‘I have feelings for him.’ She felt a huge wave of release just saying the words.
She waited for Olga to say something, but when the therapist remained quiet, Diana knew that she had fallen into a trap. A silent confessional booth, where once you had entered, you were expected to admit everything.
‘We had sex.’
She knew what Olga Shapiro was thinking. I told you to go fly a kite with a friend, you silly woman, not jump into bed with your brother-in-law.
‘How did it happen?’ she asked.
Diana wanted to tell her everything, as if she was single and carefree and gossiping with friends or some glamorous character on Sex and the City. She wanted to tell her about the rooftop in Brooklyn. How beautiful and sexy he made her feel. How she finally understood what all the fuss about orgasms was about. How she had stopped feeling sad and lonely.
‘We met up in New York and it was wonderful,’ she said simply. She glanced up, expecting another smile of encouragement. Instead, Olga Shapiro’s face had a stern, disapproving blankness.
‘You and your brother-in-law are joined in grief. You have experienced loss and you each represent Julian to one another. You have an emotional attachment and sometimes that can spill over into a temporary physical connection.’
Diana frowned. ‘I don’t think you understand. I didn’t think it was Julian that night. I didn’t want it to be Julian. I felt like a woman again. It felt like a fresh start. I felt reborn. As if I could carry on living.’ She could feel herself gushing, but it was impossible to hold back her emotions. She wanted to defend their night together, defend her relationship with Adam.
Olga appeared unmoved. ‘Loss creates a need for affection. You miss a sex life. You miss the support of someone who cares for you. Your brother-in-law has stepped into that role . . .’
Diana could feel her eyes narrowing. The woman didn’t understand. Sex had never been important to Diana. It was something that she associated with failure – she didn’t need a therapist to tell her that. She could remember very little about Charlie’s father; she couldn’t even picture his face, beyond a vague recollection that he had been cool and good-looking. They had met in a club in Ibiza and had sex on a little fisherman’s boat that had been moored in the harbour. She had been drunk and high on vodka cocktails, a couple of Ecstasy tablets and a holiday recklessness that made girls like her do things they shouldn’t. He was going home the next day, so they hadn’t even exchanged numbers. That was what he had told her anyway, but maybe she hadn’t been a good enough screw. Failure.
She had always had irregular periods and didn’t realise she was pregnant until she was almost three months in. She had made an appointment at the abortion clinic, the date in her diary there like a big scary full-stop, but before she went, she had spoken to a girl who’d terminated her pregnancy a few weeks earlier. The girl had talked about the searing cramps, the clotting and bleeding afterwards, and when she had described what a baby looked like at eleven weeks, Diana hadn’t been able to go through with it. Of course she was glad of that decision now. Charlie was the most precious thing in her life.
After Charlie had been born, after she moved to London, she had avoided sexual relationships because of the fear of where they might lead. Men thought she was frigid and casual boyfriends gave up on her before it became anything more serious; no matter how beautiful they thought she was, she wasn’t worth the effort. Until she met Julian. Julian changed everything. She went on the pill a week after they started dating. They made love in hotels, in deluxe villas, under the stars. They made love everywhere, and this time she wasn’t scared where it all might lead. She was aware that she was not a practised lover, and this was often a source of much concern. She had no real idea whether what they were doing in their sex life was too much, or not enough. Was she being slutty allowing him to do certain things to her, or was it all too vanilla?
She had got her answer soon enough when she had found out that Julian was unfaithful. It had been easy to blame it on herself, easy to believe that she simply hadn’t satisfied him sexually. And the existence of Madison Kopek had only reinforced that sense of failure. But that night in New York Adam Denver had made her feel anything but a failure.
‘Have you spoken to your brother-in-law about your feelings?’ asked Olga.
‘Not yet.’
‘Then you should. Perhaps you should encourage him to speak to someone in the way that we are talking,’ said Olga efficiently.
Diana almost laughed out loud. Adam was the least likely person to seek solace in a shrink’s chair.
‘When someone leaves us, dies, it can feel like a betrayal,’ continued Olga. ‘Sexual contact with your brother-in-law is a way of compensating for your loss.’
‘Why does this all have to be about Julian?’ said Diana, feeling her temper fray. ‘Why can’t it be about two people who like each other? I know the circumstances aren’t ideal, but this man feels right for me.’
Olga Shapiro twisted her silver pen between her fingertips.
‘I am not here to tell you who is the right man for you. I’m not here to tell you when is the right time to start dating again. What I can say is that your brother-in-law might feel like a safe option right now, but what has happened between you two might not be helpful. It’s not going to heal your pain.’
Diana fought the urge to shake her head. There was nothing safe about Adam Denver. He was exciting, unpredictable and she knew what people would say if word of their romance got out. But she couldn’t help the way she felt about him or the way he made her feel.
‘So what are you saying?’ she asked, feeling tears well. She had come to see Olga Shapiro to find answers, get solutions. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted from therapy? She wanted Olga to approve of her relationship with Adam. After all, it had been the therapist’s suggestion to seek out the people that made her happy; it was why she had gone to Dorset that day with him. It was why they had flown a kite.
‘I am saying that when people are at difficult points in their life, it doesn’t help to add more issues, more problems, more challenges . . .’
‘Adam isn’t an issue,’ said Diana, more sharply than she’d anticipated. ‘I didn’t choose for this to happen. I didn’t want it to. But I care about him and I think he cares for me. I think we make each other happy and how can that be a bad thing? Can’t you see we make each other happy?’
Her pale hands were trembling and she couldn’t stay in this claustrophobic room a second longer.
‘I should go,’ she said quickly.
‘We need to talk this through, Diana.’ Olga’s voice was firm and commanding, but Diana had already blocked it out and left the room.
40