Cider Without Roses 31

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CHAPTER 31
He looked at me as he drove, and I feared for his steering.

“What are you doing, Sophie?”

“What do you mean?”

“We do not see you, we do not speak to you, even when we take a holiday to see you, you go somewhere distant from us. You are distant from us now, distant from me in this car. My wife, your sister, you do not speak, you do not enquire. You must know she has finished her studies, as you have. Where are your questions?”

He pulled hard at the steering wheel of the car, and to a sound of klaxons he stopped by the side of the road and seized my shoulders. There were tears in his eyes, and his mouth was moving in twisted ways. He held me at a distance, at the length of his arms, and then embraced me. I could feel his tears, but I had none of my own.

“Yes, I know of Maman and Guillaume, of you and Margot. Do you know what she said? That you were already her sister, and this was simply confirmation, that she could love you no more than she already did. We would have children, my Maggie and I, and they will know their family. They will have all that we never did, and you WILL be there. Sophie…”

He drew me to him as he turned in his chair, and I did not resist, there was no point in doing so.

“My sister…I met somebody yesterday, somebody that made me smile. She was an Englishwoman, a red, and yet her passport, it still had the masculine in it, and I said to her, you are an Englishwoman for how long, and she, she spoke well, and she smiled and said she was a Welshwoman, and from her birth, and that the man with her was her well-beloved. And…and I said I had a brother, who was now a Norman girl, and that I was pleased for her, and that I loved her. And so this Englishwoman, this Welshwoman, she went, with her man, and their family, and she too was tall, and all I could think about was my sister, how such a life could be hers if she stopped hiding her head in her behind”

His hands clenched in the fabric over my shoulders, and then he released me, with obvious great effort.

“Sophie, you will have your hospital stay, and then you will heal, and there is to be a marriage. You will be there for that, and we, your family, are here for you. This is the time that we make our family complete, no? Will you not speak to me?”

“Rollo, I will do all that is needed for that day”

“Whore of a brothel of shit, why are you getting your piece cut off if you don’t care? I fuck myself about whether you have it done or not, but you, you still want it gone even though you are dead to everything else! Why?”

It was indeed odd. I felt nothing, could feel nothing, about those around me, but my body, I wanted it real. I could never be real, of course, for I was a fraud, a liar to all, but this one thing, this deformity, I could at least dispose of that. I wanted to say to him that I would die clean, but he would understand such a statement only one way, and he would be right. I herded words together like lost sheep.

“Rollo, I must be whole. I must do this. The rest of things, they do not matter. But I must be whole”

“Name of God, girl, you have not even sought a job, have you? Piece of shit, I would give up, but I cannot. That is my pain, you idiot, all logic says I should give up on you, walk away, fuck off and leave you, but I cannot, WE cannot, your mother, your father, your sister, yes?”

He lifted my chin. “Your brother, my sweet. I could never leave you, abandon you. I said it to that Englishwoman, Welshwoman. I am here, beside you, always, yes?”

Sometimes, when there is much rain, and a river floods, it carries with it so much debris, so much rubbish, that it forms a natural barrage behind which the flood stands and deepens, until suddenly the pressure becomes too overbearing and the whole thing collapses in a torrent of dirt and damage, and the riverbed is scoured and swept, and that was my moment, just then. This man, this brother, this flesh of mine, he was breaking before my numbness, and my barrage began to give. Suddenly, it was me that embraced him, and my own floods came, and he said nothing as my carefully-arranged words fled across my mind and out of my mouth in ones and twos, and with little sense or order, but Rollo, my Rollo, he understood, and he held me close.

“I will never let you fall, my sweet. That is my promise”

He took me home, at last, where my parents, my sister, awaited me, and there was more, and it differed from my brother’s welcome, but it was still exactly the same, and once again I slept with a desire to awake the next day.

Maman was up and preparing the breakfast before I rose, and I felt ashamed as I came to her, but she simply smiled and gave me a kiss. “Welcome home, my little sweet one”

Rollo was already at work, but Margot was soon with us, and once more I received a kiss.

“Papa has made us an offer, Sophie. There is no sense in him keeping the old house, so he is giving it to us. We shall have the room there, the room for…oh, my friend, I am sorry. You know I mean no harm, no spite”

I smiled at her, to show my understanding. “You and Rollo, you would have many children, no? And Papa, he will live with his wife, but close enough to see their grandchildren?”

My brother does it, my sister too; they smile, and there is suddenly beauty everywhere the light reaches. She took my hand.

“I may have something for you, Sophie, some work that will help you heal. No, you have been ill, it is true. People do not need to be seen bleeding, or to vomit, to be unwell. Maman..”

She looked towards my mother, and there were more smiles. “It makes sense for me to call her that. And they have told all, our parents, and I have nothing but joy from their news. Now, have you heard of the English place, the Open University?”

“No, not a thing”

“Well, my sister, they are an organisation that teaches mostly mature people, and they teach many things, and one is our language. They bring students here for a week in the Summer, where everything is in French, it must be spoken all the time and not English, but some of the students, they are not so strong. You would be an assistant, an aide. They are usually nice people; I met many as I studied”

I tried a smile, and she noticed. “Margot, sister, you have already put things in place, have you not?”

I heard Maman laugh behind me. “I have my other daughter back, I see”

More embraces, more tears, and then Maman dressed me and washed my face, and took me to see Mme Chinon, who made her leave the room before she spoke to me.

“Sophie, your family have told me of your behaviour, of your distress. That is fine, it is useful, but it also worries me, and I must hear things from your own lips. Talk to me”

I found my words once more, ordered them. “That is…that is a difference today, that I can talk. Rollo…”

She asked no question, just raised her brows.

“My brother, he said things to me, things concerning family, and love, and…there is no easy way to explain this, but I see things differently at this very moment”

I drew a few breaths. “I have studied, and I have read, and I have hidden. I took no friends at Perpignan except for those I already had, and I know I have hurt them, but they stayed true. I had decision made, when I left, to come here and take the surgery, and see my mother and father wed, and then, when I was whole, complete, I would finish things. I am a liar, a fraud, and I felt that should not continue”

I looked at her, and once more she just raised her brows, an invitation to continue.

“Rollo, he talked to me, and then my sister, and Maman, and, it was, it was that I was so far away I could see nothing but what was before my eyes, and that was emptiness, and I hid from them, and…”

My tears were there once again, for in the last day they came so easily, as the debris swept through my life. She waited, and as she did so I realised what I had said, and that she had not missed those words.

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Comments

Sophie Makes A Breakthrough

joannebarbarella's picture

Rollo has breached the wall of indifference and Sophie has started to react more naturally but there is still a long way to go and she is still liable to be hurt now that she is back at home,

Joanne

Oh...

Andrea Lena's picture

Maman was up and preparing the breakfast before I rose, and I felt ashamed as I came to her, but she simply smiled and gave me a kiss. “Welcome home, my little sweet one.”

Je pleure, bien sûr. Merci, mon cher Stephanie.

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

The longest journey ...

The longest journey is the journey inwards.

XZXX

Bev.

bev_1.jpg

back from the brink?

Now that her suicidal feelings are out in the open, maybe they can get her off the ledge.

DogSig.png

A long way ro go

The clue to timescale is in Rollo's meeting with Steph, which was for the PBP cycle ride. That happens every four years.

Thank you Steph,

As Rollo said,"how such a life could be hers if she stopped hiding her head
in her behind". So true that you have to be who you are,accept WHO you are,
not' what you are'. Poor Sophie is travelling that long ,hard road,which has
more hills and bridges to cross,but the love of her family will get her there.
Another great chapter,Steph.

ALISON

Constant themes

There are some themes that are common across the writings of many authors here, and one of them, that I keep stressing, is that of family and friends. Angharad stresses that so much in 'Bike', and Bailey, Bev, Drea amd others keep the flame burning. I do not mean the sort of magical acceptance that involves showers of kittens or the miraculous appearance of herds of pink unicorns, but the real life process of a relative, a friend, saying "Shit, that's nasty. How do we sort it out?"
I have just come off the phone from a conversation with someone I have not seen for a long time, and when I described what has happened in my life they simply said 'That puts my Weightwatchers story to shame'. Acceptance and support, but as it really happens, by family, by friends, rather than fluffiness.
Not meant as a rant; I hope you see what I mean. The support of family, friends, despite the shitstorm that transition entails.

Being in the dark

Podracer's picture

My own walk in the dark was a long time ago. There wasn't a trauma. Nothing to fight back at. No thing to put right. I thought I was alone.
I did have family, we didn't talk but they were there.

"Reach for the sun."