Phoebe disliked the woman in front of her almost as much as she disliked the fact that she was forced to come here and talk to her. ‘Mandatory psychotherapy/counselling sessions’ Who ever came up with that bright idea? How can you forcefully psychotherpize or whatever anyone?
Made no sense to Phoebe, as it did not the heavy, pleated wool skirt the woman was wearing. You would think she is about to go out in the field and mind the sheep. No, though, she sat there in the comfortable, warm, office making nonsensical demands. Like:
‘Tell me about childhood.’
There was nothing to tell. A childhood like any other. Everybody always assumes it’s the parents, well I will let you know it is not always the parents, sometimes it is just this upside- down world we live in.
‘I was not suggesting it is the parents, I was merely wanting to establish some details about your childhood. Where you went to school, where you grew up. Stuff like that. I am not here to make up things.’
The woman’s voice was steady and dependable.
‘Yeah right, and I am supposed to believe that! Any way I grew up in Kildare, not far from here, and went to St. Brigit’s there. We still had nuns when I was growing up. Those were though women, although thinking back now, they had it alright, room and board, a steady, secure job, nobody to beat them up. I would become a nun now.’
The words were said half jokingly but somehow she seemed to also mean them. Her blue eyes wondered outside the window, for a moment forgetting to stare down the wool clad person in front of her.
There, with the sun shining on her face, she allowed herself to be transported to an alternative reality. A reality in which she did not need to fight everybody, everyday, but in which she was just alive, living.
‘I wonder if there are still nuns there … I haven’t been back in so long.’ Her voice was now fading in the memories.
For the first time since she had entered the room she seemed relaxed, leaning back against the chair and thinking. All of a sudden she seemed to light up and turned to the woman in front of her.
‘Maybe I should go back! To visit of course, see how the old place looks …’
‘The old place?’, the psychotherapist seemed to just echo her thoughts.
‘Yes, my Gran had a small house, must be in ruins by now. She brought me up you know, when my ma and da left for Dublin. But then I left. Not sure what happened to it. Somebody told me a few years back that it will be mine when she goes.’ Her voice got lost in the possibilities.
For a couple of minutes the only sound in the room was the rhythmic sound of a cheap, plastic wall clock. Funny how clearly you can hear time going by when you stop.
In that quiet moment Phoebe connected to a different her, a long forgotten her, a very different person that did not feel the need to push people our of buses when they were not getting off quickly enough.
‘She is ok, no, the old woman?’, she seemed almost like praying.
The psychotherapist nodded.
‘Yes, I understand she will make a full recovery once her leg heals. It is a bit tricky with women of a certain age and broken bones, but I was informed that she is doing well. Would you, maybe, consider visiting her?’
Phoebe was about to say a hurried no, when she realized that actually, maybe, she would consider that.
‘Maybe. Not sure.’ She wavered.
‘Then you could go to Kildare and visit with a lighter heart.’
Phoebe was about to provide a snappy remark about how would this stranger know anything about her heart, but stopped herself. Her heart might indeed be lighter after she sees the old woman she ‘accidentally pushed because she ‘had not seen her’ and was in a hurry to get to work. These solicitors nowadays, worth every penny, especially when they are free.
A little bell signaled time was up.
They both got up and walking out Phoebe felt like she had a plan, she knew what to do and what she wanted to do, something she had not in a long time. Funny that! She would have thanked the woman, but that was giving her too much credit. So, Phoebe just left, thinking to herself that maybe that chat did help.
Maybe.
That skirt was still too ridiculous for words though.