I’m seeing a counselor and exploring what happened during my childhood, and —”
“NO!” she shouted, so loud and sudden that I took a step back. The next time she spoke, she was quiet—dangerously quiet.
“Now, you listen to me, Eleanor. Under no circumstances are you to discuss your childhood with anyone,
especially not a so-called ‘counselor.’ Do you hear me? Don’t you dare.
I’m warning you, Eleanor. If you start down that path, do you know what will happen? Do you know what I’ll do?
I’ll—” Dead air. As always, Mummy was scary. But the thing was, this time—for the first time ever—she’d actually sounded scared too.
A few weeks passed, and the sessions with Maria Temple had become a natural part of my routine.
It was nice to be out, despite the wind, and I decided to walk instead of taking the bus, enjoying what remained of the sun.
There were plenty of other people with the same idea. It felt good to be part of a throng, and I took gentle pleasure in mingling.
I dropped twenty pence into the paper cup of a man sitting on the pavement with a very attractive dog.
I bought a fudge doughnut from Greggs and ate it as I walked.
I smiled at a spectacularly ugly baby who was shaking his fist at me from a garish pushchair.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색