‘She hates conflict,’ Jay broke in eventually.
‘We can only help you if you’re willing to talk, Olivia.’
‘Call me, Liv, please,’ I said.
‘Okay,Liv, are you avoiding the issue?’
‘I wouldn’t sayavoiding…’ I said, deliberately non-committal.
‘Jay has tried to talk to you but you refuse to open up to him. My role as your therapist is to provide a safe space for you both to discuss your problems but I won’t be able to help you unless you’re willing to trust and engage with me.’
We talked in much the same way for the rest of the hour until Julia checked her watch and realised the time was up. I said a silent thank you that this session at least was over.
‘Our time has come to an end for today but maybe you could use the week to really think about this, Oliv— I mean,Liv. Youseem like a really united couple which is great because not every couple who sit opposite me have the togetherness that I’m seeing with you two. Think about what I’ve said to you tonight; you need to be willing to open up. The more you put into it, the more you’ll get out of it. I’ll see you both at seven next week.’
We thanked her and got up to leave. Jay tapped his phone on her sum-up machine to pay her and then we left the room and went out to see another couple were waiting to go in. They were both sitting on chairs on opposite sides of the room, hunched over their phones. They were a good-looking couple, I thought. She was tall and slim. Long, lean limbs and a fine bone structure. Her fingers were studded with diamonds and, judging from the clothes that they both wore – him in a cashmere sweater, and suede leather driving shoes and she in an elegant silk shift dress – were very wealthy. The woman looked up then and our eyes met. She looked as embarrassed as I was – I could tell she didn’t want to be seen here either. It was almost like we were each exposing our deepest, darkest secret to one another.
‘Well, what did you think?’ Jay ventured as we drove through the city streets on our way home afterwards.
‘She seemed nice,’ I said, looking out the window at the broad-chested swans parading along the canal bank in the balmy August air.
He nodded. ‘She was. She really put me at ease.’
I turned to him. ‘Do we have to go back next week?’
‘Come on, love, it’s for the best.’ He reached across the gearstick and patted my leg. ‘We need to talk about it and you know we’re both useless at that stuff.’
‘But we’re good, you and me,’ I pleaded. ‘We don’t argue.’ In fact, if I thought about the marriages of people we knew, we were one of the strongest couples. I often heard my sister Linda talking about her husband and how much they fought with oneanother. They argued so much that it was a wonder they were still married. Me and Jay weren’t like that.
‘That’s the problem.’ He sighed. ‘I think we need somebody to help us.’
2
MAYA
Tuesday 8 p.m.
We took our seats on the plastic chairs in the waiting room. Neither of us spoke while we waited. I would check the time on my phone every now and then and feel increasingly anxious as the minutes got closer to 8p.m. Hugo was on his phone, fingers dancing across the screen. I could tell by the sighs he emitted and the way he constantly checked his watch that he didn’t want to be here. That he was too busy for this. I’m surprised he had even bothered to come.Well, guess what, Hugo, I don’t want to be here either but I can’t take it any more!
Finally, the door opened and my heart started to race as another couple left the therapy room. I quickly scanned their faces to see if I knew them and felt a flood of relief when I didn’t. They were both a little overweight, with soft, doughy features. At least it was nobody that we knew. The thought of people finding out that we’re going to marriage counselling kept me awake at night. The other couple walked out past us and headed for the stairs before a petite woman with beady eyes came into the waiting area and smiled. I recognised our therapist Julia fromher photo on the clinic’s website. I guessed, from the woman standing before me with greying hair around her temples and the noticeable sagging, pull of gravity on her face, that the photo had been taken at least ten years ago.
‘Come on in.’ She gestured towards her office.
I stood up but Hugo took his time as he finished keying in whatever it was that he was typing on his phone, without looking up. It infuriated me, like everything about him did these days. I waited for him to finish and when he finally slid the phone into his back pocket, we entered the room. I looked around at the place. Three chairs, which I recognised from IKEA, were set in a circle. Two were adjacent to one another and a third, which I guessed was Julia’s, was set at an angle to the other two. Colourful, woollen hangings were displayed on the walls. They looked like Julia had knit them herself. A spidery aloe vera plant sat on a table in the corner. Hugo and I sat down beside one another and waited… I felt like I was going to be sick. I had talked about this for so long and imagined how it might go but now that we were here, I felt panicked.
‘It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Julia.’ She moved to shake our hands. I was conscious that mine was clammy and I wiped it quickly on my dress first.
‘I’m Maya and this is Hugo,’ I said because he was making no effort. His body language said it all. He had more important things he could be doing. Hugo worked as a property developer. His company had taken on several large-scale office developments in Dublin city centre over the last few years and as a result, they had grown rapidly but as his workload had increased, we saw less and less of him at home.
‘Why don’t both of you sit down.’
We took our seats across from Julia.
‘I want to start off by saying that this is a safe space,’ she began. ‘Everything that is said in this room is entirelyconfidential and remains inside these walls. Now then,’ she clapped her hands together, ‘who would like to start off and tell me what brought you here today?’ she prompted with a smile that was supposed to be reassuring but had the opposite effect.
‘She did,’ Hugo quipped as he shot a look at me. Our eyes met and I swore I could see hatred in their depths.
I knew I would have to go first. My head was spinning and I couldn’t seem to pull my thoughts together to form a sentence. ‘Well, we have been married for almost seven years and… eh… we have a five-year-old son… Elliot is his name…’ I paused. ‘I guess we… eh… we haven’t been happy for a while.’
