| S: | Hello, Hannah. How are you today? |
| H: | Not too bad, thanks. I got some work done on my next book this morning, so I’m in a good mood about that. It’s been difficult getting down to it since Mia’s been staying with us. |
| S: | She must be impressed that her aunt will soon be a published author. |
| H: | Hmm. This is going to sound strange, Sally, but I haven’t actually told her yet. |
| S: | I see. Why’s that? |
| H: | It just hasn’t come up, although Mark and I have already discussed this and I’m going to tell her really soon – before it gets weird. |
| S: | Has something been holding you back? |
| H: | Yes, although it’s less about Mia and more about Diane, I think. I was a big reader when we were growing up and she wasn’t. She used to make fun of me for constantly having my nose in a book. It was another excuse to call me a swat. Plus she’d make comments about how I ought to get some real friends rather than the imaginary ones I read about. That kind of thing. She saw reading as a waste of time. |
| S: | What about your dream of becoming a writer? |
| H: | Hmm. I tried to avoid discussing that with Diane, knowing it would be something else for her to make fun of me about. I remember we both went on a school trip to London once. I must have been thirteen or fourteen. In the coach on the way down, I discovered she’d stolen a short story I’d written at home and was passing it around her friends, getting them all to laugh at it. It was a typical soppy teenage effort about unrequited love, inspired by some of the romantic novels I’d been reading at the time. Of course that made it – and me – an easy target for ridicule. I was mortified. It ruined my whole trip. I couldn’t believe my own sister would do something so mean. I didn’t speak to her for nearly a week after that. |
| S: | I see. So Diane doesn’t know about your book deal either? |
| H: | Not to my knowledge. |
| S: | And you’re hesitant to tell Mia because you know that will lead to Diane finding out about it? |
| H: | I suppose so. Part of me wants her to know – to prove her wrong for mocking my early writing attempts. But I’m also afraid she’ll find a way to ruin it for me, or at least take the shine off my achievement. The big irony is that Mia’s a bookworm. She’s mad keen on reading, just like I was at her age. Loving books is something we share, which we can talk about together. It’s not like we have much else. Mia has no memory whatsoever of all the times we spent together when she was little. We do have Diane in common, of course, but that’s a can of worms I’d rather not open, bearing in mind the dilapidated state of my relationship with my sister. Anyway, I’m going to tell Mia. Mark’s away tonight, so I’m planning to take her out for dinner. That should provide us with a good opportunity to have a decent chat. |
| S: | How’s having Mia as a guest working out in practical terms? |
| H: | Well, I’m far from an expert on modern teenagers. However, I can now tell you that this particular fourteen-year-old sleeps a lot, spends an awfully long time in the bathroom, keeps a messy bedroom, and has a selective memory when it comes to domestic dos and don’ts, like remembering to hang up her wet towel after showering. I have Mark pretty well trained, so my niece’s less disciplined ways can be a challenge to my sense of order. But I could probably do with learning to be more flexible anyway. Plus living with us is a big change for Mia too. Overall, it’s great to have the chance to get to know her again. My main worry at the beginning was that she’d be bored with only adults for company, but she’s made a friend: Todd, the grandson of my neighbour Kathy. I feel that’s taken the pressure off a bit. I don’t need to worry so much about entertaining her, and I get more time to work, like this morning. Still, it’s hard not to worry when she goes out and about without me or Mark to watch over her, knowing she’s our responsibility at the moment. I guess this is how it feels to be a parent. |
| S: | What about Mark? As someone who’s never wanted children, how’s he finding it? |
| H: | Good question. You know what men are like. They don’t tend to give much away about their feelings – and Mark’s no exception. Obviously he’s out at work a lot of the time, but when he is around, he’s pretty good with her. They’re into some of the same films and TV shows – mainly sci-fi and superhero stuff that doesn’t really appeal to me – but it gives them something to talk about. I actually think Mia’s more comfortable around him than me. I worry that she doesn’t like me; that Diane’s poisoned her mind against me. |
| S: | Has Mia said anything to give you that impression? |
| H: | No, but … she plays her cards close to her chest. Our relationship now is so different from when I last knew her. As a toddler, her eyes used to light up when I paid a visit. She’d run over to me and wrap her arms tight around my legs, telling me how much she’d missed me. And then she’d cry when I had to go home, begging me to stay just for a few more minutes. I loved playing with her and her dolls and toys. She was always so creative, allocating character roles even when we played hide and seek. So one of us would be the princess and the other the wicked witch. Or a fluffy bunny and a hungry crocodile. We had so much fun together. I felt like we had a wonderful bond and … it’s hard sometimes that she doesn’t recall any of that. |
| S: | I understand. But don’t forget that Diane chose to leave her in your care, which can’t have been an easy decision considering the state of your relationship. Don’t you think that might be because you once had that strong bond with Mia? It’s not something your sister will have forgotten, is it? |
| H: | Maybe. I’d not thought of it that way. I just don’t know what to make of the whole visit, because – typical Diane – it’s all so vague and up in the air. I still don’t know the real reason why she’s left Mia here or for how long it’s going to be. And if I’m totally honest, part of me is scared to get too close to Mia for fear that my sister will eventually take her away again and stop me seeing her. You know what that did to me on the last occasion. I don’t think I could cope with it a second time. |
| S: | There you go, underestimating yourself again. Remember: strong, successful, confident. What are you? |
| H: | Strong, successful and confident. |
| S: | Good. Look what you’ve achieved with your writing, Hannah. There was a time when you didn’t believe yourself capable of that, remember. But you proved you can achieve anything you put your mind to, didn’t you? |
| H: | I guess so. |
| S: | I know so. Have you tried contacting Diane to get some specifics about Mia’s stay? |
| H: | Yes, but she’s not making it easy. Even Mia is struggling to get hold of her. I don’t know what’s going on. That’s one of the reasons Mark is away tonight. He’s flown to Southampton for work and this evening he’s going to take the train to Bournemouth to try to speak to her. |
| S: | I see. That sounds like a positive step. Hopefully you’ll get some answers. |
| H: | I’m not holding my breath. |
| S: | Maybe you should consider giving your sister a chance. I was looking back through some transcripts of our earlier sessions. When I asked you why you weren’t prepared to reach out to Diane to try to resolve your conflict, you said: ‘It’s always me who gives in. It’s never her, because she thinks she’s always in the right. Well, I’m not doing that any more. Diane can be the one to reach out this time. Otherwise, we’re done.’ Do you remember saying that? |
| H: | Vaguely. It’s true what I said about Diane anyway. She’s never been one for apologising or holding out an olive branch. Even after she humiliated me on that school trip to London, I don’t recall her ever saying sorry. She didn’t see what she’d done wrong. It was just having a laugh, as far as she was concerned; I needed to lighten up. On that occasion, it was me who decided to start speaking to her again eventually, mainly because it was easier than staying angry. |
| S: | Didn’t your parents have anything to say about it? |
| H: | I don’t think I told them what had happened. It would have just given Diane another excuse to call me a goody-goody and moan about how Mum and Dad always took my side. |
| S: | Would you say there’s ever been a time when the pair of you got on well? |
| H: | Good question. We’ve always had our differences – our rivalries and jealousies – and I wouldn’t claim we’ve ever been best friends. That definitely wasn’t the case at secondary school, when we seemed to go from one spat to another. Not long after the London trip incident, for example, she stole a boy from me. It was a guy she’d never shown any interest in previously, who she suddenly pursued and then went out with for a few weeks after I’d happened to mention that I liked him. It was clearly just to get one up on me, like in sixth form when she heard I was auditioning for a school production of Romeo and Juliet, so she became interested too. And guess what? She ended up bagging the lead role, while I had to settle for playing her mother. Diane had never displayed any affection for Shakespeare or acting before that show – and she never did again, which says enough. Things did improve as we got older, though, and were no longer living and spending so much time together. After Mia was born, I’d go so far as to say we got on pretty well for a while. That was probably us at our best before Mum got really ill and things started to go the opposite way. |
| S: | Interesting, particularly in light of what you said in our last session about Diane taking advantage of your fondness for your niece and relying too heavily on your parents’ generosity around that period. |
| H: | Yes, those feelings came later. Initially, after I got over my jealousy that she had a child and I didn’t, there was a kind of honeymoon period. If I couldn’t be a mother, I decided to make the absolute most of being an aunt, so the three of us spent a lot of time together, especially while Diane was on maternity leave. |
| S: | Could that perhaps be something to work towards again? |
| H: | Not likely. It was a fleeting period of harmony. I can’t see us ever getting back to that now. We’ve been out of each other’s lives for well over a decade. But … I must admit that you do have a point about Diane making the first move towards reconciliation. Even if it was to ask a big favour of me, I ought to recognise the fact that she reached out. It must have been hard for her. For so long now I’ve hardened my heart to the idea of us ever making up. I’ve basically written her out of my life. But maybe I ought to at least rethink that. Perhaps I should give my sister a chance, for Mia’s sake if nothing else. The idea terrifies me, though, because it leaves me vulnerable. Diane hurt me so badly last time. How do I know she won’t do it again? |
| S: | You don’t. Not for sure. But if you close yourself off to new possibilities due to fear, then fear wins. Why not try instead to believe in yourself and your ability to deal with whatever life throws at you, including the bad stuff? That way you get to remain open to opportunities that might really improve your quality of life. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s normal and healthy. But allowing your fear to control you will never make you happy. |
| H: | The thing is, Sally, I was happy with my life before Diane came back into it. |
| S: | Great. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t be even happier, does it? And even if things don’t work out with her, she can’t take that happiness you’ve already achieved away from you – not if you don’t let her. You’re the one who controls that, right? |
| H: | I suppose I am. |