What Goes Around: A chilling psychological thriller by Julie Corbin

defiant. Mark is at the other end of the sofa, his arms folded against her as she stares along at him. ‘Nothing?’ she says. ‘You have nothing to say to that?’ Mark still doesn’t respond and Alison turns challenging eyes towards me. With couples therapy I have to resist taking on the role of referee, so I don’t say anything either. Alison closes her eyes and rests her head back. I watch her shoulders drop and her limbs relax on the sofa as if she’s falling asleep.
    A minute passes before Mark says to me, ‘Sorry about that. We’ve had a difficult week. Alison works hard; she’s tired. And when she’s tired she gets angry—’
    ‘Apologising for me now?’ Alison’s eyes snap open. ‘Like I’m some badly behaved teenager!’
    He shakes his head, in a pretence of tolerance. ‘You’re always so dramatic.’
    ‘I wonder why that is?’ she says.
    ‘It’s important not to speak in anger.’
    ‘Like you, you mean?’ She snorts with laughter. ‘You’re the angriest person I know. You just hide it well.’
    This is an astute observation and I hope that Mark will address it but he doesn’t.
    ‘I love you, Alison,’ he says. ‘And I want us to adopt a baby.’
    Alison’s head drops onto her knees and her body shakes. At first I think she’s crying but when she sits up straight again, I see she’s laughing.
    ‘I have to tell you, Leila,’ she says. ‘That once upon a time Mark loved me because I was dynamic and hardworking. Now he finds me tired and angry. Yesterday he accused me of lying when I said I enjoyed my job. I do enjoy my job. I complain about it sometimes, but doesn’t everyone?’ She throws out her arms, her expression questioning. ‘He told me he knows when I’m not being truthful because I have a certain look on my face. He’s constantly defining the way I am and if I tell him otherwise he doesn’t believe me.’
    She looks to Mark for a response but he has tuned out. He is quietly smiling to himself as if he’s remembering something amusing.
    ‘This is him all over,’ Alison says. ‘He presses my buttons and then just drifts off as if it’s got nothing to do with him.’ She stands up and walks behind the sofa. ‘I’m married to a man who says he loves me but his love feels like control.’ She pulls at the collar of her blouse. ‘It strangles me.’ She walks backwards and forwards several times, then sits down again. ‘So what do you think I should do, Leila?’
    I wait a few seconds before I reply in case Mark wants to add anything. My personal feeling is that their relationship has run its course. They seem to be forever torturing one another with accusations and counter-accusations. If I was her, I’d have cut and run some time ago. But I’m the last person to question the ties that bind us so I keep my opinion to myself. ‘Alison, you know I can’t tell you what to do,’ I say. ‘Therapy is a safe space to explore loss, to recognise behaviour patterns and to resist the urge to blame each other.’ I pause long enough to take a slow breath. ‘All I can do is help you both to articulate your feelings so that you can come to the decision that’s right for you, as individuals and as a couple.’
    This falls on deaf ears and Mark says to me, ‘All I want is for Alison to be happy.’
    ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Alison throws her head back and adds sharply, ‘Shut up about me and talk about yourself!’
    There follows thirty-five minutes of wrangling and I do my best to steer them away from reproach and towards reflection. It’s subtle work but it’s a process I’m skilled at. Towards the end of the fifty minutes they are almost listening to each other – and then the session ends.
    ‘Same time next week?’ Mark says.
    ‘Of course,’ I reply.
    As they leave the room Alison’s hand tentatively reaches for Mark’s and I hear them discuss what they’re going to eat for dinner that evening. I close the door behind them and immediately listen to