‘I don’t know Kate particularly well,’ he admitted, and suddenly his cheeks and neck felt exceptionally hot and he knew how foolish he must appear to them. Nevertheless, he explained, as calmly as he could, how and why he came to be there that afternoon. ‘But if there’s any problem at all then I’ll forget it,’ he said.
He then saw that his words were a little tactless; Kate had been listening to him, looking a little confused, but now she appeared upset and annoyed. However, her anger was directed at Hattie:
‘I’m not allowed any friends of my own!’ she said. ‘You brought me up here to this hospital where I don’t know anyone just because it’s convenient for you. And now I’ve got a friend you’re frightening him away.’
‘Kate,’ said the doctor, ‘Now it’s your turn to calm down. Hattie is just concerned, as we all are, that anyone who takes you off the ward is responsible and suitable.’
Scott wanted to ask ‘And I’m not?’ but he could see it from the doctor’s point of view. He had asked the nurse if he needed any aspects of Kate’s illness explained to him before they went out and she had said no. But the doctor obviously out-ranked the nurse. Kate seemed pretty much okay, but he did not know exactly how he would have to be ‘responsible’ for her. He didn’t even know what was wrong with her!
‘There are things I have to tell Scott,’ said Kate determinedly.
‘Perhaps,’ suggested the doctor, ‘you could tell him those things here, on the ward?’
‘I’d rather he wasn’t here at all,’ said Hattie determinedly, and Scott had a presentiment of what she might be about to say. He had done nothing wrong and had nothing to hide, but she was about to make him out to be very a very unsuitable friend for Kate. He had come to know how her mind worked.
‘A few weeks ago,’ Hattie said slowly, confirming his fears, ‘Scott expressed some strong feelings for me, but I had to let him down. I’m sorry, but he’s not my type. It’s natural for me to be worried that he’s subsequently taken an interest in my sister.’
She hadn’t needed to say anything else. The words were calculated to imply so much.
‘Thanks Hattie,’ he said and stood up. ‘It was very silly of me to have said anything to you, to have felt anything for you, but I know you so much better now.’
To the doctor he said, ‘I won’t take up any more of your time,’ and then to Kate he simply said, quite formally, ‘I’m very sorry. It would’ve been nice to go out and maybe get a coffee, but it obviously isn’t appropriate.’
‘Don’t go,’ she pleaded, but neither Hattie nor the doctor tried to stop him.
Scott was furious with Hattie, but he was also annoyed at himself for getting into such a stupid position. He had been humiliated by the woman, but could not imagine what else he could have done. He also felt very guilty, although he didn’t know what for; he had never considered that he might have wanted to somehow take advantage of Kate. If anything, he felt that he had inadvertently been taken advantage of himself. He tried to think positively and be pleased that he was no longer under any obligations.
He tried to put it all out of his mind, and might have been able to think of it all as some horrible mistake if Hattie hadn’t told a mutual friend about the incident. She had carefully chosen the one person who would delight in spreading the story. When he saw Hattie a few weeks later at Terrance’s he asked to talk to her privately. It took unusual courage on his part but he knew what he had to do. He realised that she mustn’t be allowed to continue to have an advantage over him. He was red in the face before he had even closed the kitchen door behind them:
‘You told Colin that I’d been hitting on your sister,’ he accused her.
‘I wouldn’t have used that exact phrase, but the meaning is exactly what I was trying to convey.’
‘I did no such thing!’ he protested. ‘And you’ve no right to go around saying I did.’
‘I am simply stating the truth; you were trying to take advantage of a very vulnerable young woman.’
‘The only thing you’re stating is your own misunderstanding of events. All you’re showing is your ignorance.’
‘I disagree, you were going to…’
‘Shut up for once,’ he shouted, uncharacteristically. ‘You’ve never bothered to listen to the other side of the story, have you? And telling people I was on the rebound from you is a pretty low thing to do.’
‘Not at all,’ she said airily. ‘I was trying to explain your odd behaviour when other people seemed confused as to your motives.’
‘I don’t know why you’re so happy to think the worst of me?’
‘I’m trying not to despise you,’ she replied with a smile. ‘I’m trying to understand what your problem is.’
‘I don’t have one; you do. In fact, you have several, and the worst is probably that you don’t seem to care what your sister might want. Her opinion doesn’t seem to count with you…’
‘Don’t you dare tell me how I feel about my sister!’ she finally rounded on him. She had seemed amused before, but her anger now was very real. ‘You know nothing about us and what we’ve been through.’
‘I’m horrified at what a nasty, suspicious mind you’ve got.’
‘Kate’s well-being is my only concern.’
‘She told me you’d brought her up here, away from her friends, just for your convenience.’
‘Listen, you stupid little man. That may be how it looks to you from the outside, but she’s been very ill. Kate can’t get a proper perspective on it herself, although she’s a lot better than she was. We’re trying to get her to spend more and more time out of hospital because at some point they’re going to release her. If she’s up here I can spend time with her and eventually she can move in with me rather than going out to some awful hostel or Council bed-sit. If she was still down in Lincolnshire she wouldn’t get to go off the ward so often, and then, one day, they’d have simply thrown her out, without any support from anyone, to look after herself, unprepared.’
‘All I ever intended to do was walk up and down the High Street with her, perhaps have a cup of coffee somewhere, and return her the ward.’
‘So you say!’
He knew there was no point in arguing. He added lamely: ‘She said she had some things to say to me.’
‘As I said, she’s a lot better than she was, but she still has delusions. She’d have wanted to tell you about the voices in her head; to warn you to keep away from children in school uniforms because they’re mini-policemen. Can’t you see,’ Hattie asked, finally losing patience with Scott and almost shouting, ‘My sister’s a fucking loony!’
He was unable to answer, and was pleased afterwards that he had said nothing. Letting Hattie have the last word was for once the right thing to do. He left her in the kitchen, said goodbye to Terrance and refused to let him talk him into staying.
Scott walked out into an afternoon that was a strange lemon-yellow in the early evening sun. It wasn’t far back to his own house but he walked to the old Catholic Church first and from the steps looked down on the town. At the far side were the flat roofs of the hospital; the scene of his real humiliation. It was hard not to dwell on what had happened, and how Hattie had reported it to everybody. He felt singularly friendless and looked forward to the coming week so that he could lose himself in work.
Scott soon discovered that Terrance was a good ally, remaining in contact with him and refusing to agree with Hattie’s attempts to assassinate his character. It put a strain on their friendship, though, and Scott was aware that a number of their other friends found it difficult because Hattie and he refused to meet in the same company. He could tell that social occasions all through the summer and early autumn had required some tact, diplomacy and even subterfuge so as to keep them both apart.
It was Terrance who suggested that Hattie was putting in as much effort to shun Scott as he was to avoid her. He suggested that Scott should simply resume his old social life because she would do her best to keep aw
ay from him anyway, and it appeared to work.
Scott didn’t mention Kate to anyone, and her name was not brought up in Scott’s company, although Terrance later told him that he had heard news of her relapse. This saddened Scott, but he was trying to forget all about both sisters.
Six months passed and in many ways Scott’s life was back to normal. Hattie kept her distance, although she let it be known through mutual friends that she blamed Scott for Kate becoming ill again. However, those few that mentioned this said that it was one accusation too far, and nobody claimed to believe it.
And then, one evening in early December when he was leaving his office, there was Kate walking towards him on the pavement, on her own. He couldn’t avoid her, and he could see she recognised him.
‘Scott!’ she said. ‘You stopped visiting me.’
‘I was warned off by your sister.’
She raised her eyebrows and said: ‘You don’t want to listen to anything she says.’
‘I try not to…So, how are you?’
‘Much better. I’m meant to be coming out of hospital very soon.’
‘That’s great news.’
‘But not to stay with Hattie.’
‘Oh?’
‘She’s upset, but I want to be somewhere on my own. There’s a flat I can have, from the Council, not far from the hospital. There’re people who’ll come around and see me, to make sure everything’s okay.’
‘That sounds like a good arrangement.’
‘As long as I can persuade them I’m making progress.’
‘Surely it’s not a case of persuasion? They’d be able to see? Even I can tell you’re so much better than when I saw you last.’
‘Will you walk with me back to the ward? I’m allowed out on my own, but only if I promise to be no more than a half hour.’
He agreed and they wandered slowly in the direction of the hospital.
‘I don’t know how much Hattie told you,’ she said, trying to be matter of fact, but obviously rather embarrassed. ‘But when I’m ill I can get a bit confused and upset.’
‘Nobody’s ever said exactly what was wrong.’
‘Good,’ she said, and some moments later she added, ‘I want to choose who I tell, and what I tell them.’
They spoke little as he walked her to the hospital on the edge of the town. He reflected that they had not had time to build up any friendship, let alone any intimacy. What had happened between them seemed to make it unlikely they would ever do so. A part of him, he knew, wanted to prove Hattie wrong by being uninterested in Kate. He didn’t attempt to initiate any conversation, not that this appeared to bother Kate.
At the main doors she told him she would go the rest of the way on her own, and she said she hoped to see him again.
‘As you won’t visit me, I ought to come and visit you!’ she said with a smile.
‘I’d like that,’ he said automatically, but they parted without him telling her where he lived.
Scott did not see Kate again until after Christmas. He had almost forgotten about her. A promotion at work gave him extra duties and responsibilities, and moving to another office in the same building meant that he now had a desk alongside a woman called Emma. He had not really been aware of her before, but every evening after work for the first week they found themselves together in the King’s Arms for a drink. They just talked at the time, enjoying each other’s company. It was Emma who suggested that if they continued in their new routine then they would soon become alcoholics, and he invited her back to his house for a meal. In reality it was she who made all the first moves, although she carefully didn’t let him realise how she had orchestrated the start of their relationship.
They had been going out together properly for two weeks when Kate appeared in the street one evening when they were both leaving the office together.
‘Hi Scott!’ she said. ‘Guess what? I’ve just moved into my new flat.’
‘Kate, that’s great news. Congratulations.’
‘It’s a bit of a dump,’ she admitted. ‘But it’s my own. I can shut the door and choose who I see and who I don’t.’
He introduced Emma, and Kate said hello very politely. It was clear though that she would rather Scott had been on his own. She offered him a scrap of paper.
‘This is my new address. Come and see me in the mornings, or evenings,’ she said. ‘I’d like to talk to you.’
‘Okay, I’ll do that,’ he agreed.
‘Who’s she?’ asked Emma. ‘An old girlfriend?’
‘No, she’s Hattie’s unfortunate sister. I told you about her.’
‘Oh yes, Hattie thought you had designs on her.’
‘That’s her.’
‘Are you going to go and see her?’
‘I don’t know. I feel a little awkward after what happened.’
‘She said she had something to tell you.’
‘I know, but it all still feels a little strange.’
‘You’re still afraid of Hattie, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am!’
It was Emma’s suggestion that Scott take a pot plant as a flat-warming gift when he visited Kate a couple of days later. He felt rather conspicuous carrying it through town, but it was dark, cold and snowing and he didn’t see anybody he recognised. He found his way to the block of flats on the estate by the railway station and felt even more self-conscious carrying the gift past a group of youths standing at the foot of the stairwell; they peered out at him from their hooded tops and in the sodium glare of the streetlamp he couldn’t see their expressions. He climbed up to the second floor and found Kate’s flat to be the very first on that walkway.
‘You’ve brought me a plant,’ she said, frowning, when she opened the door.
‘It’s to help brighten up your new home.’
‘Oh, okay, come in,’ she agreed, and watched with amusement as he stamped on her mat to remove the snow from his shoes. She asked: ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I don’t have anything else at the moment.’
‘Tea would be great,’ Scott said and followed her through to the tiny kitchen off the living room. He put the plant down in the middle of the small table where he decided it looked a little gaudy; the leaves were so shiny that they could well have been plastic and the flower itself, whatever it might be, was a little too bright. Already the snow on it was melting.
He took his coat off and looked around him. The flat was very minimally furnished with the kinds of items he had sometimes seen in the local Salvation Army charity shop. The magnolia walls were bare and the floor covering was utilitarian, but there were a few personal touches; a wind chime of colourful metal tubes at the window and three battered stuffed toys looking down from a shelf. There were a couple of wine bottles with candles stuck in them, and a small sewing basket was open on the worktop. Kate appeared to have been embroidering a lampshade, probably to conceal the bare bulb hanging down from the ceiling.
Not knowing how else to start the conversation he asked how she was feeling.
‘Does everyone get asked that, or am I paranoid?’ She was filling the kettle. ‘The community psychiatric nurse was here earlier and she asked me that exact question. A couple of days ago I saw my doctor and he always asks the same thing…My sister does it…’
‘Well, it’s a polite thing to say to anyone; ill or not.’
‘If you say so. But anyway, I’m not too bad at the moment, thank you.’
‘They must be convinced you’re fairly well or they wouldn’t have let you out of hospital?’
‘Perhaps I’ve just got better at playing the game.’
‘How do you mean?’
She switched on the kettle and turned to Scott, giving him her full attention.
‘The exact question my doctors always asks is “How are your thoughts?” I assume that when I’m really unwell I tell them and so they keep me in hospital and give me more pills. When I’m feeling better, though, I realise that keeping quiet, or saying what they want to hear, does
me more good. So if they ask me if I’m hearing voices or believe I can walk through walls, or whether the government are out to get me, then I say no.’
‘You mean, you still believe those things, but you know they’re unreasonable?’
She gave a wry smile: ‘When I’m more in control I know that other people will think certain beliefs are unreasonable so I shut up about them. It’s like being followed; I’ve realised it’s not worth mentioning.’
‘And when you’re completely well do you think those things?’
Turning away to drop teabags into the empty pot, she then looked at the blank, black window and said ‘I don’t know if I’ve ever been, or ever will be, completely well. When I’m more in control I just know what to say to the doctors.’
‘I understand.’
‘Do you?’
Kate tidied up the work surface while the water boiled and Scott tried not to watch her. He felt uncomfortable and wondered how soon he could leave without appearing rude. Kate appeared to enjoy bustling about her kitchen and they fell naturally into small-talk. He asked her where she did her shopping, and she talked proudly about some meals she had cooked for herself. She was pleased when he admitted she was more inventive than he was. She enthused about a herbal supplies shop she had discovered and talked about some long walks she had taken out through the park and into the countryside. She was obviously relishing her freedom.
When the tea was ready she turned on the radio and sat down opposite him at the table. She looked serious and said quietly:
‘I wanted to talk to you because I think you might understand what I have to say.’
‘I can’t promise to, but I will listen.’
She stared intently into his eyes and he had to look down at his mug.
‘I turned the radio on because, well…I’m worried about telling you this…I’m told my beliefs are a symptom of my illness…but I’m sure they’re trying to listen to us.’
‘Who?’
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