The Cockney Canuck - 124. Chapter 124 The Assessment

“You're his worst nightmare,” said Jo. “A gay son who he can’t control. Someone he believes is turning his family against him and undermining his authority. You represent everything he loathes and fears. No wonder he hates you, sweetie. No offence, but in his eyes, your arrival was nothing short of a disaster and one he could never have predicted. I wonder if he would have been so eager to bring you over here if he had known beforehand you were gay.”

“I doubt it. He probably would’ve made up some lame excuse to my mom, so he didn’t have to take me, and I would have been put into care instead.”

Jo, somewhat surprisingly, wasn’t convinced. “That’s exactly what I thought, but you know what, now I’m not so sure.”

I thought it was an odd thing to say and she didn’t give a reason, but Jo would often throw in statements like this and then leave me to work it out for myself. This time though, I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

It was the end of my sixth session in two weeks of intensive therapy, and Jo was summing up. Her appraisal was, as always, blunt and direct, and it was no surprise that the person she singled out for the most criticism was Don.

His attempts to regain control of his family were looking increasingly desperate, and it was difficult to see a way out for him. It was a gradual decline, but I think he only really noticed it that weekend when his long-suffering wife finally drew a line in the sand, and now it was too late.

It must have come as a shock to him when he realised he could no longer count on her unconditional support. His ship was sinking fast, and Jo seemed to think he would go down with it and try to take everyone with him.

“I’m not gonna lie to you and pretend things are gonna be okay because they won’t be. He’s gonna blame you, that’s what usually happens. He will see you as the catalyst for everything that’s gone wrong in his life.”

“So what are you saying he’s gonna try to kill me or something?”

“Sweetie, as crazy as it may sound, if he thought he could get away with it, I believe he probably would.”

I laughed, it sounded ridiculous, but at the same time, I knew there was probably an element of truth in that statement. Premeditated murder was a little extreme, even for Don, but Jo was concerned by his recent erratic behaviour and wanted me to show a bit more restraint when dealing with him. I suppose in her job it paid to be cautious and prepare for any eventuality, however absurd it may seem. It was her work ethic, meticulous planning, and leaving nothing to chance.

“Is there anywhere you could go in the case of an emergency. A safe place like a friend’s house. Somewhere Don doesn’t know about or wouldn’t think of looking for you?”

The person who sprang to mind was Rory. I knew he wouldn’t let me down if I were in trouble, and I could knock on his door at any time. I was also pretty sure Don didn’t know where he lived.

“I could go to Rory’s house, but I think you're overreacting. All Don ever does is shout. I mean, he’s a big guy, and he’s got a temper, but I’ve never seen him hit anyone. Most of the time, he just beats himself up.” I giggled, but Jo was serious.

“Okay, so if anything really bad happens, you get outta the house, call me, and go to Rory’s place. You don’t argue or try to restrain him, and you don’t tell anyone where you're going. Oh, I almost forgot.” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a form which she attached to her clipboard. “Before we go, I need to complete this.”

‘There’s always something else’.

“What is it?”

“A mental health assessment.”

“Another one?” I said and groaned as Jo pulled up a chair and sat down in front of me. She stared into my eyes, forcing me to look away.

“It won’t take long.”

It was the second assessment in a week, and I was tired of answering stupid questions that had little or no relevance to my situation. I folded my arms and looked at the clock on the wall while Jo tried to get my attention. She blew a bubble with her gum that burst in front of my face and laughed.

“That’s very childish.”

“I know. So are you ready for some more inane questions?”

“No.”

“Too bad. First question. Has your mood improved since the last assessment? If you say no, I’ll kill you.”

“Yes,” I said, trying to mask a smile.

“How about your sleep? Are you having any trouble sleeping?

“I don’t sleep.”

“Good. Any nightmares or bad dreams?”

“Yes.”

“How often?”

“Everyday.”

“Excellent. How about anxiety or panic attacks?”

“All the time.”

“Okay, and your appetite? Are you eating regularly?”

“No, I don’t eat anything.”

“You're not taking this seriously, are you?”

“Taking what seriously?”

“Okay, fine. I’ll fill these in for you later and skip to page two.”

“Are you allowed to do that?”

“No.”

“Won't you get in trouble?”

“Are you gonna tell anyone?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then, I won't. No one reads this fucking crap anyway,” she mumbled as she flipped over the sheet and then threw her pen across the room in frustration when it wouldn’t work. I tried not to laugh as I offered her mine. “Thank you, sweetie. Now, where was I?”

“You said you were gonna fill it in for me.”

“Yes, I will but not this bit.” She waited to get my full attention. “Have you had any more thoughts about hurting yourself and if so, how often? I can’t answer this one for you.”

‘I should have known’.

“Why don’t they just ask me this in the first place? No, I’m not going to kill myself. I don’t need to; Don’s gonna do it for me.”

“I’ll take the first part of that answer,” she said with a satisfied grin. It was precisely what she wanted to hear, and I suspected the real and only reason for the stupid assessment.

She put the form back into her bag then playfully slapped me on the knee with her clipboard. “So what about the other thing?” She pointed at my crotch with her pen and raised her eyebrows. “Any improvement down there?”

“No.” I shook my head in disappointment.

“So I take it you didn’t complete your homework assignment at the weekend?”

I stared at her as she got up and walked across the room, but I didn’t answer her question and had no wish to discuss it any further.

“Can we go now?”

“In a minute. Maybe we can arrange for you to see a specialist.”

This made me laugh. I didn’t realise they had an erection specialist.

“Well, if you can laugh about it, then it’s obviously not a problem, so we won't bother.”

“No, it is a problem. It just sounded funny, that’s all.”

“When’s your next appointment at the hospital? I can arrange it for the same day.”

“Not until January. Unless I collapse again.”

“Not an option. We can’t allow that to happen, you need to avoid stressful situations. I know it’s easier said than done when you're living under the same roof as the world’s biggest asshole, but it won't be forever. Pretty soon he’s gonna implode. I don’t want you to be there when it happens.”

“Is imploding painful?”

“Excruciatingly.”

“Then I definitely wanna be there when it happens.”

She tilted her head at me. “I never had you down as a vengeful person.”

“I’m not. I just wanna get my own back on the bastard.” She thought it was funny, but it wasn’t meant to be. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“It doesn’t matter. Have you spoken to Conner?”

“Not yet.”

“I didn’t think so.”

This was the problem with Jo. She knew me so well now; she could read my mind; I was sure of it. She could even fill out my assessments for me.

“I was gonna call him tonight.”

“But you won’t.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“You need to tell him what happened with Alex.”

“I can’t.”

“Then maybe he’s not the right guy for you.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The fact that you don’t wanna see him is a bit of a giveaway.”

“I do wanna see him, but I just don’t wanna talk about the Alex thing, not even to you.”

“But you know I have to report it, don’t you? It’s sexual assault. I have no choice.”

“I know.” It wasn’t unexpected. I knew sooner or later; she would have to inform the police. Those were the rules and even Jo had to abide by them. “What will they do?”

“They’ll want to question you.”

I groaned at the thought of having to reveal even more of my life to Don’s friends in the Cobourg police. “And then what?”

“They will contact the social services and who will appoint a child protection worker. You’ll need to speak to that person too. They’ll both carry out separate preliminary investigations to determine if you there’s a legitimate case to prosecute. Not much can happen until they find Alex, but if they do, because he’s under eighteen, he’ll be covered by the young offender’s act, which entitles him to anonymity. The same will apply to you, so even if it goes to court, which is unlikely, it won't be public knowledge.”

“What do you mean it’s unlikely?”

“I don’t think there’s enough evidence for them to send it to trial.”

“You mean they won't believe me.”

“No, I said there’s not enough evidence to send it to trial. It doesn’t mean they don’t believe you. The accused also has rights; even Alex is innocent until proven guilty and that’s gonna take some doing.”

“So I won't have to go to court then.”

“I very much doubt it. If they did prosecute then all he has to do is say you consented. After all, you willingly did it before with him on a couple of occasions, and his attorney will be allowed to make this known. You’ll have to prove that on this occasion you didn’t want to do it. How are you gonna do that without any witnesses? It’ll be your word against his, and the only person who saw you fighting was Don. How do you rate your chances of getting him to be a witness for you?”

“Zero, I guess.”

“We know that’s not gonna happen, and you have no evidence. According to the hospital report, your injuries were caused by you passing out, which in turn was the result of your well-documented head injury. It was Alex who called the paramedics. I’m not a legal expert, but I know enough about the law to be fairly certain they’re not gonna charge him, even if they do find him.”

As usual, everything Jo said made perfect sense. I was worrying for no reason. It was a massive relief for me, and finally, I was able to see a way out of this mess.

“I don’t want them to charge him. I’d rather try and forget about it. I don’t even blame him. If anything I feel sorry for him.”

“So which one is the true Robbie. The one who wants revenge on Don or the one who’s willing to forgive Alex?”

It was a good question, and unlike the meaningless ones on the assessment form, I wanted to answer it, so I took my time.

“Both, I suppose. Alex really hurt me and what he did has affected me in a lot of different ways. But at the same time, I know he didn’t mean to do it. It was a mistake, and I can forgive him. Don has never attacked me, but what he’s done has hurt me a lot more, and it was deliberate. He meant to do it, and I can never forgive him for that.”

Jo was impressed. “You just nailed this assessment, kid. There’s nothing wrong with your mental health.”

This should have been good news, but Jo’s reaction suddenly made me very nervous as I realised the possible implications. If I were no longer a nutcase, then Jo would soon be on her way. Up until then, the possibility of her moving on hadn’t even crossed my mind, but no one has therapy forever, and Jo was very much in demand.

‘How will I cope without her’?

“So am I off the danger list now?”

“Almost. I mean you're still fucked up but not as fucked up as you were, so that’s good. Or maybe you like being fucked up, in which case it isn’t. I’m not sure of your preference.”

I laughed at her metaphor. “Neither at the moment.

“Then give Conner a call and stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Jo put her jacket on and straightened her hair with her fingers. That day she had blond highlights which suited her probably more than she would have liked. She was wearing less make-up too, which made her look even more like my mom than usual. It was one of the reasons I trusted her so implicitly from the outset and was always so relaxed in her company. It seemed so unfair that soon, like the woman she resembled, Jo would also have to leave me to fend for myself.

*     *     *

School had finished over an hour ago, but the corridors were still busy as I waited for Jo to find her keys and lock the room. The final dress rehearsal for the Christmas play was attracting a lot of attention, so I walked across to the auditorium to peek through the door. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Nathan dressed as Tinkerbell, but instead, I came face to face with Ginny. She was leaving and walked straight into me.

“Why don’t you watch where you're…. Oh, hey, Robbie. What’s up?” She smiled when she recognised me and apologised for nearly knocking me over. “How come you're still in school, are you waiting for Nathan?”

“No, I was just with my counsellor.” I was about to introduce them, but it seemed like they had already met.

“Jo?”

“Hi Ginny, how’s it going?”

“I didn’t know you were back at Stephenson.” Ginny looked at me and then back at Jo. “Are you here for Robbie?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that they knew each other. Nathan told me Ginny had serious issues in the past and suffered from bouts of depression, but it was still a little weird to see them talking like friends.

“So I take it you and Robbie know each other,” said Jo.

“He’s Nathan’s ex-boyfriend,” said Ginny, before adding. “Well, we’re friends too. I guess.” She looked at me for confirmation, and I gave her a reluctant nod. I never considered Ginny to be a friend before, but after splitting up with Nathan, she seemed to be making a genuine effort to be nice to me.

“So Ginny’s friend Nathan is the same Nathan you were dating?” asked Jo. “It makes sense now. It’s a small world.”

Apparently, Jo knew of Nathan long before I came on the scene, but for some reason, I didn’t like the idea of her counselling Ginny. I felt very possessive of Jo, almost as if she was there exclusively for me. Seeing them laughing and talking like friends was almost like an act of betrayal.

“I’ll tell Nathan you were looking for him,” said Ginny as we parted company in the parking lot.

“I wasn’t looking for him.”

“But you're going to the show on Thursday, right? You can sit with us if you want.”

“I dunno, I’m supposed to be going with Sue and Amy.”

“Well, as long as you show up, Nathan will be pissed if you don’t go.”

I got that impression too, although I wasn’t sure why.

*     *     *

Ginny and I hardly talked outside of school, and I didn’t even realise she had my number, so it was a surprise when she called me that evening to invite me to her New Year’s Eve party.

“You're welcome to come, and you can bring someone with you if you want.”

I assumed she meant a partner like Conner—if we were still boyfriends by then—and it was tempting. It sounded like it could be fun, but I didn’t know if I could face having to look at Nathan snuggling up to his new lover boy and New Year’s Eve would mean plenty of kissing.

“It’s nice of you to invite me, Ginny, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea.”

“Why, because Nathan will be there?”

“Well, yeah. That’s exactly why.”

“Don’t be silly. He won't mind.”

“It’s not just him. It’s me too. It’s gonna be awkward.”

“How can you feel awkward? You know him so well.”

She wasn’t getting it, and I didn’t think it was worth trying to explain, so I chose the easy answer. “I don’t know; I’ll see what I can do.”

There was a long silence before she spoke again, and this time she sounded very sombre.

“I know what you're going through, Robbie, and it helps when you're with friends. I’ve been there, and it’s not nice. Jo’s a good person, but I know if you're seeing her then it has to be bad and that’s scary.”

‘Is Ginny worried about me’?

“I’m okay.”

“No, you're not. Not if you're seeing Jo. Look, I don’t know if Nathan told you, but I’ve had issues in the past, with depression.”

“I didn’t know.” I tried to sound surprised, but it was a poor attempt.

“How could you not know that? I thought everyone knew! I tried to kill myself.”

Now, this I really didn’t know, but I was interested in finding out. “Really?”

“More than once.”

“What happened?”

“I failed, dickhead!”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad you're okay now.”

“I’m not fucking okay! Sometimes I think to myself, third time lucky, but then Jo comes and straightens me out again.”

I remembered now why we never talked, but it bothered me that she thought I was in the same boat.

‘I used to laugh at Ginny. Are people laughing at me in the same way’?

I promised myself I would never make fun of mental illness again. It was a severe and debilitating problem, which few people understood.

Ginny had calmed down and was back in control.

“I won't tell anyone, and you don’t have to talk about it. It doesn’t even matter if you don’t like me. We don’t have to be friends, but please come to my party. You’ll feel better for it.”

Maybe she did understand, after all. In the past, I had written Ginny off as a fruitcake, zonked out of her mind on anti-depressants, but in hindsight, I was probably a little harsh. At certain points, she seemed almost normal on the phone. I was tempted to ask Sue if I could go, only to be put off by the thought of being invited somewhere simply because people felt sorry for me. Especially if that person happened to be my ex-boyfriend.

“Did Nathan ask you to invite me?”

“No, he can’t tell me who to invite to my party. I’m not even gonna mention it to him.”

“Oh, I think you should.”

“Don’t be such a dick; he’ll be pleased to see you.”

“I wouldn’t bank on it, Ginny.”

“I would. Besides, you guys should be friends; he’s always talking about you.”

I was intrigued enough to stay on the phone and even go out to the yard to be out of Nicola’s listening range. It was icy outside, below freezing and I was in a t-shirt and socks.

“What does he say then?”

“Ha, I knew you’d want to know. You still like him, don’t you?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“You do; I know you do.”

“Well, you're wrong. I’m just curious to find out what he’s been saying about me.”

“Come to the party, and I’ll tell you,” she teased. “What are you doing?” I guess she could hear me hopping from one foot to the other on the icy patio and panting as the frosty night air started to bite my skin.

“I’m getting cold feet.”

“So you're not going?”

“No, I’m getting cold feet because I’m standing outside in my socks.”

“You're fucking weird. Oh and don’t ever mention this conversation to anyone, I don’t want people thinking I care about you or anything.”

“Don’t worry, Ginny. I won't tell a soul. As far as I’m concerned you're still a bitch.”

“And you're an asshole, Fullerton.”

“It’s Taylor now,” I reminded her, but she had already ended the call. I ran inside and shut the door. Nicola and Daniel were watching a movie from the couch and turned to stare at me as I rubbed my arms. “It’s cold out there.”

‘Maybe I am a fruitcake. When Ginny calls you weird, you know you’ve got a problem’.

*     *     *

The following day, I took a deep breath and called Conner on Skype.

At least he was smiling when he answered. “Hey, stranger. How are you?” It was a good sign, but I could tell he wasn’t happy with me, and it was fairly obvious why. It was almost a month since I last saw him in the flesh and I had backed out of every attempt he had made since then to meet up.

“I’m sorry I’ve been mucking you about,” I said. “You deserve better than that.”

He looked angry and hurt. “So, what are you saying? Have you decided you don’t wanna go out with me after all?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I called to ask if you wanted to go to my school play on Thursday.”

“Your school play?”

“Yeah, it’s at my school.”

“I kinda guessed that.”

“Oh, yeah, well, it’s Peter Pan,” I said. “And it’s supposed to be really good.”

“I’ve seen it,” he said.

“Yeah, so have I.”

“Then why do you wanna see it again?”

“It’s a school play.”

“I’m only kidding ya,” he said. “I’ll see if I can get a ride, but I can’t make any promises. My parents are gonna be busy. It’s the weekend before Christmas.”

“Well, if you can get here, then I can ask Sue if you can stay over if you want?” I knew that would get Conner’s attention and he smiled. “We would have to sleep in separate rooms, of course, but it’s better than talking on Skype.”

“That’s okay. I know you’ve got problems at home. At least I get to see you. Maybe we can even hold hands at some point when no one’s watching.”

Conner’s sarcasm seemed a little out of place on his innocent face, but he was losing patience with our lack of progress. It was understandable, I suppose, and it made me feel guilty.

“I wanna have fun too, you know. It’s just been a little difficult lately. I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“Well, you can come over here anytime you want,” he said. “My folks don’t mind. They wanna meet you.”

“They do?”

“Of course they do and you can sleepover too. In the same room, if you want?”

“Is that what you want, Conner?”

“You know it is, but it’s up to you. It’s not weird to want to have sex with your boyfriend, Robbie.”

“I know that, silly. As I said, there are reasons why I’ve been holding back, and it’s nothing to do with you.” He was smiling at me as I tried to explain, and I started to get a little hot under the collar. It was a good sign.

‘Maybe Jo’s right’.

“It’s not an easy thing for me to talk about, especially on Skype.”

“Have you any idea what people do on Skype, Robbie?” He was blushing and trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, I’ve heard some stuff.”

“Did you ever do anything like that with Nathan?”

It was none of his business, so I lied. “There was no need; he only lives around the corner.”

“What difference does that make. We can try it if you want, it’s fun.”

I panicked as the warm feeling I had turned to fear. Conner was beginning to sound a little creepy, and I got the impression he wasn’t a novice at Skype. Maybe he was doing it with his old boyfriend back in Saskatchewan. The boy who he didn’t want to leave. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he was. I would have done the same thing.

“Maybe another time,” I said.

“I didn’t mean right now, stupid. Look, I’ll tell you what. I’ll go to your school play if you come over here next weekend. How’s that?”

“Next weekend, but that’s Christmas? Sue will want me here.”

“How about in the evening, you can stay over. Don’t you wanna see me over the Christmas. I got you a present.”

“Oh, err, yeah of course I do. That’ll be cool. I’ll have to ask Sue, but if she agrees, then it’s a deal.”

“Great. You don’t have to be nervous, Robbie. I get that you're shy, but it’ll be fun, I promise.”

I assumed he was talking about the sex part and not the day in general. “I’m not usually shy, Conner. But like I said, we need to talk about it first.”

“We can do that now if you want. I’m not embarrassed.”

“No, not now.”

“Fine. I’ll see you on Thursday then.”

“Thursday?”

“Your school play, remember? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

I ended the call and sat on my own for a while looking around my tiny cell-like room. I had just made arrangements to have sex with Conner, but it felt like I just booked an appointment with the dentist. I should have been excited at the prospect of ending my four-month drought. Instead, I was nervous and worried in case I made a fool of myself.

Conner was the complete opposite. If ever a guy looked like he needed sex, it was him, and I felt a little guilty for giving him the runaround. I desperately wanted to please him, and I knew it wouldn’t be a difficult thing to do, but I couldn’t muster the same enthusiasm as I had with Nathan, Tom, or even Fran. No matter how hard I tried.

I wondered if Conner’s parents knew what we would be doing. It seemed odd that they would allow their gay son to have his boyfriend sleepover in his room. The next day I decided to ask my man on the inside.

*     *     *

“They’re pretty cool with me staying over,” said Rory. “And they know what’s going on. They treat their kids like adults and trust them to make the right decisions. It’s not like he’s jumping into bed with every guy he sees. He’s only had, one boyfriend.”

Treating their kids like adults seemed a weird concept to me, but Rory seemed to be benefitting from it and so would I if I could stand to attention long enough.

It was the end of the school day, and I was on my way to see Jo in our usual room by the auditorium.

“You haven’t met my new counsellor yet have you, Rory?”

“I didn’t even know you had counselling.”

“Well, you do now. I’ll introduce you to her, she would like to meet you. Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite.”

I was looking forward to showing off my cool counsellor to my best friend, but Rory’s mind was firmly on next week.

“So are you going to go to Conner’s house on Christmas Day?”

“Yeah, if I can get a ride.”

“Oh, you’ll get that alright.” Rory giggled, but I wasn’t expecting that kind of humour from him. It seemed almost wrong to hear smut emanating from such angelic features, but a sign of how far he had progressed under Rebecca’s careful tuition. “That’ll be really cool, we get to hang out together at Christmas.”

“Are you gonna be there?”

“Of course.” He beamed a smile at me and the thought of spending the day in a strange house suddenly became a lot more appealing. “I’ll be sleeping over too?”

“You mean the same night?”

“Yeah. Christmas night. It’ll be fun. Now Conner will have someone to play with too.” I wasn’t entirely sure about that, but I couldn’t fault Rory’s enthusiasm. He sounded more excited than Conner. “It’s a big old farmhouse, and Conner’s room is next to Rebecca’s. It’ll be like a sleepover, but with sex.”

Rory was convinced it was going to be fun and was bubbling with excited energy, but I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of having sex with Conner while my friend was in the next room. I tried to mask my uncertainties with a show of bravado.

“Maybe we can swap places in the night.”

“You wanna have sex with Rebecca?”

“No, dummy, I wanna swap places with her.”

“Oh, I see. That’s disgusting, they’re brother and sister.” It was only a joke, of course, but I thought it was interesting that this was Rory’s only objection.

*     *     *

It was just over an hour later when Jo pulled up on the driveway in front of my house. I could tell something was bothering her. She had been unusually quiet on the way home, and I wasn’t surprised when she switched off the engine.

“Time to introduce myself to the parents,” she said, but Sue must have seen her pull up and was standing by the front door.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” said Jo, ventriloquist style almost without moving her lips. It was a talent I didn’t know she possessed, and it made me giggle.

“Yes, that’s Sue, and it looks like she wants to meet you.”

I stumbled out of the car with a pile of homework as Sue walked over to greet my counsellor. She smiled at Jo and then looked her up and down.

“This is Jo,” I shouted. “My shrink!” before dropping my books on the damp driveway.

I knew Sue wouldn’t be happy to hear me broadcasting it to the neighbours. It would bother her, but not as much as Jo’s orange hair or her black leather jacket and pants. Jo towered over her—thanks mainly to her stilt-like boots—but my adopted mother was remarkably calm and receptive.

While I struggled on my knees, trying to save my schoolwork, Sue invited her in for a coffee and showed no outward signs of surprise over Jo’s slightly unorthodox attire.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stay Mrs Taylor. I was just dropping Robbie home.”

I could sense relief from Sue, but she wasn’t going to let her leave without questioning her on my progress. I got the feeling, that’s what Jo wanted.

“Your son’s doing fine, Mrs Taylor, but there are some serious issues which are holding him back and to be honest, I’m very concerned.”

Sue was unusually abrupt and defensive with her reply. “Yes, we’re aware of those issues, that’s why he needs counselling.”

“Good because they’ll need to be addressed before any real progress can be made. And that’s not something I can do.”

“I kind of thought that was your job!”

“No, Mrs Taylor. I’m here to help Robbie, but he’s not the one with the issues. I’m guessing you already know that.”

I bit my lip and remained in the background as the colour drained from Sue’s cheeks.

“What are you implying?”

“There’s nothing wrong with your son. He’s a perfectly healthy teenager. It’s his home environment that’s causing the problems.”

Sue looked troubled, and she had every right to be. It was a direct challenge to her parenting, placing the blame squarely at her doorstep.

“You’re referring to my husband, aren’t you?”

Jo reached into her pocket and handed Sue a business card. “Your husband needs help. I only work for the schools, but there are people I know who he can turn to. It’s important he seeks this help. I’m sorry, Mrs Taylor, but you can’t expect Robbie to improve unless he does. It’s not a crime to be gay; neither is it an illness or a disability. Robbie doesn’t need counselling because of his sexuality, he needs it because of your reaction to his sexuality. If your husband is having trouble understanding this, then he can call me. But if the problem isn’t addressed soon, then for his protection, I’ll be forced to remove Robbie from your care.”

I had waited a long time to hear those words, but afterwards, I felt sorry for Sue. She didn’t look like her heart was in it, and lacked the conviction to offer any defence. Maybe she realised Jo had her beat. I knew my counsellor had plenty more ammunition if needed, and it was a pity she didn’t get to confront Don, but Sue would do it for her.

I watched Jo drive off into the sunset and then kept out of Sue’s way for the rest of the evening. When Don came home, I heard them whispering in the kitchen, but the expected argument didn’t materialise, and he didn’t implode. Later that evening though the front door slammed, and Don’s car vanished for the rest of the night.