Poppy Shakespeare

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Poppy Shakespeare Page 14

by Clare Allan


  'I'm afraid that doesn't help us,' Mr Leech said.

  'But I told you,' said Poppy. 'There's nothing the matter! Why would I be on MAD money!'

  'I know,' Mr Leech said. 'You're perfectly right. It doesn't make sense, but there you are; that's just the way it works. You must be receiving MAD money in order to access the MAD Law Purse; that's how the system's funded. I'm afraid as things stand, I can't represent you, or not unless you can guarantee to meet the fees yourself, and - I don't believe in being less than direct - a case like this involves a great deal of work. Matters concerning mental health are notoriously hard to prove and tend to drag on indefinitely, though naturally . . .'

  'But I thought you said I'd got a really strong case!' said Poppy.

  'And you have,' he said. 'But it wouldn't be fair . . .'

  'So what about No Win, No Fee?' she said.

  But Mr Leech shaken his head. 'I'm sorry.' He was sat forward now. Arms crossed, with his elbows on the table. 'It's just the way we're funded,' he said.

  'The stress!' Poppy said. 'I could sue them for thousands. I don't even want it; you can have it,' she said.

  'It wouldn't be ethical,' he said. 'May I ask what your objection is to applying?'

  'Forget it!' said Poppy. 'There's no fucking way!'

  'I can help you,' I said. 'Get you Middle Low Middle . . At least,' I said. 'Maybe Low Middle Low . . .'

  'The rate doesn't matter,' said Mr Leech, but Poppy didn't say nothing.

  'I know it's crazy,' said Mr Leech. 'You have to declare yourself mentally ill in order to prove you're not mentally ill, but there you are; I don't make the laws, I just have to work within them.'

  'How much?' said Poppy.

  Mr Leech frowned.

  'How much would it cost?'

  'Several thousand, at least. It depends; the whole question of burden of proof . . .'

  'I'll find it somehow,' Poppy said. 'I'll borrow it. I'll sue their butts . . . I'm sorry,' she said.

  'No problem.' Mr Leech smiled.

  'You're sure you can get me out,' she said.

  'You've a very strong case,' said Mr Leech and they shaken hands and he give her a card with his name on.

  'Come on, N!' said Poppy and she'd opened the door before I was even stood up. It pissed me off slightly, to tell you the truth, 'cause I couldn't see what the rush was, and Mr Leech smiled like neither could he, and he shaken my hand and I gone out after her.

  25. How none of Poppy's friends wouldn't borrow her the money

  Poppy didn't hang about; as soon as she got home from seeing Mr Leech, she picked up the phone and rung everyone she could think of. First she rung her friend Natalie, the one she'd told me about before, the one who done aromas or whatever.

  'Where have you been!' said Natalie. 'I've been leaving messages all week! Well, never mind that. Did you get a place on the course?'

  So then Poppy had to tell her what happened and how she'd wound up at the Dorothy Fish instead of doing Media Studies.

  'Shit!' said Natalie. 'Are you alright? You should of told me before!'

  'I wasn't sure what you'd think,' said Poppy.

  'Come on!' she said. 'This is me, Natalie, your friend, remember! Honestly, Poppy! I mean, I sometimes think I've a screw loose myself, well several actually. There but for the grace of God . . . It could happen to any of us. At least you're facing up to things. Most people just live their lives in denial. So what's it like? Are they helping you? Are they giving you stuff? Is it . . .'

  'Like what?' said Poppy. 'What sort of stuff?'

  'Well don't know,' said Natalie. 'Prozac or something; I don't know!'

  'THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!' said Poppy.

  'Oh,' said Natalie. 'Oh, OK. So what are you doing there then?'

  'And what did you say?' I said to Poppy. She was telling me over fatty lamb stew in the canteen Monday lunch-time. And Poppy said how she'd gone through what happened again. All the stuff at the dole office, how they'd told her she was mentally ill and she had to have treatment compulsive, and if she didn't she'd go on the ward and if she gone on the ward then what would happen to Saffra? 'And when I'd finished,' Poppy said, 'there was like this huge pause on the phone. "I was wondering about Saffra," she said. "Wondering what?" I said. "Well maybe she could stay with me," she said. "Give you a bit of a break; it's not a problem." "I'm fine," I said. "Don't take this the wrong way," she said, "but you've got to think of Saffra."

  "And what's that s'posed to mean?" I said. "Well you have seemed pretty stressed," she goes. "To be honest, Poppy, ever since Dud left. Looking back, I guess I could see this coming." "You could?" I said. "Well it's hardly surpris­ing," she said. "You've been under a lot of stress, Poppy. Single mum and losing your job and remember how upset you got, you know when you left your bag on the bus. . .""I was stressed," I said. "I lost my keys. I had to get all the locks changed. I'm skint!" "Still," she said. "Natalie," I said, "I'm not being rude but I've had a long day." "You don't want to get overtired," she said. "And really," I said, "I just need a yes or no. Can you lend me the money or not?" I said. "I understand if you can't," I said, "but I just need to know." "I'm sorry,' she said. "You know I would but I can't; I just can't. It wouldn't be right," she said.

  "Who is this man anyway?" she said. "He's taking advantage of you, Poppy. You're vulnerable; he's just trying to make money. And even if he could get you out. To be honest, Poppy, you're barking up the wrong tree. You need the help; I'm just glad you're there. It's nothing to be ashamed of. . ." "Fuck off." I said.'

  I giggled just 'cause of the way she said it, but Poppy weren't laughing; she looked upset. As she talked she stabbed at her fatty lamb stew with her white plastic fork, kept bending. And she told me how she'd rung everyone, everyone she could think of. Her family, even American cousins, and all her friends, and all the people she'd been at school with and everyone she'd ever worked with and people she'd met on holiday; she'd gone through five address books. And listening to the list of people I felt a bit weird, do you know what I'm saying, just all the people she known. And I seen her having this massive party for all her friends and family and they'd easily fill up the whole canteen and most probably the Abaddon Tower as well, all the way to the top. And everyone laughing and talking about her and saying how great she was, and Americans too with American accents, and Poppy the centre of it all and here we was, do you know what I'm saying, sat having lunch together.

  But it didn't sound like Poppy be planning a party anytime soon. Not one person had offered to lend her even so much as a fiver. In the end, she said, she stopped telling them what she needed it for 'cause the moment she did, the moment she mentioned the Dorothy Fish, turned out everyone seen it coming. 'But I haven't seen you for nearly ten years,' she said to one. 'What you talking about!' And they said how she'd always been highly strung, even at school she'd seemed slightly unstable, like the time when she'd slapped that boy round the face, what was his name, on account of he'd pinched her arse. But even though Poppy stopped telling people, the word got around why she needed the money, 'cause everybody rung everyone else, and they all agreed that to lend her the money, that was the easy option. And the caring most responsible thing was to all say no and hold their ground, so that's what everyone done. 'I even spoke to Dud,' she said. 'Someone had rung him, I don't know who. If I find out I'll fucking kill them. Said his parents had offered to look after Saffra. They'd like to help. "With what?!" I said. "We don't need any fucking help." "She is their granddaughter," he said."Yeah," I said. "Yeah. So what are you saying?" His fucking parents, that's all I need.'

  I'd been looking down at our plates as she talked; I'd finished mine ages ago and she hadn't ate nothing. 'Are you going . . .' I said, but then I looked up and I seen there was tears in Poppy's eyes. In fact they was spilling out of her eyes. She kept pushing them back with the palms of her hands so as not to smudge her mascara. 'You alright?' I said.

  'I don't know what to do,' she said. 'I just don't know.'
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br />   'About the money?' I said.

  'I spoke to my dad as well,' she said. 'I mean I didn't tell him obviously. I just said I needed to borrow some money.'

  'And what did he say?' I said.

  Poppy shrugged. 'I'm sure he would if it wasn't for Pam. She wants a new kitchen, do you know what I'm saying. They only just got one three years ago. I said, "What, another!" . . . He said, "You know what she's like." I wish he'd just fucking stand up to her! And he asked what I needed it for, of course. I said to cover the mortgage while I'm doing my training. He said I thought you said you got this funding, and what about Dud? He's not stupid, my dad."Forget it," I said. "I'll manage."

  'So I'll just have to wait the month out,' she said. 'Three more weeks. I'll just have to do it. There's nothing else . . .'

  "Cept MAD money,' I said.

  But Poppy Shakespeare shaken her head. 'No way,' she said. 'There's no fucking way I'm applying.'

  That afternoon in my one-to-one I s'pose I said something I shouldn't of. We'd sat in silence a bit like usual, and Tony had asked how I was like usual, and I'd said alright, like usual as well, and he'd said what does that mean and I'd said alright. Tony frowned like not sure what to say, like you seen him thinking it through, 'So how are you getting along with Poppy?' he said.

  'Alright,' I said.

  'Can you be a bit more specific?' he said.

  'What do you want to know?' I said.

  'Whatever you want to tell me,' he said.

  I shrugged. 'We get on alright.'

  Tony didn't say nothing to that. He folded his arms and crossed his legs. The toe of his shoe drawn circles in the air like the second hand of some invisible clock.

  'Why have you changed the assessments?' I said. 'You only done me two weeks ago. What do you need to assessing me again for?'

  His toe stopped moving at twelve o'clock so his foot was bent up in the air. 'Are you worried about it, N?' he said.

  'No,' I said.

  'There's no need to worry,' he said.

  'I was only asking,' I said. 'I ain't worried. I ain't got no reason to worry, do you know what I'm saying. I don't care if they do kick me out; it don't make no difference to me . . . it's going to happen anyway, might as well be sooner as later.'

  'What's going to happen, N?' said Tony. His foot relaxed and gone down to stop at six-thirty.

  'Everyone I ever known,' I said. 'My mum, my nan. My dad,' I said, 'though I never met him, I still got his genetics.

  Mandy down Sunshine House,' I said. 'I found her, do you know what I'm saying. I fucking walked in and there she was . . .'

  'It must have been very distressing,' said Tony.

  I shrugged. 'Dunno,' I said.

  'I'm just saying,' I said.

  'I know,' said Tony. 'But what makes you think you're going to be discharged?'

  'I never said I was,' I said.

  'Good,' he said. 'Because let me assure you, your place is perfectly safe. No one is going to discharge you,' he said.'Not until you're ready, I guarantee it.'

  'You discharged Pollyanna,' I said.

  'Pollyanna was different,' he said. 'I can't discuss Pollyanna.' It was weird like a cloud come over the room, like suddenly it felt like about to rain. Tony seemed to feel it too; he crossed his legs the other way and folded his thin arms tight across his chest.

  'Sometimes,' he said, 'it's hard for clients to understand why we do things. But there always is a reason,' he said. 'I'm not saying we don't make mistakes of course; none of us is perfect. And obviously we're limited within the constraints of the system. It's not ideal, no one's saying that it is, but we always try to do what's best for our clients. The last thing we're going to do is discharge you. We're very concerned about you, N . . .'

  'You're going to send me up to the wards,' I said, 'cause that's how it sounded. But Tony said they weren't doing that neither, they was keeping me right where I was.

  'We'd hardly have made you a guide,' he said, 'if we were just about to get rid of you!' And when he put it like that, I seen what he meant and I couldn't help smiling a bit.

  Then he asked me again about the guiding and how I reckoned Poppy was fitting in, and I told him I thought she fit in alright and mostly people was nice to her. And I didn't say who it was that weren't, but I seen him smile and I knew how he knew who I meant. Then I told him about how the guiding gone, and how me and Poppy become good friends and I told him what she said as well, how she would of gone mad if it wasn't for me, which I hoped didn't sound like boasting, but that's what she said.

  I never told Tony how Poppy wanted to leave. Most probably I should of done, but I thought if I did, he'd think it was 'cause of my guiding. And seeing as how Poppy was pleased with my guiding, that would of been dishonest. So what I done was I actually told him how happy she was to be there. And I said a few other things as well; I can't remember exactly. How she had to make out how she wanted to leave, 'cause that was all part of her illness, but she'd been that worried about the assessments and how they was going to kick her out; she'd gone in the toilets at lunch-time and slashed her arms up. And I said some other stuff as well. Like I say I can't remember. And I felt a bit bad saying it, 'cause it weren't exactly the honest truth, but I reckoned it was lesser of two evils.

  26. How Brian the Butcher was late for his break and I knew before he'd told us what had happened

  Later that week or early the next one, I ain't sure exactly, Tina got discharged. This is how it happened.

  We was all sat in the common room, all except Dawn who was making her tables, Brian who was outside washing his hands, and Tina who'd gone for her one-to-one with Rhona the Moaner, made Marta the Coffin look like a laugh a minute. From what I remember the talk was about the groups they was starting up. Social Skills and Self Empowerment and Positive Thinking and Goal-Setting Group; everything 'cept Sit On Your Arse and Do Nothing; we wasn't impressed.

  'It's like being sent back to school,' said Sue, reading through her timetable. 'Look at my Wednesday: Life Skills all morning, then Relaxation all afternoon. I'll hardly have time for a cigarette. Look!' she said and she held out the paper for Verna to take a look at it.

  'What's this "Normality Group"?' said Middle-Class Michael.

  'Normality?' said Astrid. 'Where?' Middle-Class Michael pointed. ' "Normality Group",' Astrid read. 'What's that?'

  'I'll hardly have time for a cigarette,' said Sue.

  'I don't know,' said Michael. 'What it says on the tin, I suppose. I don't like the sound of it.'

  'Are you down for Social Group, N?' said Wesley.

  I give a tut. 'It's confidential,' I said. But I looked anyway and I seen I was and I glanced across and seen Poppy was too. The groups you was in was highlighted in yellow marker pen.

  'Got a light?' said Curry Bob, come slunking between the rows and everyone turned their timetables over, but he seen anyway and he told Schizo Safid and Schizo Safid told Big-Nose Jase and Big-Nose Jase told Fag Ash Devine and soon all the flops was pissing theirselves and jabbering with excitement 'cause if there's one thing really got them going it was bad stuff happening to dribblers, ain't nice I know but that's the way they was.

  It weren't till we turned our timetables over, we seen what was wrote on the back. This is what it said:

  As we sat reading it over and over, all you could hear was the sniggers of the flops and beneath them the thundering rumble of Fat Florence laughing.

  'Hang on,' said Sue, and she read it again. 'Do we have to go or not?'

  'Depends,' said Zubin. 'Not if you want to, but if you don't want to, you do.'

  'Come again,' said Sue.

  'We got to go,' Rosetta said. 'That's what it boils down to.'

  'Why can't it just say that then?' said Astrid.

  'It does,' said Michael. 'That is what it says.'

  'Maybe if you're educated,' said Astrid. 'Don't say that to me.'

  Middle-Class Michael pulled at his nose and his ears turned the colour of Turkish shop straw
berries.

  'And anyway,' said Astrid, 'why didn't you tell us? I thought you was s'posed to go to these meetings, let us know what's going on.'

  'It'll be in my notes,' said Middle-Class Michael. 'I don't remember,' he said.

  'Not much good in your notes,' said Astrid. 'Ain't that right, Brian?' We all looked at Brian, and that's when everyone noticed he wasn't there.

  'He's late for his break,' Rosetta said. So we looked at the clock and we seen it was true. Brian the Butcher was nearly three minutes late.

  Now I ain't saying I'm psychic, but maybe I am, 'cause as we's all sat there puzzling, and wondering what could of happened, I suddenly got this really weird feeling. And it's like I knew what had happened already - and I mean knew as well, not suspected — and my stomach felt like it was turning itself inside out. And do you know what I'm saying, I weren't even surprised, it was like I been waiting for it, when the double swing-doors flew suddenly open and Brian the Butcher come bursting in and hurried across the common room and sat in his chair bolt upright with his hands in his lap.

  'Is everything alright?' said Middle-Class Michael.

  And Brian he give this quick look round and he rubbed his hands on his trousers, and behind him the double swing-doors still flapping, open and shut like the gills of a fish. 'Tina's been discharged,' he said.

  27. How paranoia begun to spread like wildfire

  It was Tina going sent everyone over the edge. One dribbler discharged could of been a mistake, but two dribblers, do you know what I'm saying, paranoia run round that common room like lighter fuel in the hands of an arsonist, and with Astrid sat like a great pair of bellows belching air into the flames, it didn't take long till the walls and the ceiling and even the windows was so black with smoke you couldn't see nothing at all hardly, except for these little squiggles of light where Schizo Safid had sucked his finger and wrote his initials, SS, all over the glass.

  Tina didn't kill herself. She gone home and slashed her arms up instead. Then she stuck them back together with steri-strips, 'stead of going up A&E get the job done proper, which was Tina all over, didn't like to cause trouble. The night they discharged her Astrid gone round but Tina wouldn't let her in. So Astrid looked through the letterbox but she couldn't see nothing 'cept her mac by the door and her see-through plastic hood on the peg besides it. So then she gone up to the walkway above and had a look over the side and through this gap at the top of the curtains she seen down into the sitting room, and there was Tina pressed flat to the wall like a cop in an action film, with her head to one side, not daring to breathe like someone tried to shoot her through the letter-box. 'You should of seen her arms!' said Astrid. 'Slashed to ribbons! Ribbons!' she said. 'I couldn't work out what it was,' she said. 'Thought she was wearing lace sleeves; it was all them steri-strips. It was awful,' she said and she started to cry. 'I'll never forget it, never,' she said.

 

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