My eyes tracked Arthur as he leaned over the bar, effortlessly charming our drinks out of the barmaid as other customers jostled for service. For a horrible second, his resemblance to my dad – the particular way they swung through the trees in the jungle – was too acute to ignore. I pushed the thought away – there wasn’t time for it. I already had an agenda for this evening: I had to know if there was any truth to Tim’s horrible, torturing suggestions. Arthur came ambling back to the table, a drink held in each of his gnarled hands. He put down my white wine and raised a bushy eyebrow. ‘Are you sure you’re alright with this?’ My hand moved towards the glass a little too fast, a bandit reaching for a gun. ‘Yeah, honestly, I’m fine now. Me and Amber agree on that. The binge drinking was really just a symptom – a way of making my unhappiness visible.’ Arthur looked slightly glazed over. ‘But I’m so much better now!’ I took a gulp of my drink, waiting for the internal equation to kick in – a starburst of pleasure followed by a pleasing numbness. How had I survived without this sensation for all those months? I hoped it would give me the courage to find the words I needed. ‘As long as you’re sure,’ said Arthur, taking a long mouthful of his Guinness. We were in a west London pub around the corner from his flat, which did a bad impression of a spit and sawdust boozer. The Chablis by the glass and the plates of charcuterie, reluctantly picked at by skinny blondes on Tinder dates, told a very different story. ‘Definitely,’ I gabbled. ‘I mean, everything’s going so much better. I’ve finally set appropriate boundaries with my family, work’s stabilizing and the d epth I’m reaching with Amber...’ I unconsciously touched my heart through my jumper, the way Hannah would. ‘It’s really changed me.’ It seems incredible to me now, the way I could simultaneously live in multiple realities. No wonder the questions I had to ask were still too mangled to pass my lips. ‘That’s great, Rachel,’ said Arthur. Silence stretched out between us. My mouth was dry, and I took another greedy gulp of wine. ‘Have you got your boys this weekend?’ I asked, still playing for time. His face melted in a way that it never had for me. ‘Yeah, they’re coming Friday. Little terrors. Anyway, talking about how good you’re feeling...’ He gave a wolfish smile. ‘Shall we go back to mine soon?’ I hesitated. I couldn’t simply fold. ‘Arthur... I wanted to ask you something.’ ‘What’s that?’ I forced clarity. ‘Um, with reiki, do you ever use anything to relax the – what, patient?’ He looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Like, I don’t know. Hallucinogenics or – you know, like how everyone’s going on about mushrooms these days.’ ‘Absolutely not,’ he said irritably. ‘It would be completely unprofessional. It’s a hands-on healing; it’s not about other substances.’ ‘What, never? So, there was no way, on the retreat, you’d have given us something for – energy flow, or something?’ ‘Of course not,’ he barked. ‘Anyone who does practice that way should be barred.’ Fear prickled through my body. His professional affront was real: I felt sure that, if anyone had drugged me, it wasn’t him. ‘Right, it’s just something Tim said. About how I was at the end of my session.’ Something different crossed his face now, something complicated, but he wiped it away so swiftly that I could kid myself I imagined it. ‘I’d ignore him if I were you,’ he said. ‘Conventional medicine breeds hysteria. I’ll go to the bar and settle up. Do you want to give me your card, and I’ll just tap it for you?’
‘Here you go,’ I said, pulling out my radioactive Amex out of my purse. I k ept my focus on following his progress back to the bar, refusing to let my mind roam to the places it would soon be forced to travel to. It was barely sunrise as I approached Amber’s treatment room the next morning. It was kind of her to see me at this ungodly hour, I told myself, still refusing to unravel the implications of what Arthur had said to me. Some part of me was wary, though, judging by the way my finger hovered over the buzzer the same way it had that first time I came here. But this was Amber, I insisted to myself, firmly pressing. She was my protector. The saviour of my sanity. I felt it the moment I walked into the room. If she’d had an aura, it would have been an icy blue, the chill in the room tangible enough to make me shiver. She was sitting on the sofa, one leg folded underneath her like a ballet dancer. She didn’t get up to hug me like she normally did; instead she slowly raised her head, allowing our eyes to meet only when she was ready. ‘Hi,’ I said uncertainly, my stomach churning with a seasick dread. ‘Hello, Rachel,’ she r eplied, clipped. ‘Sit yourself down,’ she added, as if I should be asking her permission. I sat down opposite her, waiting for her to add something, but nothing came. ‘I’ve been really looking forward to seeing you,’ I said. ‘The whole thing with Sophie...’ I waited for my inevitable tears, but it seemed I was too tense for them to flow. Who knew that grief could be constipated? ‘It was so awful. I just wanted to hug her, to force her to see that we’re still us, despite all the horrible stuff with our parents, but she was so angry with me.’ Amber’s face remained a rigid mask. ‘And, Amber, she said they went to the police. S eparately from me. Like, two days before. You didn’t know that, did you? The police didn’t contact you? I know how sometimes you’ve tried to protect me from the way they bully me, but...’ I petered out, waiting for her to come back to life, but she simply stared at me blankly. It wasn’t safe here now, which made all the questions I was refusing to speak shout so loudly I knew I couldn’t block them out much longer. Still, I tried to bring her back to me. ‘Have I done something?’ I stammered. ‘I don’t know, Rachel. You tell me. Tell me about your week in a little more detail.’ Ice slithered down my spine. I knew where this was going. ‘Have you seen Hannah?’ I asked, as if I didn’t already know the answer to that question. I was as angry with myself as I was with her. Of course she’d run straight to Amber. Amber cocked her head, giving nothing away. ‘Why do you ask?’ ‘I just...’ My heart was fluttering like a trapped bird, my teeth chattering. I was irrationally terrified. ‘I just... I wondered what she’d said.’ ‘What do you think she might have said?’ ‘I wanted to tell you – I just... I didn’t know if you’d approve, and your approval means so much to me. You mean so much to me – you know that, don’t you?’ Amber held up a slim white hand, the rainbow of stones in her rings catching the light. ‘Slow down, Rachel. Spit out what it is you want to say so we know we’re on the same page.’ I was trapped now. What if she didn’t know, and I was unnecessarily dropping a bomb? A bomb Arthur had specifically asked me not to detonate. ‘Me and Arthur...’ The words were thick in my throat, hard to put together. ‘We’ve been seeing a bit of each other.’ Amber ste epled her elegant fingers, pausing before she deigned to r eply. ‘As friends?’ Was it a genuine question? Her expression was inscrutable. ‘N-no.’ I stammered. ‘We’ve been seeing each other – romantically.’ I sounded like a Mills and Boon novel. A deluded one at that – even I couldn’t kid myself that the series of secretive booty calls I’d signed up for were textbook
romance. ‘Romantically?’ said Amber, with a ghost of a smile. ‘And do you think that’s a good idea, considering the fragility of your mental health?’ ‘It just happened,’ I said pathetically. Amber’s gaze flitted away, as if she couldn’t quite bear to lay eyes on me, her failed experiment. ‘You do realize how early you are in the recovery process? How quickly the drink and drugs could become a life-threatening problem again?’ I nodded guiltily. At least she hadn’t guessed that I’d been tempted back already: how was it that Sophie simply knew? The thought of that innate closeness made the missing of my sister so visceral that I almost doubled up in pain. I could feel in that moment that, the way things were e volving, soon I would have no one. ‘I don’t take many patients on,’ Amber continued. ‘I’m very discerning, because when I do invest in rebuilding someone’s life, I need to know they’re really up for it.’ ‘I know, and I’m so lucky—’ She cut across me. ‘But that requires total trust, total transparency on both sides.’ ‘Of course!’ Amber almost sneered. ‘Of course?’ I paused, searching for the most authentic truth inside myself. The transparency she was demanding. Despite everything I half knew, I still wanted her to be the one to put me back together again. It was too precious to give up on without a fight. ‘I just – I miss it. The attention. Sex. All of it. He initiated it, and I wasn’t strong enough to say no to him.’ Not once did I think to say that it was her who had thrown him in my path. Who had created that messy sexual breeding ground for all of us. Amber shook her head sorrowfully. ‘Everything you just said – they’re the words of an addict. As we know, sex and love addiction are a major part of your profile, unsurprising with parents like yours. But that’s why I’ve been here. To give you the guidance to stop using these vices to numb the pain.’ Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘And I can only do that if you don’t lie to me.’ ‘I didn’t...’ Her voice rose. ‘A lie of omission is still a lie. And a de eply destructive one in the context of the therapeutic relationship.’ ‘I’m sorry, I really am sorry,’ I said, pleading. Her expression remained cold. ‘You are not well enough for this, Rachel. Who knows when you will be? I suspect this addiction is more destructive for you than any of the others. It speaks directly to the twisted, abusive family that tried to mould you in their image.’ Her words were like bullets. Now I was sobbing, my face buried in my hands. Would I always be defective – nothing more than a broken branch of a rotten tree? ‘I’ll end it... I’ll end it today,’ I told her. ‘I know I’m not ready. I’m so glad I told you.’ Her face slightly softened. ‘I’m glad you know that,’ she said. I smiled through my tears, pathetically grateful for this chink of light. Perhaps I could just forget about what Tim had said. Perhaps it was life-threatening to do otherwise. ‘Look at you, though,’ she said. ‘Do you really need more stress? Right now you’ve got to go to work and show Duncan that you’re his star staff member. His number one girl. That’s going to take a lot from you.’ The ground felt unsteady again, the prospect of the day ahead a dark tunnel. I gasped for breath, my throat constricting with fear. ‘I don’t know if I can do it... I can’t.’ Amber crossed the room, sinking down next to me on the sofa and putting her arms around me. ‘You can. I know that you can. Don’t ever forget how brave you are. How far you’ve come. This is a bump in the road, but you’re still driving the car.’ I could feel her lips moving against my hair. ‘I’ll call Arthur –
you don’t need any more drama put on you right now. He should have recognized how vulnerable you are – I’m going to make sure he thinks long and hard about his behaviour. And you can have an extra session this week; you need the support.’ I wanted to protest, to tell her it was obviously me who should speak to him, but it felt too risky to go up against her. Besides, I was already skating on thin ice – it wasn’t like I was paying for all the love and care she was lavishing on me to get me better. I must have known, too, that if I saw Arthur, I’d never have the strength to end it. ‘Thank you,’ I breathed. ‘I’m sorry I fucked up so badly. Thanks for not giving up on me.’ I was searching inside for those questions I’d arrived knowing that I needed to ask, but every time I grasped for them, they swam away from me. Eventually I gave up, letting my body slump against hers. ‘You’re welcome, precious girl,’ she said, stroking my cheek. Her voice was an equally soft caress. ‘You know I’ll never give up on you. Never ever.’