, it was easier to organise your thoughts when you wrote them down.

  I checked in at reception, as I walked towards the waiting room, Charlotte appeared and after greeting me, asked how I had got on with her form, when I produced the completed sheet, she smiled warmly, although I felt like a kid handing in their homework.

  “Would you mind giving me a few minutes to read through this?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” I replied, attempting to sound casual, whereas the reality was, I suddenly felt really nervous, when I had answered the questions at home, I ‘d somehow managed to forget anyone would actually read them.

  “Right then, I won’t be long, if there’s anything you need, just ask Victoria,” she finished, pointing towards the receptionist, Charlotte went back into her office and I wandered into the waiting room.

  As I waited, my mind started to try an recollect every word I had written, random questions started flying round my head in a whirl, had I said the right thing? Did I sound even remotely coherent?Had I made any sense at all? Just as I was about to drive myself completely mad, I forced myself to stop and be sensible, sternly reminding myself, Charlotte was a professional and obviously used to read this kind of thing. Suitably chastised, I settled back in the chair, I gazed out of the large windows at the end of the room, the wind was whipping through the trees, allowing me to have small glimpses of scudding clouds racing across the sky, this same breeze caused the packed flower beds to all sway together , as if performing some kind of Mexican wave, in fact, as I watched, the whole scene reminded me of a painting I had once seen somewhere. I became so lost, at first, I failed to notice Charlotte appear at the door, but when she coughed, I turned sharply, she smiled,

  “Would you like to come through?”

  I nodded and followed her along the passage way to her office, as I sat down she closed the door firmly behind her and took her place opposite me, pausing only to pick up her notebook from the desk.

  “To begin with, I should like to thank you for completing the form so thoroughly, it must have been difficult, especially when writing about your marriage...” she paused, when I nodded my agreement, she continued, “Although it would appear you have largely come to terms with that particular experience, would you agree?”

  “Yes,as I wrote, I found going back to our former house somehow managed to lay most of those ghosts to rest,” I answered.

  “That was the conclusion I reached, although it may have some relevance, don't you think? " she asked.

  “I suppose it could have some bearing,” I replied thoughtfully.

  “ Well, as we talk more, perhaps we will be able to make a link with events which have happened more recently, from what you’ve written, it seems the woman you met some months ago had a profound effect, would that be accurate?”

  A blur of images featuring of Vanessa flashed through my mind, as if I was watching a movie at double speed, Charlotte leant forward slightly,

  “Take your time, Carrie.”

  I smiled at her, grateful for being allowed a moment to try and describe how much meeting Vanessa had changed everything, at last, the words came, as Charlotte listened, I talked about how she had made me feel, it was far beyond pure sexual pleasure and, at first, I hadn’t been sure why. Almost without pausing, I found myself explaining how I had come to the conclusion, it was about how she made me feel about myself, that she somehow seemed to see something more than I had ever believed was there. Charlotte nodded slightly, as if she was internally processing every word I was saying, I was about to continue, when she leant forward,

  “ It sounds like you’re describing almost a loving relationship,” she said carefully, I knew she was looking intently at me, but I couldn’t meet her gaze, I suddenly felt ridiculously embarrassed,

  “Maybe,” I mumbled awkwardly, despite my unease, she asked if I had felt the same way about anyone else, without thinking, I blurted out Daniel’s name.

  When I heard myself say his name, I sat back, completely unable to explain where this idea had come from, could it be I loved Daniel?Charlotte noticed my struggle with this apparent revelation,

  “Did you have some kind of relationship with him before it became sexual?” she asked.

  “We were friends, good friends,” I replied hesitantly, “Thankfully we still are, even after everything that happened.”

  “You mean, when you ended the relationship?”

  “Yes,” I paused, still a mass of confusion, “But why would I end it, if I actually loved him?”

  “Do you think it’s possible you loved him as a friend? So ,in some way, you were concerned, you might lose that friendship if things were to go wrong between you, perhaps further down the road?”

  Once more, I paused, I thought back to the day by the river, she was right, at the time, I had been acutely aware of how much I did not want to be responsible for hurting him, which was evidence, if it was needed, I did love him, but there was more to it than that,

  “But what I had with Daniel wasn’t enough somehow,"I aloud, in the hope one of us would be able to answer.

  “Do you ever regret finishing the relationship?” Charlotte asked.

  “No,not really,” I answered firmly, “In saying that, there are moments when he does or says something incredibly kind and I think I was mad, but no, it was the right thing to do.”

  Charlotte shifted slightly in her seat, while I reached for the glass of water she had put on the table between us,
I took a long drink, hoping it would clear my head.

  “ In your writing,you mention, several times, how you feel you have come from a place where you felt almost nothing during sex, to now, where the feelings are so overwhelming, you feel out of control, in fact, violent, would that be a fair summation?”

  I nodded.

  “Clearly, you find this incredibly disturbing, do you have any idea why?”

  “Steve was violent and out of control, I don’t want to be like that,” I replied simply.

  "Carrie, I think we need to distinguish between violence within an abusive relationship and the kind of intense, passionate feelings you've been experiencing, they're not motivated by the same emotions," she paused, looking steadily at me and seemed relieved when I agreed with her.

  “So, in accepting that hypothesis , perhaps therefore, it would be reasonable to assume, that in some way, you found it easier when you felt nothing at all , maintained a strict control of yourself?” Charlotte continued, obviously choosing her words with extreme care, I found myself taken aback by this suggestion, for no other reason, than it had never occurred to me before.

  “I suppose so,”I answered weakly.

  She went on to explain most people like to feel they are in control of their lives and emotions, so, at times, when someone comes along who challenges us, we can find ourselves temporarily off balance, even unable to really cope, as she spoke, I found myself nodding, like one of those dogs people have on the back window of the car, while struggling to make sense of it all. In the end, I could contain my confusion no longer,

  “I don’t know Charlotte!”I blurted,“ I don’t know if I was happier feeling nothing, whether meeting Vanessa screwed me up completely, whether I loved Daniel or what it is about Jay that makes me lose control so much it frightens me, I just don’t know anything any more !”

  Charlotte was about to speak, but my rant wasn’t over,

  “I wish I could blame Steve, or Vanessa or Phil ,in fact, any of them,but I can’t,not really,it’s me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing or feeling, I don’t even know what I want most of the time and I hate it!”After those last few words, I collapsed back on the chair, I could feel my heart thumping against my chest, while my lungs seemed to be struggling to take in enough air, I glared wildly at Charlotte, hoping she would instantly be able to answer all my concerns, but instead she sat seemingly impassively, the very model of calm,

  “So, Doc, what’s the answer? ” I snapped, “Should we carry on or would it be easier just have me committed?”

  A slight smile crossed her lips,

  “I don’t think that will be necessary, you’re far from needing residential care, Carrie, I can assure you, I think we can work together to help find some kind of solution.”

  I looked at her with total incredulity, wondering whether, in some underhand way, she had provoked my outburst, when I put this to her, she assured me I was mistaken,

  “Carrie, you took the opportunity to say all of those things here, because you recognise this is a safe place to do so, it’s no more complicated than that,” she added reassuringly. I took another long drink of water, during which time, my heart seemed to return to somewhere near normal and breathing was no longer a problem.

  Charlotte glanced up at the mantle clock, then back at me,

  “Are you feeling better now?” she asked.

  “Yes, thank you, and I’m sorry for...”

  Charlotte raised her hand,

  “No need to apologise, the whole point of being here is to allow all those feelings out, so we can see them, now, as our time is almost over, there is one thing I should like you to think about over the next few days, would that be alright?”

  I nodded, curious to know what this week’s ‘homework’ might be.

  “You have mentioned this idea of wanting more quite often, I should like you to consider what you really mean by those words, for example, does it refer to love? Or maybe some kind of sexual need you’ve never truly satisfied? Or, indeed, something else completely, would that be possible?”

  “Of course, I will try,” I answered, still feeling slightly embarrassed by my outburst, Charlotte smiled her approval at my response, before standing and walking to the door. I picked my bag up from the floor, paused to shake her hand and left the room. After making another appointment, I stepped out into the world once more, unquestionably confused , but this was mixed with genuine relief I was trying to make sense of it all. While I walked along the wide avenue, I found myself looking up at the large houses, it dawned on me, how easy it was to believe you were the only person who had any kind of problem, yet there were, undoubtedly, people behind those windows who were trying to cope with all kinds of issues, be it relationships, or money or career, all struggling to find some answers, just like me. Selfishly, I found this realisation surprisingly comforting, after all, for a moment, back in Charlotte’s office, I thought I was seriously in danger of losing the plot completely, so the notion maybe I wasn’t the only one came as something of a relief.

  I was still imagining what lurid scandals might be brewing behind the facade of respectability, when my phone rang, as soon as I saw the now-familiar ‘unknown’ on the screen, my heart sank. I was just about to hit ‘end call’ when I had a change of heart, perhaps it would end this nonsense, if I actually answered and explained –forcefully- there had been no accident, so no compensation claim.

  “Good afternoon,”I snapped sternly.

  “Good afternoon, Ms Sullivan , how good of you to finally answer your phone,” replied the caller, the clipped English tone was instantly recognisable,

  “Marcella? Is that you? ” I asked.

  “Indeed it is, may I ask, is there some problem with your phone ? I have made repeated attempts to contact you, only to be thwarted at every turn,”she said briskly.

  “I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else, one of those firms attempting to coerce you into claiming something,” I explained weakly.

  “Be that as it may, I’ve been asked to arrange an appointment for you with Imelda,” she began, at first, the name meant nothing to me, which I was on the point of saying, until I suddenly remembered it had been the maid’s name at my hotel all those months ago,

  “Oh good, that would be wonderful,” I answered, still not entirely sure why we were going through this performance.

  “Shall we say Saturday? Imelda should be available,” Marcella continued, still adopting a distinctly business-like tone, “I will contact you again with the full details.”

  “I will wait to hear from you,” I replied.

  “Excellent, and one more thing, as I’m sure you are aware, one can never be too sure one is having an entirely private conversation when speaking on the phone, so do be careful, Ms Sullivan,” she insisted, before saying an almost curt goodbye. After putting my phone back in my bag, I started to walk again, within seconds, the reason for Marcella’s tone became glaringly obvious, there had recently been the whole investigation into phone hacking. How could I have been could have kicked myself for being so unbelievably stupid?

  No wonder she had been so off-hand, she was concerned others might be listening, once more, I felt the over-whelming urge to kick myself, especially as I had watched the story develop on the news.

  This temporary anger rapidly dissolved as I went over the conversation, suddenly it hit me, Saturday, she had said, which meant, in less than a week, I was going to see Vanessa again,

  “Oh my God!” I gasped. An elderly lady passing me, stopped and looked carefully at me,

  “Are you alright, lovey?” she asked.

  “Fine thanks, just had some news,” I replied, adding , “But thank you for your concern.”

  “My pleasure, dear,” she answered, before continuing on her way, I headed in the opposite direction, not wandering any more , but striding along, filled with excited anticipation.

  I was just opening my front door, when my phone rang again, dropping my bag to the floo
r, I hurriedly answered, without pausing to check caller ID,

  “Ms Sullivan?”

  “Yes, that’s me,” I chirped back.

  “My name is Nick and I’m calling about helping you claim for your recent accident..” he explained, normally, this kind of call filled me with completely irrational rage, but such was my mood, I cheerfully replied as I had not actually had an accident, I did feel it was probably fraudulent to try and claim any money. I had barely finished speaking, when ‘Nick’ thanked me for my time and said goodbye , I picked up my discarded bag and went inside.

  Later that evening, Laine called from Rome to say she would be coming home at the end of the following week ,

  “Damon’s going back to the U.S. to see his parents, so I thought I’d spend some time with you, before he arrives, I’ve got so much to tell you, Mum.”

  “I can’t wait to see you,” I replied, hardly being able to believe my day could possibly get any better, "oh and don't forget to bring your posh frock for Kat's hen weekend.”

  “Weekend?” Lainie laughed,“isn't it normally just a night out?”

  “Yes, but this is Kat,”I replied.

  “Fair enough, sorry Mum, got to go, I’m meeting Damon, I’ll see you next week, love you,”she called.

  “Love you more.”

  When I awoke the next morning, even the knowledge I was due to spend the day at work, did nothing to dampen my spirits. Once I was dressed, I glanced at the clock, I was unbelievably early, looking out of the window, there was a hint of sunshine, which was enough to make me decide to walk. I was almost there, when I heard a car horn beeping loudly, I looked across to see Daniel waving,

  “See you in there,” he called cheerfully, as the car sped past me towards the car park, his sudden appearance reminded me of my session with Charlotte, I quickly banished the thought from my mind, however wrong, the prospect of dwelling on my problems was completely unwelcome, as I was in such a good mood. I knew this was a mistake, after all, problems never just fade away because you refuse to acknowledge them, but, I reasoned, just for today, I could just enjoy the moment and worry about the rest, another day. The morning flew by with uncharacteristic speed, normally, I was used to the hours at my desk seeming to crawl along. A quick look out the window showed the sun had gained some strength during the morning, so I opted to grab a sandwich and sit outside, within moments of my sitting down, I heard someone call my name,