Page 24 of Conflict

“These sessions have made me realise that I didn’t do anything wrong and I couldn’t have prevented Tom’s death but,” I take a moment to gather myself and calm my racing heart before I carry on, “I still feel like I did something wrong, and I don’t deserve to be happy when Tom’s life was cut short. I still feel bad.” My eyes begin to sting with unshed tears, and my throat feels dry and sore all at the same time. “I keep going back over the session where we talked about there being nothing I could do to stop them driving over the IED. I know, rationally, I couldn’t have warned them, there wasn’t anything that would have prevented the explosion, but… I still feel guilty.” And that’s the bottom line. I cannot get over these feelings of guilt that remain buried in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I’ll never be able to make peace with it.

Dr Munroe holds a box of tissues in front of me, allowing me to take a break and dry my eyes. “Please don’t doubt that you are making progress, good progress in fact. You are well on your way to recovery. Your head is starting to understand it but your feelings need to catch up, and that will come. The CBT you’ve been practicing is what helps with forming alternative thoughts and will help to elicit the emotional change. You just have to keep chipping away at it, piece by piece.” He leans in to fill my water glass again. “The problem is, you’ve drip fed yourself a dietof the type of thinking that has resulted in you feeling guilty. What you need to do now is start a new diet, one where you allow yourself to think truthfully about what happened. Eventually, that will become your new normal.”

Thoughts of happier days dance through my mind’s eye. “I want that. I’ll always feel sad about Tom but if I can get to a place where I don’t blame myself or feel guilty for being alive, that would be the ideal,” I just need to believe I can get to that point now.

“Okay, so let’s take it to the next step, shall we?” He pauses as I adjust my position on my seat for the millionth time. “If you didn’t blame yourself or feel guilty about Tom’s death, would you believe that you deserve to be happy with Scarlett?”

I take a minute to go over that question in my mind before I simply say, “Yes,” Dr Munroe smiles at my answer.

“So, what you need to do now is practice this new way of thinking about the accident and that you are not to blame. Your feelings will catch up with the truth.” He’s settled back in his seat again, comfortable with his teaching. His relaxed body language rubs off on me and my shoulders drop into their normal position, no longer hunched and tight.

A smile pulls at my lips as I contemplate a brighter future. “I supposed it’s a lot like training to use a weapon. We’re trained to do things a certain way over and over again, until it becomes second nature. Our weapons are then an extension of us, a part of who we are.” It’s almost a lightbulb moment for me.

“Exactly. Only this time you’re training your thoughts.” Dr Munroe stands to indicate today’s session is over, “I’ll get my secretary to type up that report for you, my recommendation will be that you are not medically fit to return to active duty. Leave the details of your CO at the desk and I’ll have it emailed across to them in the next day or two.” The relief I feel is instant and Ireach out to shake his hand in thanks before I turn to head out of the clinic.

CHAPTER 33

SCARLETT

Sleep is scarce and scattered with fitful, torturous dreams. I’m trying my hardest to carry on with my life but I’m merely surviving. Confusion, anger and despair courses through my veins in a continual loop and there’s a numbness clouding my judgement. I haven’t been back into work yet; Delia has been quite insistent that I take all the time I need. So, here we are again, back to Mum trying to entice my appetite with picky bits and fancy finger foods. Which she keeps arranging on little wooden boards, and hand delivering to my room at intermittent intervals throughout the day and evening. My only respite is once night falls and I can sit in my room in darkness, forcing her to believe I’ve allowed sleep to drag me under.

As sit scrolling aimlessly through my social media accounts a text message pops up from Rachel.

What are you doing for the next five nights?

The text is quickly backed up with a second message but this one contains a weblink. Curiosity gets the better of me and I click on the link and up pops the most amazing images ofsandy beaches and deep blue oceans. I’m lost to the thoughts of dipping my toes in the sea when Rachel messages again.

We fly out tomorrow morning at 6.30. There’s a spa and it’s all inclusive. Call it an early birthday present. ;)

My eyes scan the text message again, does we really mean Rachel and I? Before I can get my head around what she’s saying my phone rings and I slide my finger across the screen to answer Rachel’s call. “What do you mean ‘we fly out tomorrow’?”

Her laughter is loud and excitable. “Exactly that. You and I are going on holiday. It’s only five nights but it’s on the beach and it’s just what you need,” Rachel’s voice is all giddy and high pitched. “I’ve already paid and its non-refundable, so do me a favour and don’t argue, just pack a case.” I’m speechless, she’s scrambled my brain. “Come on, Scarlett! We’ve talked about doing this for years and never got round to it, well now we can.”

“I don’t know what to say,” there’s a small part of me that wants to be reckless and throw clothes into a suitcase, but the devil on my shoulder is tutting in my ear. “I don’t think running away is the answer,”

“Who said anything about running away? It’s a holiday, and Lord knows you deserve a holiday. We’ll be gone for a few days, not a lifetime.” There’s a sense of irritation in her voice. “It’s also a birthday gift, so you can’t say no. Besides, what else would you be doing, sitting around moping about he-who-shall-not-be-named and crying into your romance novels?”

Rachel’s words ignite a spark in me, and a smile spreads across my face. “I am not crying into a romance novel as you so eloquently put it!” the chuckle that escapes my mouth surprises me but it feels good. “Okay, you’re on. But I’ll pay for my part, send me the details and I’ll transfer the cash once I’ve draggedmy suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe.” I scuttle off the bed and almost skip across the bedroom. Reaching up on tiptoes, I managed to hook the suitcase handle and yank it down. It hits the floor in a clatter. “Oh shit, I think I broke my toe,” I hop around the room clutching my foot as Rachel laughs at my clumsiness. “Well, I don’t think it’s actually broken but if bloody hurts.” I curse.

“Hand luggage only, Scarlett.” She warns me, “I didn’t pay for extra luggage, so pack wisely. And no, you will not pay me back. This is on me, see you tomorrow, bright and early!”

The line goes dead and I pull open my bedroom door. “Mum!” I shout down the staircase. I can hear the scramble as she scrapes her chair across the kitchen floor and her feet slap against the tiled floor.

“Scarlet, what is it, what’s happened?” with a pale face, my mum stares up at me from the hallway. Her hand is rested on her chest as she tries to calm herself. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can I borrow your small suitcase, please? The little red one. Rachel’s booked us a holiday, and I can only take hand luggage. We go early in the morning.” I offer her a very toothy grin and giggle.

Mum looks taken aback but she quickly schools her reaction and her eyes fill with joy. “That’s just what you two need, although God help the others in the hotel once you both arrive.” She makes her way upstairs and when she reaches the top, she wraps me in her arms and squeezes me tightly. “The case is in the airing cupboard. I’m not sure how you’ll manage on hand luggage, though. It’s almost as if Rachel doesn’t know you.” Mum lets go of me to grab the suitcase from the cupboard. “You start packing, I’ll grab you a beach towel and I’m sure we’ve got some of those mini toiletries you can put in clear plastic bag.” She’s on a mission now, searching through baskets in the cupboard where she keeps spares of everything. Witha triumphant grin, she hands me a tiny tube of toothpaste and some shower gel, then she manages to find shampoo and conditioner too. “I knew I had some. I think I stole those from that posh hotel Dad took me to last year.” A rosy glow colours her cheeks, she’s embarrassed to admit she took them. It doesn’t matter how many times in the past I’ve told her that everyone takes them, she still feels a little naughty.

“Thanks Mum,” I take them from her and kiss her cheek. “Will you be okay while I’m gone? It’s only five days.”

“Of course I will, silly. Your dad will keep me busy. You go and have an amazing time, you deserve this.” She shoos me into my bedroom, “Now, get packing.”

CHAPTER 34

JAMIE

“Riley, stop messing about and get those footballs out of the bags,” it’s my first session volunteering with the under thirteens, and I currently feel like I’m pissing in the wind. Whoever said never work with kids and animals had it bang on. This lot know it’s my first rodeo and they’re not making it easy for me.

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