by CS Savage
'It doesn't quite work like that, Mr Hussein,' Clancy started to say, but she could tell he wasn't listening; he was looking at her as if she had just told him he had won the lottery.
'So, you think I have a disorder because I won't do what you tell me to, and I won't do what you want me to as there is nothing wrong with me.' His words increased in both volume and intensity.
Clancy felt her cheeks redden. This wasn't going at all to plan. She rolled her chair back a little to give him space, tried to adopt a sympathetic pose. 'Frustrating, I know. But the good thing is, I wouldn't ask you to take medication for this. So at least we can agree on that.'
'Great. Well, that's a result. So, do I have to keep coming?'
'I want to keep seeing you for at least a year after stopping medication, Mr Hussein. Just to make sure no paranoid thoughts come back. But if things stay as they are, I should be able to discharge you next February.'
'I don't have paranoid thoughts.' His smile dropped. He was silent for a moment, then spoke up. 'Do I have any choice?'
'Well, yes, but to be honest, if you stop seeing us, it’s likely we'll end up having to come and see you at home. If you do as I ask, it will make things easier all round.'
'I'll think about it,' he replied. 'Now, if you're finished, I'm out of here. Any objections?'
Clancy shook her head, then turned to Hamish. 'You'll keep an eye on him?' He gave a quick nod. She hated these professional contacts at work, being unable to say anything personal to him, in case someone overheard. She sat back and watched as Hussein stalked to the door, followed him with her eyes, staring at the woodwork long after the door had clicked shut. She mentally counted the months until next February. She knew it would seem long, but at least there was an end in sight. She shuddered slightly and went back to her emails.
When she had finished her clinic later that afternoon, and as she was typing up her notes, her mobile buzzed. She picked up the phone, looked at the screen. Unknown number. She pressed the green button and raised the phone to her ears.
'Dr Mclean? This is PC James from the Sapphire Unit at Sutton Police station. I understand you and your daughter have reported a crime. She believes she is being stalked?'
Clancy responded affirmatively.
'I'm just ringing you with an appointment to come in and give a statement. Could you bring your daughter in at four tomorrow?'
Clancy sighed, flicked through her diary to see what she was supposed to be doing, saw she had a meeting – it wouldn't be the end of the world if she cancelled. But then again, she didn't want Dan breathing down her neck again. 'Is there any chance we could make it five?' she replied.
'Sure. See you tomorrow. You know where to come, I take it?'
'Yes, we'll be there.' Clancy leant back in her chair and shut her eyes. God, I’m so tired. She wondered when she could stop moving from crisis to crisis, could relax and rest. She needed a holiday, that was for sure. She’d speak to Ro about it, later…Tenerife perhaps. She just wanted to go somewhere to lie in the sun and read. She packed her phone and laptop into her rucksack and prepared to leave.
On the way home, she stopped at the Co-op, bought some pizza and milk, threw in some ice cream as a treat. She really hoped Ro wasn't going to get too upset about the interview tomorrow. She bit her lip lightly, rubbing her tongue over the softness of it, tried to swallow the lump that rose in her throat. She should have known, been there for her. At least I know now. She checked her watch and hurried back to the house.
When she got home, she went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. As she got out the mugs, Rowan appeared in the door frame and plonked herself at the kitchen table. She looked tired, bags under her eyes, her skin blemished. Clancy hated to add to her woes, but thought she may as well break the news.
'The police rang. They want us to go in tomorrow for you to give a statement…' Her voice was uncertain.
'Yeah, fine. I hope they bloody arrest him, wanker.'
'Rowan, watch your language,' Clancy said, but there was humour in her voice. Ro seemed to have taken it well.
58
Beth
She let herself in through the air lock. It was mid-morning. As the door clicked shut behind her, she was struck by the relative quiet on the ward. She tilted her head to the side, listened for any shouting or sounds of emotion. Nothing. Everyone seemed relaxed, watching morning TV or reading papers. The smell of warming canteen food hung in the air, she almost felt comforted by it. She noticed a few familiar faces as she looked around the room, but there were a lot of new people. Amazing how quickly things changed – she'd only been away a few weeks.
As Beth entered Carol’s office, she was pleased to see her smile broadly. Carol’s office looked as chaotic as ever. Grubby computers tussled for space with various ring-binders and sheets of paper – the hospital's attempt to go paperless was only partially successful.
An hour later, she let herself out of the ward. The meeting with Carol had gone well. She had believed the stomach upset and low over boyfriend break-up tale and had given Beth her shifts for the following week. Early Wednesday, long days Thursday and Friday. It had been easy. At last, life was getting back to normal. As she walked off the ward, she felt her phone buzz in her bag. She rummaged through it, pressed the green button before it rang off, shoved the phone to her ear. A grin spread across her face.
'It's good to hear you too. And don't be daft. You've got nothing to apologise for. I'm sorry I was so difficult.' She carried on chatting, filled Suze in on what she was up to.
Suze sounded shocked. 'You ran in the dark? Is that wise? I mean, I know you were a bit paranoid before, but that's no reason to take risks.'
'Suze, it was eight o'clock in the evening, street lights were on, people were about. I told you, I'm not worried anymore. I have to admit, the Olanzapine helps. I just had a meeting with Carol, I'm going back to work on Wednesday.'
'Great. Look, I’ve gotta go…see you soon?'
Beth smiled to herself as they arranged to meet the following Sunday and said their goodbyes. She would have to buy Suze a gift to thank her for all her support. Her mind started running through potential items she might like. At last she was getting back on track.
59
Rowan
'You're going to buy another new dress?' Amy asked.
Rowan felt her cheeks flush a little. 'Yeah…I've got some birthday money left over. ' She saw Amy raise her eyebrows, but she said nothing. Rowan quickly changed the subject, moved on to talk about her appointment at the station that afternoon.
'Really? That's great,' Amy said. 'A long time overdue. I hope he gets his comeuppance.'
'Me, too,' Rowan had agreed, but she was actually amazed how little she cared about Vic now, as long as he stayed away from her. As her thoughts strayed again to Fariq, she felt her body tingle. She couldn't wait for the weekend.
By three pm, she really had had enough of facials. She and Amy got the bus home and then went their separate ways. Amy shouted 'good luck,' before disappearing down the street. As Rowan walked down the high street past the chip shop, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, pulled it out and opened a message from her mum.
Really sorry love, something’s come up.
Can you make your own way and I'll meet you there at 5?
Won't be late promise love you xxx
Bloody great. Her mum never let anyone else down, but she didn't give a toss about doing it to her. For a second, she felt the tears prick her eyes, thought of ringing Amy and asking her to go with her. But she told herself she was being daft, she was an adult, and bit back the tears. She threw her pack over her shoulder and marched down the street to home. She still had an hour before she needed to leave.
At ten to five, she got off the bus in Sutton, her stomach churning. She'd never been into a police station before. She walked across the top of Sutton High Street and past the taxi office to the station. She could see the blue police lamps ahead of her. Amazingly, she could see
someone with a mass of reddish greying curls waiting on the steps, staring intently into her phone. Her mum had got there. She didn't like to admit to herself how relieved she was to see her.
'So sorry, love, you know what it's like at work. I couldn't get away.'
Rowan pulled back, didn't respond. She guessed her mum would have got away on time for someone else, but she really couldn't be bothered to argue about it. They walked up the stone steps into a small reception area that smelt of damp coats. There was a queue for the reception desks, if they waited in line, they would be late for their appointment. Her mum’s face was pinched, she could see her looking irritably at her watch. By five past, they got to the reception, and her mum explained they had an appointment. The uniformed officer behind the desk looked at her sympathetically when she heard who the appointment was with, picked up her handset, dialled then indicated at them to take a seat.
The wait was boring. A door in the corner of the room opened, and Rowan finally heard her name being called. She rose hesitantly from her chair, aware of her mum following behind. The officer was female and dressed in plain clothes, a rather rumpled grey trouser suit that had probably looked much better when she had put it on earlier in the day. Her hair was dark and cut straight, her smile a broad slash of red. When Rowan reached her, she put out her hand. Her grip was firm and cool.
'Hi, DS Redwing. Thanks so much for coming in to meet with me.' She smiled at her mum. 'And you must be Dr Mclean. Nice to meet you.' The hand was proffered and duly shaken.
'Please follow me.' DS Redwing turned and walked smartly down a dreary undecorated corridor, her heels clacking on the tiled floor. She led them down the windowless corridor, past various open doors. Rowan could see metal office desks with monitors and keyboards, filing cabinets, and officers – mainly in uniform – typing avidly. After about a hundred metres, she entered a room with grey carpet tiles – low comfortable chairs with wooden arms were set around the perimeter of the room. One wall was mainly floor-to-ceiling windows. Rowan could see through grubby venetian blinds to a car park in the courtyard outside that was mainly filled with police cars. In one corner of the room lay a kitchenette, a steel sink and drainer – remarkably devoid of mugs or crockery.
DS Redwing waved her hand towards the chairs, turned to her mum. 'Please take a seat. You can wait here. I'm not sure how long we will be, but hopefully no longer than an hour. Someone will let you know if we're going to be longer.'
Rowan felt herself stiffen. Somehow, she had thought that her mum could be with her through her interview. She rubbed the sweat off her palms against her jeans, tried to stand straight and look confident.
Her mum gave her a quick hug as she left. 'It'll be fine. I'll wait for you here.'
Rowan followed DS Redwing from the room. They returned to the corridor, but just a couple of doors down, DS Redwing turned left and led her into a much smaller room. It, too, was set with low comfortable chairs – four of them around a low table. One of the chairs was filled by a man in a grey flannel trousers and a shirt that was lacking a neck tie. He stood up as soon as she walked in, held out his hand and introduced himself as DS Norman. He motioned towards the chair opposite him.
An hour later, she had told them everything. She was exhausted, felt like she could just curl up in a ball and sleep. The detectives looked at her, their faces serious.
'I'll just go and get your mum, before we talk about where to go from here,' DS Redwing got up and walked from the room, her heels clicking. Moments later, the clicking returned, closely followed by her mum who shuffled behind, her hands twisting together. She immediately caught Rowan's eye and looked relieved when Rowan smiled at her. DS Redwing motioned to the chair next to Rowan's, and her mum sat heavily, evidently finding the chair as low as she had.
DS Norman cleared his throat and started to speak. 'Rowan has told us what has been happening. She did really well. This man appears to be stalking her. The next step will be for us to arrest him, bring him in for questioning. Unfortunately, I'm not sure we have enough evidence here to charge him, although given that the one assault was witnessed by your friend it is possible. Facebook never cooperate with us, so now that picture has been taken down, we are devoid of evidence.'
Rowan felt her mum stiffen beside her, almost jump from her chair.
'Not charge him?' her mum almost shouted. 'Why on earth not? What does he have to do to get charged?'
'I know it's frustrating, but the CPS will want to be sure of a conviction before they proceed. Let's take one step at a time, get him in…see what he says. I can assure you, we'll do everything we can. Now, I want you to call this number if anything else happens at all.' He passed Rowan a card with a mobile number on it. 'And if it’s urgent, don't hesitate to call 999. We have given your name and address to the control room, if anything comes in they know to prioritise you.' He smiled at them, clearly trying to be reassuring. 'If you want, Victim Support can help you with getting a non-molestation order – but let's see how it goes, eh? Now, I want you both to relax. We'll let you know before we bring him in, it won't be for a few days as I'm on nights.'
Rowan felt her mum stiffen again, gave her a glare. Don’t say anything, Mum. She wanted to get out of here, not sit and argue. She thought of Vic's face, and his mum’s, when the police turned up at his house to arrest him. She gave herself a small smile. Served him right, she couldn't wait.
60
Beth
She turned the Yale lock in the door and pushed it open, threw her bag on the floor and raced up the stairs to change into her running things. She wanted to get a quick run in before she went around to see Clancy and Ro. It was dusk, the street lights just flickering into life, spraying shadows over the streets. As she sat on her doorstep tying her laces, she thought how good it would be to see Ro. Ro had reassured her she wasn't angry, but her stomach still churned as she thought of seeing her again.
Telling herself she was being stupid, she stood up, stretched her arms and back and then ran through her gate, turning left down the hill towards the Benhill estate. She fell into a rhythm, adjusting her earphones as she paced, turned up her iPhone and lost herself in her breathing, her mind concentrated on her steps, her motion. The streets were quiet, for once few pedestrians hindered her path. But just as she was passing Benhill Avenue, a figure stepped out in front of her; a man, dressed in a long black coat, a cap pulled low. She nearly shouted out with shock as she pulled up, her rhythm lost.
The man stood for a second, stared at her. She felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck – he looked familiar. For a second, she thought he was going to speak to her, but instead, he took a step backwards. Seeing the pavement clear in front of her, she put her head down and accelerated past. Her breaths were shallow and came quick, but gradually, she calmed her thoughts, fell back into the rhythm. She wasn't going to let herself get caught up stressing like that again. She mentally rehearsed going to her kitchen cupboard the previous night, popping out and swallowing the Olanzapine. She was fine, no way was she going to get ill again.
Her circuit took her through the town centre, down St Nicholas way, along Crown Road and up past the bus station. She saw nothing else that concerned her, felt her breathing and her muscles relax. As she turned into the top of Lind Road, she reflected how much fitter she had got in recent days, how much easier running seemed. She headed home for a quick shower before getting ready to head to Rowan and Clancy’s. She wanted to stop at the off-licence on the way, buy some wine. She knew how much Clancy liked a glass. It should be a fun evening.
She stood an hour later, staring at the shelves full of wine. She had no idea there were so many different brands. How on earth did anybody choose? She knew that some people got really into the different tastes. Somehow, she didn't think Clancy would be that fussy. She remembered the bottles were always dark, must be red. She stared for a little longer before picking up a bottle with “Chianti” written on it and walked to the counter. She was just getting her purse
out of her rucksack to pay when she saw a shadow through the shop window. Again, she thought she saw a figure, dressed in dark clothes, cap pulled low obscuring his face, standing at the window. She felt flustered in front of the shop assistant, her face flushed as she struggled to put her change in her purse. She took another quick look out of the window, saw nothing – focussed harder. This is just all in my mind. She wasn't going to let her paranoia get to her again. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, put the bottle in her rucksack, smiled at the assistant and marched from the shop without looking behind her.
Ten minutes later, she was ringing Clancy's door bell, she could see lights shining through the stained glass, could hear footsteps down the hall. The door swung open, and Clancy was standing before her smiling broadly, Rowan stood a few steps behind. Beth scanned her face, but could pick up no signs of tension.
Clancy stepped forward, pulled her towards her. 'So nice to see you...and you look great. Come in, come in.’ She led Beth into the kitchen. The smell of pizza drifted up her nostrils.
Beth held out the wine. 'Hope it’s ok. I'm not much of a wine drinker.' But she had had no need to worry, Clancy took the bottle and immediately pulled open a kitchen drawer and started fumbling, presumably for a bottle opener.
After Clancy filled a large glass, she offered it to Beth.
'No, thanks, water for me.'
Beth and Rowan sat down at the table while Clancy finished slicing up the pizzas.
'So, how's work going?' Clancy asked. Beth told her how things were good, she was back full-time now, really enjoying it again.
Clancy was leaning back in her chair, seemed relaxed as she sipped her wine. 'Any more problems when you're out and about? Any voices, anyone following you?'