I break the silence as we pull up to George’s house and I can almost feel the collective sigh of relief in the car.
“Let me see the report, George.”
He brings the car to a complete stop and addresses me, “Of course.” When we enter, he motions me to follow him through to his study. I take a seat as he fumbles through his filing cabinet. In no time he produces a bulky folder which I assume are my case notes. He leafs through it then locates what he is looking for and hands it over to me. “Everything you need to know is in here. I will give you some peace to look through it.”
I sit with the report on my lap for some time as I summon the courage to open it. It feels like a heavy weight crushing my thighs and burning its way through the denim of my jeans, penetrating the flesh underneath. The words I feel sure I am about to read permanently branding my skin with ‘psychosis’ and ‘psychotic episodes.’
My sisters are nowhere to be seen. Instead, joining me now in the room is James. It doesn’t occur to me to even question how he came to be here. It just feels as natural as the air I breathe seeing him stood there.
“You know you don’t have to open that file if you don’t want to. They are all saying you are crazy but what if the opposite is true? What do you really know about this George character? Do you not believe in me? Do you not trust in Caroline, Juliet, and I?! We have been a part of your life for a lot longer than he has. We were here long before what happened at Neist Point!”
“Of course I do. At the same time, I simply have to read this report.”
I turn my attention downwards to the neatly typed report. Its heading – ‘Psychiatric Evaluation: Master Thomas James Taylor of Fair Isle Croft, Dunvegan, Isle of Skye.’ At the foot of the front page – ‘Compiled by Edward F. Morton (M.D.); Rowantree Clinic, Glasgow.’
I quickly scan my way through the document which is fairly extensive. At first glance, there appears to be contributions from a psychologist, social worker, occupational therapist, some of the nursing staff from my time in hospital, and several extracts from George detailing our chats during my hospital stay and beyond. However, most of the analysis is from this Edward Morton chap.
I am relieved to find he has provided a summary of his findings at the end of the report, negating the need to read it in its entirety.
“It is my professional opinion, having liaised with many other specialists on the matter and having spent quite some time with Thomas himself, that he is suffering with Psychosis. He is an articulate, intelligent young man but is hallucinating and delusional on a regular basis. He believes he has siblings called Caroline, Juliet, and James. He regularly converses and interacts with these characters, wholeheartedly believing them to be real.
Thomas has had a very traumatic childhood. He had a very difficult relationship with his father (who is currently being investigated by the Police and the Local Authority). To ensure Thomas’ safety he is being placed in foster care whilst investigations are on-going into whether Thomas’ father (Robert Taylor) was in any way responsible for the injuries which Thomas sustained leading to a lengthy hospital stay commencing on 12/02/1998. It is my belief that the trauma he has endured from a very young age and throughout adolescence has caused the Psychosis to manifest.
Whilst in hospital, he experienced a number of psychotic episodes. Hospital staff struggled to deal with the mental health crisis Thomas was enduring and they sought the help of Mr George Traynor, a counsellor specialising in helping children and teenagers with mental health problems. Thomas responded well and has continued to work with Mr Traynor but that alone is not enough to treat his condition. I have prescribed anti-psychotic medication and recommend that he takes this long-term, potentially for the rest of his life.”
I close the file. I guess there was nothing there which surprised me since George had already prepared me. But, seeing it there written in black and white in the form of an official document made it seem all the more real somehow. It literally knocked the stuffing right out of me.
I had to sit with this reality I was being confronted with and consider its validity. Perhaps George was correct. Perhaps everything in this report was correct. Perhaps I am crazy. I made the journey to Skye to revisit my past and deal with, as George so aptly put it, ‘unfinished business.’ There certainly was unfinished business. The world as I previously knew it had literally been blown apart. I felt lost and vulnerable, floundering in unchartered waters.
I raise my head and take in my surroundings. There is no James. This is worrying. Have I really just had a hallucinogenic experience? If I were to stop taking my ‘anxiety pills’ what would the repercussions be? Would I sink further into a deep Psychosis? I shudder at the thought. The words of Mr Morton still ringing in my ears: ‘I recommend he takes the anti-psychotic medication potentially for the rest of his life.’
My feelings of being lost and vulnerable are quickly replaced by a red-hot fury. The hatred I feel for the man who was supposed to be my protector and carer are as raw today as they were on the day he so savagely struck me to the ground at Neist Point. He is the cause of all of it! If what George and the Psychiatrist are saying is true, I created an imaginary world to cope with the daily abuse I suffered at his hands.
The floodgates open. It feels like my soul has been laid bare. A tidal wave of pent-up rage, sadness, and bitterness burst forth. I cry with wild abandon for the poor boy I was, living through that hellish nightmare. I cry for what could have been. What a sad, sad twisted excuse for a human being my father was and still is. Since the day Michael was placed in my arms, it has been my life’s work to love and nurture him. The thought of Michael having to endure even a fraction of what I went through makes me feel physically sick to the stomach.
Even after all this time he is unrepentant and still playing his sick little games. As if mother isn’t going through enough right now, he tormented her by visiting her in her care home and said God only knows what to her. I wish I had been there! I will have my day with him. Man to man. Will he still be so sure of himself then? I am no longer the little boy he so easily dominated.
I am distracted by a persistent knock at the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Janey, please can I come in?” I mumble a feeble “OK.” She bursts into the room. “Thomas, I am so sorry, but I could hear you crying from the other side of the house. I couldn’t just leave you on your own. Come here.” She holds me tightly and I melt into her warm embrace. “Is it the report, darling? Is that what has got you so upset?”
“That and the fact that it feels as though none of my life makes any sense anymore! It has all been based on fantasy. I am upset but I am so angry at the same time. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for that pathetic, sadistic father of mine.”
“That is very true, sweetheart. No-one should have to go through what you went through.”
We sit in silence for several minutes then Janey looks at me square in the face. “Do you think you will go and see him whilst you are here?” It is a fair question and one I have wrestled with.
“On the one hand, I could do to put an ocean-sized distance between us. But, on the other hand, part of me desperately wants to confront him, to ask him things I wasn’t able to as a young boy. The main one being ‘why?’ Why did you put mother and I through it all? Why didn’t you get me the help I clearly needed when I was mentally ill?”
“That makes sense, and it might give you some closure on everything.”
Janey goes quiet again then starts fidgeting and shifting about in her seat.
“What is it? Is everything OK?” I hear her take a couple of deep breaths before she answers me.
“No, not really. There is something which has been playing on my mind too, Thomas. Please know that I have wanted to tell you this before. There have been many occasions when I thought about it, but it genuinely never seemed like the right time. That is not a cliché. I just felt before that it might do more harm than good.”
I interject, I can’t help it. “God Janey, you’ve got me worried! What is it? The last thing I need right now is more bad news.”
“I know, I know. But I have thought about this long and hard, and I can’t think of a better time to tell you. You are here to learn the truth about your past and I can’t keep this from you any longer … When your father struck you at Neist Point, I witnessed it. It was me who phoned for the ambulance.”
CHAPTER 23
I
am flabbergasted, thoroughly dumfounded. I look at my wife as though she is a stranger. How could this be? I started this journey not knowing what to expect and I have now learned that I have a mental illness and my wife (my soulmate and confidant whom I thought I knew everything about) hits me with this – ‘when your father struck you at Neist Point, I witnessed it.’
I turn to her to form some words but nothing tangible comes out, only garbled noises. “Oh Thomas, I am so sorry. Please, please believe me I have wanted to tell you – long before now! I know you are going to be in shock, you have every right to be. Do you want me to give you some space or do you want me to explain what happened?” This time there is no hesitation or any garbled words.
“You better explain it and it had better be good.”
“OK, I will tell you everything. I don’t know if I have mentioned it before or not, but I too have some relatives on Skye.”
“No Janey, I can’t say you have! Another revelation!” She ignores my jibe and carries on.
“I have lost contact with family here. The main contact I had was with an aunt, but she has since passed away, leaving two cousins who I never hear from. My aunt had a small flat in Portree but when my visit was arranged back in 1998, she thought it might be fun for us to rent accommodation at the lighthouse keepers’ cottages at Neist Point.”
She pauses. Reality dawns. She saw it all from the window of the lighthouse keepers’ cottage. “Go on.”
“I remember how wild it was that day. I heard voices outside and that’s why I went to the window to look out. I was shocked anyone would be out there in those conditions. The wind and snow were fierce. I could see something wasn’t right. There were raised voices. At first, I could see you race to the tip of Neist Point, engaged in a conversation. Then an older man joined you. And, well, you know the rest.”
“That’s just it, Janey, I don’t! Who did you see out there that day? Did you see Caroline?”
“No, there was no-one there apart from you and the man I now know to be Bert.”
“So, what are you saying? You saw me conversing with an imaginary figure before father joined me?”
She hangs her head, “Yes.” Like a jigsaw puzzle, all the little pieces were starting to come together. There was more and more undeniably compelling evidence affirming that Caroline, Juliet, and James were not real.
“So, let me just get this straight … when father struck me down, he didn’t hit anyone else with that blow?”
“No, that would have been impossible, there was no-one else out there apart from you and him. And what you said earlier was correct. Bert did shake someone violently before he landed that blow, only it wasn’t Caroline. As George explained, it was you.”
The walls are closing in. “You have blown my mind, Janey. I have so many questions! All this time, all these years which have gone by and you expect me to believe that you couldn’t find the right time to tell me? What was it you said? Something along the lines of ‘it doing more harm than good.’ Surely keeping this to yourself is doing more harm than good – for our relationship! Also, there is the small matter of how the fuck did we end up in a relationship in the first place? Did you pursue me? Did you take pity on poor little Thomas? And then what, when the time was right, you swooped in and made your move?” She tries to speak but I silence her, I am on a roll and will not be interrupted. “And I have shared moments with you when I have opened up and told you I had a difficult upbringing. I held back! I held back, Janey, because I didn’t want to put any of this on you but all the while you must have been sat there thinking ‘yes I know only too well what it was like for you!’”
“I can explain! The reason I didn’t tell you when we had chats about your childhood was because I could see how painful it was for you. And I was terrified that it would drive a wedge between us. That might seem selfish keeping it to myself, being worried about ‘rocking the boat’ but up until now you seemed so happy in your life. Yes, there were times when I was concerned (we had a chat about that earlier), but you always seemed to pull yourself out of it. Having Michael and raising him brought so much joy to our lives it just didn’t seem right to hit you with this.
“As you can imagine, I was understandably concerned when you said you were coming here. It was all very mysterious at the start – you had me thinking (briefly) that you were maybe having an affair.”
“An affair?”
“Well, I kept trying to reach you on the phone and there was no answer. So, I phoned your Inverness branch since you said this is where you were going to be based but they had no record of you arriving and they weren’t expecting you either. Not only that, I managed to locate the accommodation you had booked in Skye only to discover there was no Thomas there so I told the proprietor I would take your place and that’s where I have been staying ever since I got here. I was more than relieved to find out you were staying with George and there was no other woman involved! When I realised the truth about why you came here, I was so relieved I could be here to support you. Now that you are learning about what really happened here, it just seemed like the right time.”
“OK, assuming I can digest what you have just told me, please tell me how we came to be together. I am all ears, truly!”
“First of all, Thomas, I may be many things but I am not a predator. I never ‘pursued’ you. Seeing you lying there that day left for dead in that violent storm, it really affected me too. In that respect I could not get you out of my head for a long time. I couldn’t shake the vision of Bert lashing out so savagely at you like that either. Then racing off as if he’d just tossed a piece of rubbish to the ground. It was horrific. So yes, at that time to a degree I did pursue you because I periodically checked in with my aunt to see how you were doing. She knew an acquaintance of your mother’s. I learned you had moved in with foster parents and I was so pleased to hear you weren’t going back home.
“That was the extent of it, just the odd question to my aunt now and again. And it was born out of genuine concern for your wellbeing and nothing more. There was no subterfuge, no masterplan to find out where you were and to dig my claws in. Surely you know me well enough now to know that is not how I operate.
“When we first met it was entirely coincidental and I don’t regret it, I bless that day. I started at Edinburgh University completely unaware that you were on the same campus. I am not lying to you. I swear I had no idea. I first saw you (as you know) when I joined the debating team. I recognised you immediately but kept my distance. If I am honest, I was completely in awe of you. The way you had turned your life around and how accomplished you were when you put your argument forwards … Things only progressed when you asked me out for coffee and well, you know the rest of the story. I am sure you can appreciate at that point there was no way I could tell you what I know. You were clearly well on the road to recovery. The last thing I wanted to do was to set you back. Then when we became close, it just never seemed like the right time to tell you. I am sorry though, sweetheart, truly sorry. I hope you can find it in your heart to accept that and we can move on from this.”
She looks at me for some reassurance, but I have nothing to give. I am completely spent. I cannot remember a day like it. My mind has shut down involuntarily and is incapable of taking any more in. I make my excuses and head in the direction of the bedroom to lie down.
With my mind in utter turmoil, there is no chance of any sleep coming my way but sitting alone with my thoughts still seems preferable than engaging in any further conversation. I
do not want to run the risk of hearing any more revelations today thank you very much! It is all too much to process. My heart attempts to reason with my head, affirming that I simply need time to sit with it, to digest it all. Then my head catapults into orbit, darting this way and that, spinning out of control. What I have heard today has shaken me to the very core of my being and I question whether I will ever be at ease with it all.
George knocks on my door a couple of hours later to tell me dinner is served. Like a robot I mechanically go through the motions of eating what has been put down for me. It could have been haute cuisine or prison gruel for all I cared. I could sense Janey desperately trying to read me for any sign that I was coming around and processing what she divulged earlier. But there was no way I was ready to play happy families just yet.
After dinner I head out alone onto the deck. It is a blessing. A combination of the fresh air and the noise of the water gently lapping up against the rocks has a soporific effect, taking me out of my head and making me feel drowsy. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long. George pulls up a chair next to me.
“Apologies Thomas, I know it was a hell of a lot for you to take on board today. There really was no easy way to tell you and it was impossible to sugar-coat it. You need (and deserve) to know the truth. Anyway, I don’t want to bombard you any further. I just came out to check on you.” He gets us to leave. I must be a glutton for punishment. It’s out before I remember the vow I made to myself earlier in the evening not to engage in any more conversation.
“Whilst you are here, there is something which has been niggling away at me.”
“Go on, ask away.”
“It doesn’t quite add up, George. Your crusade to bring me back to confront my demons. The ‘unfinished business.’ I mean, I understand it from my perspective, but what is in it for you? Why go to the bother of tracking me down all these years later and put me up in your house etc.? What do you gain from all of this?”
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