‘Yeah, they’re dark,’ says Dianne. ‘Like the real world. But kids don’t want to know about the real world. They prefer the fantasy.’
No delicious shivering there, Rose notes.
‘They’re cautionary tales made up to tell people how to live. How to watch out for danger. We’ve made fairy stories into lovely tales for children but, really, they’re warnings about how to be safe in a bloody terrifying world,’ Dianne says. ‘You don’t see they’re warnings until it’s too late.’
She stops abruptly, then asks: ‘Are we on our break?’
Rose decides to call it. This has been an interesting session.
‘Yes,’ she says.
Grazia’s cigarette is lit almost before she’s completely out of her chair and she’s sucking the nicotine into her lungs as if it’s pure oxygen.
‘But there’s one final thought I want to leave you with for the moment,’ Rose says, her voice as clear as any bell.
Everyone’s half out of their chairs, keen to move on, but Rose’s words stop them.
‘We sometimes accept behaviour at the start of a relationship even though it hurts us. And perhaps that actual behaviour becomes less important and sometimes it becomes more important with time.’
She stares at Grazia as she says it.
‘When we decide that we can no longer live with ourselves because something is affecting us so much, then we act – if our actions do not change things, if the other party still treats us with contempt or belittles our feelings, then the relationship is in serious trouble.’
Rose pauses and looks Bernard in the eye.
‘There are many things a good relationship can withstand, but contempt is not one of them. When one partner chooses contempt, the other may never recover from it. Contempt is a fatal wound, you see.
‘The session is over now. It would be useful for you all to make some notes on this.’
Then she sweeps off the terrace.
Grazia’s long legs carry her quickly into their suite and Bernard follows her.
But for once, she doesn’t wait for him. She lets the door slam in his face so that he has to fumble for his room card to get in.
His wife is at the minibar, reaching for some ice-cold lemonade.
‘What are you going to talk about next?’ he asks, his voice anxious.
Grazia cracks the lid off the bottle of lemonade, takes a deep draught and turns to her husband.
‘Why?’ she asks with an edge. ‘Are you worried?’
‘No, it’s just that some things are private. I don’t hold with this sort of therapy stuff, Grazia, you know I don’t. This Rose has no idea what our marriage is like. She knows nothing, she’s merely prodding us. I love you but—’
She interrupts him.
‘I love youbut,’ she snaps. ‘That’s what husbands always say. I am your wife, you could have made it clear to Viola and Stephen that I mattered. You chose not to do that.’
‘I couldn’t—’ he began.
‘You could. You chose not to. You let them insult me and then pretend it never happened. That is not love, Bernard. That was ignoring my feelings, not explaining to your children that I was a good person and that rudeness to me would not be tolerated. I always came second, after them, always. Rose is right – it is contempt.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Grazia,’ he says, and she turns away.
She has heard this so many times. She has had enough.
Bernard thought he’d placate her merely by coming to this retreat.
