‘Quite the contrary, Adam. Dr Cassells was saying the opposite, in effect. He was saying that Carla Tandy felt she was making good progress with Michael because of the heavy sedation. Dr Cassells’ specialist therapy is designed to work with people who are on high doses of medication. He was saying that he admired me for stepping beyond what he called the arbitrary constraints laid down by the pharmaceutical regulators and putting the patient first.’
‘He isn’t worried about Michael not sleeping or the fact that the voices are getting worse?’ asked Adam.
‘He feels we have to keep with the plan.’
Adam looked at Peach, who looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘And what do you think, Walter?’
Peach smiled, a genuine smile, and reddened slightly. ‘I think I am over-prescribing and I suspect Dr Cassells is being a tad manipulative. However, I am not sure to what end, and I am not sure what to do about it.’
Peach looked older than Adam remembered, more human. Uncertainty does that, thought Adam. ‘I think you are right, Walter, about Cassells. And about Michael, for that matter.’
Peach nodded. ‘What drug has Michael been on the longest?’ he asked.
‘Chlorpromazine. Lots of it.’
‘How about we start reducing that, easing him off it? Then review where we go from there on Wednesday.’
‘We can start with his morning dose, it’s not doing much as far as I or Michael can tell,’ Adam said.
‘I do wonder if I am getting too old for this.’
‘I think this makes us all feel old, Walter. Not sure that it’s the same thing.’
Peach opened up a drawer in his desk and took out two photographs. He handed them to Adam. ‘That,’ he said, pointing to Adam’s left hand, ‘is Graham’s little boy. The two in the other picture are my grandchildren. I often wonder what it would be like telling them that their father had killed himself while under my care.’
‘Our care, Walter.’
The two men, separated by a large oak desk and around thirty years, sat in silence.
Finally Adam spoke. ‘I don’t imagine it’s any consolation, Walter, but for what it’s worth, I feel too old for this too. And—between us?—I wouldn’t trust Cassells as far as I could throw him.’
When Adam got back to the ward Maureen Marley was standing outside smoking a roll-up and staring at the floor.
‘Hello,’ said Adam. Maureen nodded. ‘Are you waiting for someone?’ Maureen shook her head. ‘So.’ Adam took a cigarette from his jacket pocket. ‘Let’s take a moment, if you don’t mind?’ He held up the cigarette to indicate he was going to stop for a smoke with her. Maureen shook her head to indicate she didn’t mind at all. ‘Tell me, what is happening about your accommodation?’ Maureen shrugged. ‘Was the house you went to see any good?’
Maureen laughed. ‘Didn’t like the smell.’
‘Air freshener?’ asked Adam.
‘Somt’ing like that.’ They both leaned on the walls, one on either side of the corridor, dragging on their cigarettes. Maureen looking at the smoke floating towards the arched, pitted ceiling, Adam looking at Maureen.
‘You know they can’t make you live somewhere you don’t want to live, right?’
‘Yeah, I know,’ laughed Maureen.
‘You are not on a section, Maureen, you can leave hospital when you want and you can refuse to go where you are put. They can try and persuade you, they can tell you there is nowhere else to go, but they can’t make you go anywhere.’ Maureen carried on looking at the smoke. ‘Or you can bide your time and wait until you are offered something you like, something nearer the bookies for example?’ Maureen smiled. ‘If you’re not sure and you want to check things out, you can ask me or Anna, you know?’ Maureen nodded, or at least Adam thought it looked like a nod, and that felt like the end of the conversation. He stubbed out his cigarette on the concrete window ledge a few feet further down the corridor, nodded to Maureen and went back on to the ward.
Grace was sitting in the office.
‘Mary is very low,’ she said without looking up when Adam came in. ‘Michael seems a wee bit calmer.’
‘We’re going to reduce his meds. Have you seen Tim, by the way?’
‘Good. And no, not today,’ said Grace.
‘Oh, and Cassells is messing with us, not sure why. Saying one thing to us, another to Peach, testing us or playing around or maybe just undermining everyone,’ he explained briefly.
All the time Grace busied herself by putting medical files in the right order in a large grey cabinet in the corner. ‘Someone has been in here and not put them back in the right place,’ she said.
‘So.’ Adam sat on the corner of the desk nearest the closed door. ‘What’s going on with you?’
‘Ahh,’ said Grace. ‘What indeed? Nothing important really, just your normal everyday ridiculousness. I appear to be like flypaper for ludicrous men.’
‘Norman? Well, we’ve known he is ridiculous since day one, Grace. He’s never going to leave his family and even if he did…’
Grace’s eyes were beginning to blur a little. ‘Ahh, but there you go, see Mr Clever Clogs…’ Only Grace, thought Adam, could get away with saying Mr Clever Clogs, albeit as a way of slowing down the onset of tears. ‘That’s where you are wrong, because he is leaving them. For me, it seems.’
‘Blimey, what has brought that on and why is it a sad thing? Don’t we want Norman any more?’
‘Oh Adam, it’s bloody ridiculous!’ She was crying now, softly, into her hands for fear of being seen. ‘You know that night Tim stayed? Well he stayed, you know, it was nice. Next morning Norman phoned, he said he had some time and was coming over. I said no. He guessed someone was there and got all outraged. I got all indignant. You sleep with someone else every bloody night, I said. Yes, but that’s my wife, he said, as if that was going to make me feel OK…’
‘And where was Tim in all of this?’
‘He was sitting on the bed, white as a sheet. I don’t think he is used to… things like that…’
‘Things like what, pet? Sex? Love triangles? The telephone?’
‘Well, sex mostly, but the idea of there being another man surprised him, the fact that he was married with kids shocked him and the fact that he is forty-seven bemused him.’
‘Poor Tim.’
‘Oh, don’t start with the poor Tim. After I got off the phone and I was a bit upset and told him what was going on, he got on his high horse and said to me “Well, I’m afraid I can’t take this on.” And flounced out like Joan bloody Collins.’
There was a tap on the office door. Anna and Libby were back. Adam opened the door and said: ‘Can it wait a moment please?’
‘Of course,’ Anna nodded. ‘I’ll make Libby a cup of tea and talk to you in a bit.’
Grace was wiping her nose with a hanky. ‘It’s fine, it’s fine. You shouldn’t ask me questions at work, you know that.’
‘OK,’ said Adam quietly. ‘I’ll buy you a drink later if you want, but I’m just curious about one thing: why are we crying? Norman wants you, Tim wants you…’
Grace laughed and a bubble came out of her nose. ‘If I wanted a marrying man I wouldn’t have been sleeping with a forty-seven year old with two kids in the first place, would I?’
Adam found Anna in the kitchen. Libby had gone. ‘So how did it go?’
‘It went well. She seemed to quite like the house. She even stroked the duvet. Not that she has any hands.’
‘Good.’ Adam smiled. ‘How long?’
‘About four weeks, I would think. I’ll take her along again next week, and again the weekend after that. There is some money, so she can begin to pick some bits and pieces out for her room. I think she’ll be fine. I think she’ll be better than fine.’
Adam nodded. ‘In other news: we are reducing Michael’s meds; we don’t know whe
re Tim is, and it has been confirmed that Cassells is either a manipulative bastard or he is conducting some kind of pointless psychological experiment on us all,’ he said.
Anna looked cross. ‘I think you’re overdoing it with Cassells. Maybe you just don’t like people who try to shake things up?’
Adam looked at her, nodded and said quietly: ‘I think you have the look of someone who wants to be cross.’ And he left the room.
Michael was sitting in the day room, pulling at his beard and muttering to himself. Mary hadn’t moved a muscle all morning. Libby was standing in the middle of the room staring at nothing on the wall and playing with the button hole on her still-clean, pink cardigan. Adam went into the office and phoned Tim’s extension. No answer. He went back to the day room and sat down near Mary. ‘Could you drink something, pet?’ he asked quietly. She lifted her head and stared at him with the emptiest of eyes. He gazed back softly for as long as he could, but he knew she couldn’t see him.
At the end of the shift Adam walked slowly up the drive. He used to go to the gym every day. Now he tended to go two or three times a week, more out of habit than anything else. He’d got through the day without taking any drugs from the medicine trolley and without having an argument with anyone. On the face of it a good day, not that he felt good. He felt agitated, unsettled. He couldn’t place why and he was excused from thinking about it by the sound of his name. He turned around and Anna was walking quickly up the drive behind him. He stopped and waited. She was breathing heavily. ‘You need to get more exercise,’ he said.
‘Never off duty eh?’ Anna said. ‘Actually, I’ve just run the length of the corridor.’
‘Why?’
She looked away, up the drive and out of the hospital. Getting her breath back, fixing her gaze on something outside the gates. ‘I wanted to say sorry.’ Adam shrugged. ‘Hormones,’ she deadpanned.
‘Bollocks,’ he replied in the same tone.
She laughed. ‘I’m not sure why I was defending Cassells.’
‘Me neither,’ said Adam. ‘He’s playing some silly game, asking Peach to do one thing, me to do another. Divisive, pointless and annoying.’
Anna thought for a moment. ‘Right, he’s trying to charm me and I’m not sure why. It’s not a sex thing, it’s something else.’
‘What does he want?’
‘Not sure. He’s being very attentive, lots of active listening. I find it a bit patronizing but I patronize right back.’ Adam looked at her. She kept looking up the drive and turning her head back to the hospital.
‘What’s up?’ he asked, looking at the gates.
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Look, are you doing anything later?’
‘When later?’
‘When I finish, about five-thirty?’
‘No.’
‘Would you mind if I popped over? Just briefly, I promise, I have to be somewhere at seven-thirty. I just wanted to run something past you.’
‘OK,’ said Adam. ‘I can cook you an omelette if you like?’
Anna looked at him and smiled. ‘That’s nice of you, thank you, but I don’t eat eggs. Baked potato with cheese and beans? See you around five-thirty.’ And she turned and went back to the hospital.
When Adam reached the gates of the hospital he saw a man standing behind the large concrete pillar staring at him. Adam caught his eye and the man looked away, embarrassed perhaps. When Adam looked back, after he had walked twenty yards down the road, the young man—medium height, expensive leather jacket, black hair—was staring down the drive toward the hospital. He looked like he was afraid to go past the gates for fear of catching madness. He looked like he came from a different sort of world completely.
8. Strange Fruit
When Anna emerged from the hospital, Black was waiting. She had seen him at lunchtime as she walked across the front of the hospital toward the canteen, and she had seen him when she had spoken to Adam. In fact, she had wanted to be seen talking to Adam. She hadn’t been able to eat her lunch. There was nothing about Black that had intimidated or even unnerved Anna but his presence, here, made her feel anxious now. She rationalized, swallowing down the rising bile of unease by reminding herself that he was nearer to being inadequate than psychotic. He was probably the sort of man—all bottled beer with bits of fruit on top and expensive moisturizer—who wasn’t used to being left, certainly not like that. Maybe he wanted a little bit of control back, needed a last word. Or worse, perhaps he had feelings, other, unpredicted feelings, feelings that were about someone other than himself. That would be embarrassing, having to facilitate something earnest or even tearful.
But these imaginings were keeping something bigger at bay. Something that was sitting deep in her stomach and threatening to burn her precious insides out if she did not douse it. What if he knew? What if he had some irrational inkling that she was at the very beginning of a pregnancy that he might have helped with? Not that he could, not that she did, not for absolute sure. She’d done the test and it had turned blue, but she hadn’t been to the doctor yet. He couldn’t know, it was not possible, but his presence, the fact that he was here, opened up the possibility that if he did know he might care and that was something that, frankly, Anna had not given very much attention to.
‘This is a bit out of the way for you isn’t it?’ She spoke as neutrally as she could, holding a steady gaze, barely stopping as she walked past, sure he would walk with her, which he did.
‘I was just passing.’
‘You’ve been there a long time for someone just passing.’
‘I wanted a word.’
‘It’s a bit creepy, to be honest: ex-lover hanging around outside the lunatic asylum I work in for a whole afternoon.’
‘Look, can I buy you a coffee? I just want a chat.’
‘I have somewhere to be, Black. What is it?’ She looked directly into his eyes with a deliberate coldness.
He looked away. ‘I haven’t come to try to convince you to carry on seeing me.’
‘So why have you come?’
‘I… I was hoping you might give me some advice.’ He looked embarrassed and Anna softened slightly.
‘My range of expertise is limited, Black.’
‘Yeah… I’ve been having these… thoughts. My mates say I’m paranoid but…’ He looked across the road, almost turning completely away from Anna. As he turned back, in profile, she could see that his eyes were damp: maybe the wind, probably not. ‘And a couple of days ago I heard this voice in my head… it told me to come and see you. I didn’t want to, not at first, no offence but you were pretty clear when you left that that was it and I’m not stupid, I know that story you told was about you. Mine wasn’t about me, by the way, but you know that, I guess. Anyway I didn’t want to… you know… but the voice kept saying…’
‘OK.’ Anna felt herself trying to shift from ex-lover to nurse. ‘Have you been smoking?’
‘Smoking?’
‘Cannabis, Black. Have you been smoking much dope?’
‘A bit.’
‘More than usual?’
‘About the same… maybe a bit more. I met this… this person and they like to smoke.’
‘Stop it.’
‘What? Why? It’s harmless…’
’OK, don’t stop it and I’ll see you in here.’ She pointed at the hospital behind her. ‘Or one very much like it, in about a week. Bye.’
‘No. Hang on, wait. You think it’s the dope?’
‘Yes, almost definitely. Your age, your symptoms. You’re lucky, you can do something to make it better. Most of my patients can’t. You need to not smoke any dope. None. You need to actually not be around it. Not inhale it, not even be in the same room as it, OK?’
‘OK. Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I am. Now listen, for old times’ sake you can phone me in a week or so. You can’t come here a
gain. You can’t come round. We are not having sex. You can check in and we’ll see how you are doing OK?’ Black nodded and for the first time since she had seen him Anna smiled, a soft, almost warm smile. ‘OK. Trust me on this Black, do not smoke any dope. No matter how cute she is, you really really really do not want to end up in here.’ She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb.
‘She isn’t actually all that cute.’
‘Good. Find yourself an aerobics instructor. I have to go now.’
Black leaned forward to kiss her and Anna turned her cheek. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She didn’t look behind her when she walked away but her body was stiff and her breathing more shallow than normal. She noticed herself gathering the fears of other people and packing them into the space between her hips and her breasts. Except it wasn’t the fears of other people so much as the fears about other people that crept under her skin and coloured her thinking, her judgment. She didn’t fill herself with what other people felt about the world: she worried instead about what they might do to her, if they were ever given the chance. So she was always careful to ensure that they didn’t get the chance.
‘Where’s my baked potato?’ Anna arrived just a little late and, even though she hadn’t been in Adam’s flat since the one night they had spent together, she was comfortable enough to walk in, put her bag down on the chair and slump on the sofa.
‘Takes too long to bake a potato. Especially when I don’t have any. Cheese and tomato sandwich. There may be yoghurt after, if you eat your crusts.’
Anna laughed. ‘I’ve had a rubbish day,’ she said. ‘Yoghurt can only help.’
‘Well, I was there for most of it,’ said Adam.
Adam brought her a small plate with a sandwich on it and put a glass of orange juice on the table in the middle of the room.
‘Thank you. It got worse after you left. Tim showed up in a foul mood, being very snappy with Grace. What’s going on there? I told him about Michael’s medication and he said that’s going to cost us. Next thing I know, I get a phone call from the social worker telling me that Maureen is moving to Wade Avenue, or the House of Pink as we like to call it, and that I need to set up another visit and work towards a discharge date. I told her that that move was on hold and we were working on a different placement and she told me that Peach had told her only today to push through the paperwork. I told Tim, he wasn’t surprised. He said that Cassells had been talking about Maureen… Did you know he’s been through her notes in real detail? He says she should go to Wade Avenue. Peach agreed. I’ve not told Maureen. I’m not finished with this yet.’
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