The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1671 by Angharad Copyright © 2012 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I’d just got back from getting a few necessaries from the supermarket, the girls were still eating breakfast and Danny had gone off to play football, when Dr Elizabeth Todmorton arrived to see Jacquie.

I showed the psychologist into my study, turned the sign on the door to, Do Not Disturb and went to get Jacquie. “You will come in with me, won’t you?”

“I’ll speak with Dr Todmorton, while you wait outside.” She reluctantly agreed but waited whilst I went into my study and noted the surprised look upon the psychologist’s face.

“Is there a problem?” she asked looking up from her notes?”

“Jacquie asked me to sit in on her session.”

“Out of the question I’m afraid.”

“Okay, I half expected that. However, I feel it useful to inform you that she doesn’t feel you’re dealing with her issues.”

“What am I dealing with then?”

“She seems to think you are working to an agenda which doesn’t give her any say in it.”

“I’m working to a format, yes. All therapists do, even if that format is chaos, mine is a planned programme based upon CBT–I presume you’ve heard of it?”

“I have, I’m also aware that it can be used mechanically rather than patient centred.”

“Is this personal experience, Lady Cameron?”

“I’m not the client here, except with regard to paying your fees.”

“I see so you want to call the tune?”

“Not at all, I want Jacquie to get the optimum benefit from your therapy, she has loads of issues...”

“I know–which is what I’m trying to prioritise, hence the agenda.”

“To her priorities, I presume?”

“Naturally.”

“Fine, I’ll let you get on with it, then.”

“Lady Cameron, if Jacquie is unhappy with my work then I suggest you find another therapist.”

“That isn’t for me to decide, is it? I’ll leave that for you both to resolve that and to let me know the outcome.” I left before she could formulate a response. I knew she disliked me for speaking to her, but I felt I’d done what Jacquie had asked me.

“I’ve spoken with Dr Todmorton, she’s aware you feel it’s too mechanical. I think you both need to discuss this and come to a conclusion.”

“Like what, Mummy?”

“That’s for you to decide, not me.”

“What should I do, Mummy?”

“What you feel is right for you.”

“How will I know that?”

“I think you will, now go and speak with her.” Reluctantly she went into my study and heard the door close as I walked back to the kitchen to feed the little one and do some ironing.

It was one of the longest hours I think I’ve ever experienced. I was halfway through one of Simon’s shirts when Jacquie came to get me. I followed her back to my study.

“Jacquie and I have finished setting out her priorities and my boundaries. We’ve agreed a contract of how we’ll work. I’ve warned her that it won’t be easy because there’s some very dark stuff in there we need to reframe.”

“Of course, to change the perspective of something?”

“Yes, what else did you think it meant?”

“I hadn’t thought what it meant.”

“Perhaps if you had, you wouldn’t have needed to speak with me earlier.” I considered myself told off, as in well and truly.

I accepted her criticism and showed her out. When I talked to Jacquie she showed me a series of exercises she had to do, such as keeping diaries and recording how she felt with a value to each feeling. No surprise there then. I handed her a few exercise books and told her to use them for her diaries. Her reaction was more one of surprise than gratitude. This therapist woman didn’t come cheap, so I decided Jacquie should try to cooperate or we find someone else.

I sent her off to commence her diaries while I finished the ironing and got some lunch. The latter was some fresh soup to go with the bread I was about to turn out of the machine.

After a successful lunch, Jacquie went off for her driving lesson and I suggested we went for a walk with the dog and fed some seagulls–I had some stale bread I didn’t fancy doing anything useful with, so I chopped it into squares and shoved it in a bag.

Kiki tried to grab each piece of bread we threw to the seagulls–I know, no such thing as seagulls, these were mainly herring gull, common gull and some lesser black-backs.

The wind drove the bread back to us half the time, so Kiki, the ever hungry spaniel, did manage to grab one or two pieces, however, the gulls got most of it. I suppose we walked about a mile or two before we turned and walked back to home. It started to rain–typical holiday weather.

Tomorrow is Good Friday, and I’ll have to try and wangle some way to watch some of the cycle racing, it’s on the computer at about ten. Will Pendleton and Hoy add some more world champion titles to their palmares? I sincerely hoped so, and hoped the Aussies weren’t on such imperious form as they were at the last world cup competition. Meares was destroying all before her, and as Pendleton’s arch rival, those races would be brilliant.

I’d got some hot cross buns, they weren’t exactly hot until I shoved them in the hot oven of the Aga–then they were very warm. I was prepared to butter them or allow them to be eaten as they were–several were unsure of what to do. Finally, I got a decision. Danny wanted his cold as it was. Meems wanted hers toasted with lots of butter. Trish and Livvie wanted theirs just warmed, Tom wanted his soaked in whisky–I told him to go and tak’ a high jump.

Jacquie had another driving lesson so I was left babysitting–hardly a first choice for my growing irritability. It rained so I assumed Danny’s football match would be cancelled, it wasn’t and he got absolutely soaked.

Si was working from home doing some emails to Europe. Trish suggested Monopoly and I stopped that one–she is insufferable when she bankrupts everyone. In the end, I sat and read them some of the Gaby book, they had just finished–they all applauded me and said I was very good. Just what I needed to be told.