the few occasions I turn off my phone and try to enjoy some downtime with Alex in the evening, I’m always aware that some of my clients are suffering. And however much I tell myself it’s okay, because this is home and that’s work – it isn’t. Not for me. The abuse doesn’t stop after 5 p.m. when I leave for the day. I can’t shut the door on these kids when I get home and pretend everything’s okay. And with Christmas round the corner, it can be an especially difficult time. Where the season is fun and exciting for many teens, it’s something far darker for others. This is my job, and it’s also my life, and I understand it can’t be easy for Alex, who must sometimes feel as if he’s taking second place to my work, and the mess of human life involved.
‘You understand, don’t you?’ I say now. ‘I just need some time to sort everything out.’
‘I have stuff too,’ he says. ‘I’m working on a big case. It’s important, but not more important than you,’ he huffs.
‘Whoa hang on, Alex, I’m not saying my work’s more important. But you have to understand the kind of work I do is sometimes 24/7 – it has to be, because troubled kids don’t do nine to five.’
‘Now you’re being sarcastic.’ He sighs.
‘I’m just saying it isn’t office hours, and sometimes I need to have some space, to be able to think about what’s happening, to make and receive private phone calls.’
‘Private? Space? But I’m your partner, aren’t I?’
‘Yeah, but it wouldn’t be ethical to make client calls in front of you. Even at the office, we have a small room we can go in to make confidential calls out of respect to our clients.’
‘I understand that, but I don’t see why you have to go back to your flat to have some space, there’s plenty here. And you have to strike a balance – being a social worker doesn’t mean you can’t have a personal life. There are emergency helplines, you know.’
‘Yes there are. But I didn’t become a social worker to only be available during office hours – these kids need to know I’m there for them. With someone else, they might feel unsafe… betrayed.’
Alex comes over to me and puts his arm around me. ‘I understand, my work’s confidential too, but you could just go into another room, or I could?’
‘No, I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave a room in your own house because I’m working there, it’s not fair on you. And I just need the space, the peace… you know?’
First Jas, now Alex. All I want is some ‘me’ time to focus on my work and my clients. I’m beginning to feel slightly claustrophobic in my own life.
‘Of course, I understand. You need to be alone somewhere quiet to work, it’s the nature of what you do. I can see that,’ he says, finally giving in. He squeezes my upper arm, and kisses my cheek.
‘Thanks, sweetie.’ I kiss him back, surprised at how easily he accepted this; he usually doesn’t take no for an answer.
‘So you’re going to work from your flat Wednesday and Thursday evening. Is that what you said?’ He’s picking up our mugs.
‘Yeah. Well – I’m actually going to work on Thursday night, but I’m going out tomorrow with Jas.’
He stands up straight, still holding the mugs, still smiling, but it’s slightly stiffer now. ‘You’re going out with Jas? But I thought you had work to do. I thought that’s the whole reason why you’re not staying here.’
‘Alex,’ I moan, ‘stop. I just want to spend a couple of nights in my flat. And I can tie it in with a night out with Jas.’
‘I don’t understand why you’d want to spend an evening with her and not me. You said last week she was getting on your nerves, that she was bossy.’
I am exasperated. Can men ever understand the subtleties, the complex bonds, the conflicting feelings around female friendships? ‘Sometimes, I don’t like her. But she’s my best friend, and I love her. It’s difficult to grasp, I know, but we have such a laugh when we’re together, and as I said at the weekend, I’ve been a crap friend and neglected her since I met you.’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ he says genuinely.
‘No, don’t apologise, it’s my choice, I want to be with you, I’d rather be with you. But I do enjoy her company,