‘My new job doesn’t start for a while yet, which is great as it will give us time to talk about it and make plans about what we both want to do. And I want you to be able to say anything you want to say about me leaving.’
‘Why?’ Nora pouts. ‘Would it make any difference?’
‘Not to my leaving, no. But it might help for you to tell me what you really think about it, and be angry if you need to be.’
‘Help who?’
‘Both of us.’
‘Why do you need help?’ Nora snaps.
Janet looks at her intently. ‘I want to make sure that your care is ongoing for as long as you need it and that you have the opportunity to really express your feelings,’ she says.
‘Why, when my feelings don’t count?’
‘Nora, they do count.’
‘Well, they’re not going to make any difference. You’ll still leave me anyway.’
‘I’ll be in a different hospital. I’ll be further away – but that doesn’t mean that I’m leaving you.’ Janet feels lost in the nuance of this herself, but she tries her best to look reassuring.
‘Yes, it does.’
‘As I said, if you’d still like outpatient appointments with me, we can arrange that. It just means that it will be further away.’
An uncomfortable silence descends until Janet can bear it no longer. ‘Nora, the point is that you have a choice, even though the options might be limited. You could decide to see me, or, if you prefer, not to see me. Somebody else will be taking over my job here, and if you’d prefer to see him, that’s absolutely fine.’
‘Him?’
‘Yes. Dr Bradley Newton is coming to take over my job here. I know him quite well and he’s a good man and a thorough psychiatrist. So, if you want to, you could choose to do that instead.’
‘You see, it doesn’t matter to you,’ Nora fires.
‘That’s not what I said.’
‘I don’t want to see anyone else,’ she says petulantly.
‘That’s fine then. Since we’ve worked together for so long, I thought that it would probably be better for you that we continue to see each other, but I want you to be able to choose.’
Nora’s mouth hardens into a thin line.
‘Maybe you’d like to think about it – and please don’t worry about hurting me,’ Janet says.
‘Why? Don’t you care?’
‘Nora, I care a great deal,’ she says patiently. ‘That’s why we’re talking about it rather than me just walking away.’
Despite herself, Nora squints from under her brows, reading Janet’s face, but says nothing. And then the drawbridge is up and Janet knows she won’t be granted access again today. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Then, without a word, Nora lifts herself off the seat and walks towards the door.
‘Nora?’ Janet calls, but Nora continues to walk. ‘Nora! Just think of all the times that you’ve wished you could have the opportunity to talk about what’s going to happen. Don’t walk away now.’
Nora stops and turns. ‘I’m taking the time you said I could have to think about it.’
‘Good,’ says Janet, with a reassuring smile. ‘If you come to a decision, maybe you can let me know.’
It’s late in the afternoon and Janet is tidying up ends before she leaves the office, shuffling things around and not making much progress, her mind on Nora. She hears her mother’s voice. The right way isn’t always the easy way. At some point she has to trust that Nora can make decisions for herself and step back to allow her to do so.
Her hand wanders to the phone, and she dials almost subconsciously. ‘Ellen. I talked to Nora about me leaving.’
‘How did she take it?’
‘She was a bit angry, which is healthy. I offered her the option of continuing to see me as an outpatient or seeing my replacement. She’s thinking about it. I think she’s OK, but just in case, will you keep an eye on her? I’ll be off shortly and I’ll pop in in the morning. But give me a call if you need anything.’
‘I will, but she hasn’t come back to the ward. She usually comes back to collect her bag and check out.’
The hairs on the back of Janet’s neck stand up. ‘It’s almost two hours since she left me.’
‘Leave it with me. I’ll get someone out to find her.’
‘Oh, God . . .’
‘I’ll call you back,’ says Ellen, a new urgency in her voice, and the line goes dead. Janet stands stock-still, the phone in her hand. Her heart fills with dread. Then, as quickly as she can, she dials the nursing station. There’s a tap on the door.
‘Come in,’ she calls distractedly, still listening to the ringing tone. Pick up, somebody!
The door opens and there is Nora. Janet puts down the receiver and closes her eyes. She says nothing, just breathes in relief, giving her pounding heart a few moments to recover.
‘I’d like to come and see you at your new hospital for my appointments, if that’s all right.’
‘That’s just fine, Nora,’ Janet says, hoping her voice sounds calm and steady. ‘Just fine. We’ll sort out the details when we see each other next week.’
Nora nods and, without another word, turns and leaves. Janet slumps back in her chair and closes her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she murmurs, her eyes upcast.
‘Ellen, false alarm,’ she breathes into the phone. ‘I think she’ll be on her way back to you now. She’s OK.’
Chapter Twenty
Even though she has been in her new consultant’s post for over a week now, Janet still has a thrill when she walks into her office. In many ways it feels as though she’s always been here, and she is certain that this is what she’s meant to do. But this morning she has a heavy heart, having received a call from Dale last night to say that Nora was readmitted on Friday in a regressed state, refusing to eat or get up out of bed, and being more than the group home could manage. All the old doubts about how she can manage to continue Nora’s care from a distance came flooding back in an instant, and she has been brooding on them ever since. She picks up the phone.
‘Hi Dale, how are things this morning?’
‘Not much change, I’m afraid. She did have some tea this morning but refused to eat anything. Kit’s coming across to see if she can get her into the shower and coax her to have some toast in a little while. If anyone can do it, she can. Don’t know whether I mentioned that I called Joe on Saturday morning and he came in to visit, but she wouldn’t even look at him, let alone talk.’
‘Ugh! I hate to think of her like this. Was there any warning?’ she asks, feeling even more guilty.
‘Evelyn mentioned maybe on Wednesday that Mrs Singh had called in to say Nora wasn’t coping so well, but by Friday, she’d got a lot worse and Mrs Singh felt that Nora needed to come in.’
‘Wish I’d known,’ Janet grumbles.
‘Why – what would you have done that we couldn’t?’
‘Ouch, a bit harsh, Dale,’ she says, irritated. ‘I know you can deal very well with bad behaviour.’
‘And is that what you think this is, Janet? Bad behaviour?’
‘Well, what are you calling it?’
‘Heartbreak. Not a very professional term, but I think that’s what it is, nevertheless.’
All at once, clarity dawns on Janet and her face crumples. ‘Oh Dale, I’m sorry. I’ve only been gone ten days and have an appointment with her later this week, so I didn’t think. Would it help if I come down?’
‘At this point I think that would be helpful,’ he says, his voice softer now. ‘But I know you’re all tied up there so there’s no easy solution.’
‘I’ll juggle a few things around and try to get away mid-afternoon, but I need to clear that with Dr P and also Brad. Don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.’
There’s a slight pause, just enough to tell Janet that this isn’t all the difficult news Dale has to deliver. ‘What else do you need to tell me?’
‘Yes, well, I’m afraid you’re not the most popular bunny
here at the moment,’ he says.
‘I can imagine. How bad?’
‘I guess when the baby still cries for Mummy when Daddy is doing his best to pacify it, he gets angry about being a poor second best . . .’
Janet closes her eyes. ‘Understood. I’ll wear my flak jacket and tin helmet.’
‘Good idea.’
It’s almost five by the time Janet arrives. Nora lies curled up like a little caterpillar, facing the wall.
‘Hello, Nora,’ Janet says.
Silence.
‘Nora, I know you can hear me. It would be really nice if you turned over so we could talk.’
Nothing.
‘I’m sorry you’ve not been feeling well.’
‘Leave me alone,’ Nora whispers, her face still towards the wall.
Well, at least that’s something.
‘Nora, I’m sorry it’s hard for you, but coming back into hospital isn’t going to solve things. Can we talk and see if we can find a good way forward?’
‘Go away.’
Janet walks over to the next bed and stoops to collect a chair, when suddenly Nora jerks upright, her eyes searching until they finally come to rest on Janet. ‘I thought you’d gone,’ she says in panic.
‘No. I’m not going anywhere until we’ve talked,’ says Janet, placing the chair by the bed and sitting down. ‘Nora, I can’t give you any guarantees about how your life is going to be. I can’t, in truth, say it’s going to be fine or that it’s going to work. But I do know that this isn’t helpful, and I think you know that too.’ She pauses. ‘Do you remember when you cut yourself and I said you could have told me what you wanted to say rather than act it out? Well, you’re acting this out too. I’d like you to talk to me, like the amazing woman you are, so we can discuss how we can make it feel better for you.’
Nora turns back to the wall.
Janet waits, trying to be patient, yet she knows that this needs a different approach. ‘Nora!’ she barks. ‘At least look at me so I can talk to you. Your soul is awake now, Nora, and I, for one, am not going to give it permission to go to sleep again. You’ve come so far and I’m not going to sit here and let you destroy it all. So, I want you out of that bed, into the shower, dressed, and I’ll see you in Dale’s office in half an hour.’ She stands up.
‘Go away.’
‘I am going away,’ Janet says sharply. ‘Thirty minutes. Dale’s office.’
And, though she hates seeing Nora like this, she knows that she must walk away. She nods to Dale on the way and signals with her eyes for him to follow. He catches up with her at the end of the corridor. ‘How did it go?’
Janet sighs. ‘I don’t know yet. Can I use your office?’
‘Sure.’
‘I’ve told her I’ll see her there in thirty minutes.’
‘OK. So, I guess the ball’s in her court.’
‘Yes. I hope to God she does something with it, because I haven’t got anything else up my sleeve.’ She sighs and leans into Dale, who puts a warm arm around her shoulders and smiles down at her. ‘Well now, it just so happens that today – and for one day only – I have a special offer running: any guest using my office gets room service. Tea?’
‘Dale, you’re such a blessing. I want to put you in my pocket and take you to my new place.’
‘You’d need a very big pocket.’
‘That could be arranged.’
And he laughs as he walks away.
Janet sits in one of the two chairs at the front of the desk, quite still, eyes closed, hoping against hope that Nora will appear. She’s already drunk her cup of tea and has nothing to do but wait. She’s well aware that she must keep to her word and, on this occasion, thirty minutes has to be exactly thirty minutes – or less, but not more. She looks at her watch for about the tenth time. Twenty-eight minutes. She sighs, drumming her fingers on the desk. Nora, please.
There’s a tap on the door.
‘Come in,’ she shouts. The door opens and a newly washed Nora stands there, hair wet and plastered to her head, eyes cast down.
Janet stands – she’d love to give Nora a hug but decides against it, for now. ‘Lovely to see you, Nora. Come and have a seat.’
They both sit, but neither says anything for a while. Janet eventually breaks the silence. ‘Nora, as I said before, I know it’s very hard for you. And I’m sorry. I would love it if we can look at what might make things better for you.’
For a moment, it seems that Nora might not even have heard. But then she lifts her head and looks at Janet. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I know I have an appointment with you soon, but I thought you didn’t really mean it and you’d cancel it and not see me,’ she says.
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Because I’m a burden.’
‘Not to me. You know, it feels like you wrote a little play in your head, then played all the parts and got to the end where you’re abandoned, and that was that. But no one else had the chance to say anything before you acted it all out. I have no intention of cancelling your appointment – in fact, I’m really looking forward to seeing you and hearing all your news. And Audrey is all set to accompany you until you feel confident to come alone. And she’s excited too.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Oh . . .’
Janet peers wistfully at the leafy lanes around Hillinghurst as she drives back to London. She keeps coming back to what Ellen said about the relationship between doctor and patient often becoming the most important thing in the life of someone who feels they have nothing. A huge responsibility for the clinician. Nora’s emergence into the light of life, having been buried years ago when she was just a child, has been nothing short of spectacular. Janet knows that Nora couldn’t have done it without her, but the last thing that Janet wanted was to create dependence. She sighs, knowing there is no simple solution. All she can do is hope that the continued love and support of those around Nora will carry her through.
Chapter Twenty-One
It’s a big day for Nora. After several accompanied visits to London for her appointments with Janet, today she’s travelling alone by train. She has a packed lunch – a ham sandwich wrapped in greaseproof paper, a banana and a Thermos flask of tea – and she’s loving watching the world go by from the comfort of her window seat. She is fascinated by her fellow passengers.
Sitting opposite her is a man of about forty. His eyes are closed, while the long fingers of his right hand tap rhythmically on the seat beside him, as though he may be silently humming to some nostalgic tune. His slight, contented smile intrigues Nora, and she wonders what memories are being evoked by the music. His left hand, bearing a wedding ring, rests on his open wallet balanced on his thigh, and between his fingers Nora can see slivers of a photograph. Nora also has a photograph. It’s the one of Robert she tore from the newspaper. It’s tucked safely inside the notebook that she carries with her everywhere.
The man opens his eyes abruptly and looks directly at Nora, who quickly averts hers, a blush creeping up her neck and pinking her cheeks. She blinks. Then her eyes are drawn back to the man, shocked to find him still looking at her, smiling – at her blush, no doubt. A woman in her sixties, blushing!
He moves his hand to the side, revealing the picture of a beautiful woman. ‘My wife,’ he says, as though those two words explain everything, then he closes his eyes and resumes his tapping, leaving Nora with the kernel of their story – the man, his wife, their love and their music.
Her own love story, which has slept curled up in her heart all these years, creeps to the surface. Within it are the beauty, the longing, the grief and the lost potential of a seventeen year old in love who, with all of the finesse of a blind mouse, tumbled into a doomed pregnancy. She remembers also their music and knows that she too has been loved.
Tidy fields and Friesian cattle rush by, losing themselves behind the train. Yet, as she sits still, more countryside constantly opens up before them, embracing th
e train as it cuts its path. Could her life still be like that? New fields to walk in, new flowers to pick? New people to meet? And she murmurs to the glass pane the mantra she’s been using these last days as she prepared for this journey. ‘I can live. I can love. I can be.’
As she reaches her destination, Nora views herself in the mirror in the foyer, wanting to look nice for Janet. Far different from the girl who stared back on that dreadful night when she was seventeen, but better than the version of a couple of years ago who appeared to be dying from the inside out. Her hair is longer, more grey than chestnut, but it’s resumed its natural bounce. There’s a web of lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes, but there’s a liveliness that was lost during those years in the parched wilderness of her life.
Janet’s secretary’s office door is open, and Nora taps as she enters, giving the bespectacled, middle-aged woman there a shy smile. She takes in the wine-coloured jacket, soft pink blouse and pearls. A three-stoned engagement ring nestles in an accommodating fleshy indent beside a wedding band; Nora imagines those hands caressing grandchildren.
‘Maybe you’d like to take a seat in the waiting room. Dr Janet won’t be long.’
The waiting room is welcoming, with women’s magazines laid in neat rows, along with one men’s magazine bearing pictures of motorbikes. A thin, pale woman fidgets with the corners of the pages of a magazine – ruffling them, twisting them between her thumb and index finger while her eyes seem lost elsewhere. Maybe she’s worrying about paying the rent, coping with her children or her husband having an affair. Nora hasn’t had to deal with any of those things and, even though her life has been restricted, her basic needs have always been met without her having to worry. In fact, when it was decreed that patients should have some recompense for the work they did, Nora – being a non-smoker – didn’t really have anything to spend money on. But then Joe changed that.
He had a gramophone. For weeks before her birthday he’d teased that he had a secret plan. They had agreed to meet in the gardens and he appeared with a big smile, wheeling himself as quickly as he could, signalling that she should follow, then when they were out of sight, he had whisked the blanket off some kind of box on his lap upon which was a large packet, which he handed to her.
The Girl Behind the Gates Page 29