Still comforted by the effects of Xanax, the world kept its distance. It was a dream which had happened just recently until she remembered too closely her loss. But this was safely secured and put out of the way under the help of the tranquilizer. And then she would weep for Phoebe and all that she meant to her.
Strange, but this time, it was worse than losing her father. How was that possible when she barely knew Phoebe, but she had come to love her with that special love. A woman’s love for another woman is more beautiful than for a man. She had lost someone greater than herself, and no one understood. Don’t men love other men with a passion? Doesn’t a man understand how another man thinks far better than his love for a woman?
How she loved Phoebe. How she ached to see her face, the lyric of her English voice when speaking the same language. What will she do without her? Her future had been planned with Phoebe, like twins they were living the same timeline. Now smashed and deliberately ruined by death. The whole of her life looked at her and stared back in judgment.
Did God hate her? He must do. He took the only special person from her again. And then, she would find herself weeping for the loss of happiness. Wait until the night when the sleeping tablets would take away her grief. Now Cecelia understood why people became junkies. Why they took themselves away from the ugliness of society to thirst their grief with alcohol and get out of their heads.
But what were her plans going to be for her future? What future? She didn’t care.
‘If I had known,’ it was Detective Travis's voice. These voices came and went with lives of their own in the strange white inhabited dream. ‘Will she get over it?’ another voice. ‘It should have been me, not her.’ A familiar voice because it was her own. She fell asleep not wanting to awake anymore.
‘Hello Cecelia,’ a shape appeared from out of the white haze. A friendly and warm voice.
Somebody was sitting with her and smiling. Had she died? She would be grateful for that; an angel was sitting beside her.
‘It’s me,’ the face still smiled. ‘I’ve been sitting beside you for two hours. You remember me, don’t you? Your friend, Mary Ann Leigh. I’m here for you in your hour of need. And I know all about what happened. I know how you are feeling. You are struggling to understand what has happened to your world. But you are not on your own anymore, Cecelia. Please open your eyes and look at me.’
‘Go—away.’
‘Now, why did I think you would say that? When I know you are not ungrateful.’
‘I don’t want you here, don’t you understand? I want to be left on my own.’
‘But the world goes on no matter what has happened, Cecelia. You are feeling sorry for yourself. But it’s got to stop. You understand that. No matter how you feel, you’ve got to carry on living.’
‘For fuck’s sake, get the hell out of here,’ Cecelia had opened her eyes and raised her head in temper. How she hated this woman. It should have been her who was murdered.
‘Well, I suppose that’s a little improvement with interesting language. And you are a scholar,’ Mary Ann was smiling.
‘Go away. I want to die. Just go away,’ Cecelia hated this woman more than she had ever hated her mother. How was that possible? How was anything possible in this cold world?
‘Yes, I know you want to die, Cecelia. It’s obvious you want to die. You’ve been here for four days refusing to respond. But you can’t stay here forever.’
‘Why are you here?’ Consciousness left out in the cold can suddenly rush back in. ‘What are you doing here? How did you know I was in the hospital?’
‘Well, is this something like gratitude? I take it as if it is. For the first time, you are interested in me.’
Cecelia’s stark eyes looked without comprehension at Mary Ann.
‘I suppose you can call it a little bit of luck if finding you here in the hospital is lucky. You know I’m housebound because of my fears,’ she stared at Cecelia waiting for her to realize what a momentous act she had made to visit her. ‘Yes, well, perhaps you want to forget this for the time being because your grief and problems are far bigger than mine. I heard there was another murder on the news. I was shocked, well I think everyone is shocked. Anyhow, when this sort of news comes out, you always think to yourself about the people in your life, which in this case was you. I thought my God, I hope the Slasher hasn’t got you.’
Cecelia stared hard at Mary Ann, partly hating and partly loathing but also waiting for her to go.
‘Cecelia, you can’t lie here for the rest of your life, not only because it’s not good for you but also because it’s expensive. Listen, my dear, you’ve got to live. From what I understand, you hardly knew her.’
‘Shut your mouth. You know nothing about me,’ Cecelia shouted. The sedation was slipping away.
‘Yes, I’m sorry. You are right, except perhaps that I care about you.’
‘I don’t want you caring about me.’
‘There is no one else to care for you Cecelia, you can’t afford to be too fussy. When I heard about the murder, I was worried. I wondered where you could be, but you seemed to fall off the planet. I telephoned your house and left a message. In fact, I left several messages. The voicemail must have got sick of my voice.’
Would she not go away?
‘By now, I was very worried about you. I was convinced that the sixth victim was you. Oh, how I said my prayers. And then I remembered you worked with the police, and that’s when I told William to find out if you were there. It was over two days ago when we discovered you were in hospital…’
‘How did you get into see me?’
Mary Ann put a hand to her mouth to cover it while she laughed. For some reason, she thought what Cecelia said was funny.
‘I told the staff on duty that I was your cousin.’ Her cheerfulness became confidential. ‘If I didn’t, I believe they wouldn’t have allowed me to see you. You have been very ill, Cecelia. I don’t believe you understand the validity of your recent actions. There was talk about sectioning you. And once they put you in a locked hospital, you’d never get out. And I mean, never.’
Cecelia refused to look at this giant of a woman, who resembled more of an angel and not a monster from hell.
‘Perhaps Cecelia, you are too ill to understand what I’m saying. This is where you’re vulnerable and why you need to be looked after. As the only friend you have, I have taken it upon myself to do something about your situation. And so, Cecelia, I have saved you.’
What was she talking about?
‘Did you know you tried to shoot Detective Travis?’
Shoot Detective Travis?
‘I can see by your eyes you didn’t. You must have gone mad, but fortunately for you, the Detective is not pressing charges. You frightened a lot of people that day.’
Cecelia heard but didn’t understand. This can’t be true. Mary Ann was making this up. There was nothing in her memory to remind her she had done that. Something was tapping on her arm, an unseen warning, nudging its nose and staring at her. No, her mind was clear of that accusation.
‘I see you don’t believe me. And I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I had not read on your notes. Your actions frightened everyone, which is the reason why you are in this room on your own. The staff is keeping an eye on you, and you can’t blame them. You are dangerous, Cecelia that is a lot of power to have.’
Looking about her, frightened eyes with frightening thoughts, this safe place was not so safe as it was before. A restroom had suddenly become a tomb, and prison to contain her. She tried to lift herself, but her limbs would not obey their liberty because they had been clipped. She hadn’t noticed before that her wrists were bound. The cot in which she lay had wrist attachments. Her security had suddenly become a nightmare, the hands of control had taken away her freedom.
‘I’m going home now,’ said Mary Ann, standing and brightening her face with an overly cheerful smile. ‘But I’ll come and see you tomorrow.’ She went across to the mirror an
d took an appreciative look at her reflection. ‘You need all the friends you can get with the way things are looking for you. But perhaps we can sort something out about that.’
Coming across, she pecked the top of Cecelia’s head with a cold red kiss.
‘William is in the waiting room waiting for me. I’m so lucky to have him.’ She touched her hair in reassurance. ‘He’s been so good to me. Funnily enough, he asked to see you,’ she laughed. ‘But by the look on your face, I am glad I said no. I told him that Cecelia is not well now, she won’t like anyone seeing her in this state. He’s so good, he does everything I say, and I do believe anything. You don’t look well, Cecelia. You’ve lost a great deal of weight; your face looks gaunt and haggard. It is not a pleasing effect. But it’s nothing which can’t be sorted with food and kindness. Well, I’m going before I outstay my welcome. Too-da-loo, as the English say.’
Gloved hands, Mary Ann opened the door and cheerfully left Cecelia.
It was a relief. Two hours later, Detective Travis came to see a conscious Cecelia. She had eyed her resents and passively kept thinking. If this were madness, perhaps she would give in to it. At least, she wouldn’t know who she was anymore.
‘I was visiting James Patts, and I thought I would see how you are,’ said Detective Travis, entering. Her professional eyes scrutinized Cecelia with a detective’s mind.
‘Did I tried to kill you?’ this impossible question had been haunting Cecelia.
‘Who told you that?’
‘Then it’s true.’
‘Miss Clark; don’t be too hard on yourself. You weren’t in your right mind, and it was my fault.’
‘Why didn’t you put me in prison? Surely trying to kill a law enforcer is tantamount to being criminal. I should have been put in prison.’
‘Yes, it is, but…’
‘Then why am I not in prison.’
‘Do you want to be in prison?’ Travis was confused.
‘If I deserve it.’ Her anger hunted her down. Mr. Davis had passed on his bad luck to her.
Taking a deep and necessary breath, Detective Travis redressed her thoughts. ‘You saw something you should not have seen, a photograph. It should not have happened, but it did and I’m sorry. I was thoughtless, I had forgotten you were a civilian. It’s as much my fault what happened…’
‘What trying to kill you?’ Oh, how ridiculous.
‘Yes. I needed someone to talk to. You were a good person to exercise out my thoughts, but I went over the limit. I thought we had a good rapport, but I didn’t know—not in a thousand years that you knew the victim. I showed you a picture you weren’t prepared for, especially to see the death of a friend.’
‘Is Phoebe dead? Is she really dead?’ Cecelia’s face screwed into a ball. The nightmare she hoped wasn’t true, became fact.
‘Yes, she is dead. Yes, Cecelia, cry. Cry for the loss of your friend. Don’t give in to the madness which deprives you of your person, your English friend wouldn’t have wanted that for you.’
Such great and inconsolable tears fell down Cecelia’s cheeks. Impossible to hide her face away because of the bands around her wrists. Not the most tactile of women, Detective Travis stood awkwardly and tried to put her arm around Cecelia.
‘I don’t want to live anymore without her,’ sobbed Cecelia. ‘She was my friend, the only real friend I ever had,’ her words mumbled with tears.
‘I don’t want to hear you talking like that,’ clumsily, Travis patted Cecelia’s hand. To give up on life when it’s so precious. God doesn’t give this life to everyone. How could she show Cecelia that life was worth living? ‘You have had one good friend; you will have many more…’
‘No, you don’t understand, I find friendships difficult.’
‘Sure, but not impossible. Nothing is impossible if you want it. The art of life is in not giving up. While the skill of love is not being afraid to be hurt. You are a good person,’ Travis looked into Cecelia’s eyes to command her grief. No one wants to be hurt. I don’t, and most of the world doesn’t. But you’ve got to go on and give other people a chance. You’ve had a good friendship with this woman, so don’t throw it away, Cecelia. Rejoice in the time you had with her.’
Travis stayed longer with Cecelia than she should have, knowing she was needed at the station. But her concern for Cecelia demanded that she give more of herself than normal. There was a long journey ahead for this troubled woman.
Comforted now by a Xanax, Cecelia settled down into a long and healthy sleep. Against her will, the healing had started.
Every day, Mary Ann came faithfully to see her, always patient and happy with tales of entertainment about her acting career. At first, Cecelia refused to listen, but Mary Ann’s stubbornness for she knew best for Cecelia, brought after the second day that first smile. William, she told Cecelia, had made a difference to her life. Perhaps one day, Cecelia would meet him. Maybe she would meet someone like William. No, no one, not anymore shuddered Cecelia angrily. Didn’t she understand that Phoebe was special?
‘Yes, I understand,’ said Mary Ann gently.
The days became longer, digging into their promises of what they could give. Mary Ann brought Cecelia light reading material to pass her time away in the hospital while everything about the Alandra Slasher case was kept out of her way. She was not to be taxed on anything until she was well enough.
When Mary Ann arrived a week later, it was to find that Cecelia’s wrist bands were off. The first concrete evidence that Cecelia was getting better. A psychiatrist had spoken to her and found that her grief had made her temporarily insane, and although she was still suffering from loss, Cecelia was now dealing with it. Still reluctant to discharge her from care, he left Cecelia’s room just as Mary Ann entered.
The following day brought more news. Mary Ann glowing with good tidings entered Cecelia’s room.
‘The psychiatrist is going to discharge you this weekend with the promise that you must see him three times a week for the first month or so.’ Her lemon-colored dress and her long golden blond hair made her look like an angel especially with those striking blue eyes. With her shoulders back, slim, and attractive and at five feet eight with heels making her five feet eleven, Mary Ann promoted strength. She was obviously still working out. But, more than anything, Mary Ann looked happy, she looked like an angel in her happiness. Mary Ann was in love.
‘I understand Cecelia that you won’t have anywhere to stay when you’re discharged.’
‘I still have my home.’
In such a short time so much had happened. Now that she knew that the bad hand of madness had not been able to claim her, a different resolve was awakening. What was she going to do with the time that she had? Yet no one thought to tell her just what was going to happen to her next.
‘You are not going home, Cecelia that was one of the conditions of your release,’ Mary Ann pulled herself up to show the full command of her height. ‘You’ll be discharged to me for the first few weeks.’
‘To you. I’m not a dog on a license. I might have had a minor breakdown, but I’m still in charge of myself.’ A ridiculous idea to stay with Mary Ann when all the time she had tried to resist her.
‘Let people help you, Cecelia. You need to let people into your life,’ coaxed Mary Ann. ‘This was the big mistake you made last time. You put too much trust in this other woman, Phoebe, when you hardly knew her.’ Mary Ann’s charm had reverted to anger.
‘I knew her better than you thought I did—and I loved her. She was the best friend I ever had.’
But Mary Ann wasn’t listening she had turned her back on Cecelia, clasping her hands together while making plans of her own.
‘You will stay in the next room to mine. Do you remember you saw it when you went to the bathroom?’
The picture of Sarah came into Cecelia’s mind.
‘That’s the room you will have. I have been redecorating it. William has been helping me. He is looking forward to you coming to stay with me
.’
‘I’m not coming to live with you, no matter how temporary,’ said Cecelia fuming while feeling her life again was being taken out of her hands.
‘Then you will be staying in the hospital for a considerable time,’ said Mary Ann. ‘Don’t you see your stubbornness is working against you? You need to change the way you behave Cecelia. It has already got you into a great deal of trouble. Four weeks, that’s all you need to do. Four weeks with me and then you can return to your life. You’ve got to prove to the psychiatrist you can be trusted.’
Hating the loss of control, Cecelia sealed her lips together. It just wasn’t fair.
‘Anyhow, think about it. I told the psychiatrist you have agreed to stay with me until you get something sorted out for yourself. William is going to help as well. He said he will do the footwork for you. Go and look at rooms to rent until your house is ready for you again. For goodness’ sake Cecelia, don’t be stubborn. You’ll only open yourself up to a potential breakdown,’ she was exasperated. ‘I know you’re not stupid—in fact, far from it. Do something wise for yourself.’
Leaning back into the orthopedic easy chair, Cecelia eyed Mary Ann with meanness.
‘I would like you to think of me as your friend. Oh Cecelia, why are you always so stubborn?’
18
Despite every caution taken to keep all news from Cecelia, she heard about the latest reports of the Alandra Slasher. People were coming forward with sightings. A few people had been interviewed but none had been detained. On the whole, the police still weren’t any wiser. Someone in their community, perhaps the person living next door, the man stacking the cases in the supermarket, or even the friendly policeman, all were potential rapists until the culprit was caught.
While Cecelia’s mind lay dormant, stirred by nothing. Even when she thought of Phoebe, it was from a distance, helped by the Xanax, it kindly clouded her mind. Her thoughts did not progress any further than that, what did it all mean? What was the point of any friendship when it was always taken away? Never in her life had she had any success, not even with Thomas. If there was anyone who was the love of her life, it had to be him. But, oh what a fool she had been especially in front of his wife. The rules of the game are they should tell you they are married first before picking the flowers. But, if she had known, would she have walked away from him? Yes.
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