A Form of Justice

by Dawn Marsanne

  ‘She’s saying something like Dad, stop hitting me.’

  ‘So what happened exactly?’

  ‘Well, one minute we were watching the most awful footage involving my Mum, the next minute we were told to take a break and when she stood up, she just passed out. It was very hot and stuffy in there, and I know she’s been having hot flushes. One minute she was gathering her things, the next she was on the floor. I think she might have banged her head as she went down, but there’s no sign of any cut or bruise on her forehead or anything.’

  ‘God, what a disaster,’ murmured Tom.

  ‘It was an eventful session, one of the legal team even got stung by a wasp!’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Is that you, Dad?’ they heard Trish call.

  ‘See, she’s obsessed with her Dad,’ said Beth.

  ‘Yes, it’s like she’s gone back into her childhood. I’ve been worried about her for a while although I didn’t tell you. Let’s go and see her.’

  ‘Trish, hello,’ said Tom.

  ‘Hello,’ replied Trish. ‘I thought I heard Dad? Where is he?’

  ‘Look, Trish, I think we better go to the hospital.’

  ‘Why? Is it Dad? What’s happened to him? Oh, God, is he dead?’

  Tom and Beth exchanged glances.

  ‘Let’s get your things together, and we’ll pop along to the hospital.’

  ‘Is Mum already there?’

  ‘Let’s get going,’ said Tom, ‘that’s it. Take my arm.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Beth.

  ‘Family only,’ said Trish. ‘I don’t think they’ll let you see him. Not if he’s dead.’

  They steered Trish to the car as she chattered away about disparate subjects. Little made much sense. Tom’s concerns had been mounting over the last few weeks but to find her in this state was a complete shock. He’d expected her to be rather depressed at experiencing the details in the inquiry, but something had triggered a sudden breakdown in her mental health.

  He reversed out of their driveway and soon they were waiting to join the main road. The hospital was only about a five-minute drive away, and he just hoped there wouldn’t be a big queue at the Urgent Care department.

  ‘I’ve just looked on the app,’ said Beth. ‘There are six people waiting and the current wait time is forty minutes, not bad by today’s standards.’

  ‘Well, hopefully, we might get seen right away,’ said Tom, ‘I suppose it’s possible she’s had a mild stroke, but there isn’t any evidence of loss of motor skills or anything.’

  ‘No, I’ve been keeping an eye on that too,’ said Beth. ‘Her face isn’t distorted, and I got her to raise her arms and legs.’

  ‘Are we going out for dinner?’ said Trish. ‘I’m not very hungry.’

  Tom was at a loss whether to reply honestly or to go along with the charade. It was like speaking to an elderly relative with a severe form of dementia. Suddenly he began to panic. Surely you couldn’t develop dementia in such a short space of time, could you?

  ‘Watch out!’ shouted Beth from the rear seat.

  Tom braked hard and managed to stop before he reached the zebra crossing. He needed to concentrate or they would all end up in hospital.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m just a bit distracted.

  He refocused on his driving, and within minutes they turned into the main avenue of the hospital complex. Parking was easy as the outpatient clinics had finished for the day. Slowly they walked along to Urgent Care hopefully to obtain a diagnosis.

  Chapter 14

  The young woman knocked on Melanie’s door, waited for a few seconds then opened it and looked in.

  ‘Hello, I’m Sarah,’ she said, smiling at the patient.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ replied Melanie, sleepily. She was sitting in the chair next to the bed, dressed in a pair of pyjamas which Izzy had brought in for her. A magazine was on the floor next to the chair, presumably having slid off her lap as she dozed off. Melanie stretched, yawned and then picked up the magazine. She remembered she had flicked through it periodically but none of the articles held much interest for her, and if pressed, she would struggle to remember a single thing about them.

  ‘I’m from the Liaison Psychiatry Service here at the hospital, is it OK if we have a chat?’

  Melanie frowned slightly, ‘I’ve not heard of that service before.’

  Sarah dragged over a plastic chair from the corner of the room and sat down near Melanie. She was dressed in plain black trousers, flat shoes and wore a loose long-sleeved blouse, with a geometric brown and black design. Her slightly wavy fair hair was pulled back and fastened in a messy bun at the back of her head.

  ‘We work alongside the other doctors who are caring for you to make sure that we look after your mental health as well.’

  ‘Oh, I see, OK.’ Melanie gazed at Sarah and thought how pretty she looked, noting the small mole on her left cheek which was perfectly positioned, like a beauty spot. Sarah’s professional image made Melanie feel even more untidy and dishevelled.

  ‘I can come back another time if you don’t feel up to speaking today?’

  ‘No, it’s OK, really. I think I must have fallen asleep.’

  ‘How’s your arm?’

  ‘Not too bad, I can’t really feel anything much, it’s a bit itchy sometimes.’

  ‘That’s good,’ she smiled. ‘How about your head?’

  ‘It’s painful to touch, I’m still taking painkillers as I get headaches.’

  ‘That’s understandable.’

  ‘My hair feels gross, I wish I could wash it, I must look awful.’

  ‘You’ve had an accident, don’t worry about how you look.’

  ‘Thanks,’ replied Melanie, managing a weak smile. Self-consciously she swept her hair back and tried to secure it behind her ears.

  ‘I’d like to talk a bit about what happened on Monday evening if you feel able. You can stop at any time if you feel you are getting too upset, OK?’

  ‘OK, I’ll try.’

  ‘Now, what do you remember about Monday evening?’

  ‘My recollection of the evening is very confused. I’d not been feeling well over the weekend.’

  ‘In what way did you not feel well?’

  ‘I became very depressed. I sort of spiralled down into a hole and I felt at rock bottom.’

  ‘Have you felt like that before?’

  ‘I have, but not for a long time. I used to cut myself when I was a teenager.’

  ‘OK, when did you start self-harming again?’

  ‘At the weekend, I cut my arm. It was the only way to get rid of the pain. I think I cut my leg as well.’

  Sarah listened to Melanie allowing her to relay the details at her own speed.

  ‘I can’t remember how many times I cut myself but I remember leaving my flat, and I must have met Izzy.’ Melanie closed her eyes to help her remember the recent events. ‘I remember being at the pub, although I’m not sure which one we went to. After that, I’m not sure, I remember walking across town, but I didn’t feel very well.’

  Melanie began to cry. Sarah got up and picked up a box of tissues by her bed and handed them to her.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Melanie, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

  ‘I think we should finish now. You’ve done really well, as I said, there’s no rush to talk about things. Would it be alright if I come and see you again tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, sorry, it’s just remembering what happened. I can still feel the car as it hit me.’

  Melanie closed her eyes as she remembered the accident.

  ‘I can hear the screech of the tyres. After that, well, I don’t remember much apart from some fuzzy images of being in hospital.’

  ‘OK, let’s leave it there. You’ve done really well.’

  ‘I’m feeling tired now, I need to lie down.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. Can you get into bed alright?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  Mel
anie climbed on the bed and lay back against the pillows.

  ‘Here’s the call button, if you need the nurse.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’ll come and see you again tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you. What did you say your name is?’

  ‘Sarah.’

  ‘Thanks, Sarah. See you tomorrow.’

  Sarah left and headed along the corridor to see her next patient. She felt genuinely sad for Melanie, who was having such a difficult time at the moment. Their brief conversation was a start, but she would need to talk to her for longer to decide what was best in terms of her care and to set her on the road to recovery.

  **

  Trish Webster had been seen straightaway at Urgent Care and as a precaution, she had been taken for a CT scan on her brain, just to check physically there was no damage. Trish and Tom were now back in a cubicle, waiting for a doctor to discuss the results with her.

  ‘Hello, Trish,’ said Dr Welling, who was short and stocky and appeared to be in his forties. He entered the cubicle and drew the curtains behind him. ‘How are you feeling now?’

  ‘Fine, thank you. A bit tired.’

  ‘Well, the good news is that you’ve not had a stroke.’

  ‘Oh, what a relief,’ said Tom, ‘thank you, doctor.’

  ‘Your blood tests were all normal, blood glucose is fine, cholesterol is also good. No sign of inflammation or infection. Full blood count normal and white cell count is OK. In fact, they are all excellent,’ he informed them, looking at his folder.

  Trish nodded.

  ‘Can you tell me what happened to you this afternoon?’ he continued.

  ‘I felt dizzy and then when I stood up I must have fallen over, I don’t remember anything much after that but you’re saying I’m perfectly alright.’

  ‘Can I ask you some questions?’

  ‘Yes, if you want to.’

  ‘Do you know who is the Prime Minister?’

  ‘Yes, Teresa May.’

  ‘What day is it today?’

  ‘Er, Tuesday, I think. Isn’t it?’

  ‘Where do you live?’

  ‘Bishop’s Avenue.’

  ‘OK, that’s great,’ replied the doctor, noting that her answers were now completely correct, in contrast to his earlier examination when she had struggled to answer them. Although you’ve not had a stroke we’d like to keep you in tonight just to check you didn’t hurt yourself. There’s nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Oh, is that really necessary?’ she sighed.

  ‘Do you have any idea what it was?’ asked Tom.

  ‘My theory at the moment is that it is some sort of amnesia, most likely what we call transient global amnesia.’

  Trish raised her eyebrows at this information.

  ‘It’s normally quite short lasting, up to twenty-four hours from when it manifests itself. There isn’t usually any long-term damage.’

  ‘Will it happen again?’ asked Tom.

  ‘I can’t say. Have you ever had any epileptic episodes in the past?’

  ‘No, never,’ replied Trish.

  ‘What about your history of mental health? Any problems with depression and anxiety?’

  Trish seemed reticent, so Tom looked at her, ‘Do you want to answer or shall I?’

  ‘I did have a major depressive illness when I was much younger. Since then there have been other milder incidents.’

  ‘Is there anything worrying you at the moment?’ Have you had any really stressful events happening?’

  ‘Not particularly,’ replied Trish.

  Tom looked at his wife, raising his eyebrows. ‘My wife has been supporting her friend at the SEKare Inquiry which started this week. It seems they were shown some upsetting footage and it was at that point that my wife fainted. Because of her medical history, I’m worried that it’s all become a bit too much for her,’ he paused. ‘I’m sorry, Trish but we need to be open about things.’

  ‘OK, that’s very useful to know. Trish, I’ll speak to some of my colleagues, and I think it would be useful for someone from our mental health team to speak to you.’

  ‘But I’m a counsellor myself,’ said Trish. ‘I don’t think I need to speak to anyone at the hospital. My husband worries about me too much.’

  ‘Let’s see how you are in the morning, OK?’ suggested Dr Welling and he smiled comfortingly at Tom. ‘Right, Trish, the nurse will be in to let you know when a bed is free, and I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘Bye,’ said Trish.

  ‘Thank you, doctor,’ said Tom and shook the doctor’s hand.

  They were left alone once more.

  ‘Don’t worry, Trish, we’ll soon have you back home and feeling better.’

  ‘I can speak for myself, you know.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.’

  ‘I’m feeling a bit better now, actually. I remember the inquiry. I heard you talking about it. I think some of it’s coming back to me although I have no memory of how I got home.’

  ‘Beth brought you home in a taxi.’

  ‘Did she?’ Trish closed her eyes. ‘I remember this morning but then after lunch, I just can’t seem to remember.....’ her voice trailed off.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nothing, no, it’s nothing,’ she replied.

  ‘You can’t help Beth if the images you see there are upsetting you so much,’ said Tom. ‘She will have to find someone else to go with her.’

  Tom held his wife’s hand. At least she had stopped talking complete rubbish, even if she was still a bit confused about the events of the day. Somehow her brain had blanked out a few hours, and those memories may have been lost forever. He looked at her and saw that tears were beginning to fall from her closed eyes. Soon her silent agony turned into sobs, and she leaned forward, putting her head in her hands.

  Tom felt so alone, and it was at times like this when he wished they had a family to share the burden. Perhaps that was a selfish thought, but just then he couldn’t help thinking like that. However, Trish had never wanted to have children as she was so anxious about the whole concept of motherhood and had convinced herself that she would be a poor mother because of her mental frailty. He had respected her choice, and it wasn’t something that had hugely bothered him, and he had thrown himself into his job and career. Now it was too late, and Trish’s care was his responsibility and his alone. Feeling thoroughly exhausted and unable to formulate any comforting words from his overtaxed brain, he stroked his wife’s back and willed the nightmare to end.

  Chapter 15

  A week later.

  The inquiry hadn’t been in session for the first two days of the second week due to some prior commitments of Dame Margaret being impossible to rearrange. It also gave a chance for some further information gathering on a couple of details about the health authority that would be needed for the final recommendations. Gina welcomed the two-day break, as it allowed her to catch up on some of her other casework which was ticking over in the background and also the chance to view some properties for her and Will to rent. Fortunately, the recent hot spell had broken, and the temperature had dropped by almost ten degrees, returning Canterbury to its more normal climatic conditions. Last night there had even been some welcome rain, and this morning the streets felt much cleaner and fresher.

  She had an appointment with a client at 11 a.m. to discuss a possible medical negligence suit after a botched bowel operation. That was in just over an hour, and when she had finished her coffee, she planned to pop outside for a quick vape on her e-cigarette. Since the inquiry had started, she had been seeking solace in her tobacco substitute more often. It helped her calm her nerves, but she knew that Will would urge her to cut down as the long-term effects of e-cigarettes were not yet known. Were there no vices which were safe, thought Gina.

  ‘Come in?’ she called.

  ‘Some post for you,’ said Carly. ‘Quite a bundle today.’

  ‘Great. I’ll look through it in a minute.�
�

  ‘Oh, Mr Evans, phoned to say he might be about ten minutes late, he had trouble starting his car.’

  ‘OK, thanks, Carly.’

  Gina flicked through the letters. One was from the care home where her mother was staying, confirming that an en-suite room had become vacant on a permanent basis. Gina was invited to go and see it anytime, and the letter went on to detail the monthly cost. Gina felt a great sense of relief that they had found a suitable home quite quickly and her mother, who had only spent a few nights there so far had settled in well. There was much to organise in the future regarding the sale of the bungalow but all that could wait. Her mother could easily afford to pay for a few years’ residential care out of her savings, so there was no need to rush.

  She opened what was clearly a greetings card. The card showed a reproduction of a Monet water lily painting, inside, it said, “Welcome back!” Nothing else, no signature.

  Gina frowned and looked at the envelope addressed in carefully written block capitals. How odd, she thought. Surely Will hadn’t sent a card and been so distracted that he’d forgotten to sign it? It also looked too neat for his flamboyant scrawl. Also, why now? It was a month since she’d started at Barker and Hinds unless someone had just found out about her new job. In that case, why remain anonymous?

  Gina concluded that it probably wasn’t worth worrying about as there was a lot more demanding her attention at the moment. Grabbing her e-cigarette, she left the building to seek a few minutes solitude to compose her thoughts.

  **

  ‘Hi, Tom,’ said Trish into her mobile. ‘Yes, I’m just doing a bit of tidying in the garden as it’s not so hot today. How’s your day going?’

  ‘Oh, well, apart from the online booking system failing completely causing our phone lines to be jammed, it’s going swimmingly!’

  ‘Oh, no, can you fix it?’

  ‘The technical team is here. It’s chaos, so I better not be too long. I just wanted to check you were OK?’

  ‘I’m fine, there’s no need to phone so often. Don’t forget, Francine is going to call around this afternoon, we are meeting here instead of in town. She thought it might be best.’

  ‘OK, well, I’ll text you to let you know what time I’ll be back. Goodness knows when that will be.’