‘Will you see a professional about this? Get counselling? I wish I could do everything to help you through this, but I really feel you need some proper therapy. You can’t go on living with this enormous burden.’
‘See a shrink? God, I can just see Father’s face if he heard about that. “We don’t need bloody head doctors in this family.” Wanker.’
‘There, it would be sweet revenge. Take it.’
‘Darling, I can’t afford it.’
‘But I can. I’ll pay. And mum knows lots of great psychotherapists.’
‘Your mum? Will it involve primal screaming?’
I laughed, grateful for the momentary relief in this emotional landscape of huge forbidding icebergs and stormy seas.
‘No, I promise. She’s suffered from depression all her life – she knows all the best counsellors.’
‘Really? I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’
‘No, she keeps going, any which way she can. But it’s been hard at times.’
‘For you, it must have been. Growing up, I mean.’
I shrugged.
&
nbsp; ‘I dunno, it was normal. And she always made it clear that I was loved and tried her best for me. I think I was luckier than you in that way.’
‘You were poor and loved. I was rich and … not. So when we met, perhaps it was fated.’ He needed tissues. I passed him the box from my side of the bed.
‘So what did happen, then?’ I asked him. The sixty-million-dollar question. ‘With us? Nine years ago? I went home after the most intense ten weeks of my life and never saw you again. You dropped me so completely it was as if I ceased to exist for you.’
‘I did love you, Lulu, I really did. But I wasn’t good at love, especially when fear hung over it like a shadow. When Father and Mother came home from their trip … well. I was scared. I couldn’t see you again.’
‘What did you think they’d do?’
‘I know it paints me in a bad light. A stupid scaredy-cat, letting his parents dictate his life, even as an adult. I was weak and unmanly, I know. But it hurt me like fire to let you go. I thought I was doing it for the best.’
‘The best?’
‘Father would never have it. He’d have disinherited me – he threatened it enough. I’d have been cut off, “without a shilling”, as they used to say. Looking back, I should have let him do his worst – I’d probably have found some way of making a living. But, back then, I didn’t think I’d be able to make it on my own in the world. I felt so hollow and inadequate as a person. Well, I still do, if I’m honest.’
‘It’s what you were told, over and over, but it’s not true. You’ll realise, once you’ve been in therapy for a while. You’ve been strong to make it this far without cracking.’
‘Well, the cracks are starting to show, don’t you think? Whisky for breakfast and all that.’
‘You can’t keep it all inside for ever, Joss. Nobody could. Doesn’t it feel like a weight off your shoulders, talking about it at last?’
‘I suppose it does, in a way. I’m still afraid you’ll get up and walk out on me.’
‘Never mind me. Whatever happens, I’ll always be your friend. I want you to be happy and to get past all this, so you can live.’
He laid his forehead against mine, his dark eyes shadowing my vision.
‘I don’t want you as a friend,’ he said. ‘It’s selfish of me, but I want much more than that.’
I didn’t know what to say. So do I was the natural response, but I wondered if I should be wary of committing myself before Joss had the chance to get professional help. I didn’t want to complicate things for him when he had so much emotional work to do already. But I did want to be there for him, more than anything.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I promised. ‘Let’s just let things take their course, shall we?’