Inheritance

by Thomas Wymark

After hanging up from the health centre it took about three minutes for an uneasy feeling to well up inside me. I started thinking that perhaps it hadn’t been such a great idea to lock the keys in the car. What if I needed to get away in an emergency? What if there was a problem with the kids and I needed to get somewhere faster than my bicycle would take me?

  I pushed the doubts back down and told myself that life was full of “what ifs?”. What if I hadn’t been attacked? What if I wasn’t blacking out? What if I wasn’t slowly (or bloody quickly) slipping into insanity?

  The “what if?” questions disappeared as soon as the doorbell rang.

  Michael and Rose.

  I opened the door. The children looked up at me and rushed in, shouting “hello” as they flew past.

  Abi stood at the doorway, Jessica and Josie stood behind her. They looked nervous. Abi smiled.

  ‘How are you doing?’ she said. ‘Got ten minutes for a coffee?’

  My heart sank. I loved Abi, but I didn’t want to have to go through everything that had happened.

  But then — what are best-friends for?

  ‘Of course I have,’ I said. ‘That would be lovely.’

  Abi stepped inside, kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my arm. Jessica and Josie brushed past me and clumped up the stairs. Michael and Rose were already bumping around up there. No screams, thankfully. None of Mum’s vomit or weird stuff to deal with today.

  ‘Come through to the kitchen,’ I said.

  I put the kettle on and we both leaned back against the work-tops. Abi folded her arms. She spoke quietly.

  ‘I’ve not seen much of you lately,’ she said. ‘Not since the barbecue.’

  I folded my arms too.

  ‘Things have been a bit… hectic,’ I said. ‘You know? They found my handbag.’

  ‘That’s great,’ she said. ‘Where was it?’

  ‘Just on the high street. It had been dumped in some bushes or something. Nothing in it, of course.’

  ‘Any news on the person who attacked you?’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t think they’ll get him, to be honest,’ I said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Chris,’ she said. ‘Come on. We’ve been best friends for years. You don’t get away with it that easy.’

  ‘I mean it,’ I said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Michael and Rose were talking to Josie and Jess in the car, about you being sick in Rose’s bedroom. I didn’t overhear — they were practically shouting. They all had a laugh about it.’

  I put my hand up to my eyebrows, rubbed a finger along one of them. I felt my face blush.

  ‘Chris, it’s OK. But don’t go through all this on your own. That’s what I’m here for.’

  The kettle boiled and the switch clicked off. I turned away from Abi and made the coffees.

  ‘I was just sick,’ I said. ‘I had been in Rose’s room, just tidying a bit and opening the windows. The sickness just came on — all of a sudden. I had got a cloth to clean it all up when the phone rang. Then you guys arrived home, it was all too late by then.’

  ‘Have you been to the doctor?’ she said.

  ‘Several times. In fact I’ve just made another appointment for tomorrow morning.’

  She tapped a finger against the kitchen cabinet.

  ‘How’s Neil?’ she said.

  I turned to face her again. Looked into her eyes. Tried to detect what was going on behind the question.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said.

  ‘How’s he dealing with what’s gone on? Has he been able to take any time off? Time to be with you?’

  Her voice hadn’t changed at all. She didn’t blush and she didn’t pale. Just a straightforward question.

  ‘Actually he’s been working late a lot,’ I said. ‘Obviously he’s “there” for me, mentally. But he’s really busy at the moment. Something going on at the bank.’

  Abi nodded. Her expression showed sympathy. For me? Or for Neil?

  ‘How are the wounds healing?’ she said.

  I lifted the hair from my forehead, tilted my head down so she could get a better view.

  ‘Is it painful?’ she said.

  ‘Occasionally. It just comes on every now and then.’

  ‘Josie mentioned that Michael had a spot of bother at school,’ she said.

  I felt like I was on the defensive every time Abi opened her mouth. I felt like I had to either justify or deny things. Things that were happening to me, and my family. Abi was my friend, for god’s sake. Why was I so bloody paranoid and defensive? She wasn’t the enemy. I was.

  ‘Let’s go into the dining-room,’ I said. ‘We can talk there.’

  And how I talked. And cried. Her too.

  I told her about the dreams. Explained why I had freaked out at Josie at the barbecue. I told her about the girl on the stairs, the offensive writing on the side of the house and about going to see a counsellor.

  She asked for a glass of water when I told her about the blackouts. And she sat in silence when I mentioned the tickling, with the voices and the feelings of power and evil.

  I showed her my time-sheet. Then I showed her the one with “Bitch” scrawled on it, the one from the day I was sick in Rose’s room. And I told her about the damp flannel hidden behind my back and the phone call from Harry’s mum to say I had been waiting outside their house in my car, and then disappeared by the time she came out to see me.

  By the time I told her about the vision of the woman in the back of my car she was sobbing almost uncontrollably. I found a tissue in my handbag and handed it to her.

  ‘Oh Chris,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  I realised then how inadequate some words are. And how special some people are.

  I reached across the dining-table and took hold of her hand — just as Neil had done with mine a couple of nights earlier.

  ‘Abi, I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘You’re right. I should have spoken to you. I should have asked for your help even. I’m sorry.’

  She stood up and walked around to my side of the table. I stood too and we hugged, wet cheeks and occasional convulsive crying — together.

  It helped. Helped a great deal.

  ‘And I’ve been fighting back too,’ I said. ‘You know me — I haven’t just been taking this shit.’

  She laughed about the Vicks under my nose. She laughed too about my attempt at being Anne, although her laugh didn’t sound quite as sincere as before.

  ‘Good idea with the time-sheet and the mileage,’ she said. ‘And seeing the counsellor too. What’s he like?’

  ‘His name’s Colin,’ I said. But he seems nice, as a counsellor. I think he killed his wife.’

  That brought the genuine laugh back. I didn’t tell her that I was being serious. Just took the opportunity to laugh too.

  We both snuffled and wiped our eyes and noses with tiny bits of tissue. I had no doubt that my face looked every bit as streaked with makeup as hers. Probably worse. We wouldn’t have looked out of place as backing singers for Kiss.

  ‘Another coffee?’ I said.

  We resumed our original places in the kitchen, leaning back against the work-tops. This time, I noticed, both our arms were by our sides. I rinsed my cup and grabbed a clean one for Abi.

  ‘Why don’t I spend some time with you?’ she said. ‘It’s daft for you to be on your own during the day and for me to be on my own during the day somewhere else. If we’re together we can be there for each other.’

  ‘What on earth would I be there for you for?’ I said. ‘It would be all one-way. You don’t need me?’

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ she said. ‘You always make me feel happy. Always bring a smile to my face. You’re so funny.’

  ‘What if something happened to me while you were here?’ I said. ‘I have no idea what I do or where I go when I blackout. I don’t think I’m safe to be around. Seriously.’

  ‘Well you’re obviously safe enough to see the doctor, and to see the counsellor. And Neil and Michael and
Rose. And your Mum and Dad.’

  She had a point.

  ‘But I think it’s getting worse,’ I said.

  ‘All the more reason for us to be together,’ she said.

  She had another point. But so did I.

  ‘I think something happens to me physically when I have these blackouts. I don’t mean just the fact that I’m blacking out. I mean that I think my body changes. I think I become stronger somehow. More aggressive. If you look at the time-sheet with “Bitch” written on it, you can see how aggressively that was written. And that’s my writing, nobody else. It looks almost as though it’s been scratched onto the page. And the crossing out of the times have gone right through the paper.

  ‘And even when I haven’t been blacked out I have been aware of changes in my body. My arms growing stronger when I was tickling the kids was horrible. I felt enormous power — but not in a good way. And this morning, when I saw the woman in the back of the car, I wasn’t blacked out then. I wanted to kill her. Literally. I roared at her, I heard a voice and I prepared myself to kill her.’

  Abi smiled — just.

  ‘I’m not as weak a you think I am,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I can always carry a panic alarm with me.’

  We both laughed. A nervous sort of laugh.

  ‘You might need one.’

  ‘What time is your appointment tomorrow?’ she said. ‘I can come with you. I’ll just sit in the waiting-room while you go in. Then we can go for a coffee afterwards.’

  I hesitated.

  ‘I’m not sure what’s going to happen,’ I said. ‘In the back of my mind I half thought that they might send me to hospital.’

  ‘Well I’ll come with you there too. I’ll take a book and hang around while they do whatever they need to do. Then we’ll have a coffee.’

  ‘I sort of meant — to stay. I thought they might want to admit me to hospital.’

  Abi looked as though I had just spoken to her in Mandarin.

  ‘I was going to tell the doctor about the vision in the car. Also about the feelings I had toward Michael and Rose. I thought it was better to come clean about it all. I don’t think I can get through this safely without medical help. And I don’t just mean medicines. I think I need the health system to start fighting for me too.’

  Now Abi looked like I had slapped her.

  ‘Do you think you really need to mention Michael and Rose?’ she said. ‘I mean, you haven’t actually hurt them at all. On the contrary, you’ve given them even more love than before.’

  ‘When I’m conscious, I care for them. I make sure they’re safe and protected. And that’s why I’m going to mention it to the doctor. At the moment, I’m conscious, therefore I want to make sure they’re going to be OK. I know that anything can happen to any of us at any time — that’s life. But there is one thing that may be a danger to them that I can do something about — me. When I’m blacked out I have no idea what I feel or what I do. But the visions and experiences I’ve had have been too scary. I wanted to hurt the kids while I was tickling them. I heard a voice, and then I wanted to hurt them. That’s not normal.’

  Abi opened her mouth. I knew she was about to protest, about to say that everything would be fine, that she would be with me.

  I didn’t give her a chance to speak.

  ‘And this morning,’ I said. ‘When I saw the woman in the car, I would have killed her. I know I would, Abi. I had the strength in me, but I also had the will. I wanted her dead and I would have done it, without even thinking about it.’

  Abi shook her head, but said nothing. What could she say. She folded her arms again.

  I thought she looked like one of my children at school who had been told they couldn’t sit next to their friend in class that day.

  ‘I would love you to come with me, Ab. But I just don’t know what’s going to happen. If they admit me to hospital you might have to take a whole stack of books to read.’

  ‘What time is your appointment?’ she said

  I wondered if anything I had said had got through to her.

  ‘It’s at 9:10am,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll be here at 8:50am,’ she said.

  ‘Abs, did you hear anything I just said to you?’

  ‘All of it,’ she said. ‘I’ll be here at ten to.’

  I opened my mouth to protest. She didn’t give me a chance to speak.

  ‘Chris, if I’m not here to give you a lift, how the fuck else are you going to get there. You can’t go on your damn bike.’

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