Page 93 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

‘This is lovely, Jo,’ she said, staring out of the window. ‘What a view.’

The view was admittedly beautiful. Jo had stopped noticing it now, but when she’d first moved here, she’d often gazed out of the window at the town below and the higgledy-piggledy streets criss-crossing the opposite hillside.

‘Tea? Coffee?’ said Jo. ‘Or wine. I think I’ve a bottle of red lurking at the back of the cupboard.’

‘Lurking red,’ said Kate. ‘My favourite vintage.’

Jo went into the tiny kitchen, poured the wine, took a large glug of her own for Dutch courage, before topping her glass up and going back into the lounge where Kate was now reclining on the stained sofa.

‘Cheers,’ she said, handing Kate the glass and sitting down beside her.

Kate took a sip then placed her glass down on the floor. ‘Better not have too much of that. I need to keep a clear head. In your text, you said you needed my advice.’

‘Yes, I do,’ said Jo. She took another large glug of wine and placed her own glass down. ‘Oh, Kate, I don’t know where to start.’

She poured it all out. How she’d been teased – no, bullied – at school. Relentless name-calling. People hiding her stuff.

‘It probably sounds trivial,’ said Jo, ‘but it didn’t feel trivial.’

‘It doesn’t sound trivial,’ said Kate. ‘Children have taken their own lives because of school bullying. And these days – with social media – it’s worse than ever.’

‘It stopped when I met Gemma. Well, it got better. But it still happens to me now. And I’m an adult. You know my Scrabble TV programme idea? I left it on the printer and Leona must have found it. She pitched it at our team meeting as if it was her idea. David didn’t believe me when I told him. He says I’ve got a downer on her. But it’s the other way round – since she joined the team, I don’t get invited out for lunch or drinks after work. She’s dumped her workload on me. She gossips about me behind my back. Laughs at me.’

‘She’s a bully, Jo.’

‘I know. But why is it always me who gets bullied? What is it about me? And then my marriage, Kate. He stopped me seeing Gemma and my other friends – I actually had a few by then. I had to dress the way he liked, wear my hair how he liked it.’

‘He sounds dreadful,’ said Kate. ‘Controlling.’

‘He watched everything I ate. Said I only had to look at a chocolate éclair or a fish ‘n’ chip shop to put on six pounds. I know you like salad, but I hate it, yet he made me eat mountains of the stuff.’

Kate leaned over and took Jo’s hand. ‘It sounds like coercive control. You could report him for that.’

‘Report him?’

‘To the police.’

‘I don’t think so. It would be my word against his. And they wouldn’t believe me, that’s for sure. Like David – he didn’t believe me about the Scrabble programme being my idea. Gemma sent me this article about overcoming adult bullying, but it’s useless. It says it’s about them, not me.’

Kate nodded. ‘I’d agree with that…’

‘But how can it be, Kate? Because I’m the common denominator here. I’m the one that people pick on. It must be something that I do, something about me, that makes them all do that. Like the weak animal in the pack that all the others turn on. The hen that all the other hens peck.’

‘Show me Gemma’s article.’

Jo wiped a tear from her cheek and pulled out her phone. She held it out to Kate and waited as Kate read, biting her lip and worrying at a hangnail on her thumb. ‘What do you think?’

‘Hang on,’ said Kate. ‘I haven’t read it all yet.’

A couple of minutes later, Kate put the phone down. ‘It’s a good article. I think we need to put some of those things into practice. “Avoid situations where the bullying happens”.’

‘My workplace? I can’t avoid that.’

‘Perhaps not, but you could avoid being alone with Leona. And maybe even look for another job.’

‘I’m not going to let her drive me away.’

Kate leaned over and took Jo’s hand. ‘Fighting spirit. I like that. Keep a record of the stuff Leona says and does. A written record, with dates and times.’