‘I didn’t let you notice.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ Sonny asked. ‘You used to be honest with me once, didn’t you? At the beginning of our marriage, I loved how vulnerable you were with me. Remember that time you split your pants at the theatre but you still wanted to go to drinks afterwards so I spent the whole night standing right behind you so no one would see your bottom?’
‘You were very unreliable,’ Tully said. ‘Every two seconds I felt a breeze and turned around and you were gone.’
‘And remember right after we were married when you dyed your own hair and it turned orange?’
‘There was nothing funny about that,’ Tully said, appalled. ‘I had to wait two weeks for an appointment to get it fixed!’
‘And during that time, whenever you left the house you wore a woollen hat with all your hair tucked underneath it, which made you look like a homeless bald lunatic! But you insisted it was better than orange hair.’
‘The hat was a fashion statement,’ Tully muttered.
‘One of the things I love about you is how kooky you are. Or at least you used to be. But I’ve seen it less and less. Since we had the boys, it’s been all routines and schedules. You seemed like you had everything under control – always talking about your “game face” and “no chinks in the armour”。 But I guess I missed the fact that you didn’t have it all under control. You’ve been handling all this stuff by yourself. No wonder you needed to find ways to cope.’
‘Thank you for saying that,’ Tully said. ‘It means a lot.’
For a moment they were silent.
‘Look at us, sitting here on the floor!’ Sonny said, with a sad laugh.
‘I kind of like it,’ Tully said. ‘It reminds me of when we were starting out and we didn’t have so much to lose.’
‘I guess we’ve come full circle,’ Sonny said.
Tully shook her head. ‘Actually, now I have everything to lose. You. The boys.’
‘You’re not going to lose us,’ Sonny said.
‘I always thought I came from this ideal family. Mum and Dad and Rachel, I mean. I prided myself on it. Now I can’t think of a more dysfunctional one.’
‘There can be pride in dysfunction, Tully,’ Sonny said. ‘If anyone can find pride in dysfunction, it’s you.’
‘But what if it’s more than dysfunction? What if Rachel’s right and Dad was abusing Mum? What if he’s abusing Heather now?’
‘If that’s the case,’ Sonny said, ‘then that’s the next challenge we’ll confront. But you can drop your game face now. I don’t want to see your game face again.’
‘What about chinks in the armour?’ Tully said.
Sonny smiled. ‘The chinks are my favourite thing about you, Tully. From now on,’ he said, ‘I want to see every last one.’
54
HEATHER
Heather had seen Mary twice since she’d come to visit that day – not as a counsellor, but as a friend. It felt so good to be able to talk, really talk. It was during one of those conversations, which Mary had said she would keep completely confidential, that Heather confessed the reality of her childhood. Mary had taken it surprisingly well. She didn’t seem disgusted. Not even particularly shocked. And Heather was starting to realise how much she was projecting her expectations of a violent, destructive relationship onto a healthy one.
‘We are all products of what we experienced as children,’ Mary had said. ‘Our childhood helps form the way we view things. Certainly, if you experience trauma as a child, it can lead you to believe that trauma is life, and that you will never be, and indeed don’t deserve to be, safe from it, even in your own home. But in your case, you are safe from it, Heather. It’s those childhood demons that you aren’t safe from. You need to address them.’
And so that was exactly what Heather was doing.
Heather’s psychologist was a very beautiful, very well-dressed woman in her mid-fifties. She had the faintest trace of a Russian accent, and a matching difficult-to-pronounce name starting with an H. ‘Everyone calls me Inna,’ she said. ‘You’re welcome to do the same.’
‘Thank you,’ Heather said. ‘You can call me Heather.’
‘I’ve read the notes that you provided before you came in today. You had an extremely traumatic childhood, Heather. It’s amazing you are coping as well as you are.’
Heather smiled shyly. ‘I wouldn’t say I’m coping all that well.’