Chim - Traffic

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The following two nights, Cheryl has more nightmares, and allowed me to stay with her for longer than three minutes after the last one. I'm in the kitchen making breakfast when she appears, already dressed, a simple button shirt bulging out slight over the bandages covering her healing surgery scars. We share half a bacon sandwich each, the most Cheryl has eaten since coming home, and I'm washing the plate when the doorbell rings, announcing Sarah's arrival.

"I'll get it." Cheryl says, leaving the room. I had asked the blonde to join us so Cheryl wouldn't be alone while I was having my session, and luckily she was free. That afternoon, Cheryl was also having her stitches removed, so she was taking us to the hospital before dropping us back home.

"Hey Kimmie, you ready to go?" She hugs me from the side as I dry my soapy hands.

"Yeah, just about." I pull on my shoes, going into the hall to retrieve my coat and finding Cheryl stood there, staring at the car on the other side of the gate.

"I'll be waiting outside." Sarah says, tactfully leaving the house.

I move to stand in front of Cheryl, who already has her jacket on, drawing her gaze to me. "We'll go slow, ok? One step at a time."

She nods hesitantly, taking my hand and giving a light squeeze, which I return. Thirty seconds later, we're in Sarah's car, and Cheryl, although breathing quickly, showed no signs of breaking down. She keeps her hand in mine as we get closer to central London, her grip tightening the busier the streets get. We eventually reach the clinic, and it takes her a few minutes to compose herself before going inside. As I'm giving our names to the receptionist I turn to her.

"You're doing so well. I'm proud of you." She returns my smile with a small one of her own, her eyes sweeping over the waiting room and patients. The three of us seat ourselves as near to Deborah's office as we can, and as Sarah picks up a magazine to read, I address Cheryl.

"You'll be going in first, and I'll be right out here waiting. Remember, if you want to stop the session, you can, at any time." She nods, listening to me, and then the door opens, the counsellor calling Cheryl's name. She gives my hand a final squeeze before releasing her grip and heading inside the room. When the session is over, she returns, crying, but I barely have time to react before Deborah calls me into the room.

"Kimberley, it's nice to see you again. How are you?" I sit myself opposite her before opening my mouth, letting everything I've built up inside me for four and a half months out, and by the time I'm finished, I am also crying.

"So, when Cheryl withdraws from you, how does that make you feel?"

"Awful. All I want to do is help her, and I don't know how."

"I think you are helping her, more than you already know. Just by you being there, available for Cheryl to come to if she wants to, is very important."

"I just want her to talk to me. To tell me how I can help her."

"She will, in her own time."

The rest of the session continues much the same way, with Deborah advising me that Cheryl had been given an eating plan, as I had months earlier, should she neglect to give it to me. She schedules Cheryl for three sessions a week, and me for two, before I leave. When I get outside, Cheryl has stopped crying, but her eyes are still bloodshot, and she takes my hand again. Once we're back in Sarah's car she produces her eating plan, I scan over it before folding it back up and putting it in my bag.

"She wants me to start keeping a diary." Cheryl says.

"Ok, we have a few notebooks at home you can use." I reply, and she falls silent, still holding my hand. When we get to the hospital, she is nervous, and I watch as she uses breathing exercises to calm her down. Once we're inside, sat waiting for the second time today, I speak.