Die of Shame (23 page)

‘Well, I think it’s fairly obvious that at least one of us hasn’t had the best of weeks.’

Tony’s remark does not succeed in lightening the mood as he had been hoping. Before the start of the session, there had been a great deal of concern expressed at the injuries to Chris’s face, and even though he had clearly not wanted to talk about it, certain members of the group had continued to press him. While Robin and Diana had stayed uncharacteristically silent, Heather and Caroline had insisted that – whatever the circumstances – he had been the victim of a vicious assault and at the very least, he should go to the police.

‘I’ll go with you, if you want some support,’ Heather had said.

‘Me too.’ Caroline had nodded across the room to where Robin and Diana were standing together, drinking tea. ‘Or maybe Robin would. You know, because he’s a professional.’

Now, Tony looks at Chris. Like everyone else in the group, he has focused his attention on the extra chair that has been brought in. The circle has been opened out and, though each member of the group is still in the same position relative to everyone else, they are now seated in a wide semicircle with Tony and Chris in the middle, each with a view of the single chair that is, as yet, unoccupied.

‘I want to concentrate on the “here and now” this week,’ Tony says. ‘I think there’s been some misunderstanding as to how this principle operates within the group, so I want to try and move things on a little.’ He looks around. Eyes are still fixed on the chair. ‘We’ve been working on the basis that what happens in the group is more important than what has happened to any individual in their past or what is happening to them now. Everyone needs to focus on their immediate feelings inside the circle. Their feelings towards the other members of the group and towards me.’ He leaves another pause. ‘With a few exceptions, we’ve been doing this pretty well, but now it’s time to move on to what people like me rather grandly call the “illumination of process”. OK?’ Another glance from face to face. ‘We need to honestly and openly examine ourselves and how we interact with one another. That way, we perform a self-reflective loop, and it’s only then that we can really understand what these feelings are telling us.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Caroline says. ‘All sounds a bit complicated.’

‘Well, I’m sorry if I’ve made it sound that way, because it really isn’t.’ Tony nods towards the chair. ‘We’re going to start with a simple hot-seating exercise.’ He looks to his right. ‘I think you’ve done this before, Robin.’

Robin nods.

‘And you, Heather?’

Heather says, ‘Once,’ as though that was one time too many, but produces a smile when Tony catches her eye.

‘How does it work?’ Caroline asks.

‘It’s probably easier if we just plunge in and find out,’ Tony says. ‘Robin, would you mind kicking things off?’

Robin gets up, walks across to the empty seat and sits down.

‘Usual rules apply,’ Tony says. ‘No dirty fighting and no interrogation. If someone says something that upsets you, we need to talk about why you’re upset and not waste time scoring points or playing tit-for-tat. Everyone OK with this?’

Nobody says that they aren’t.

Tony leaves a few seconds, turns to a fresh page in his notebook, then says, ‘Robin, I wonder if you can remember the last time you lost your temper. At work, perhaps, or with a family member.’

Robin nods, thinks about it. ‘Well… I try not to lose my temper, but last week there was an altercation with one of my colleagues.’

‘Which made you angry.’

‘Yes.’

‘OK. Now, if someone in the group were to make you feel like that, who is it most likely to be?’

Robin does not hesitate. ‘Chris.’

Chris is staring at the floor. He nods, unsurprised.

‘Why does Chris in particular make you angry?’

‘Just the way he is. The things he does.’

‘He pushes your buttons.’

‘It’s all fake,’ Robin says. ‘The tiresome jokes and the sex stuff. The confidence.’

‘You think it’s a lie?’

‘Sometimes, yes. A lot of the time.’

‘And you don’t like liars.’

‘No.’ Robin swallows and crosses his legs. ‘I don’t.’

‘We can all remember your story about what happened when you were a child.’ Tony looks to the others; inviting their participation. ‘I’m wondering if your feelings towards Chris, towards anyone you perceive to be untrustworthy in some way, are connected to the lie you told back then. To the fact that it’s the lie that you are most ashamed of.’

Robin says nothing, so Tony turns to Chris.

‘Chris, how do you feel about Robin saying he thinks you’re a liar?’

‘I don’t feel anything,’ Chris says. ‘I don’t really care.’

‘If you did care, if you maybe start to care when you get home tonight, what might the things Robin said make you feel?’

‘I’d probably just feel like laughing,’ Chris says. ‘At all the rubbish coming out of his mouth. Yeah, I lie, but so does everyone else. So does he.’

‘People lie hundreds of times a day,’ Caroline says. ‘I read it somewhere. Literally, hundreds.’

Tony looks at Robin. ‘You said that you try not to lose your temper. I’m wondering if it’s the loss of control that you’re frightened of.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because it’s… ugly.’

Tony waits.

‘Because I spent such a long time completely out of control, when I was using, and I never want to go back there. Exercising a degree of self-control is something I take great pride in.’

‘Hasn’t everyone in this circle been out of control at some point?’

‘Big time,’ Caroline says.

‘Maybe that’s why it’s so important,’ Robin says. ‘Why I don’t trust people without it.’

‘Trust is important to you,’ Tony says.

‘Very.’

‘Which member of the group would you say you trusted the most?’

‘Diana,’ Robin says.

Diana says, ‘Thank you,’ but Tony raises a finger. At this moment, he senses that conflict will be of rather more use therapeutically than backslapping.

‘And who do you trust the least?’

Robin looks down for a few seconds and shifts in the chair. Then he says, ‘Heather.’

‘I think I’m close to everyone,’ Caroline says. ‘In different ways.’

‘If you had to choose one member of the group you felt closest to
now
,’ Tony says, ‘who would that be?’

‘Probably, Robin.’

‘OK…’

‘You know, the whole father-figure thing.’ Caroline laughs. ‘Sorry, Robin.’

‘Do you find yourself looking for a father figure in other situations?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Is your father still alive?’

‘No, he isn’t.’

‘You were close to him, though.’

‘Course.’

‘And you feel as though Robin’s a father figure to the whole group?’

‘Well, probably not to Chris.’

Diana stifles a snort. Chris is leaning back, his legs stretched out in front of him. He acknowledges the namecheck with a nod, as if he feels rather proud of the recognition.

‘Do you think Robin is the person in the group who would influence you the most?’

Caroline cocks her head, thinking about it. She seems quite comfortable at being asked the questions; enjoying the process. The smile has not left her face. ‘Not necessarily,’ she says. ‘I think I probably looked up to Heather at the beginning.’

‘Not any more?’

‘No, I don’t mean that. She was really nice when I first started coming, that’s all. She told me she thought I’d fit in.’

‘Do you think you fit in?’

‘Yeah, I do. I mean I’m no more screwed up than anyone else, am I?’ She turns in her chair, tries to look at everyone else, as though seeking affirmation or laughter.

‘So, if Robin’s a father figure, do you see other members of the group as… siblings?’

‘Yeah, I suppose. Heather and Chris… a bit, because we’re a bit closer in age. And the whole love/hate thing.’

‘Your feelings towards them swing between those two extremes?’ Tony asks.

‘Not literally. Just… I’m not always sure if Heather actually likes me and sometimes I want to smash Chris’s face in when he makes some comment about how I look. But then he makes me laugh or something… and it’s not like I don’t know why he’s doing it.’

‘Why do you think he’s doing it?’

‘Because he’s insecure.’

‘Is that something you recognise?’

‘Yeah, course.’ The smile falters and for the first time she begins to look slightly uncomfortable. ‘Isn’t everyone?’

‘Is there anyone in the group who makes you feel more insecure?’

‘I said. When Chris makes fat jokes.’

‘Anyone else?’

‘Not really,’ Caroline says.

‘Who would you say is the most secure person in the group?’

‘Probably Robin again. That’s how he seems, anyway. What do I know, though? He might go home and cry himself to sleep every night.’

‘Is that what you do?’

‘No.’ The smile returns. ‘Not every night.’

Tony smiles back. He says, ‘If you
were
to go home and cry yourself to sleep, who is the person in the group who would probably be responsible?’

‘I don’t know.’ She drums her fingers against her thighs. ‘I mean, it could be anybody, couldn’t it? Like I said, I feel close to everyone, so that means everyone’s equally likely to upset me, doesn’t it?’

Experience tells Tony that blanket statements like this are rarely, if ever true. He needs to come at the issue another way. He says, ‘How about if I asked you if there was someone in the group who you’re not quite as close to as you’d like?’

Caroline puffs out her cheeks then lets the breath out slowly. Her face creases, as though she’s reaching for the one fact that will win her a million on some game show. Eventually, she says, ‘Maybe Diana.’ She turns immediately and says, ‘Sorry, Diana, I had to say somebody.’ She looks back to Tony. ‘Bloody hell, this is really difficult. It’s like the vote-off in
X Factor
…’

Tony scribbles in his notepad, then looks up.

‘Is there someone in the group who you feel tends to dominate the sessions?’

‘Well, probably Chris,’ Diana says. She folds her arms. She appears relaxed, confident. ‘In that we have to spend so much time dealing with all his nonsense.’

‘You resent that?’

‘Yes, a bit… no, a lot, actually. It’s like we have to confront it all the time. The nasty comments or the filthy jokes. And if he’s in a bad mood it’s like we’re walking on eggshells.’

‘Because it’s always about him.’

‘Yes. Whole sessions sometimes.’

‘You feel that sometimes the group gets waylaid?’

‘Yes, and if I’m honest Caroline does it too, sometimes.’ She turns her head, though not quite far enough to make eye contact with Caroline. ‘And I’m sorry if it sounds like I’m just saying that because of what she said about me. She talks about Chris making fat jokes, but she brings the subject up herself all the time. Poor me, you know? Poor… obese me.’

Caroline laughs, but clearly she is not finding this funny. ‘Am I missing something, here?’ She looks around. ‘This is exactly what
she
does. Come on, Robin, you said so yourself.’

Robin does not look back at her.

Tony allows himself a sly smile and looks at Diana. ‘Do you think perhaps that Caroline’s feelings are valid?’

‘No, not really.’

‘Only I’m just wondering if you dislike the tendency some people have to talk about themselves and their own problems all the time because perhaps you recognise it in yourself.’

‘Takes one to know one,’ Caroline says. ‘That’s basically what he’s getting at.’

For half a minute or more, Diana stares at a spot just to the right of Tony’s head. Then she says, ‘Yes, all right. Perhaps.’

Tony nods, pleased. ‘And why do you think your typical way of relating to the group is to talk about your problems outside? To consistently present the ongoing problem you’re having with your ex-husband and your daughter?’

The shrug is momentary, the smile no more than a slit. ‘Because I’m a silly, selfish bitch?’

‘Is that what you really think?’

Diana shakes her head. ‘No. But I can see why other members of the group might feel… trapped, though. Or somewhat limited.’

‘Do you think anyone in particular has felt like that?’

‘All of them, at one time or another, I should think. Robin, certainly.’ She turns in Robin’s direction. ‘I’m sorry if I made you feel like that, truly, I am.’

‘It’s fine,’ Robin says.

‘You’re not here to apologise for anything,’ Tony says. ‘Not unless you feel you really need to.’

‘What I need is reassurance, I suppose,’ Diana says. ‘Deep down that’s probably what I’m after.’

‘What kind of reassurance?’

‘That I’m right to hate her. The woman who took my husband and as good as took my daughter at the same time. I want people to tell me that all this rage is justified and that I’m not just losing my marbles.’

‘That’s how you’d describe it? Rage?’

‘There isn’t another word for it.’

‘Boring?’ Chris says.

Tony does not take his eyes off Diana. ‘Can I suggest that rage is only part of it?’

‘It’s needy,’ Heather says. ‘I really don’t mean that in a negative way, I promise. Obviously you feel angry, but I think you basically want to be reassured that it wasn’t your fault. That’s what the drinking was really about.’

Diana’s head drops slowly, as though she is falling asleep.

‘How does that make you feel?’ Tony asks. He waits a few seconds. ‘What Heather just suggested.’

For a while there is only the sound of bodies shifting in chairs, and distant traffic. When Diana finally looks up, her perfectly applied mascara is bleeding on to her cheek.

‘Yes, I want someone to tell me that my daughter’s wrong,’ she says. ‘That he didn’t leave because I wasn’t a good enough wife. What’s wrong with that? I want to be told that I’m worth a bit more than dog-walking and watching daytime TV and wasting time in that stupid charity shop. That I’m still attractive, and that I might be quite interesting, if anyone could be bothered to find out and that maybe, instead of people feeling sorry for me and telling me that time is a great healer and how everything happens for a good reason, someone somewhere might actually want to fuck me now and again.’