“Right back at you with all of that,” Daisy said, a small smile forming as she turned to her.
“God I’ve missed you, you idiot,” Clara blurted out, pulling Daisy close and squeezing her the way she always used to.“It is so hard not knowing every little detail of your life. And I’m sorry about Zack, but maybe it’s for the best? In fact...” Clara reached into her back pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to her.
Carol Dickens
BACP Therapist–Trauma Specialist
www.caroldickenstherapy.com
“Maybe it’s time you focus on you, a bit? She’s around the corner from the office. I stopped by there weeks ago, when we weren’t talking. I just think you have to see someone else, Daise. Even just to understand if your feelings were real. Or to keep working through your family dynamic with someone else. Everything else can wait.”
“Thank you,” Daisy said, putting it in her own back pocket. “But why are you saying sorry about Zack?”
Clara pointed to Daisy’s phone. “Because he’s... left? I mean, I heard—”
“Oh no, that was Dan. He’s coming home,” Daisy said, a fresh rush of adrenaline filling her body as she remembered.
“Ah.” Clara glanced away to the door and back again. “So the wedding...?”
Daisy thought of Tom and the feeling of his hand in hers. The feeling of him quickly letting go the second Sophie appeared beside them. The photo of herself and Zack on her phone.
“Very much still on,” Daisy said.
“Right,” Clara said, closing her eyes for a second. “Good news about Dan.”
“The best! And... Leisha?”
“She’s booked her flight,” Clara said, her own eyes lighting up. “She lands the morning of your wedding, so I guess... we’ll be there.”
“That’s great,” Daisy said, her voice sounding as dull as Clara’s did at the mention of the wedding.
By the time Daisy let herself back into her flat after work, she didn’t have the energy for anything except throwing herself down on the sofa. She briefly thought about picking upOrlandoand then remembered there was no need for it and her body fell even heavier into the cushions beneath her. Just like that, that chapter of her life was closed. No more detective work. No more planning on the bus. No more Tom. It was getting silly anyway with all the late nights out and hiding things from Zack. Daisy didn’t recognize that version of herself, and there was a reason for that. It’s because it wasn’t who she was. As much as she wanted to be, she wasn’t the person who stared back at her from the wall of the exhibition yesterday, alive and happy, filled with light. Somehow Tom had made her believe that version of herself was possible, and that was actually the most embarrassing thing of all. Again, she silently thanked Sophie for stopping something she hadn’t even wanted to start.
“Anyone home?” Zack shouted when he’d closed the front door behind him.
Daisy cleared her throat. “In here,” she forced out, pulling herself up with as much energy as she could muster, listening as, like always, he removed his shoes with the shoehorn and placed them on the rack before walking with gentle footsteps toward her.
“Hey,” he said, his face filling with warmth as he took her in. “There she is. There’s the Daisy I know and love. It’s unusual to find you at home these days.”
“I know,” Daisy said. “I’m sorry. It won’t be anymore. I’m tired of being busy.” Tired of life was probably more accurate but it would require too much in the way of an explanation and she didn’t have that in her. Not after everything that had happened.
“Good,” he said. “It isn’t good for you. You need more of a quiet life after everything you’ve been through.”
Daisy’s chest tightened.
“It’s that Clara. She’s a bit of a bad influence on you, I think. Nights out. Expensive lunches.”
Daisy, until only recently angry at Clara herself, jumped to her defense. “It isn’t her. She just supports me.”
“And I don’t?” he bristled, shoulders rounding.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Okay, sorry. Tiring day.” He leaned down to kiss her on the lips, resting there for a moment, his focus slowly shifting to the side of her. “What’s this?” Zack picked something up, holding it in the palm of his hand so Daisy couldn’t make out what it was. She pulled herself further up, but still he was standing over her.
“Carol Dickens. Why have you got this?” he spun the business card Clara had given Daisy around, showing it to her. “A trauma specialist? That’s what I am. You’ve got me permanently! For free rather than the extortionate rates she probably charges. I’ve always been here for you, you just haven’t been around.” He leaned toward her and instinctively she flinched. She tried to still herself before he noticed, but he frowned, leaning back. “What was that? I wasn’t going to hurt you. I would never.” His brow furrowed, eyes watery as he looked down and away from her.
Daisy’s head started to spin. “I know. I’m sorry.”
