Spellweaver Read Online Free PDF Page B

much about her life, and then she shook
her head.
    “So
your parents had already split up?” Mr Oakley asked, making a note
on his clipboard. “And your mother - oh, I’m sorry. I don’t seem to
have your mother’s name written down.” He looked at her
expectantly.
    “It was Audrey,”
Felicity replied weakly. “Audrey Lucas.”
    There were a few more
scratches of a pen on paper. “When was it that you lost
her?”
    Felicity slipped her
finger between her collar and her neck, tugging at her shirt
uncomfortably. She was not entirely convinced that this was how a
counselling session was supposed to go. “It was in June,” she
answered him at last, and hoped that the interview would end sooner
rather than later.
    “And, uh...” There was
a pause. “How did your mother die?”
    Felicity swallowed.
Was it was getting hotter in the office? “It was a car
accident.”
    Mr Oakley stared hard
at her for what seemed like an age, and she felt compelled to look
away. He made some more notes, slower this time, and then he leaned
back in his chair. “It’s a difficult time, I know. But there are
strategies that we can use to help you manage your grief. I expect
that you’re feeling sad to have lost your mother, angry at her for
leaving you and probably confused at how you’re able to cope.” He
spoke as if he knew her, but Felicity quickly realised that
although he may have had a few details of her life scribbled down
on that hateful pad of his, he didn’t actually know her at
all.
    “The first thing I
want you to do is to write all of your feelings down,” he
continued. “Maybe keep a diary or something. It’s the first step to
being able to talk about it - and we’re going to be spending a lot
of time talking about, Felicity.”
    It sounded like a
threat.
    And then he stood up
and offered her his hand. “Well, that will be all for
today.”
    The heavy atmosphere
instantly shattered, and Felicity could breathe again. She was
stunned, so stunned that she almost didn’t stand up, but her
desperation to get out of the office jerked her into action. She
shook the counsellor’s hand.
    “I’ll
see you again soon,” he said with a smile.
    Wasting no time,
Felicity picked up her satchel and shuffled hastily towards the
door.
    “Oh, and
Felicity?”
    She stopped
dead.
    “Tell Oliver Smith to
come and see me, will you?”
    Relief washed over
her. She nodded, left the room and waited for the musical click of
the door closing behind her, the signal that her ordeal was over.
When it sounded, she finally let out the breath she had been
holding and allowed her heart to beat again. She dabbed at her damp
forehead with her sleeve. Classrooms filled with people, lessons
where she might be expected to make a contribution and even the
constant presence of Hollie were all trivialities compared to that
experience. She leaned on the wall, took a moment to steady her
breathing, and headed to her next lesson.
    She was so grateful to
be out of the counselling session that she barely even noticed how
short it had been.

 
    4.
     
    Later that day,
Felicity once again returned to an empty flat. Her father was
working late, as was his obligation every fortnight or so, so she
had the place to herself. This arrangement suited her quite well,
particularly today, for she was still anxious about her experience
with the school counsellor.
    She wondered if all
counsellors were like Mr Oakley. Were they always so to the point?
It seemed to Felicity to demonstrate a severe lack of tact, but
then perhaps it was a method of forcing her to cope with the loss
she had suffered. Still, although Felicity had not cried after her
mother’s death, she didn’t feel as though she wasn’t coping. She
was getting on with things - she was going to school, she was doing
her homework; she was existing. She highly doubted that she needed
a counsellor, and she was certain she didn’t want one.
    An unexpected knock at
the door came as Felicity was taking a