Queenie(58)
“Queenie, you’re back.” Had that nurse ratted on me?
“Hello, Elspeth,” I said, confused, not knowing why she was here. Elspeth took the traitor’s seat at the desk and started tapping at the computer, as they’re so fond of doing when they could be making eye contact and engaging with me at a human level.
“Now, this is your third visit in quite a short amount of time,” Elspeth informed me as if I didn’t already know. “And while I’m pleased to hear from Caroline that you aren’t battered and bruised, she did say that you seemed very vacant. I know that you might not want to talk to me, but I think that you do need to talk to somebody.”
I stared at her blankly. What was I meant to say, that I wasn’t my sparkiest when I was about to show my vagina to a stranger when I wasn’t going to get anything out of it?
“Between me and you, I have a daughter your age, and in some strange way, you remind me of her.”
“Is she black?” I cut in.
“No,” Elspeth said firmly. “When you left last time, I made some calls, and while I hoped you wouldn’t come back in, I got the number of a therapist for you to call in the event that you did return.”
“Can I go now?” I asked. “I have to go back to work.”
She nodded, and handed me the piece of paper as I left the room. Without looking at what it said, I shoved it to the bottom of my rucksack.
* * *
I slid past Gina talking angrily on her phone in the foyer, something about “custody” and “you can have them, then,” and got back to my desk in time for my meeting with Chuck.
He was already in the breakout area, pen and paper in hand. I put my coat and rucksack on the floor and collapsed into the beanbag opposite Chuck. He looked up as I landed. “Careful. Don’t hurt yourself,” he said cheerfully, his Boston twang grating on me. I definitely found the accent less thrilling since he was the reason I’d been given a warning.
“I’m fine. The whole point of beanbags is for relaxation and comfort,” I said sharply. “Right. Are you ready for the big project? The big project that is going to change your life as you know it?”
“Yes. I think so. But how are you, how are you doing? You seem kinda, I dunno, messed-up recently.” Why did he always want to discuss my bad moods?
“I’m fine. Just some boy dramas and family stuff, and life always has a way of—Sorry, Chuck. Let’s keep this strictly professional, okay?” I hurried along. “So, the last few weeks you’ve shadowed me while I’ve used InDesign to fill in the listings?”
“Sure have. But you know, you can talk to me about anything. I’m kind of a good listener.” Chuck leaned forward eagerly.
I ignored this. “Okay, so, I’m thinking, for your project, you design a whole new layout for the listings. Think about utilizing the space of the six pages, Chuck. That should keep you going for a while.”
“Er, I don’t think that I’m that good yet?”
“Don’t be so negative!” I said briskly. “You’ll be fine. Now, can you look away while I get up from this beanbag? Why did you pick these to sit on? There is nothing less dignified than getting up from one of these things. It’s a system of thrusting.”
Eventually I made it back onto two legs and to my desk.
On Tuesday, 15th January, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 15:55: Tea and talking, afternoon edition?
On Friday, 18th January, Betts, Darcy <[email protected]> wrote at 16:10: Sorry, no, I’ve got loads to do, and Simon is calling at half past so that we can “iron some things out.” Can we e-mail? Or text. Group chat in case one of the others needs to step in when I’m on the phone?
On Friday, 18th January, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 16:12: Darcy, is there something wrong with me? I just went to the clinic and this nurse who seems to be keeping tabs on me has basically said that I’m fucked up and gave me a counseling referral. Do I go there too often? Am I damaged beyond repair?
On Friday, 18th January, Betts, Darcy <[email protected]> wrote at 16:16: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you clinically, but there’s no harm in talking to a professional about what’s been going on. Maybe, and don’t take this the wrong way, maybe change your attitude toward the way that you engage with men?
On Friday, 18th January, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 16:19: What’s wrong with the way I engage with men??
My phone lit up. The question was too big for Darcy to handle alone. She’d taken it to the group text.
THE CORGIS
Darcy
Queenie has just asked what’s wrong with the way she engages with men
Kyazike
LOL
Kyazike
LOL I don’t think any of us will ever be able to answer that one
Queenie
Thanks, Kyazike
Kyazike
You know what I mean though. You’re just boy-mad, innit. You’ve gone rebound crazy. But for some reason it’s all dickheads you’re going for
Queenie
I don’t think that’s true
Cassandra