"So, when – June was dying. At the end. When – you know, she only had a shorter bit of time – left." Eleanor looked down at her hands. "Ummmm." She paused as she thought back on it in a way she had not for many years. Tried to think of it, order it, in a way that was cohesive enough to form a narrative. "When she was under hospice care, it wasn't okay. I mean, of course nothing was okay. But you know, she of course wasn't okay at all." Eleanor sat back and tried to collect herself and find a way to move forward with the telling.
"She was really bad. She felt awful. All the time. It was really hard for her. But you know she was still sort of able to eat and drink, and so they said she was, like, going to go on for a while. And – she didn't want to - to keep going. I could tell. I mean, she told me, too. And Mummy and Dad. But that wasn't something that was going to happen, something - that would happen." Eleanor shook her head vehemently.
"And she told me how it was bad, and she how she hated it. She asked me – she pleaded with me - if I would help her. You know." Vivian did not indicate she did, and Eleanor had to continued. "Like - end things."
"And I couldn't. I just couldn't. I knew our parents didn't want it. And I didn't know if it was right – like the right thing to do. June said I could do it, that I could do anything. But she also said she understood that I wouldn't. And that was okay with her. She was really nice about it. She said she could see how hard it was for me. And she kept smiling up at me, still, and I kept telling her I was sorry. For everything."
"So she kept going, like I said. For another couple weeks. And it was really hard, and she was hurting all the time. And then things sped up all of a sudden. And it was over. But it was really hard for her, those weeks. And I'm really sorry I didn't help her. That I couldn't be strong for her, like she asked me to."
Eleanor slumped back in her armchair, exhausted. She swiped at her eyes with a tissue.
Finally, reaction from Vivian. She raised her eyebrows. "That's a lot, Eleanor. That's a lot for anyone at any age to handle and cope with. But at sixteen – you would have been completely unprepared for something like that. And it's perfectly understandable that without the right help, all of those feelings snowballed over time."
It was clear for anyone to see that Eleanor still hadn't healed, hadn't started the process even. She'd almost felt present in first person during the telling. Clearly she hadn't even yet woven an adult narrative of the experience.
Eleanor nodded. "Yes."
"Why do you think you weren't strong for your sister. And by that I mean, how do you feel that you weren't being strong in your support of her?"
"Because I couldn't help her in the way she'd asked for it. I was weak, then, when I was younger."
"There's a couple things there I want to talk about." Vivian uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. The older woman was thin, tall, and it was an elegant gesture of reconsideration. "First, it sounds to me that June accepted and understood your decision - and was more concerned that you understood that it was fine with her."
"Of course she'd say it was fine. June was quite kind. Always. That's how I remember her."
"So you don't believe she was being truthful?"
Eleanor was silent. Vivian let it sit with her a while, and moved forward.
"And why do you say you were a 'weak' person when you were younger? It seems to me you were quite strong in many ways."
"The suicide attempt at University. It's not something to be proud of, of course. It doesn't make me feel like a strong person. I understand why I did what I did. What was going on then. But I'm still ashamed of who I was. I'm ashamed of what I did. Even though I'm proud to be who I am now. After all, it's not something you bring up at cocktail parties. There's a reason for that. People judge you."
"You have grown stronger. But I'm still not sure why you characterize yourself as weak at any point."
"I think Emma used to talk about it that way. And it stuck."
"Ah. I'm going to challenge you again on thinking of yourself as weak. As someone who should be ashamed of herself. Say you spoke to a friend who had a similar experience as you. Perhaps someone you work with. Would you think of him or her as weak?"
Eleanor shook her head.
"And if that person asked you for help, or, rather, had the strength to admit when they needed it, and asked for help, would you judge them, and say no? Tell them they ought to be able to figure it out on their own - 'be stronger'?'"
Eleanor shook her head again.
Both women paused. It had been a long time since Eleanor had done work of this nature with Vivian, and she needed a breath. The other woman watched her, let her collect herself and continued.
"And your parents don't know about any of this? About June, your suicide attempt, or your stay at the hospital in London?"
"No."
"And you think it's time to tell them?"
"Yes." Yes - and no. Margaret and Emma would likely tow the same line on the whole weak proposition. But Jonathan - and Caroline. And the girls. They should know.
"I have to say I agree, Eleanor. I think talking to people about this, to your family, is going to help. A lot. Do you know your next steps? Are you ready for this?"
Eleanor smiled. It backed with was nervous reflex, and fear. "I'm in no way ready. But I will be."
"And what do you intend to say to Caroline? What will you be telling her?"
"I'm going to tell her all of it. Everything. Somehow. I don't know exactly how, yet. But I'm going to ask her to forgive me. I don't have the right to expect anything from her – " she glanced up and reframed her thought. She had garnered her own ability to read Vivian, and catch when she anticipated a course correction might be forthcoming. "I'm going to be as honest as I can. And what happens next is up to her."
"And what is it you're asking her to forgive?"
She wasn't exactly prepared for that question, but she supposed there was more than the obvious answer. "I wasn't faithful to her. At least I stepped outside of what our tacit understanding of the relationship is – or - was. And I didn't do what I needed to do to take care of myself. I let Emma get the best of me. And that lead to Caroline getting hurt."
"I think you were hurt as well." Vivian set her notebook to the side and leaned forward on her elbows. "I'm going to be a little long winded in reminding you about something. Because it's important that you remember it as you go forward with Caroline, if you do. Emma's a predator. Her timing with this wasn't coincidental. She knew June was leaving home. She knew that you must be having conversations with Caroline about London that were at least difficult. She timed her move perfectly. To you it seemed out of the blue. To her, it was right in time. I want you to think about whether you're going to classify this as weakness on your part, because you've been thinking of yourself that way. This was instinct on her part Eleanor, to hunt. And you did stand up to her. And that was your instinct."
Eleanor nodded. She had ultimately fought back. And that was always something she was proud of, when she could slam the door in Emma's face. And really, truly, this wasn't about Emma.
"How do you think Caroline's going to react to all this?"
"I don't know. I can't imagine well – at least to what's happened with Emma. I know she'll – understand – what happened at University." Fresh tears began. She looked down. "But I worry that she's going to judge me, even if she doesn't mean to."
"You worry that she'll think you're weak."
Eleanor nodded. She covered her face with her hand and closed her eyes against it, but the tears came heavier this time. "She'll think that I'm damaged goods. I'm not worth the trouble."
Vivian was quiet. Her words following were delivered slowly, carefully articulated.
"First, I want to ask a question about you - before we talk about Caroline." Vivian took off the glasses she'd been wearing as she took notes and considered Eleanor kindly. "Do you think you're 'damaged goods'? Do you think you're worth the trouble?"
Deep down, Eleanor knew the answer to that question, unequivocally. But it took a minute to come to the surface. "I think I've had challenges. But I think I'm absolutely worth it." A weak smile, then more confident.
"OK." Vivian nodded and smiled approvingly. "I know a little about Caroline. But I'd like you to tell me what leads you to think her reaction will be to judge you that way."
"She can be amazingly generous. She'll go out of her way to be supportive for the people she loves. Whether or not it's convenient and whether or not she particularly agrees. She can be very unconditional in her love." Eleanor remembered Caroline's story of Judith's fall on her front steps and the trip to casualty, how she'd stayed with her. She also remembered the choice words Caroline had had regarding Judith's mental state.
Of course Judith had been John's mistress. Caroline had choice words about her as a matter of course. But Eleanor never wanted to imagine her thinking about her the way she thought about Judith. Even a little bit. It gutted her. "But she can occasionally be judgmental."
"Is her reaction something you can control?"
"No."
"Do you trust her?"
Eleanor closed her eyes and nodded gently before opening them again. "Yes. I do."
"Okay. And if she came to you, with something like this, how would you react?"
Eleanor was silent. She hadn't considered that at all. She spoke slowly, words coming one at a time. "I'd be hurt. I'd be angry - sad – that – she didn't – hadn't – asked me for help sooner. Because I think I would have wanted to help her if I could have. And I'd still want to help her now. Because I can't stand to see her hurting. Love – commitment - is helping someone when she needs it. Even when it's hard to do so."
Eleanor sat for a moment with her thoughts. Vivian smiled vaguely and changed position again.
"So you're going to tell her all of this, and if she forgives you, what happens?"
Eleanor frowned. "I'm not sure of what you're asking."
"If she does forgive you, will you create more tests for her? For your relationship?" Vivian's delivery was straightforward. On rare occasion she would throw a fastball right at Eleanor. And it was rare that she would see them coming in time to duck. Usually they hit her square, and she would sit quietly assimilating as Vivian waited patiently.
"You mean – London – and - the proposal?" Eleanor worked to catch up.
"And what's happened with Emma." Another fastball. Vivian wasn't just playing anymore.
Eleanor held her hands in her lap and stared at them. "You're saying I've perhaps been intentionally 'weak' as a way of testing whether she will use that vulnerability against me."
"Yes I am."
There was something new in Eleanor's eyes when she looked back up to Vivian this time. Or, rather, the return of something that had been missing for a while.
Vivian smiled confidently at Eleanor, who returned it.
"I'll see you next week?"
"Yes."
