Page 72 of Forgive Me Not
‘Starting a new job is massive. I think it’s brilliant you taking a pay cut to do something so worthwhile. Don’t a lot of people drop out of the course?’
‘Yes. It’s certainly been challenging. I’ve studied motivational interviewing, restorative practice, boundaries and safeguarding, and I’m a walking dictionary when it comes to drugs…’ Eyes shining, Rachel carried on talking for a few moments.
‘So what’s the problem?’ said Emma, her eyes convincing her stomach that she wanted one of the plump scones. Against Cornish rules, she slathered it with clotted cream first and jam second.
‘What if I’m rubbish? Web design’s my thing. What if I can’t be tough or kind enough? What if the people I deal with don’t get any better? What if they relapse? I’ll feel guilty. I messed up my degree – what if I mess this up?’
‘Whoa! What if? What if? Hold on there. Talk about negative thinking. And you were drinking at university – you’re sober now.’
Rachel looked sheepish. ‘I know. I keep telling myself that I wouldn’t have qualified if I wasn’t up to the job.’
‘And you don’t need a qualification to prove you can do it,’ said Emma. ‘The way you’ve helped me says it all. Remember in the early days, whenever I thought about picking up, you weren’t afraid to remind me that I’d be letting Josephine down?’
Her stomach clenched. This last week she hadn’t thought much about her daughter.
‘Then that weird week of nightmares I had. Dreams about running after Andrea and Mum and never being able to catch them up? You insisted on sleeping in my room, and when I woke up in the night, you were there with your kettle.’ Emma smiled. ‘You’ll be perfect. Honestly. You know when to be kind and when to be firm. Anyone would be lucky to have you help them turn their life around.’
Rachel straightened up. ‘You really think I can do it?’
‘One hundred per cent,’ said Emma in between crumbling mouthfuls of scone. ‘And as for feeling guilty if others fail, remember what we’ve learnt – nothing and no one is to blame for someone’s behaviour apart from themselves.’
Heat swept up Emma’s neck as she recalled the past seven days of secretly blaming Gail for the way her life had developed. Poor Gail, who’d been stuck in an abusive relationship yet found her way out.
Rachel’s face lit up, and she bit into a slice of chocolate sponge. ‘Thanks. I feel so much better. It’s just that when it comes to work, I’ve stayed in my comfort zone for so long.’
‘Nothing can be more uncomfortable than sharing your most private feelings with strangers like we had to – I bet Monday will seem like a doddle.’
‘And talking of comfort, how are things at the farm? Are you more at ease there now?’
Emma stared into her cup.
‘What’s wrong?’ Rachel said gently.
Emma hesitated before blurting out the whole story, finishing with, ‘… and all this time Mum kept his contact from me.’
‘You know I can relate to that,’ Rachel said. ‘All those years Mum refused to even tell me my dad’s surname. But we have to remember Step Four and the inventories we drew up. All that letting go of resentments against people. Don’t those words actually just mean forgiving them?’
Emma thought for a moment. Yes, that was true. And it was also true that she had expected everyone to let go of their resentments against her, yet when it came to Gail, she was finding it oh so hard.
‘How about putting yourself in the other person’s position?’ said Rachel. ‘It can’t have been easy for Gail, carrying this secret, but what else could she have done? Did you say your father got help when he returned to France; that losing you finally made him face up to his behaviour?’
Emma nodded.
‘Who does that remind you of?’
She thought for a moment. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Yes you do.’
Emma’s brow furrowed. ‘You mean… me?’ Of course. Losing Josephine was what had made her determined to see the treatment through.
‘Maybe your mum had no choice. Maybe she knew your dad had to hit his rock bottom before he could change. If he’d stayed, the odds are his violence would have continued. She was protecting you, Emma.’
‘But hehaschanged. Don’t get me wrong – part of me hates him for what he did to my family, and if he wasn’t remorseful, I wouldn’t care how many cards he sent. But if his words are to be believed, he’s a different man now. God knows I can’t judge anyone who has made mistakes and got better.’
‘But how was your mum to know for sure? Why would she risk letting an abusive partner back into all your lives again? And weren’t your problems starting to get bad by the time you were eighteen? How could she have dropped this bombshell about your dad when you were so out of control?’
Emma stared into her lap. ‘But I can’t help thinking that if I’d seen those cards, I would never have ended up on the streets.’
