‘Did you enjoy what you did with the money?’
Suspiciously, she watched me through watery eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The bet you placed, you enjoyed it?’ Gently, I said, ‘It’s not a trick question, Trassa.’
‘I did.’ Almost apologetically, she said, ‘There’s nothing in the whole earthly world like it. When the longing comes on me, I get filled up with … it feels like sparkles, shiny things. Life feels like a Christmas tree.’ Even remembering the emotion was making her smile. ‘You know on a Saturday night, when your daddy and the lads are gone drinking and it’s just you and your mam at home. She’s got sweets for the two of you and you watch a film together on the telly? That’s the feeling. It makes me happy.’
She broke down in fresh sobs. ‘I miss my mother. I miss her so much.’
Half the room had lumps in their throats or tears in their eyes, myself included.
‘Since she went,’ Trassa gasped, ‘since she left us, I haven’t ever felt safe. She was the only person I ever felt all right with. Now I’m always on my guard.’
‘What age were you when she died?’
‘Thirteen.’
‘And when you got married?’
‘Seventeen. I went from one lot of men to another.’
‘Your first child – Michael – was born when, exactly? How soon after you got married?’
After a short hesitation she said, ‘Four months.’
‘Trassa?’ I tried to sound light. ‘Is there any reason you didn’t name your first son Seamus Junior?’
Every one of my cells was on high alert, desperate to read Trassa’s cues. This was her gig. If she wanted, we would shut this down immediately. Or we could save it for a one-to-one. But we couldn’t magic it away.
‘Seamus Junior is your second son?’ I asked. ‘Named for your husband, Seamus Senior?’
She nodded.
Our eyes were locked in an intense exchange of trust and responsibility.
‘Trassa.’ My voice was almost a whisper. ‘Who is Michael?’
After a long, long silence, in which the world held its breath, she said, ‘My father.’
Immediately I stood and ended the session. Subdued and silent, the other six trooped out, while Trassa and I went to a private room.
‘I was showing at two and a half months. I made sure everyone could see. I was walking around the town, this great … big …’ Trassa stuttered out the words. ‘… cry for notice. I’m sure everyone knew – there were no secrets, there still aren’t, but nothing was said.’
‘While she was alive your mother protected you?’
‘He terrorized her too but she did what she could. After she died, it was a free-for-all.’
‘Does your husband know?’
‘He never said a word. But if I gave the child my father’s name, I hoped he might … Because he knows I hated the man. But, no. And nobody ever asked me. Not one. Until you.’
‘Were there no women in your life? A teacher? Aunts? Friends?’
‘My teachers were nuns. I tried telling the girls at school, but … it’s hard to describe. It was no good because nothing could be done. Going to the guards? I’d have got the blame.
‘I was a girl of seventeen, no boyfriend. I was around the town, not hiding that I was expecting, hoping that someone would … All that happened was my father and Seamus’s father cooked up a scheme – Seamus Higgins, with the asthma and the weak heart, married the stupid slut in the family way. But it could have been worse,’ she said. ‘Seamus is decent. But sick, always sick.’
I nodded, afraid to say anything, in case I got it wrong.
‘Rachel, though!’ Trassa’s tone had lifted. ‘Now that we know what my “root cause” is, can I go back to the scratch cards?’
My heart sank. ‘Oh Trassa. I’m so sorry for what you went through. And we’ll do everything to find the specialized help you need and deserve. But you’re still an addict, nothing can change that. After what you went through, it’s understandable that you’d seek escape. But I’m sorry, Trassa.’
‘You mean, after all I’ve told you, I still have to stop?’
‘You know you have to.’
She stared at me, stared and stared. And then she bawled.
37
This probably wasn’t the best night to be meeting Luke. Even though I’d been given the tools to protect myself from my poor patients’ pain, how could you not be affected by Trassa’s ordeal?