THE COMPLETE TRILOGY, COMPENDIUM OF THE HEART: An epic love story

by RJ Hunter

  "So what about these 'Freddie' and 'Cindy' characters, where did they come from?"

  Angus paused for a while and thought carefully about how he was going to answer Pauline's question.

  "Dr. Brown has spent a number of years studying and conducting research in the United States. It was there that he begun working with patients diagnosed as suffering from MPD or Multiple Personality Disorder."

  "What's that?"

  "It's a split personality, have you ever heard of that before, Mrs. Gant?"

  "That's ridiculous, I think your doctor has been watching far too many horror films." Exclaimed Pauline with a nervous giggle.

  "MPD is a condition which is widely gaining acceptance in the states. It's relatively unheard of over here. However, some experts are now beginning to recognise it, but there are still many who remain sceptical."

  "So is the doctor sure about this?"

  "Well, he is a leading expert in his field." Replied Angus, with a knowing grin. "He's not usually wrong with his diagnosis. I expect you'll meet him soon."

  "Can he make my daughter well? That's all I want to know."

  "Please listen carefully. I'm not implying at this early stage that Tina has MPD, but she is certainly showing signs of it. I'm going to try and explain some facts as best I can."

  Jonathan was unsure whether it was appropriate for him to remain, and began to get up to leave.

  Pauline, however took his arm and beckoned him to sit back down.

  "Please continue," she urged.

  "Mrs. Gant, this condition has arisen in Tina because of her in-built will to survive. Her mind has created a complex system of so-called characters, who each appear to serve a particular purpose. Take 'Freddie' for example, he is a dominant male character and is perceived to be the strong protector of the system. 'Cindy', on the other hand is the one who copes. She is calm, sensible and articulate, although today was the first time I had ever seen her flirting. It was probably the 'Cindy' character who got Tina through most of her nurse training."

  "Are there anymore of these personalities, and will they go away?" Asked Jonathan, quite shocked.

  "A good point." Replied Angus, thoughtfully. "Yes, there are more personalities, rather a lot more, I'm afraid."

  "Tell me this is not happening, please!" Uttered Pauline, her voice filled with emotion.

  "I'm afraid there's worse to come, Mrs. Gant. There is one extremely malevolent character called, 'Lucinda' who poses an enormous threat to Tina's life. It's likely that 'Lucinda' was involved when Tina tried to take her own life recently."

  "This is absolutely ridiculous!" Barked Pauline, desperate for a drink. "I've never heard so much nonsense in my entire life. Tina's not an actress, she's not appearing in the school play, what with all these different characters you speak of. Come on Jonathan, let's get out of here while we've still got our sanity."

  "Please, let's just hear the rest of it," implored Jonathan. "We need to know, if we're going to help her."

  Angus, irritated by Pauline's attitude, had to be further prompted by Jonathan to continue.

  "There are also a number of child-like persona's. Each one appears to have their own separate identity and demands to be treated like an individual. They will often appear when Tina is relaxed and feels safe, it's as if they were literally coming out to play. Whereas other characters will emerge if Tina feels threatened, like earlier for example."

  "What's caused all this?" Asked Jonathan, out of curiosity.

  Angus looked directly at Pauline.

  "That's the difficult part. From Dr. Brown's research in America, and from our own studies here, it would indicate that many of the sufferers of this condition have at some stage in their lives been subjected to severe trauma. This is often of a sexual nature and has taken place during childhood."

  "Are you saying that my daughter has been interfered with?"

  Angus drew in a deep breath.

  "I would say it's a lot worse than being interfered with, Mrs. Gant."

  "That little bitch has often accused her father of the most appalling things. She even went to the police recently and caused all sorts of problems for Frank."

  "So you don't believe her, Mrs. Gant?"

  "Of course not. She's always been a bit strange, attention-seeking, that sort of thing, always wanting her own way. She's spoilt that's all."

  "I don't think you really understand the gravity of Tina's situation."

  "Why, what has she been saying?"

  "Nothing yet, well not to us anyway. Perhaps she will in time, but that's something she doesn't have too much of."

  "What do you mean?" Demanded Pauline.

  "Mrs. Gant, I can't remember ever having such a suicidal patient here before. Tina is gravely ill, she wants to die, and she's very determined."

  "But this is a secure unit. She wont be able to do anything here?"

  "Hopefully not," replied Angus, looking concerned. "But we all have a massive task on our hands to keep this young woman safe."

  Brenda glanced at her watch, it was nearly seven in the evening. She called over to Tina, who was lying on the mattress in the middle of the floor. She seemed content listening to the personal cassette recorder, that Jonathan had brought in for her.

  "Tina, come on, I'm finishing soon. So if you want a bath, you'd better hurry as the night staff wont let you have one."

  Tina seemed to have settled down quite significantly following the events of earlier that day. Brenda had been assigned to Tina since the patient had first arrived, and a certain measure of understanding had been reached between them. Brenda had nursed high-risk patients on a number of occasions during her fifteen years of service at the hospital, and felt nothing could ever shock or surprise her anymore. It wasn't that she particularly trusted Tina in any way, Brenda was too long in the tooth for that. But she used her vast experience to her advantage, and could spot certain signs in her charge's behaviour. She did allow her patients one or two concessions, as long as they didn't give her a hard time. It was an unwritten arrangement that had worked well in the past.

  "Are you going to take this away from me now?" Asked Tina, in what appeared to be a child-like voice.

  "Yes, 'Polly' - it's getting near bedtime, and you really must have your bath!" Replied, Brenda, somewhat patronisingly.

  "Will I get to listen to it, after my bath?"

  "Only if 'Lucinda' doesn't appear. We want a nice quiet night, don't we?"

  Brenda had nursed several patients with MPD and found that life was easier if she just went along with it, and addressed each character as a separate person. She hadn't fully formed an opinion if it was a true disorder of the mind, or if it was just another way patients could manipulate the system and get attention.

  "Will you be watching me in the bath?" Asked the child-like, 'Polly'.

  "Yes, of course, you're only a little girl, and we don't want you to drown, do we?"

  "But I think Tina will be back soon. She's the one who wanted the bath, not me. I just want to play."

  Brenda watched bemused as Tina's different personalities came and went, until finally, Tina herself arrived back on the scene.

  "Welcome back to the land of the living! 'Angela' was just about to go for a bath." Said Brenda, wearily.

  One particular bathroom had been set aside for Tina's exclusive use. It was in an area scarcely used by anyone else, but more importantly, the smoke detector was faulty, which meant a crafty cigarette for Brenda.

  "How are you feeling at the moment, Tina?"

  "Fine, really - I'm just looking forward to a nice hot soak."

  "Well, you go ahead. I'm not sitting in there with all that damp and steam."

  "I'll be okay, Brenda."

  "Leave the door open slightly, and I'll sit out here in the corridor." Yawned Brenda, pulling out her packet of cigarettes.

  'Lucinda' forced a smile, before switching on the light, and going over to run the water. However, after putting in the plug, it was only
the hot tap that she actually turned on, thinking this would give her extra time, and would create more steam to disguise what she planned to do. She would still need to be very quick, as the bath would only take about four minutes to fill up, and Brenda would undoubtedly become suspicious if it took longer.

  Reaching into her pocket, 'Lucinda' produced the tape that Jonathan had left in the cassette recorder. Then, as the steam filled the bathroom, and the sound of running water drowned out the noise, she pulled length after length of tape from the plastic casing. When she felt she had sufficient, she doubled it over as many times as she could to form a noose strong enough to hold her weight.

  Attached to the wall, just above the bath were several old brackets, spaced at about three-foot intervals. They were once used to support old heating pipes that had since been removed. With measured movements, Lucinda/Tina climbed up onto the edge of the bath, and stretched up to loop the strands over one of the brackets. She felt an excruciating pain in her abdomen, and knew she had pulled the wound open. Gasping from the pain, she began to entwine the rest of the tape around her neck. The sound of a chair scraping the ground from out in the corridor alarmed her, and she expected to be caught at any moment.

  "Is everything alright in there, Tina?" Called out Brenda.

  "Yes, yes, I'm fine." Came the reply.

  As Tina's alter ego, Lucinda, stared down at the half-full bath, she realised there wasn't anything else to do, just let go. This was what she had wanted for so long now, it had gradually crept up and overtaken her life, making everything else pale into insignificance. Her father, Frank would never be able to hurt her again. Freedom beckoned, and she felt ready to reach out and grab it, while she had the opportunity.

  The bundles of tape were tight around Tina's neck, and she felt blood running down to her feet, making them slip on the edge of the bath. There was nothing except the crudely-tiled wall to stabilise her. She tried to grasp it with the flat palms of her hands, but still she felt herself slipping. Thoughts of Jonathan began to flick through her mind. She wanted him, she loved him. He had been the only beautiful thing to have happened in her life. Tina wanted it all to stop now, she wanted to get down, she wanted to scream out for Brenda to help her.

  As she fell from the edge of the bath, she felt the makeshift noose suddenly tighten. It bit into her skin as she slid into the scorching hot water. Some of the strands of the tape snapped, and for a split second she thought they would all snap and she would end up plunging down below. She turned her body awkwardly, but her descent was halted by a sudden, violent jolt. It was violent enough to break Tina's neck. The strands had held firm.

  Tina finally came to rest with the bottom half of her body submerged in the scalding bath, while her top half sat upright, like some grotesque marionette with its head dangling on a string.

  Brenda had heard a dull thud, over the sound of the roaring water, and simply assumed it to be Tina climbing into the bath. She sat back in the chair she had found in the corridor and returned to her magazine. As she lit up her second cigarette, Brenda became concerned about the amount of steam coming out from the behind the door.

  "Is everything alright in there, Tina?"

  Nothing.

  "Tina, answer me!" Screamed Brenda, flinging open the door. Crimson water poured over the side of the bath, and as Brenda recoiled at the sight of Tina's agonised face, she slipped and fell heavily, hitting her head on the hard, tiled floor.

  Brenda was found by the next nurse who came to relieve her. She recovered, but never returned to work again. For Tina, it was too late. She died on her forgotten, twentieth birthday, a far cry from the tiny, premature baby that had refused to give up hope, and had clung on so desperately to its fragile, wretched life. Lucinda had succeeded.

  THE BLACK ANGEL

  I drank from the cup of trust.

  It scalded me.

  I ate from the table of hope.

  It poisoned me.

  I yielded to the embodiment of love.

  It violated me.

  I embraced the Black Angel.

  It loved me.

  Rest in Peace

  Tina Frances Gant

  (15th August 1963 - 15th August 1983)

  COMPENDIUM OF THE LOVED

  BOOK THREE

  COMPENDIUM OF THE HEART TRILOGY

  25. LETTERS

  1983.

  David sat back in his chair and gazed out of the window. It was a pleasant, sunny day, hot but not unbearable. He marvelled at the rolling green hills in the distance and wished he was there, lost in thought, strolling across them. It was something he and William used to do when they were younger. They would just set off, wandering in no particular direction, but they would always find themselves way up in the hills, exploring as young boys do. It was a sight he never tired of, and as he paused, pen in hand, he came to realise how difficult it would be to leave Falcondale again.

  Returning to his letter, David was still not any wiser. Despite his new status of Dean Of Students, he still didn't quite know what to say. Usually, when he wrote letters, he found it easy to express himself, much easier than talking to someone in person, or on the telephone.

  He had written to Sally many times in the past, and would simply imagine she was there, listening to his words. He thought back to the night a few week's earlier when he'd had dinner with her and her two daughter's. He remembered her smile, her soft voice, and how much he missed her. There were lots of things he could tell Sally, if he had a mind to, but those words didn't come easy, in fact it seemed harder, the older he got.

  David had already sent her out an official university letter, offering her a place at Falcondale come next semester. Inside the envelope, he had put his own short note, thanking her for that wonderful night, and asking her to write back as soon as she could. For two weeks he anxiously went through his mail, searching for an envelope bearing her handwriting. But nothing was forthcoming, and it hurt him.

  David had thought about telephoning Sally with the news of her place, but when he'd picked up the receiver, something stopped him, like it had in the past. He hated the phone, and would be the first to admit it, but this was different. A strong bond had always existed between them, but now, he believed it had gone that much deeper. He felt Sally realised it too, but it wasn't something quantifiable, or anything that could be easily discussed on the telephone. It was something that could only be nurtured through empathy and deep, close human contact. He knew they belonged together, but their dogged reticence, and feelings of guilt made it that much harder to take their relationship to the next level.

  He picked up the half-written letter, tore it up and threw it into the waste paper bin. David then wrote another letter, only this time the words came straight into his head. He put the letter into an envelope and placed it into his jacket pocket, before glancing down to his watch, and heading back home for lunch.

  Carol was expecting him, and seeing her warm, cheery smile soon lifted his spirits.

  "How are you, this fine day, Carol?"

  "You'll not find me complaining, Mr. Peddlescoombe." Replied David's part-time housekeeper.

  "Good. Now listen Carol, I want to speak to you about something."

  "There's not a problem is there, Mr. Peddlescoombe?" She asked, looking concerned.

  "Lord no, nothing like that," replied David, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

  "I've made you a mushroom omelette with some salad. I know you don't like anything too stodgy for lunch."

  "Sounds wonderful, just what I need!"

  As she put the plate down in front of him, she stood back a few paces and began fiddling with her thumbs, awaiting what her employer was going to say.

  "I'm leaving Carol. It was the wrong decision to have ever taken this job in the first place."

  "But, Mr. Peddlescoombe, you've only been here the flick of a lamb's tail."

  "I know, it's my wandering heart. I just can't stay put in any one place for very long."

 
; "I'll make us a nice cup of tea." Replied Carol, with a hint of sadness in her voice.

  "I've already written out my resignation."

  "I see."

  "It wont affect you, Carol. I'll rent out the house, and you can still keep your job."

  "Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, Mr. Peddlescoombe, but I think you'll be making a big mistake."

  "Speak as you find, Carol. You know I value your forthrightness."

  She brought two cups of strong-looking tea over to the table, and sat down opposite David.

  "This is your home. It's where you belong. We all need somewhere to go back to."

  "I realise that, but there's nothing here for me anymore."

  "I think you're suffering from the Falcondale lull."

  "Whatever is that?"

  "When the students go for the summer, it makes Falcondale a very lonely place. It's something you don't really experience unless you live here."

  "Yes, it has become unbearably quiet, but that's not the reason."

  "You're not a young man anymore, Mr. Peddlescoombe, you can't just go gallivanting off. Besides, where would you go?"

  "I don't know. Abroad, somewhere sunny and warm - the south of France perhaps."

  "You haven't given this any consideration at all have you? You're a typical man, just acting on impulse!"

  David couldn't help laughing.

  "Carol, you seem to know me better than I know myself!"

  "Of course, I have a husband and sons of my own. There's not much I don't know about the male species!"

  "I came back here looking for something, I thought I'd be closer to William. I thought I could recreate the happier times again."

  "You can't wallow in the past, Mr. Peddlescoombe. You have to shape your own future and make your own happiness. Sometimes it's not easy."

  "But Carol, my spirit is dying here. There's nothing to hold me anymore."

  "There is, if you open your eyes. The grass isn't always greener on the other side. You have a lovely home, and your new job."