It wasn’t exactly a coffee break. Instead I took a warm, sweet cup of herbal tea from Amber and sipped it, letting it heat me from the inside. ‘You’ve got such a de ep sensitivity,’ she said as she handed it to me, eyes full of concern. ‘I don’t want any caffeine triggering your nervous system before we do this piece of work together.’ I luxuriated in her attention, in feeling like a fragile and precious artefact that had to be handled with the utmost care. ‘Thanks, Amber,’ I said softly. There was a queue of people behind me waiting for their own hot drinks, and I couldn’t simply stay there and bask. Instead I backed away. My heart was beating fast, even without caffeine to drive the tattoo. Marco sat alone at the table, his eyes almost hazy. He grabbed my wrist a little too tightly as I approached. ‘Get ready!’ he said. We were like a circuit now, his excitement sparking through me. ‘I feel incredible.’ ‘Do you really?’ I said, ke eping my voice low. I didn’t want anyone to think I was being critical, but I wanted to know what I was in for. ‘You seemed pretty devastated for some of that.’ ‘No, no,’ said Marco. His words felt too loud, too quick – I could imagine exactly what he was like when he was high. ‘I feel like it’s all gone. It’s just gone. All that, that’ – his hands karate-chopped the chilly air around him – ‘that shit! Just gone. My life is beginning again, just like yours will. Lucky you, Toxic Mummy’s Daughter.’ A beatific grin spread across his face, like sunlight glinting on water, and hope began to flood me. Maybe what I thought was fear was pure bravery. We were Amber’s warriors, and I was riding into battle. I was fighting for myself the way my family had never bothered to fight for me. They might not know my value, but here – with this random, beautiful new family I’d just discovered – I could find the unblemished me, the pristine version that existed before their twisted take on love scarred and mauled me. I reached over, hugged Marco so tightly I could feel his heart beating against mine. ‘I think you’re incredible,’ I whispered into his ear, as intimate as a lover. ‘Welcome to your turn!’ said Amber, as I stood by the couch. The rest of the group watched intently, their focus lifting me skyward. ‘Why don’t you lie down?’ ‘Sure,’ I said, hopping up and peeling myself backwards. Arthur’s dark eyes unexpectedly bored down from above. ‘So!’ said Amber, almost playful. ‘Here you are, Toxic Mummy’s Daughter. Ready for your release.’ I was shaking with fearful anticipation, my limbs quivering against the rough towelling fabric that covered the couch. I tried to r eply, but the words stuck fast in my throat. I looked up at Arthur – the face I’d decided was wise and kind – and tried to find my focus. There was a haziness that I put down to resistance. To my misplaced loyalty. ‘I’m ready,’ I said. Frustration welled up inside me. How incredible would it be to be free of that nagging voice, constantly telling me I was a piece of shit? ‘I’m so fucking ready!’ ‘Amen to that!’ whooped Amber. ‘And are we ready to support Toxic Mummy’s daughter? Are we all here beside her?’ Their voices bubbled up from the surround, full of care and love and blessings and I let myself bask in it, hot tears already starting to streak my cheeks, pain and happiness made liquid. ‘Let’s begin,’ said Amber. Her voice dropped, her words a low incantation. ‘Tell us where you’re going to take us.’ Marco’s story had been so dramatic, so rockstar. Drugs and danger. Would my own trauma
seem pathetic and suburban by comparison? Amber picked up on my hesitation. ‘Arthur. Some reiki would help here.’ And then his strong hands were cupping my head, fingers on my neck, unexpected waves of trance-like relaxation spreading through my body and giving me a burst of clarity. My reticence wasn’t about whether my story was dramatic enough – it was my reluctance to betray my family, to unlock the box. And all the time I was betraying me. I still hadn’t told Amber the whole story, because I could barely tell it to myself. The time was now. ‘I was thirteen, and I was in the drama group,’ I started. Drama was everywhere it seemed. ‘We were doing Top Girls. I was the lead, Marlene.’ I laughed nervously and everyone supportively laughed with me. ‘Sorry, that’s not really the point of this story.’ Amber stroked my arm supportively while Arthur’s hands were still wrapped around my head. Was it wrong how much I liked the feeling? How much I didn’t want him to stop? My eyes met his for a split second and I glanced away. ‘Mrs Farrell, our teacher who was directing it, was ill and she had to leave the rehearsal. She was pregnant and it was making her sick.’ Amber’s fingers exerted a microsecond of pressure on my arm. ‘So I came home. It was the middle of the day. I remember it was January and I’d borrowed Mum’s leather gloves without asking and I’d lost one. I was trying to work out if I should fess up or try to find a way to r eplace them, but I knew I’d never be able to afford to.’ ‘You see’, said Amber softly, ‘how your mum is always your internal anchor? But all the stories you tell about her are studded with these tiny, painful battles.’ ‘I know,’ I said, my voice high and tight now, all too aware where it was I was heading. I never spoke this out loud. ‘I could hear someone was upstairs,’ I said, ‘even though I’d thought the house would be empty and it’d just be me, watching TV.’ I stopped again, and this time it was harder to find the path back. ‘Here,’ said Amber. ‘Take a sip of tea. It’s warming. It’ll bring you back into your body.’ I sat up for a minute, reluctantly breaking the contact with Arthur. Amber held out an aluminium flask, and I took a gulp. It tasted more bitter than I expected, unlike the comfortingly sweet brew I’d had earlier. Tim grinned at me, catching my face scrunching up at the taste, and I smiled back at him, comforted by his easy warmth. I lay back down again, relieved to feel Arthur’s hands wrap themselves back around my head. My focus softened and sharpened all at once. ‘So I go upstairs,’ I said, my voice loud in my ears now. ‘And I’m thinking, she’ll shout at me, but at least we’ll get it over with. And anyway, there was a weird kind of satisfaction in annoying her, and not respecting all her – stuff.’ A sob es caped. ‘I wasn’t a very nice teenager to be honest.’ ‘You were doing your best to navigate a de eply disturbed family,’ said Amber, cutting in. ‘We can all see that, even if you can’t see it quite yet.’ The answering chorus of support from the circle was my rocket fuel. I was on a roll now, words tumbling out. ‘I get to the landing, get to their room, and I think she must be watching TV in there. There’s noise. And I don’t know why, but I just open the door.’ Even then, nearly twenty years later, the shock still reverberated through me, time sliced thin. ‘And Dad’s in the bed, and she’s in there, and she’s got this little blue wool dress on, but I can tell she’s just pulled it over her head. I’m thinking, You’ve got no knickers on, have you? She was blushing bright red. And Dad starts covering, saying how he’s got flu and Esther’s brought him Nurofen, but I just ran out of the room and down the road. And...’
My gaze caught Amber’s, the naked fury on her face catching me off guard. Her blue eyes were like chips of ice, her jaw clenched tight as if she was swallowing down something disgusting. At first it frightened me, but then I reframed it, just like she’d taught me to do. Her twisted face was a snapshot of how much she cared for me, how much my pain had become her pain. And that, I believed, was love. ‘So I go to the Starbucks on the Uxbridge Road, and I’m retching in the toilet, and I don’t want to call anyone and tell them my dad’s a bastard. And Esther’s only four years older than me, and she puts my little sister to bed every night and reads her stories like she’s her mum. I’m so ashamed it feels like I’m dying, like it’s my sin. And then I think – I have to call Mum. And we’ve been fighting all the time, and I’ve lost her gloves, but now we’re going to need each other. So...’ And then the sobbing overtook me, my body wracked with all of the pain and the betrayal. ‘Sip some more tea,’ said Amber, rubbing my back as I sat up. The group sat in the circle, eyes wide and loving. ‘Tell us what happened next,’ she said once my sobs had subsided. ‘We’re all here for you.’ I lay back down, the room slightly hazy, the woodchip wallpaper moving around like tiny, crawling bugs. Being this emotional, this bare, was a drug all of its own, it turned out. ‘I don’t even have a mobile phone. I have to go to this phone box that tramps piss in and hold my nose and call her. And I tell her, and I’m sobbing, and she tells me to wait, and she’ll come and get me. And then...’ More tears – a torrent that made Hannah’s squalls of emotion from the night before seem like a passing cloud. Arthur’s hands cupped my head again, and for a second I sank into his touch. It was an effort to pull myself back into my story. ‘I was there for two hours! She just left me there. And then she came through the door in this camel coat she had – she was so proud of that fucking coat that autumn – and even though I’d been waiting all that time, I couldn’t be angry, I was just so relieved...’ I paused, and Amber’s soft voice cut in. ‘What happened, Rachel?’ ‘I saw her face.’ I was whispering now. ‘It was me she was angry with. It was me who’d done something wrong. How could I say that about Dad? How could I disrespect their marriage? But I knew.’ ‘Yes, you did,’ agreed Amber. ‘You knew the truth. And so often the truth- teller is the one that gets cast out.’ ‘And I had to live in that house with that stupid little bitch; it was months till she left. And all I wanted to do was get away.’ Amber’s face had relaxed for a while, but now it returned to that furious twist of rage. ‘She was only seventeen,’ she said, her voice like a knife. ‘Basically a child. You were only thirteen. Both of you needed a mother, but she just couldn’t do it, could she? She couldn’t show up for either of you.’ I knew in my heart that it was right, the sympathy that she was doling out for Esther, but I wasn’t ready to share her compassion. She’d been a villain for too long for the #Me Too truth that Amber was telling to puncture my narrative. And besides, I was greedy. I wanted to suck up all the love and sympathy that was on offer. ‘She just left me with it,’ I sobbed, my hands intertwining with Amber’s ring- laden fingers. ‘And the pain had to go somewhere!’ said Amber, loud and firm. ‘So you turned it on yourself.’ ‘Dad just pretended nothing had happened,’ I wailed. ‘He never mentioned it again.’ ‘But it was your mother who actively rejected you,’ Amber said. ‘Who you went to for comfort, and who rejected and punished you.’ ‘I was so alone,’ I said, the pain overwhelming me now. My vision was blurry with tears, Amber’s other disciples no more than fuzzy shapes. ‘She just punished me for telling the truth.’
‘I know, I know,’ intoned Amber, ‘so let’s find out where this toxic bond first started. Then we can break it. You’re doing so well. So, so well.’ Arthur started up with the soft ululating sound that came from the back of his throat, his strong hands working the bones of my shoulders. ‘Where is the spirit taking you?’ said Amber. ‘Follow its guidance. It knows where to lead you, Rachel.’ The room was spinning again, my thoughts wisps of energy that I could barely catch. It was hard to get air de ep in my lungs, my breath shallow with shock and fear. It made it so much easier to slip down the path into an imagined past, just as Marco had. ‘I’m wearing a long dress,’ I said, pictures starting to swim up in my brain. ‘I bet,’ said Arthur. ‘My intuition is that you were very high status.’ ‘Was I?’ I said, trying not to be gratified. Amber laughed indulgently, and I let myself sink de eper into the experience. ‘I’m in a big room. There’s a long table.’ ‘Who’s there?’ whispered Amber. ‘Who’s there with you, Rachel? Look around and tell us.’ The intensity of that day makes the memories indistinct, a camera flash too bright to leave a clear picture in its wake. It wasn’t all suggestion, but I must have known what she wanted to hear – and she in turn must have known how well trained I was to silently intuit another person’s needs and obediently fulfil them. Even now, with everything I’ve learnt, that knowledge still chills me to my core. ‘It’s a dressing table,’ I said. ‘I’m brushing her hair.’ ‘Whose hair?’ said Amber, urgent. I could almost feel the cool metal of the brush’s handle in my hand, the texture of her long tresses responding to my strokes. ‘I’m her lady-in-waiting,’ I said. ‘Lady-in-waiting?’ said Amber. ‘That sounds about right.’ Laughter bubbled up from the group, propelling me forwards. ‘I’m scared of her,’ I said, a wave of terror swe eping through me like an unexpected tide. ‘I’m so scared,’ I added, grabbing tightly to Amber’s hand. The room was spinning again, a kaleidoscope of images. ‘You’re safe, Rachel. We’ve got you. Ke ep telling us what you see. What’s she done to frighten you? To make you feel so vulnerable?’ ‘I made her angry...’ Amber’s voice was an intense growl. ‘Why is she so angry, Rachel?’ Tears were streaming down my face again, my breath tight in my throat. I was lightheaded. I tried to feel the solidity of the couch beneath my shaking body. ‘I wronged her.’ My language was changing. ‘I betrayed her trust.’ ‘How?’ demanded Amber. ‘How did you betray her, Rachel?’ Her voice dropped lower. ‘And how is she going to punish you?’ A moan es caped from my mouth, my limbs thrashing around on the couch. This time Amber didn’t move to comfort me. ‘She betrayed him. Then I betrayed her.’ It felt so real, my mind a cinema screen. I could see her eyes in the mirror, the rage that burnt in them. ‘I told him. I forsook her.’ ‘And then she destroyed you!’ said Amber. ‘My own body’s burning up now.’ She looked out to the group. ‘I can feel it right through me – your fear, your rage.’ I could hear her above me, taking great big gulps of air. ‘It feels like I’m choking.’ A strange howl came from her, almost animal. ‘Don’t hurt her!’ My body felt like it was nothing more than a streak of fear. I didn’t know who was howling now, me or her. ‘I think she hurt you very badly,’ Amber said, voice low and guttural. ‘I died at her hand,’ I said. It was so strange, the way my syntax was changing without any effort from me. ‘I can see it,’ said Amber. ‘You’re in darkness, so cold.’ Her whole body was swaying now, like branches buffeted by wind, her voice a piercing sing song. ‘It’s a dark cell, and you’re all alone.’ As she
said it, I started to see it, her stories becoming mine. Her hands dove for my heart, kneading my trembling body. Arthur’s hands were around my head again. ‘I don’t want to die,’ I wailed, not sure where the words even came from. ‘Leave her now!’ she demanded. ‘I command you to leave her.’ My sobbing had reached fever pitch, my whole body convulsing. Was this why my life had been so hard? Some twisted sacred contract with the woman who was meant to love me more than anyone, but hated me on some level too de ep and primal for either of us to even know about? The pain welled up, exploded, and finally enveloped me in its blackness. I could hear sounds, but it was hard to identify them. My eyelids reluctantly strained open, Hannah swimming into vision above me. ‘Where am I?’ I said. ‘You’re tucked up in bed,’ she said, smiling contentedly. ‘Amber says you need to rest. You were so brave – I was really proud of you.’ She ducked down to floor level. ‘Here, I brought you a cup of tea. Builders, two sugars. I thought you needed something stronger than chamomile!’ I sat up in bed, my head knocking against the cold wall, and took the mug from her hands. My temples were thudding with pain. ‘How did I even get here?’ I asked. Outside the small window above my bed, the sky was inky black. Hannah paused a second, nervously licking her cracked lips, and then recovered herself. ‘You... I think you tried so hard it got too much. Everything just had to be purged, Rachel! Amber says we can call you that again, because you’ve shed it all!’ She flung her hands up as she said it, the phrase so clearly Amber’s, not her own. ‘What do you mean, too much?’ I said, my body spiky with panic. ‘How long have I been out for?’ Hannah hesitated again. ‘You kind of... it was like you needed to rest. And then you did. Your body had so much wisdom!’ ‘I blacked out?’ ‘Kind of.’ She lunged towards me, gripping both my hands in hers. ‘You went on the most incredible journey.’ Her eyes were wet with tears now. ‘I was... I was humbled, watching you. And now you’re free!’ It wasn’t just my head that throbbed; my left side felt bruised and tender. The story was starting to come back to me in fragments – the raging woman, the dark, dank cell that I’d perished in, a shape-shifting version of my own mother responsible. I think I must have made a lightning decision in that moment, lying in that tiny bedroom – a cell of another kind – that I’d paid so much to lock myself into. I couldn’t afford to burn down another structure. To leave myself all alone in the wreckage. For now, I had to believe that this was home. That these were people I could find shelter with, a family I’d chosen at least for now. I smiled back at Hannah. ‘How about you?’ I said, squeezing her hand. ‘How was your turn?’ Her eyes shone brightly. ‘Oh my God, it was amazing. I feel amazing!’ I can barely remember the details of Hannah’s story, only my sense of shame that she – and the others according to her garbled account – had all managed such ecstatic rebirths whilst mine had felt like something closer to an exorcism. As her words washed over me, I had a visceral image of my siblings, of Sophie most of all, ringed around the kitchen table with our parents, wine glasses brimming and paper hats wonky and crumpled, Christmas gently se eping away. Would it always be me who prowled the edges of any group, pitiful and difficult? How easily I tortured myself back then; it’s not surprising that I’d conjured up a cell when I’d been invited to let my imagination run riot. It would take a long time to set myself free.