Read Online The Perfection of Love by J. L. Monro - Free Book Online Page B

and take a seat.  You don’t have to join in and speak but it’s polite to at least introduce yourself so that the ladies who do want to share at least know who they’re talking to.”  She wandered back to her seat and then rang a little bell, I guess to let everyone else know to take their seats. 
     
    I took my seat and looked at everyone sitting in the group.  If some of these women were abused then I couldn’t tell.  There were others though, I could see the scars.  I could also see some cuts that had not yet healed.  Many of them had their hands in their laps wringing their fingers and were looking decisively nervous.  Maybe I wasn’t the only first timer here but I wasn’t like them, I had a stronger character than them.  I looked down to see my hands alternating between squeezing themselves to the point that you could see my blood draining away and picking at my already chipped nail polish.  No. I was nothing like them at all.
     
    The session began and we all introduced ourselves.  I always hated this part of group sessions no matter what the point of the group was.  All eyes on you for sixty seconds.  The session progressed with most of the women having something to say but not all.  I listened intently to the stories.  Some had it not so bad as me and some had had it a lot worse.  The most fucked up thing was the mental abuse they all suffered.  Correct that. WE had suffered.  Men were shits.  Apart from Pops, Joe and Jacob, I never wanted another man to step foot into my life in any way, shape or form.
     
    At the end of the session Amanda came up to me.  “How did you find out about us?”
     
    “A friend of mine made some enquiries I guess.”
     
    “How did you find it?”
     
    “Um, that’s a good question.  It was good to hear so many different stories.  I guess it puts my own life into a bit more perspective.  Would you believe I did a degree in psychology and I still couldn’t sort my own head out to get away from my situation earlier.”
     
    “It’s difficult for us to be objective when it involves our own emotions.  Are you going to continue to come to the sessions?”
     
    “I’m not sure.  I have a lot of respect for these women but the whole group share thing is not me.”
     
    “I do private sessions with women as well.  Some of the women here go.  Unfortunately those are not free but I do think you would benefit from talking things through with someone.  It might help you understand more why things in your relationship were the way they were.  Here’s my card.”  Amanda gave me a small hug and returned to the small huddle of women that still remained in the room.
     
    I called her the next day to arrange a private session with her and saw her for eighteen months every week.  The sessions helped me to understand both Mitchell and myself but I couldn’t help still feeling like Mitchell had ruined a large part of me.  After finishing with Amanda I decided that I was going to channel my work into helping more women out there.  There wasn’t enough support and if I could give back half of what she had done for me then someone would benefit.  And sometimes when we help others, we help ourselves.
    ****
    “I think you’ll find we’re at the end of the tour for today Dr Greenwood.  Tomorrow we can look at some more of the facilities especially the ICT suites as those will be used for a lot of our work.”  I stopped by the university reception to usher him through the door and away from me as quickly as possible.
     
    Deacon for a second looked baffled.  Guess he wasn’t expecting my icy turn on him but once again he was smiling with seconds.
     
    “Until tomorrow, Miss. Daniels.  Oh, and by the way, did I mention I absolutely love conundrums.”  This time it was me looking baffled.  He winked and turned and walked through the door.  Rat bastard.  How dare he wink at me!  I walked back to my office and grabbed my bag and coat.  I was done