Home is a strange space without Noah. And now, a week before they visit him for the first time, Kate and Dominic have a meeting with Ms Turner. ‘Not too a long session,’ she says over the phone. ‘Just to get you up to speed about Noah and how he’s doing. It’s a good idea for us to have a chat.’
Chat. Such an inoffensive word, but for Kate it’s loaded.
Ms Turner has a pleasant face. She is not threatening. Yet Kate finds her so. All that learning, all those ideas bundled into that pretty head, living behind those pretty brown eyes, waiting to be spoken by that wide, generous mouth. All her degrees and qualifications framed and sitting behind glass. Any moment now, she’s going to open her mouth and further shatter Kate’s world.
The blame will all be on her. She’s the one who brought up the children while Dominic worked morning, noon and large parts of the night. To provide for the family, he said, but Kate knew better. What better place than work when you don’t want to be at home? What better excuse than the need to provide for your family when you don’t want to spend any decent length of time with them? Breakfast-and-sometimes-supper Dad. And over the weekend, when he isn’t running or holed up in his study, two-hours-on-a-Saturday and sometimes two-on-a-Sunday Dad.
So the children have always been Kate’s responsibility. That’s all she’s had to do, and without messing it up. The words were never spoken, but they might as well have been, because that’s what Kate knows she’s done. All she had to do was look after her house and her children and she couldn’t even get that right.
Now she’s sitting on the comfortable couch, staring at prints, probably from the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens, and words are coming out of Ms Turner’s mouth. ‘OCD never quite goes away,’ she’s saying. ‘It’s a chronic condition that can definitely be managed with the right treatment, but there is always a chance that it might reappear, perhaps in a different form. That’s why it’s so important that we make the best possible use of this time and teach Noah how to recognise his warning signs and symptoms. It might be necessary for him to return to therapy from time to time.’
Dominic tenses. His neck stiffens, his spine straightens. He’s ready to go into battle, but Kate can’t allow that, not when she has worked so hard, pleaded with Dominic, begged him to come with her to Ms Turner’s rooms for this last session of her day, one that allows him to stay at work as long as possible, one that doesn’t interrupt his morning or the early afternoon.
Kate does what she always does. She lays a hand on Dominic’s forearm. He looks down blankly, as if some strange, tentacled sea creature has made its way to shore. She keeps it there until his arm relaxes and his shoulders drop. Ms Turner’s voice filters back through.
‘I know it’s difficult,’ she’s saying, with a smile.
Kate tries to smile back, but she can’t.
‘And this might seem even more difficult,’ Ms Turner’s saying, ‘especially with all that’s happened lately, but I have a small exercise for all of you to try.’
Dominic tenses up again.
‘Sometimes,’ Ms Turner says, ‘it’s helpful to remember the good times. The times when you laughed together, as a family, as a couple. Good times with Noah.’