| S: | How are you, Hannah? It’s been a while since our last session, hasn’t it? |
| H: | Yes, it has. I didn’t feel like I needed to see you again until now, Sally. Things have been going well. Really well, actually. |
| S: | That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. Such fantastic news about your book deal, by the way. |
| H: | Thanks. I appreciate that. |
| S: | So what’s changed to bring you back to see me again? |
| H: | Last Friday my sister Diane turned up out of the blue – without any warning at all – after all those years of no contact. It’s totally messed my head up again. For a start, she left her fourteen-year-old daughter Mia behind when she left. The last time I saw her she was a toddler. |
| S: | Your niece is staying with you? |
| H: | Yes, I don’t know for how long. Diane begged me and Mark to take her in for a few days while she sorted some things out, whatever that means. She wouldn’t elaborate. |
| S: | And how do you feel about it all? |
| H: | I feel anxious. Seeing Diane again has brought back memories of how I became after we fell out and then she moved away. I’m afraid of having another breakdown; of losing everything I’ve rebuilt in her absence. |
| S: | It’s only normal to feel that way in the circumstances, Hannah, but it’s an emotional response rather than a rational one. There’s no foundation for such fears. You need to have confidence in the strong, successful, confident woman I see before me. You’re not the person you once were. The past is gone and all that remains is who you are right now. Yes? |
| H: | Yes. |
| S: | And that is? |
| H: | Someone strong, successful and confident. |
| S: | Exactly. So tell me about Mia. |
| H: | It’s been good to see her. I spent a lot of time with her when she was little, before they moved to Bournemouth, and I missed her terribly afterwards. But she’s so different now. She might as well be another person altogether. I remember reading bedtime stories to her, taking her for walks in her buggy and feeding the ducks. But she has no memory of me at all. I don’t know where to begin with her. I’m not sure she even likes me much. The two of us were alone in the apartment today for the first time and she spent most of that shut in her bedroom. |
| S: | Where’s Mia now? |
| H: | At home with Mark. I didn’t want to leave her alone yet, which was why this late appointment was ideal. Thank goodness you had a cancellation. |
| S: | I’m glad this has worked out for you. And Diane? What was your initial reaction when she turned up on your doorstep unannounced? Was any part of you glad to see her? |
| H: | Glad? Not really. Shocked, perplexed, anxious: those are more suitable words to describe how I felt. I knew she’d want something, because that’s Diane all over. I guessed it would be money, but instead it was about us looking after Mia. I doubt I’d have agreed to much else; I think Diane knew Mia would be my weak spot, based on how much I doted on her when she was a young child. |
| S: | I recall from our previous chats that you never expected Diane to reach out to you. Now that she has, do you think this could be the start of a healing process? |
| H: | Hmm. She may have made contact after all these years, but I don’t think it was with a view to patching things up between us. I got the impression she was out of other options. As soon as we’d agreed to look after Mia, she was gone: off to deal with whatever mess she’s got herself into. |
| S: | And what do you think that mess might be? |
| H: | After more than a decade apart, I honestly don’t know. She got very upset when she asked for our help – tears and everything. They seemed genuine, although Diane’s always been good at manipulating people and situations. I found out earlier that she’s barely been in contact with Mia since leaving her here in Manchester, which seems totally strange to me. |
| S: | I see. So in what ways was Diane manipulative in the past, Hannah? |
| H: | There were several occasions, before our falling-out, when I felt like she used my affection for Mia to her advantage, as she has now really. I used to act as a free babysitter all the time, for instance, usually while she went out partying. Mostly I didn’t mind, because I loved being with my niece, particularly since I’ve never had any children of my own. But sometimes it did feel like she was abusing that bond. |
| S: | Can you be more specific? |
| H: | Sure. The example that springs to mind was on my wedding anniversary one year. Mark and I both had the day off work and were planning a walk in the Peak District followed by a slap-up meal in the city centre. Then I received a call from Diane first thing that morning, saying Mia had diarrhoea and couldn’t go to nursery. She was in a panic, since she had some important course on at work that day, which she didn’t feel like she could miss. I agreed that Mark and I would step in to look after Mia, which wasn’t much fun, since she pretty much cried and pooed the whole time. It definitely wasn’t the special day we’d planned. Anyway, at least we still had the meal out to look forward to, until Diane managed to ruin that. Rather than getting home on time, as you’d expect, she didn’t roll up until nearly seven-thirty that evening, by which point we’d missed our reservation and were too worn out to bother doing anything else. She’d been to the pub with her colleagues, believe it or not, and blamed not being in touch on her phone battery having died. |
| S: | She was drunk when she got back, despite her daughter being ill? |
| H: | Oh no, she hadn’t been drinking. She was in the car. But I couldn’t believe she’d gone at all, knowing Mia was unwell and it was our anniversary. Not much of a thank-you for our help, was it? She claimed to have been pressured into it by her boss, but I didn’t believe a word. What kind of manager would insist a mum went to the pub in that situation? Plus she could’ve called us from the office or someone else’s phone to at least give us a heads-up. No, she went to the pub because she wanted to; because she’s selfish. Mark and I were both fuming. But somehow, a few weeks later, she had me babysitting again. I loved spending time with Mia. I figured she was the closest thing I’d ever have to a daughter, which was why it hit me so hard when Diane took her away from me and moved down south. |
| S: | Why do you think Diane turned to you rather than someone else on that particular occasion? Why not your parents, for example? |
| H: | They weren’t living locally by that point. They’d moved to Southport and had enough on their plates dealing with Mum’s cancer. Since Mia’s father has never been in the picture, I was the only other family Diane could ask to help. She manipulated our parents too, though, just in different ways. |
| S: | Perhaps you could expand on that last point, Hannah. It sounds like something that’s bothered you. |
| H: | Um, yeah. I guess so. I don’t know what Diane’s relationship with our father is like nowadays, but after she had Mia I felt like she relied on Mum and Dad giving her cash handouts far more than she ought to have done. She was excellent at playing the struggling single mum card. Then she’d think nothing of going out and splurging however much on a load of new outfits for herself. Growing up, Diane was the one always getting in trouble – receiving detentions and poor grades at school; staying out past curfew – while I worked hard and did what I was told. Because of this, Diane used to tell me I was Mum and Dad’s favourite, which I probably started to believe. But as adults, things seemed to switch around for us. It was assumed, since both Mark and I had decent jobs, that I was fine on my own, while Diane needed their support: financially and emotionally. And then she gave them their only grandchild, which reinforced the situation. |
| S: | Would you say you were jealous of this? |
| H: | I suppose so. It felt unfair, like she was being rewarded for getting herself into a mess. It was never really about money. Mark and I have always been fortunate enough not to need help. It was the principle of the matter. I felt Diane was manipulating Mum and Dad: taking advantage of their kindness and generosity; their blind love for their granddaughter. Meanwhile, she refused to tell anyone who Mia’s father was or to ask him to do his bit. Plus, when Mum got really ill, Diane would use Mia as an excuse for why she couldn’t go over and help out, leaving me and Dad to do the heavy lifting. But the way she talked after Mum died, you’d have thought it was her always driving over there, helping with the shopping and cleaning; tending to Mum’s needs; teaching Dad how to cook. She had the big advantage of being able to show up with Mia, which always trumped anything I could do. Sorry, I sound like a jealous idiot now. I’m probably making the situation out to be worse than it was, but I guess her reappearance has dug it all up again. |
| S: | So you felt unappreciated? |
| H: | Sometimes, yes. I’d be over there in Southport, helping out however I could, and all they’d talk about would be whatever issue Diane had at that particular moment: how there was a leak in her roof, for example, or an issue with one of the staff at Mia’s nursery. There was always something. Poor Mum was dying. The last thing she needed was to be worrying about Diane. My sister has always been perfectly capable of looking after herself. She’s also incredibly adept at making herself the centre of attention. It was the same after our mother died. Diane made a big play of her grief, particularly at the funeral, as if to suggest she had a closer bond with her than anyone else. She wouldn’t stop telling people how awful it was to have to watch a parent die such a slow and painful death; how she wouldn’t wish that on her worst enemy. She kept recounting a conversation they’d had near the end, where Mum had apparently said she would have done anything to spare her the pain of watching her fade away. To me it felt like Diane trying to give people the impression she was always the one there at Mum’s side, which simply wasn’t true. |
| S: | Is there any chance that the reason Diane avoided visiting near the end was because she found it so difficult to watch your mother die? |
| H: | Hmm. That’s not how it felt at the time. |
| S: | Everyone deals with death differently, Hannah. Don’t take this the wrong way – I’m playing devil’s advocate – but is it possible that your view of the situation might be coloured by your subsequent falling-out with your sister? |
| H: | I honestly don’t know. Maybe. |
| S: | In terms of each of your relationships with your parents, do you think Diane remembers things the same way as you do? With pairs of siblings, it’s not uncommon for both to consider the other to be the parents’ favourite. I’m not saying this is true in your case, but some parents deliberately play their children off against one another. |
| H: | Possibly, I guess. Like I said, she definitely thought of me being favoured when we were children. She often used to call me a goody two-shoes or a swat; she’d moan to Mum and Dad that they were tougher on her than me. Once we were adults, I’ve no idea what they told her out of my earshot, but I suppose they might have bugged her about following my example and settling down with a nice man. They certainly used to bother me about giving them another grandchild, although Mark and I had made it very clear this wasn’t on the cards. |
| S: | Did that upset you? |
| H: | What? That it wasn’t on the cards or that Mum and Dad nagged me about it? |
| S: | This is your session, Hannah. You should focus on whatever you feel to be most relevant. |
| H: | Um, I’m not sure. We’ve spoken before about me and Mark not having children, haven’t we? It wasn’t my initial preference, but I accepted it a long time ago. I chose my husband. I suppose it did grate a bit when Mum and Dad used to bring it up though, like rubbing salt into a wound. |
| S: | Wound. That’s an interesting word choice. It suggests you hadn’t fully come to terms with your decision at that point. |
| H: | Well, no. I can’t disagree with that. There were times when it was hard, especially after Mia was born; even when Diane was pregnant. It reminded me what could have been. What I was missing out on. |
| S: | And now, having Mia back in your life as a teenager? Do you have those feelings again? |
| H: | Um, it’s not quite the same as when she was little. Being around babies often seems to trigger something, I don’t know … biological? That broody feeling. Whatever, it’s different with a fourteen-year-old. When I’ve looked at my niece these last few days, I’ve often found myself feeling sad; regretting all those years of her life I’ve missed out on. It’s most of her childhood. That’s not something I’ll ever get back. |
| S: | Does that make you angry at Diane for taking her away? |
| H: | Definitely. |