Page 13 of The Therapist

‘Oh, Mike,’ says Sandy, shaking her head as more tears appear.

‘If you can’t even admit you have a problem, how are we ever going to make things better?

I don’t want to go to the police. I really don’t want to.

I don’t want to get divorced either but you have to admit…

’ Her face pales. ‘You have to admit what you do in order for anything to change, isn’t that right, Lana?

’ she says, raising her head and looking at me, and I nod.

I am gifted one of her glorious smiles for agreeing with her and I realise that I am being manipulated here. I am supposed to be neutral.

Mike shoots out of his seat and I feel myself rearing back as my heart rate speeds up. He comes towards me, waving his clenched fist in my face. ‘How stupid are you to fall for this crap?’ he says. ‘She’s the one who gets physical.’

I push myself further away from him and he drops his fist, mutters, ‘Shit,’ and goes to the door. ‘I knew this was bullshit,’ he says and he opens the office door, slamming it behind him as he leaves.

And Sandy bursts into tears. ‘Do you see?’ she wails. ‘Do you see what I’m dealing with?’

I wait while she sobs, giving her time to get a hold of herself – and if I’m honest, for me to get a hold of myself, too.

I saw that surge of anger. Is that what happens?

Does she goad him into hurting her? It’s not something we are ever supposed to consider but it can happen.

In relationships where domestic violence is part of things, one partner sometimes does push the other into violence.

Most of the time, it’s the woman pushing the man because at least, once he has hit her, she gets some relief from the cycle of abuse.

She gets to have him move into the apologetic phase.

And that appears to be what I have seen today but I also watched Sandy push her husband, watched his incomprehension at her accusations.

He didn’t say that she forces him to hurt her, that it’s her fault.

He just denied it was happening and instead called her the aggressor.

Finally, she stops, blows her nose and then sits back and takes a deep breath. ‘I had such hope,’ she says.

I’m not sure what to say to her. Her husband has accused her of being the one to lash out physically but everything about him seems to indicate that he is the one who hurts her.

Whatever the truth is, these two people cannot be together until things are sorted out, especially not tonight after what just happened.

‘I think you should find a safe place to be tonight,’ I say. ‘He does seem really angry. Maybe get the children from school and go somewhere else, give him time to cool off. There are places I can call…people who will help…’

‘No…no, it’s fine,’ she replies, shaking her head vehemently. ‘You don’t need to worry about me. I know him and I know he’s going to be upset about walking out. He’ll probably be really…nice for a few days.’

‘But maybe some more time apart would be good for him. It will give him time to think. I can get Kirsty to organise somewhere for you to stay tonight with the kids. I can speak to the police with you. I promise you that I can help you get free of this man.’

‘And I’m telling you, Lana…’ she begins, her demeanour changing quickly.

I see the shutting down in her eyes again, the quick change in her personality when she wants to end a discussion.

‘I know my husband and I’ll be fine. You don’t want to be someone who pushes a patient into doing something she doesn’t want to, do you? ’

‘Of course not,’ I reply, feeling like I’m being accused of something. ‘But I want you to be safe. You will be safer away from him.’

‘No,’ she says firmly. ‘No,’ she repeats, returning to the tissue in her hand.

‘It’s fine for you to tell me what to do, Lana, but you don’t know everything about my life and my marriage.

You don’t even know everything about him.

He’s a good man, a good provider. He loves the kids and I’m not willing to blow up eight years of marriage because he’s struggling right now. ’

‘I understand but you shouldn’t be afraid of your partner.

You know that.’ It’s difficult to keep myself from getting exasperated.

I’m not sure what Sandy hoped to achieve here, but I remind myself that domestic abuse – emotional or physical – is complex and Sandy has been with this man for a long time.

Unravelling how she got here and why she stays will take many hours of work.

I cannot push her to make any decisions until she is strong enough but I would like her to put some distance between herself and Mike tonight.

‘Just for tonight, take some space and time,’ I try.

‘You don’t’ – she turns to stare at the door to my office as though she is contemplating leaving – ‘you don’t get it. He had a hard childhood. His parents, particularly his father,’ she says, ‘was brutal.’

‘We all carry baggage but it’s not an excuse to hurt someone.’

‘He once told me a story about his father teaching him to swim or not teaching him, just throwing him into the pool and waiting for him to surface. I mean I’ve heard of people doing that before but Mike never surfaced; he sank like a stone every single time.

He was only four years old and he almost died.

He used to hide whenever his father told him it was time for a lesson.

Isn’t that terrible? I mean can you imagine? ’

It does sound awful. My mind flashes back on Iggy’s first swimming lesson, both Oliver and me in attendance with our phones ready to snap pictures and a sweet teacher who turned the whole thing into a game and rewarded him with a small chocolate afterwards.

‘It’s still not an excuse, Sandy. He can get help for his past trauma. He can heal and be better but you can’t make him do that. Your priority is yourself and your children.’

‘The kids love him. I can’t take them away from their dad. I shouldn’t have ambushed him in the session. I should have told him what we were going to discuss. I don’t blame him for the way he feels.’ She looks directly at me, a desperate appeal on her face.

I take some time to think through my reply.

If her husband is hurting her, she needs to get away from him.

Even if she is the violent one as he has suggested, she still needs to get away from him.

He is so much bigger and stronger than she is and I don’t want to think about what could happen if an argument between the two of them got out of control.

‘Sandy, when a person is in a domestic abuse situation, they need to find a way to leave to keep themselves safe. Your children need to be safe. There are, as I’ve told you, so many resources, so many people who can help.

I can go with you to the police right now to report him. You will be supported all the way.’

I’ve never laid it out as clearly for her before. And part of me is hoping that she agrees to go to the police so that I can be certain that she is the one telling the truth. She wouldn’t take the chance of getting them involved if she was lying. At least, I don’t think she would.

‘No…no. And you should know, Lana’ – she looks at me with defiance in her eyes – ‘that if you go to the police, I’ll deny anything is happening. They can’t do anything unless I agree to press charges and I won’t. Don’t think I haven’t looked into this, because I have.’

‘I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, Sandy.’ I can almost feel her pulling my strings to get me to respond the way she wants me to, but I don’t know how to stop it happening.

‘I’ll talk to him and it will be fine.’ She sits back against the sofa and then she giggles. ‘But if I don’t turn up next week, you can assume he’s killed me.’ Her giggle turns into a full-throated laugh.

I stare at her, wondering why she would say such things and what kind of a reaction she is expecting from me. It’s such a contrast to only a moment ago that I feel like my head is spinning.

‘Oh my God, Lana, I’m joking obviously. I know how to handle him.’

‘It doesn’t seem like it,’ I say quietly, shifting in my chair.

My phone buzzes to indicate the end of the session and I have to admit that I’m relieved. I’m exhausted.

‘Okay then,’ she says as she stands up. ‘I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me at all.’

I have another client in the waiting room and there’s nothing more I can do now. ‘Call me anytime,’ I say, standing and going to my desk to grab a piece of paper that I write my mobile number onto. Not something I have ever had to do before, but I’m very concerned.

‘Okay,’ she says, ‘I’ll see you next week, Lana.’

She opens the office door and closes it behind her with a soft click.

I drop onto the sofa and then turn and lie down, stretching my legs out and resting my head on a plump blue pillow.

I need a minute or two. None of my patients ever do this but the sofa is big enough in case they ever want to.

A ping on my phone alerts me to a text message and I pull it out of my pocket.

I’m sorry I got upset with you. I know you’re only trying to help. I’ll be fine. Mike and I are fine. He’s a good man.

I stare at the text. It doesn’t sound like Sandy at all. It sounds like something you say when you’re being told what to say. The see-saw of my belief between Mike and Sandy tips wildly back and forth.

I’m really not sure what I should do here, and if Ben didn’t have such a complicated relationship with Sandy, I would go and ask him.

Instead, I email SueEllen.

Free for a catch up?

Sunning myself on a glorious beach in Greece right now. Back in two weeks. I’ll tell Pete to schedule it in.

Thanks, enjoy. Lucky you xx

I can handle the situation for the next couple of weeks and then SueEllen will have some input.

Nothing is going to happen in two weeks.