Morrison Adams Circles of Subterfuge collection

by H A Dawson

  We sat in silence, and after a few moments, Lauren passed me a hesitant stare. I believed for a moment that she was going to say something—it certainly looked that way—but having held me in her gaze for a brief moment, she looked away. I didn’t believe she was going to offer me sympathy; it was something else troubling her, something I couldn’t fathom.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked eventually. ‘You seemed like you were going to say something.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’ She rose to her feet. ‘We’d better get out of here before the men in white coats drag me away.’

  I agreed with her decision, stood up, and grabbed my bag resting on the ground.

  ‘I don’t want to go to mental health. You’ll back me, won’t you?’

  ‘What do you want to do?’

  ‘I …’ She gave me an anxious stare, scanned her surroundings, and turned back to face me. ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘Are you sure that’s the right thing for you? No one wants to see you go through that again.’

  ‘I’m sick of being in the hospital. I know I said earlier that I didn’t want to go home, but I was wrong. I’ll feel much happier in my own surroundings. You will help me, won’t you? You promised.’

  ‘Of course.’ I touched her arm in a show of support. ‘But I don’t want you trying anything like that again. I couldn’t cope.’

  ‘I won’t, I promise.’

  I hesitated to progress to the lower floor and wondered if I was in a fit state to be making decisions regarding her health. I had known for a while that she was depressed although I hadn’t been certain of the extent of it. Perhaps medical help would be the best option for her; it might make the final weeks of her life tolerable.

  ‘You doubt me!’ she said in a raised voice.

  ‘No, I don’t. I’m just concerned, that’s all. I’m not the right person to be making medical decisions about your health. I want what’s best for you, as we all do.’

  ‘I won’t go to the nut house! I’ll discharge myself with or without your help! No one can make me stay, nor can they make me take medication I’m not willing to take.’

  ‘No one’s trying to do that.’

  Lauren glared. ‘They’ll try. Just you see if they don’t. If they have their way they’ll lock me up somewhere and throw away the key.’ Her eyes moistened. ‘Perhaps it’s the best place for me.’

  I placed my hands on her upper arms and speaking as assertively and compassionately as I could, I tried to reinstate the self-belief she had displayed only minutes earlier. I wanted her to trust me, but at the same time, I wasn’t willing to give into everything she wanted. As far as I could tell, she wanted me to care for her and be entirely responsible for her. I could do the former but I didn’t believe I had the mental fortitude for the latter. As it was, I was treading dangerous ground by siding with her. I didn’t want to do anything during my suspension that could potentially ruin any chances I had of rebuilding my career.

  Nevertheless, we seemed to come to a loose agreement, one that involved me supporting her over the coming weeks. I didn’t mind since I wouldn’t have much else to do. However, I was aware that once I’d had a chance to mull it over I might change my mind. But that was a thought for another day. For now, we had to progress to the lower floor and face the consequences of her actions.

  We progressed down the steps, and upon our arrival onto the top floor, I scanned the corridor. There was no one about and I falsely believed we would make a swift escape. Unfortunately, we weren’t so lucky, and upon our arrival at the staircase at the far end, I heard Sheila calling out Lauren’s name. We had no choice but to turn around and learn what she had to say.

  ‘I hope you weren’t both leaving,’ she said.

  Not responding and feeling like a naughty child, I glanced at Lauren.

  ‘Can you come with me, please Lauren?’ Sheila said then turned to me. ‘You can go home now, Ebony.’

  ‘She’s staying with me,’ Lauren said. ‘I’m hiring her as my nurse.’

  Sheila looked stunned and passed me a questioning stare. Lauren’s explanation may be a stretch from the truth, but I wasn’t about to contradict her and let the moment pass. Since Sheila had betrayed me by suspending me, she felt like my enemy giving me every reason to side with Lauren. So, feeling more proud than I had done all day, I remained by Lauren’s side as we progressed into a vacant room.

  ‘I’m not receiving any more treatment,’ Lauren said. ‘I’m going home.’

  ‘For a start, you’ve not been discharged, and secondly—’

  She cut her off. ‘Then I’ll discharge myself. I was told it would happen today anyway.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s wise for you to go home without a consultation. At least let us make an appointment with the relevant department. Your health is our business. I don’t want to see you making any more rash decisions.’

  ‘It wasn’t rash, it was considered. And, I don’t need an appointment since I’m not going to be taking any more medication.’

  Sheila passed me a quick glance. From her expression, I could tell she was hoping that I would talk some sense into her, but aside from the fact I was irritated by her earlier treatment of me, I tended to agree with Lauren. She needed someone to listen to her problems and help her drive some of them away. Dosing herself up with medication to go through her remaining days in a daze would not be productive or helpful, nor would it help the weakened state of her body.

  Eventually, after several more exchanges, with Sheila repeatedly pointing out Lauren’s suicide attempt and the dangers of leaving it untreated and Lauren remaining resolute in her decision to go home, we left the room.

  Even though I hadn’t been directly involved in the process, I felt as though we had won a small battle. I felt immensely proud to havegot one over Sheila, even if it wasn’t anything to do with me, and walked away with a smile on my face. She had treated me appallingly over the course of the last few weeks, and I felt glad to be out of her company. I knew those feelings would change when the reality of my suspension hit me, but until then I was happy to block it out and focus on Lauren.

  Once we had gathered Lauren’s belongings from the ward and she’d signed her discharge papers, we left for her home. The reception I’d received from the other staff surprised me. Apparently, they had forgotten the shame surrounding my suspension and labelled me as the hero who’d saved a life. There were also numerous good wishes for Lauren, and as far as I was concerned, they seemed genuine. Lauren, though, wasn’t so convinced, and as we walked away, she criticised the insincerity of their comments.

  I passed her a sad look, regretting her negativity and inability to see things for what they were and to react graciously. From what I knew of the nurses on the ward, their concern for her safety and well-being would have been genuine and heartfelt. Likewise, they would have been devastated had she jumped to her death, and it would have taken a while for them recover. They were good people and I would miss them dearly.

  We progressed down the steps, along the corridors, and to my exit leading to the staff car park. Our conversation was limited to insignificant matters. I sensed the serious stuff would come later, but I hoped it would be another day. I was far too tired to participate in another intense conversation and wanted only to drop her home and then go somewhere private to drown my sorrows.

  Upon arriving at my car, I heard the tinkling sound of my phone in my bag. I hadn’t checked it all day and believed it would be Kelly asking how my day had progressed. Whilst I was desperate to talk to her, I didn’t want to do it in front on Lauren, and let it ring.

  ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s fine. I know who it’ll be.’

  ‘I can’t do that. A ringing phone drives me to insanity. I have to see who it is, at least.’

  It continued to ring as I unlocked the car doors and we climbed inside. Her comment must have stayed with me as I started to imagine the person calling was someone important. I
even considered that it might be someone telling me that my suspension had been a mistake and that I had to go back to work. Hence, I snatched it from my bag.

  As suspected, it was Kelly. She had called three other times during the day and left a couple of messages. I felt blessed to be at the receiving end of someone who cared as she did. She was a genuinely good friend and I loved her dearly.

  ‘It was my best friend,’ I said, placing it into my bag. ‘She’s called multiple times. No doubt she’s learned what’s happened.’

  Lauren did not respond and stared through the window into the car park. I started the car, gazed sideways at her and noticed a hint of bitterness and possibly jealousy in her expression. She had no one who cared for her and there I was, boasting about my relationship with Kelly. I had been tactless, but there again, my heart was also breaking in two, and given the day I’d had, expecting me to be entirely compassionate towards Lauren was more than my capabilities.

  ‘I reckon you’ll regret involving yourself with me,’ she said. ‘Everyone usually does.’

  ‘I doubt you’re that bad,’ I said and glanced at her with a glint in my eye.

  She did not respond, so I didn’t either. It was clear that she had a massive downer on herself, and if I weren’t careful, she would drag me down too. It made me question if I had enough emotional strength to be her support. But I could hardly get out of it, not now, not since I had given Sheila my word that I would help Lauren as and when I could. If I walked away and she made another attempt at suicide, and, if God forbid, it worked, it would be on my conscience. In addition, it wouldn’t look good on my record. The hospital may not employ me in an official capacity any longer, and neither did Lauren, but that did not mean to say that someone wouldn’t hold it against me. Where Sheila was concerned, anything was possible.

  I turned to Lauren. ‘We’ll get through this together as I said we would.’

  ‘You’re not obliged, you know. I won’t hold it against you if you turn your back on me.’ She folded her arms. ‘In fact, it might be better for you if you did stay away from me. Bad things happen to those I associate with and … and it’s not a coincidence.’

  I flashed a worried glance.

  ‘I’m being serious and if you had anything about you, you’ll take me seriously too.’

  Whilst it would be easy to be drawn into her negative slant on life, I chose to dismiss her comment and continued my drive to her home. I’d learnt she lived on the side of the city that I rarely went into. It was one of the poorest areas, where vandalism and theft were commonplace and where a disproportionate number of young offenders and criminals lived. It was also somewhere where people often joked that if a driver stopped at a junction for too long then the wheels of the car would disappear.

  ‘How long have you lived in your current home?’ I asked.

  ‘Sixteen months or so. I was broken into a couple of times right at the start, but as you’ll see, I don’t have anything of value—not any more. They took my jewellery and since I didn’t replace it—something they learned the second time they broke in—they haven’t been back.’

  I passed her an attentive glance.

  ‘I don’t give a shit about material things. I did once upon a time.’ She flung back her head. ‘Boy, did I? You probably don’t believe it, but I was once a rich woman.’

  ‘That must be hard for you.’

  She shrugged. ‘Like I said, it’s irrelevant. If I could have one thing in life, it wouldn’t be to get my diamond ring back it would be to have a relationship with Austin.’ She shot me a glance. ‘He’s my son.’

  ‘Won’t he talk to you at all?’

  ‘Not one word. It’s hard enough to get James to listen to me—he’s my ex. They’re like two peas in a pod—definitely came out of the same mould.’

  ‘Do they know you have cancer?’

  ‘I’ve not told them. As I said, they won’t give me the time of day.’ She puffed out a breath of air. ‘Since these things have a way of getting around, they’re likely to know.’

  ‘How does Glenn fit in?’

  She did not reply, causing me to turn to look at her a couple of times to ensure she had heard. Her silence aroused my curiosity. She was willing to talk about her mistakes and a son’s refusal to speak to her, but not Glenn. Why was that? It seemed strange.

  ‘Go left opposite that shop,’ Lauren said.

  I slowed the car down and made the turn at which point she guided me to a block of flats at the top of the hill. Whilst the area seemed a little rough and unkempt, I didn’t see anyone loitering, thugs or otherwise, and it didn’t appear as bad as I’d expected. However, on closer inspection, I noticed areas of graffiti, litter—including cans, clothing, and broken pieces of furniture—and a group of youths in hoodies smoking pot or something similar.

  ‘You will come in for a bit, won’t you?’ she asked.

  I didn’t feel comfortable leaving my car. It wasn’t worth a lot, but having it stolen would be another hassle I’d prefer to be without. Nevertheless, given what I’d promised, I didn’t have it within me to refuse, so once I’d parked up and checked the rear seat for anything that might be worth stealing, we went inside.

  Her flat was on the fourth floor. We climbed the stairs passing a couple of women who Lauren said were prostitutes, and a scruffy man with shaggy hair, tattered clothes, and a coarse complexion with stubble. My instinct was to avoid making eye contact with him, but he turned out to be a lovely man and supportive of Lauren. After we’d shared a brief chat and after he’d taken pride in telling her that he had been keeping an eye on her flat, we progressed inside.

  A pile of mail was on the floor, from advertising leaflets to personal letters. Lauren stepped over it and continued through a small living room with shabby furniture and an old-style box-television to the kitchen on our right. As she made a drink, I decided to make myself useful, and gathered the scattered letters and leaflets and took them to the blue and gold print sofa. Placing them down, a leaflet near the top caught my attention. It was advertising blurb from a local takeaway shop, and it looked innocent enough. However, the traces of heavy writing on the rear didn’t seem normal, and with my curiosity aroused, I turned it over.

  My jaw dropped and a slight moan escaped my mouth. The message was a personal one for Lauren; someone considered her a coward for not jumping to her death.

  It was a vile thing for someone to do and enough to make my stomach churn and a bitter taste to rise to my mouth. Stunned, I tried to get my head around what I was reading and continued to stare. Had I thought a little quicker, I would have removed it from Lauren’s view. When such a thought occurred to me, it was too late. She had seen I was looking at something distasteful and snatched it from my hand, gave it a cold stare and scrunched it into a ball. Then she returned to the kitchen

  Realising she didn’t seem surprised, I dashed after her. ‘How long has someone been threatening you?’

  She did not reply and stayed in position with her back to me and poured the boiled water into the mugs.

  ‘Lauren … I can’t help you if you won’t speak to me.’

  ‘There’s nothing to say.’

  ‘I’d say there is. It’s been going on for a while, hasn’t it?’

  Silence.

  I hurried to her side and when she didn’t make eye contact, I pleaded with her to look at me.

  Responding, Lauren turned her head. Her skin was red, her eyes moist and her cheeks damp with tears. ‘E-everyone hates me. I … I should have just jumped. It … it would have been better that way.’

  I gripped her shoulders. ‘Don’t you ever say that, got it?’

  She held a tense stare.

  ‘So this has been going on a while?’

  She said it had and then fell into my arms sobbing and wailing. God help me if I ever learned who was doing this to Lauren. She may have made her mistakes and probably had, but she didn’t deserve such treatment. She was a terminally ill patient for goodness sak
e. Did that count for nothing? Clearly not.

  Chapter 4

  Lauren didn’t take long to regain control of her emotions, at which point she finished making us both a coffee and handed me mine. Whilst she remained subdued, I silently questioned the character traits and motives that must belong to the sender of the note. I craved answers, but at the same time, I was exhausted and emotionally drained and didn’t have the energy to bring it up. I also felt as though I would speak without clarity of thought, something that would not be useful to either of us.

  Lauren, though, seemed to have other ideas. Once we had seated ourselves at a small kitchen table, she told me that she had received other messages during the last couple of years. That in itself was worrying. I was even more horrified to learn that she was clueless as to who the sender was.

  ‘Have you spoken to people about it?’ I asked.

  ‘A little. But what’s the point, really? It’s never changed anything and even if I speak to the person who’s done this to me they’re not going to admit to it, are they?’

  ‘I guess not.’ I sipped my coffee. ‘It must be unsettling.’

  Of course, it is. It usually occurs after something terrible has happened … like after I grassed on Austin to the police.’ She paused. ‘He always claimed he was innocent, yet I never believed him … not until I received the note.’

  ‘Don’t be angry when I say this but could he have sent it?’

  She shook her head. ‘I admit it was one of the first things I thought of. But I ruled him out fairly quickly. I received a message similar to this one, and it was hand-delivered. It arrived when he was in prison.’

  ‘Could he have asked a friend to do it?’

  ‘It’s possible but I think it’s unlikely. You have to trust me on this. I know my son.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ I paused. ‘Could your ex, James be involved?’

  ‘No. He might be many things, but this is not his style.’