Under Her Roof by A. A. Chaudhuri

Author:A. A. Chaudhuri [Chaudhuri, A. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Adriana

Before

‘So how have things been since we last met, Adriana? Are you getting on OK at your new school?’

This is my fourth session with Dr Adams, and I have to admit the atmosphere feels different to when I first came to see him. For one, I feel different. Less suspicious, less hostile, less angry with the world at large. The art therapy classes he suggested I take have helped calm my mind despite me being cynical about the whole idea at first. I’ve got so much joy out of them, literally cannot wait for the weekly session to come around. I’m still not sure I’m any good, but what matters is that they make me happy. Dr Adams said at the end of our first meeting that he understood how I might find it hard to express my emotions in words, was perhaps too afraid to, and therefore art would be a good alternative way for me to do this, deal with my grief and move forward in a positive fashion.

I’ve always loved to paint and draw, ever since I was a little girl. But my parents were never interested in my artistic pursuits. Even when my mother did spare a few seconds to look at what I’d proudly present to her, hoping and praying for a word of encouragement, any kind word at all really, she’d either sneer and say it was crap or tell me to get on with my chores. And so, after a time, I gave up.

‘Yes, fine thank you,’ I say. ‘I’ve made some new friends. The teachers are very kind and supportive. But I think the main thing that’s made a difference is Aunt Georgie and Uncle Philip. They’ve been amazing. And I love living with them. To be honest, I feel the happiest I’ve ever been. So safe and secure.’

I stop talking. Conscious I may have overshared. He’s a shrink after all. It’s his job to read between the lines. I’m not a baby, I’m nearly fifteen; I’m not stupid either, no matter what my mother used to say. I know what he’s thinking.

‘Did you not feel safe and secure before you came to live with your aunt and uncle, Adriana?’

And there it is. I let my guard down for two seconds and he’s all over it like a rash. But perhaps that’s a little unfair. After all, he’s a nice person. What harm can there be in me confiding in him? It’s not like he can tell anyone else what I say in confidence. Not even my aunt and uncle. Maybe I’ll feel better getting it off my chest.

I bite my lip.

‘You know whatever you tell me, Adriana, won’t go beyond these four walls,’ he says. ‘All I want to do is help you. You’ve made a lot of progress in a short time; you seem a lot calmer, more stable. But I can’t help thinking you won’t be able to fully move on if you don’t tell someone what’s troubling you.

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