Chapter 76

76

Roxi

Roxi’s blank stare travelled beyond the figure sitting in the armchair and drifted into her hallway. Next to the front door sat a neatly positioned briefcase and a matching pair of slip-on loafers. She detested them and the faint aroma of cheddar they emitted even from this distance. Their presence had become such a regular occurrence in her home that they felt like a part of the furniture. However, she would not see them or their owner again after this morning. Her and Owen’s four weeks under the eye of a Relationship Responder were finally coming to an end.

Once she had figured out what Adrian, their appointed counsellor, and Owen had wanted to hear from her, their sessions hadn’t been as awful as she’d feared. But they hadn’t been a box of delights either. Always in the back of her mind was a warning to herself that she must toe the line or face the consequences. She had slipped up early on and been caught out. Adrian had access to her online search history and discovered she had been looking for ‘what Relationship Responders want to hear’ and ‘how to pass Level Two’. She had found no answers, learning that, by law, service providers faced steep fines by regulators for hosting such sites in the UK. The only saving grace was that Adrian had not asked to move into their home like some Responders did with their clients.

Week one was the most surreal. He’d advised the family that while he was observing their behavioural dynamic, to pretend as if he wasn’t there. It was no mean feat given he must tip the scales at more than twenty stone. ‘He’s the proverbial elephant in the room,’ Roxi had joked to Owen.

‘Body shaming is a hate crime,’ he’d reminded her.

Adrian was there monitoring everything, from the hum-drum day-to-day routines of meals, family activities and school runs to how present they were for their children’s distance-learning days. His continual presence meant she’d picked up on and amplified his irritating habits, like the tap-tap-tapping of his fingernails as he made notes on his tablet or how he whistled from his nostrils when he exhaled.

Often, when Owen was at work, it was just him and Roxi orbiting the same tiny universe, her always aware of his hawk-like eyes while she read a book, did laundry or binge-streamed a TV series. There was a lot more time to fill now that she had no social media to prepare content for.

The hard work began in week two. Intense Therapy, Adrian had branded it. And it soon became apparent that he was prone to siding with Owen, not her. After one particularly frustrating session in which she was blamed for everything that was wrong in their marriage, Roxi had given serious consideration to calling Adrian out on his bias. But later, when she’d calmed, she’d been glad she hadn’t. Protestations would make her appear hostile and would be as pointless as a footballer arguing with an AI referee’s decision. And it might even prolong the process if she wasn’t seen to be taking constructive criticism on the chin. She had given up so much of herself already, she wouldn’t miss another piece.

Roxi had been expected to open up to Adrian about her entire life, from the baggage she carried from foster care to motherhood and even her sex life, past and present. She played along but the only subject on which she remained tight-lipped was the accidental killing of Antoinette Cooper. Likewise, Owen was also expected to bring honesty to the table. Yet he failed to mention his therapy sessions with Cooper. She knew that confronting him with it would open a can of worms best left sealed and might drag out this process further. However, she was pleased not to be the only one holding back from the absolute truth.

Roxi grew accustomed to Adrian’s presence, like she would an elusive mouse scurrying about her loft. She revealed just enough tiny increments of herself and her thoughts to convince Adrian she was taking the process seriously.

‘Have you heard of the kurinji plant?’ Adrian had asked her out of the blue.

Do I look like bloody Wikipedia? she had wanted to say. She’d shaken her head instead.

‘They’re found in the blue mountains in South India; beautiful little plants that only blossom once every twelve years. You’re like one of those. You can’t be hurried but, once you’re ready to bloom, it’s worth the wait.’

He had laughed and Owen had joined in and she had wanted to take the spade leaning against the shed in the garden and batter them both to death with it.

She was a better actress than she gave herself credit for, though, as, within a few short weeks, he announced their work was complete, and well ahead of schedule.

‘How do you think your communication has changed since you joined Level Two?’ asked Adrian.

‘I used to find myself resenting Roxi when she asked me to do something when she could’ve done it herself but she was too engrossed in social media,’ said Owen. ‘But now I know when she asks for something it’s because she needs my help as her partner and not as an employee.’

Inwardly, Roxi rolled her eyes.

‘Excellent,’ said Adrian. ‘And how does it make you feel to hear that, Roxi?’

‘Like I’m contributing to my husband’s emotional needs,’ she replied. She fought the urge to finish with something dripping in sarcasm.

‘That’s great,’ said Adrian and tap-tap-tapped something else into his tablet. ‘Always remember that a request for help is a way of reminding you how capable and worthy you are of completing that task.’

Roxi and Owen nodded their acceptance of yet another one of Adrian’s pearls of wisdom. There had been enough of them to string together to make a necklace that stretched to hell and back.

‘Okay, folks, well, that pretty much wraps things up for us all. I’m going to head back to the office and leave you to enjoy one another.’ Adrian closed his tablet’s case and let out a final nostril whistle. He explained that, later in the day, he would file his report and a myriad of algorithms would decide if Roxi and Owen’s marriage should continue or if it should go before Family Court magistrates to rule upon. But he assured them that was unlikely.

‘I’ll leave this thought with you,’ he added. ‘So much of our lives are spent trying to solve problems, that we forget marriage is a relationship and not one handicap after another. Keep this in mind and you won’t be seeing the likes of me again.’

All three laughed – again, Roxi’s was contrived – as Adrian rose slowly from his seat, slipped on his cheesy loafers and Owen closed the door behind him.

‘Has he gone?’ came a voice from upstairs on the landing. Darcy was peering out from her bedroom door.

‘Yes,’ Owen replied.

‘Are you still married?’

‘I think so.’ Owen grinned and looked to his wife.

‘Very much so,’ Roxi replied and entwined her fingers around his.

Her well-rehearsed smile had got them through the last few weeks. Now it had to get her through the rest of their lives together.