Read Online Almost Perfect by Dianne Blacklock - Free Book Online

Rachel were apparently characters in an American sitcom.
    Now, clearly, it was going to be books.
    â€˜The yoghurt metaphor was what really got me,’ Magda continued. ‘I mean, this is one clever writer, this woman. How did she come up with the idea that life is like a fridge full of tubs of yoghurt?’
    The mind boggled.
    â€˜You see, we think we have choices, but it’s all so bland, so much the same, just like the fridge full of yoghurt. And yoghurt itself, well, it’s a little sour, or tart or whatever, especially plain yoghurt. It’s good for us, but not very tasty really, eh? We usually add something to it, or buy the flavoured kind. But of course in the book, it’s all plain yoghurt. Different brands though, which is a statement about the market-driven society.’ Magda threw her arms out. ‘Brilliant!’
    Anna took a deep breath and cleared her throat. ‘It’s wonderful to find something that speaks to you in such a profound way, and we should be open and alert to all the signs life sends us,’ she said on automatic pilot. ‘So how do you think this relates to your own life at present?’
    â€˜And what was her response?’ Doug asked, clearly amused by another instalment of the whimsical Magda chronicles.
    â€˜Oh that just sent her off into a lengthy spiel about the pervading themes in the book. I’m sure she was repeating verbatim what was said at herbook club – a few of the ideas were way beyond her intellect.’
    â€˜Have you read Duck Egg Blue ?’
    Anna shook her head, taking a sip of her coffee.
    â€˜I wouldn’t bother,’ Doug advised. ‘It’s a piece of pretentious twaddle. All the reviewers are breathlessly trying to outdo each other heaping praise on it, but I tend to think it’s a case of the emperor’s new book jacket.’ He shifted in his chair, clearly signalling a shift in the conversation as well. Anna had learned to read Doug’s body language over the years. He was the reason she had never considered leaving the practice, and the reason she had decided to join it when they came to Sydney in the first place. He and Carl had started the clinic, but Carl had always divided his time between clients and teaching. Doug was the soul of the place, and Anna aspired to his particular style of quiet but insightful compassion.
    â€˜So, how are you?’ he asked eventually. People said those three words all the time, often many times a day, and mostly they couldn’t care less about the response, they were probably not even listening. When Doug said them, he was listening, and he cared, and he expected nothing less than a meaningful answer in return.
    â€˜Okay.’ Why did she even bother?
    â€˜Let’s try that again,’ he persisted gently.
    Anna sighed. ‘Not so good.’
    â€˜Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?’
    She put her cup on the coffee table between them and brought her feet up underneath her.Supervision provided the opportunity to debrief with a more senior practitioner. Therapy was monitored, approaches discussed and treatment assessed. But it was also in itself a kind of counselling session.
    â€˜Well, I’m sure you’ve worked out that I failed again.’
    â€˜Are you saying it was another failed cycle?’
    Anna looked up at the ceiling. ‘Okay, I know what you’re getting at. It’s not my failure.’
    â€˜You don’t believe that though, do you?’
    She met his gaze directly. ‘Of course not.’
    Doug sat back in his chair, regarding her thoughtfully. ‘And anything Mac says, or the doctors say, or even that I could say, is not going to convince you otherwise, is it?’
    She shook her head. ‘The evidence is stacked against me, Doug. Despite a husband with an impressive sperm count, a truckload of drugs, I can’t remember how many laparoscopies, six intra-uterine inseminations,