by Hiba Basit
‘People think therapy is all about applying this technique and that. But therapy is also taking the time to sit down and listen to a child who’s struggling to find a voice. You always hear my voice and, for that, I’m grateful.’
‘Well, the need to be listened to isn’t limited to children.’ He wraps her in his arms and they start walking towards the shore. ‘In fact, I think you should cancel your trip just so that you can hear me purge my thoughts tonight.’ He nudges her with his hip and she nudges him back. She slips her hand around his neck and leans her head on his shoulder, feelings of extreme happiness and dull guilt weighing her down heavily.
David greets his parents with a small peck on each cheek. His brother, Oliver, is lying on the couch, eating cheese puffs and drinking a bottle of wine.
‘People usually start this early when it’s a negative occasion,’ David chides, walking towards him and taking a handful of cheese puffs. ‘Like a funeral!’
Oliver gets up and hugs his brother. ‘It is a negative occasion. You’re growing old!’
David rolls his eyes at him.
‘Don’t start, boys,’ their mother warns them.
‘Where’s Annie?’ Oliver asks, looking around as if she’s purposely hiding from him.
‘She had to go to New York.’
Hearing this, Oliver shakes his head. ‘Man, these conferences always come around this time!’
‘Poor Annie, doesn’t she ever stop working?’ his mother asks. ‘She’s hardly ever here on your birthday!’
‘Don’t worry,’ David reassures her, although he’s already missing his wife. ‘We’ll have dinner when she returns!’
‘Let’s move into the kitchen,’ his father suggests.
When David enters, he immediately halts at the entrance. The kitchen has been decorated with pictures of his family from his birth to when he got married. He walks around, running his fingers across the memories that have made him the man he is today. Tears sting his eyes as his fingers rest on his wedding day. Annette is set to cut the cake but her eyes are on him, twinkling and lighting her face up like an orb. He turns to his family.
‘It was Oliver’s idea,’ his mother says.
He looks at Oliver and smiles at him, sharing a moment of deep gratitude.
‘Let’s make a toast.’ His father raises his wine glass. David reaches for a glass. ‘My son, all I want to say is, you’re growing up so fast, I don’t need to wear my specs to see your wrinkles any more.’ Everyone starts laughing, even David.
‘Thanks, Dad!’
‘Come on, Wilfred,’ his mother admonishes. ‘Make a real toast!’
His dad smiles and a look of earnestness crosses his eyes. ‘From the day you were born, I said to your mum that you would make us both very proud. I wasn’t wrong, David. You and Oliver have become everything we thought you’d become. We offered our voices to you and then left it up to you to decide your path. You’ve blessed us with so much happiness. You have a beautiful wife and seeing both of you together and how much love you share, it comforts me to know you are safe and happy. I can’t wait for my grandchildren!’
‘Whoa! Slow down, Dad!’ David interjects.
‘To your future, filled with love, happiness and life. Happy Birthday, son!’
David smiles at his family, feeling a wave of gratitude and love for them all.
‘Thank you!’ he manages, tears pricking his eyes again.
‘Everyone, raise your glass!’ shouts Oliver and they all drink to his future.
Everyone raises their glass.
‘Happy Birthday, Tania!’
Annette smiles and takes a sip from her glass of white wine. She watches Tania, who is excitedly blowing out candles on her cake. As she does so, she glances at Annette and smiles a brief but happy smile. Someone snaps a photo from behind her and the moment is captured forever. Tania cuts three slices and hands the first two to her aunt and uncle. Then she walks towards Annette and hands her a fork.
‘Do you want to share?’
‘Sure.’
‘Was the flight all right?’
‘It was fine.’ Tania offers a spoonful of cake to her. Annette moves forward and takes a bite. ‘Vanilla, great choice!’
Tania grins. ‘I can’t believe I’m fifteen!’
‘Believe me, neither can I. You’re growing up too fast!’ She looks at Tania in her adult-sized pumps and corduroy pants. ‘Too fast,’ she echoes.
‘At least I’m finally old enough to audition for Ridling’s Got Talent!’
‘The music production at your school?’
‘Yes. And – I got in!’
‘That’s amazing!’ Annette rests her palm on her cheek and strokes it with her thumb.
‘Are you happy?’ Tania asks hopefully.
‘I’m delighted! I’ve never heard you sing before.’
She blushes. ‘Maybe when I perform on stage?’
Annette nudges her playfully. ‘Oh, don’t tell me you’re getting all shy on me,’ she teases.
Tania laughs. ‘Will you come and see me perform?’
‘When is that?’
‘Well, they’ve given us a week to practise. It’s insane. I’ve got so much to rehearse!’ Tania continues talking but Annette struggles to hear her. She waits for her to finish.
‘You know I won’t be able to make it. It’s too soon for me to fly out again,’ she says. Tania glances at her and then quickly looks away. ‘You understand, don’t you?’
‘No,’ Tania says after a while. ‘But I accept that’s how it is.’
Annette moves towards her. ‘I’m really sorry. You’re going to be amazing though. I can’t wait to see you on tape!’
‘Promise you’ll call the night before, to wish me good luck?’
‘Of course! If you want, someone can hold the phone on stage so that I can listen in.’
‘Yeah, guess that’s enough for now,’ she says, smiling weakly.
Annette pulls her close and kisses the top of her head. In the silence that follows, she takes in the minty smell of Tania’s hair and the vanilla sweetness from the cake.
‘Thanks for coming, Mum!’ Tania says, looking up at her.
Annette tightens her arms around her daughter. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Santana.’
Chapter Nine
Abigail dances energetically beneath the heat of the shower. The radio rests on the windowsill, blasting Jennifer Lopez’s hits to the passers-by down below. She lifts her gaze and starts to sing loudly, trying to dodge drinking the tepid water.
‘Oh, I wish, for so long, for someone to come and show me, lead by example. Oh, I’ve tried, I’m running out of patience... ooh I want to be somebody’s girl, would you show me the way,’ she shouts, more as an instruction than a question. She takes small steps in the shower as she dances, lifting her hands in small punches as if she’s preparing for a boxing match.
The door flings open in her enthusiasm. She is too lost in the musical moment to notice as clouds of steam fill the room. Eventually, she twists the shower knob off and climbs out. She wraps a towel around her, still jiggling her hips to the music. She catches her gaze in the mirror and snatches up her toothbrush. ‘I wanna be somebody’s girl!’ she yells, slipping into a low chant as she opens the bathroom door.
The music starts to fade into the background as she strolls towards the kitchen, unwinding the towel from her body and tossing it aside. Suddenly, she stops mid-step as she catches Felix lounging on the couch. His gaze has yet to land on her but for some brainless reason, she screams. Felix looks up from his paper and his eyes palpably widen. He looks like a rabbit caught in headlights. She stares at him in horror and then hurriedly scurries into her bedroom and slams the door behind her.
As Annette gets out of the car and enters St Anne’s, she tries to forget about how upset Santana was the day she had to leave. She takes her keys out and opens her office door, quickly hanging her coat up and signing into the system on her computer. Glanc
ing at the clock, she realises she’s running late by half an hour, even though all of her appointments were booked for the afternoon, for the very reason that she was to arrive back in Canberra at the crack of dawn.
She filters the pages of her diary with her fingertips, flicking away dates from the past, until she finally reaches today’s date. Her first session is with Alex, the one she’s late for. Mary must have popped in with Alex, noticed the door was locked and gone back. She grabs a bottle of water and starts to make her way to Alex’s room, but it’s empty when she arrives. She turns in the direction of the playroom. Quietness envelops her as she enters, a silence that feels uncanny in a play environment.
She finds Alex and Mathias in the corner of the room and Mary sitting with them. Annette is briefly shocked, but her shock turns into excitement as she realises Alex may have summoned up the courage to make a friend. Mary spots her from afar and walks towards her nervously.
‘Good to see her in the playroom,’ Annette immediately offers.
‘I’m afraid Mathias is the only one Alex plays with.’
‘Would you wait here whilst I go over?’
Alex is sitting with her back to the door but as Annette approaches, she instantly turns, sensing her presence. A look passes her face as she recognises Annette and she quickly moves away from Mathias, increasing their distance.
Annette casually takes a seat between them. ‘Hi, kids. What are you doing?’
Alex is silent and her earlier excitement withers. Still, Annette tries again. ‘What are you making? Is that a picture puzzle of a racoon?’ She picks up the cardboard lid of the puzzle. A group of animals chilling together in a safari park stare back at her. A giraffe stands proud and tall in the corner, a gorilla swings on a branch and a golden-feathered lion lies on its back in the middle, with all four legs raised high in defiance and its mouth open in an expansive roar.
Alex and Mathias have neatly arranged all of the puzzle pieces on the table, facing them the right way up. She notices that Alex is attempting the right hand side of the puzzle but the pieces do not connect and are miles apart. Mathias is completing the gorilla, the image of its face and half of its body emerging nicely.
‘What animal am I making?’ Mathias asks, as if reading her mind.
‘Could it be the gorilla?’ she answers.
He beams with pleasure. ‘Hey, you know what, you’re right!’
She smiles and turns her attention to Alex. ‘What are you making?’ she asks softly. Alex’s eyes fleetingly flicker over Annette, before catching the surface of the playroom again. Annette lifts the lid and focuses on the sign reading lion just above the animal itself. She points to it. ‘Why don’t you start by finding the puzzle pieces for the sign first? That way, it may be easier to find the surrounding pieces that make up the lion.’ Alex remains silent.
Annette starts searching for the letters and begins to join them up. She makes deliberate animated noises until Alex looks up and Annette detects a flash of curiosity in her eyes. ‘Would you like to find the next piece?’ she asks, hoping she sounds nonchalant. When Alex doesn’t reply, Annette picks out the next pieces of the lion and connects them together. As soon as the puzzle begins to form the shape of the lion’s head, Alex edges slightly forward to get a better look. Then, as Annette reaches for another piece, so does Alex, and their hands almost meet. Annette can feel the warmth from her skin and her hand hovers in its place, overpowered by the magnetic force between Alex’s fingers and her own. She inwardly smiles and connects the piece she reached for into the puzzle. Soon, she is sitting and watching as Alex continues the puzzle herself, giving her little clues when she looks to her for help.
As Alex locates the last piece of the lion, she tilts her head to scrutinise her finished work. She flattens the lion out with her palms, making sure all the pieces are lined in level with each other. Then, she turns her gaze to Annette and looks at her as if she didn’t realise she was there all along.
***
Jacob is miles away today. He enters the room, slips his shoes off and sits down on a chair. He begins to swing his legs back and forth. Annette grabs another chair and sits down opposite him without a word. He looks out of the window, straight past her.
Eventually, Annette follows his gaze. Outside, the trees stand tall, gently swaying from side to side. She looks past the trees at the buildings and watches as people enter and leave them. They look like ants from up here, manoeuvring around to avoid bumping into each other. Some people walk in a line, expecting others to give way, whereas others move from side to side, swirling and spinning around, as if they’re playing dodgeball. Annette turns back to Jacob and is surprised to see him looking at her with a big grin on his face.
Jacob watches Annette turn towards the window. He wonders if she is making up stories of how the trees are swaying like waving hands or how the people chattering outside sound so far away but are actually nearby.
He turns to his side, as his body is beginning to hurt from lying in one position for too long. The room is quiet. He can feel the silence as if it’s a shadow sitting next to him. He looks around the room and, once again, thinks how beautiful it is. He remembers the first time he walked inside. Expecting to see a white room with art paintings on the wall, toys and puzzles and paint boxes in every direction with two chairs in the corner, he was surprised when this was not the case.
He pulls his gaze away from Annette and makes a visual beeline for the picture board, noticing that it takes up most of the left side of the wall. It’s made out of metal, not like the wooden one he has at home for school work. He traces the gold leaf filigree outlining the board with his eyes, noting the multi-coloured stones pressed into the foliage.
His eyes move towards the photographs pinned to the board. There must be more than a thousand, he thinks in awe, all of them different shapes and sizes. Some are black and white, others in colour, and a few are drawings. He looks at pictures of kids smiling and laughing, one girl caught in the middle of a star jump, her arms above her head, her legs to the side, her hair flying above her head, shaped like a low wave. He looks at pictures of Annette holding the children in her arms, standing by their side and with their parents, shaking hands with a man who is handing her a certificate. The certificate is on the desk in the room. An empty coffee cup sits next to it. On the cup is written For Me. He stares at it for a while.
When he turns to Annette, she is still looking outside. He remembers what happened four months ago when his parents told him they were taking him to see a psychologist. He was furious; he wanted to run away that very second. It wasn’t the first time he’d had this thought, but it was the first time he’d packed his clothes in a bag and thrown some food into his jacket pocket. When he was about to open the door, his mother came into the room and found his bag packed with a pair of jeans and a shirt and his jacket pocket stashed with three sandwiches and a small bag of Maltesers. He was sent to see Annette the day after. He grins as he remembers his first session. He’d sat down without saying anything to her. He was determined to let her know he wasn’t stupid. But when Annette produced a large box of Maltesers from behind her desk and gave it to him, he didn’t know what to do. Eventually, he told her he didn’t want them.
‘But don’t you want to run away?’ she had asked. Puzzled, he kept his gaze on her. ‘If you want to run away, you’re going to need more than one bag of chocolate. Take this if you want.’ She pushed the box closer to him. Jacob uneasily got up from his seat.
‘You’ll let me run away?’ he’d asked, feeling excited and anxious all at once.
‘On one condition, if you can take this box with you, then yes. At least that way I’ll know you’re not going to starve.’ Jacob remembers bending down to lift the box of goods, summoning up all the strength he could muster. He tried pulling the box by its corners, holding it from the lid, pushing it to the door. It was too heavy. He turned to her, ready to accuse.
‘You made it heavy. You knew I wouldn’t be able t
o lift it. That’s cheating!’ he shouted angrily. She lifted her palms up, as if surrendering.
‘How could I have known how heavy to make it if I’ve never seen you before?’ He realised this was a good point.
‘You made it too heavy for a six-year-old,’ he said.
She laughed. ‘Well, a deal’s a deal. You couldn’t lift the box, which means I will be very worried if you run away now. Can we stop the running away for a while? Just until I find a way to make sure you’ll be safe when you do?’ She had smiled and thrown him a smaller bag of chocolates from the huge box. The next thing Jacob knew, he was eating away and chatting to her as if she was his friend. He smiles at the memory.
At this moment, Annette turns around and looks straight at him. He gapes at her, shocked for a moment, unable to take the smile off his face. Eventually, he looks away and pulls the smile into a frown. He starts to feel hot. She is looking at him; he can feel her eyes on him. The desire to talk to her fades. He closes his eyes, tears building up inside, and silently rebukes himself. When he lifts his eyes open, the tears run down his face. Annette looks at him but also past him, as if she is distracted by something behind him. He knows she is doing this on purpose, for his sake, and he swallows the urge to run away again.
‘Annette,’ he cries. His chest feels heavy and he pushes his back further into the chair. ‘Can I leave now?’ He waits, expecting her to come forward and take him out, but she remains still. His vision starts to blur with tears and his shirt sticks to his skin.
‘I want to tell you what’s wrong with me but I can’t. Please, may I leave?’ he asks, trying his best to maintain a stiff upper lip.
She uncrosses her legs and leans on her knees using her elbows. ‘Jacob, there’s nothing wrong with you. We’re all different, there’s nothing wrong with being different.’
He gets up and appears to waver. Then, he walks over and leans against her, desperate to seek some comfort. Touched by the rare display of affection from him, she pulls him onto her lap and folds him into her arms. Sometimes, she thinks, even children who come from a secure and nurturing background need that extra time and attention to find their confidence.
