Chapters (28)
‘How am I ever meant to trust you?’ I asked her. ‘You knew everything, all my secrets, and you used them against me . . .’
She shook her head. ‘No, that’s not how it was . . .’
Well, there’s no arguing with the different stories we tell ourselves, is there, Dr. R? I looked over her shoulder at the steady flow of greyness moving away to somewhere else, leaving only more greyness in its place.
‘I miss you so much,’ she said. I was pleased by this stage to see the tears. She’d earned them. Besides, this is exactly what you want to hear when you’ve been left out of the club, isn’t it? The club is rubbish without you. We miss you. We made a mistake. We need you. You’re a core member.
‘I’m so sorry . . .’
‘You fucking should be.’
What could I do? What would you do, Dr. R? Suppose Si Hubby is shagging someone in the orchestra; would you forgive him? I reckon you would. None of us are perfect, not even you. And I missed her, you see. So much. I was lost without her. Especially during this nightmare, she would have been the person I turned to. Do you think people deserve a second chance, Dr. R? I do. We can all fuck up. What are we if we don’t show forgiveness? After all, how do we know that we are no better? How do we ever know that we, given the right conditions, wouldn’t shit on our own doorsteps too? Oh, we hope we are better, we like to think we are better than that, we would take our dumps elsewhere – bury them perhaps, but how do we know? I had to give her a chance. I too would want forgiveness.
Ness read me well and cautiously reached out her fingers to take mine. I responded in an infinitesimal way and she clutched my fingers and twisted them in her own. Then she shuffled forwards and hung her head. I let her crumple into my chest. I appreciated how she played the part of Humble Wretch so I could play the Great Consoler. I stroked her frizzy hair and told her it was all right, everything was going to be all right.