No recognition glinted in Matthew’s eyes. No smile played on his lips at the grandeur they gazed upon.
“Sorry. I’ll just need to pop inside and get my purse… I left in kind of a hurry,” Debbie apologised. The taxi-driver was happy to wait, and she would give him the anticipated generous tip.
“Come on, Matthew.” If he resisted her again now, she wasn’t sure if she could cope. With breath held sharply in her throat, she waited as he alighted his seat and stepped onto the wide tarmac expanse of the street. She would pay the driver any amount to give chase if he eluded her again.
Thankfully it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t look built for a successful pursuit. Matching Matthew’s sloth-like pace toward the front door, she didn’t understand his reluctance. Memories flooding back; too hard to cope with, she expected. Maybe bringing him straight home had been a mistake. But what choice did she have?
The front door flew open to reveal a beaming Mandy with a hug loaded and ready to deploy. Her arms sagged slowly as she realised a show of affection wasn’t what was needed here. “Oh my god,” she hissed under her breath in reaction to her brother’s dishevelled appearance.
Debbie feared Abi’s first sight of her daddy in such a shocking state, the worry entering her head with a stab of guilt that it hadn’t surfaced before. “Where’s…”
“Out with Mum and Dad and Charlotte. You probably passed them in the playground?”
Debbie hadn’t noticed but was thankful for the chance to clean Matthew up before he re-met her. “Take my purse and pay the taxi. I’ll get Matthew cleaned up.”
Matthew stiffened as he crossed the threshold. Was it the changes they’d made? Debbie cursed her in-laws’ insensitivity. “Come with me. I’ll run a nice hot bath for you.” Was that pleasure glinting beneath the surface on those indecipherable dead pool eyes? She smiled. She’d only ever wanted to make her husband happy. It’s what she lived for.
With the water steaming, Matthew stripped and Debbie failed to stifle her gasp. Without acknowledging her, he shuffled his filthy, bony build to the edge of the bubbling pool of water. Raising his right foot, he offered it to the boiling broth and dipped it in.
This time the smile was unmistakable. Stepping in with both feet, he grasped the handles and eased himself into the steaming heat. Watching as he closed his eyes, Debbie could see his tension merging with the steam from the bath. Swirling in the air it condensed harmlessly, high up, far from him in the vastness of the Victorian splendour.
His eyes remained firmly shut, and she took it to mean he wanted to be alone. Drumming her fingers against the doorframe, she decided it was safe. He looked content—not about to run off again. Grabbing the grubby garments from the floor, she left him in peace. Pausing outside the door, the silence was only broken by her own creaking footsteps as she tried to pad silently away.
Creeping down the stairs one careful step at a time, she finally breathed out when she reached the bottom, knowing she couldn’t hear anything no matter how hard she tried. Mandy handed her back her purse, which felt cumbersome with the armful of laundry, and she stopped to place it in the sideboard drawer by the front door on her way through to the utility room.
Drifting absently back through to the lounge, a cross-armed Mandy waited until they were both sat before she could contain the barrage of questions ramming her lips no more, and allowed them to burst forth. “Where have you been? How did you find him? What on earth has happened?”
The first two questions were easy to answer, the third brought Debbie to tears.
Mandy leaped up and thrust her arms around her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Sucking in streaming tears, Debbie forced the words out. “He doesn’t want to be here! He ran away from the hospital and I had to chase after him… had to persuade him to come home with me in the taxi!”
Mandy was silent as she thought of something to say.
“He doesn’t seem to remember me.” Debbie paused and clawed her face with her fingers. “He didn’t even remember me, Mandy…” she placed her hands carefully in her lap and continued. “He remembers you, though. It was mentioning you that got him to come home.”
Mandy flushed. “I’m sure it’ll be a short-term thing. And it explains why he hasn’t been home. If he couldn’t remember… What did the doctors say?”
“They didn’t get much of a chance to say anything. He worried it might be down to his emaciated state. You know, missing salts or sugars.” Glancing down at the floor before meeting Mandy’s gaze again, she went on, “he mentioned mental illness.”
“Well, obviously. You don’t leave your family on Christmas Day if you’re fully compos mentis, now do you?”
Debbie smiled at Mandy’s light-hearted take on it.
“No, I suppose not.”
“It’ll be like we said all along. Stress got to him, and he had a breakdown. Happens all the time, particularly to those in Matthew’s position; people relying on him; multi-million pound deals. And Abi.”
“I know that’s what you said but…”
“Look,” Mandy sat forward in her seat. “He’s home. That’s the important thing. We knew he’d be suffering from stress related issues, didn’t we? It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
And for the first time, Mandy’s trivialisation of what had distressed her so for months was a welcome relief.
They both turned to a sudden sound of Matthew huddled in a towel, dripping in the doorway. “Where are my clothes?” he demanded. He seemed annoyed, but he couldn’t mean the disgusting stiggy outfit he’d come home in.
With a timid voice, Debbie informed him, “I’ve put them in the laundry room, but I expected you’d want to throw them away.” Regretting the suggestion when she saw the shocked look on his face, Debbie added, “You can put some of your nice clothes on now, can’t you?” Knowing he probably didn’t remember where their bedroom was, she raised herself to her feet and walked towards him. “Come on,” she said, extending her hand in invitation. He didn’t take it and was clearly reluctant to go with her.
As his eyes screwed in his scrutiny of his situation, Debbie waited. With little choice but to wear a towel forever or go with her, he chose the lesser of two evils and followed her upstairs.
When they reached the door to their bedroom, Matthew was still a couple of steps behind. Debbie pushed it open and stepped inside.
Matthews’s eyes gazed upon the decorative masterpieces as though he’d never seen them before and he whistled a “Wow,” under his breath. Striding to the walk-in wardrobe, Debbie slid open the doors and waited for her husband to join her.
Approval shone from his eyes at the tailored outfits hanging colour co-ordinated and pristine along every side of the small room. Checking with his host before touching anything, when he was assured it was okay, he fingered a few of the jackets delicately.
“Choose whatever you want. They’re yours. I’ll see you back downstairs in a while.” She was surprised at her desire to leave him alone with his clothes. She justified it with ideas that he might remember more if he relaxed, but she suppressed a fear that she just wasn’t enjoying being with him.
Watching him treat their home as a stranger sliced into her every minute she witnessed. She hoped her justifications were right; that he would come downstairs more himself, memories of his old life creeping through the cracks in the façade he’d constructed. But even if he didn’t, she needed a break.
“Okay?” Mandy inquired, surprised to see her returning alone.
Nodding, she stumbled in and perched on the edge of the sofa. “Pour me a stiff drink, please.” As Mandy attempted to ascertain a preference, Debbie waved a dismissive hand. “Surprise me!”
Mandy joined her on the sofa with two large French Brandies. Debbie took hers in trembling fingers and took a soothing sip. Smiling over the glass, she inhaled a deep breath, readying herself.
Footsteps echoed down the stairs and into the hallway and Debbie’s heart clenched in anticipation. He wo
re a smirk on his lips and Ralph Lauren polo with a blazer and chinos on his body. With a scarf tied at the collar he looked very nautical as well as disguising his gauntness; not quite his usual style but it worked.
“That’s better, Matty,” Mandy nodded approvingly. “Much better.”
Matthew said nothing, but still wearing the odd smile, he took a seat on the wing chair in the corner. It was always his ‘reading chair’ but had rarely been used for reading; more a ‘drinking brandy and falling asleep chair.’
Fingering the studs fixing the leather to the chair arms, he seemed oddly self-satisfied.
“Brandy,” Mandy offered with a shake of the bottle. Matthew nodded slowly, enjoying being pampered. He deserved it after what he’d been through.
He’d just taken a sip when noise echoed through the house from the back garden and Abi, Charlotte and Matthew’s parents could be seen entering the back door. Debbie stiffened. She hadn’t come to terms with her husband’s oddness; particularly his failure to remember her and she didn’t feel like explaining it to Abi and her in-laws.
At the same time, she was thrilled. They would be so excited to see him, and at least now he was clean and presentable, although his beard was a little long. He’d always been meticulously clean-shaven but a beard couldn’t disguise him.
In her mind’s eye she pictured Abi running in and throwing her arms around him. “Daddy, Daddy!” she’d cry bringing the memories flooding back to Matthew. What father could resist the affection of his little girl?
“Oh, hi, Debbie!” Alan said, surprised to see her. Abi and Charlotte could be heard chattering in the hall. “How long have you been back?”
“Not long,” she said, eyes twinkling in anticipation.
Following her gaze his eyes fell on Matthew and stunned him into silence. “Matthew,” he declared matter-of-fact; cold. He crossed the room and sat next to Debbie, failing to manifest the emotional reunion with his prodigal son Debbie had anticipated. But he didn’t kill the fatted calf. Instead, he folded his arms and stared silently into space.
His displeasure fully on display, Debbie’s chest tightened; her lips moved but no words came. Why was he being like this?
Abi skipped in, play-acting with Charlotte as the bossier of two Disney princesses. As her eyes looked resolutely in any direction but Matthew’s, Debbie observed in disbelief. Did she not see him? Had she deliberately ignored him?
Finding her voice with her authority over her daughter, she exclaimed with dramatic glee, “Abi! Look! Look who’s home.” Muteness returned as she watched her blatantly ignore Matthew and carry on her game with her cousin.
“Abigail Morrissey! Don’t you dare ignore your poor daddy like that!” She was furious. This wasn’t the action of a little girl. She was clearly under the sour influence of judgemental grandparents. No wonder Matthew had held onto his emotions until he could bear them no more. He’d been taught that showing your pain was weak. It made perfect sense.
Well Alan could behave like a heartless git, but she wouldn’t have it from her daughter. “You go and give your daddy the hug he must be desperate for, young lady. I can’t believe you’d be so horrible!”
Abi paused and looked for confirmation from Grandpa who looked away in the face of Debbie’s ferocity. With no choice, Abi shuffled over to her dad and half-heartedly leaned in for a hug. Debbie was disgusted. What was wrong with them?
And he was no better! Matthew didn’t lean forward and scoop his little girl into his arms, squashing away all the doubts she had that he might not love her anymore.
He’d left her on Christmas Day. Her first one in years she could properly enjoy. He robbed her of that. So the least he owed her was his undying, unconditional love. What was he playing at?
Sitting in silence as things refused to bend in the direction Debbie desired.
“More brandy?” Mandy offered to silence. “I’ll go and put the kettle on,” she excused herself. Debbie felt like joining her, but worried what might be said in her absence. She couldn’t risk Matthew wanting to leave again.
“So, where have you been, Son?” Alan asked, arms folded, steely stare at the floor as he spoke.
“Since when, Dad?” Matthew spat in reply.
“Since Christmas Day. What do you bloody think?”
“Oohh, let me think.” Matthew was angry. Drumming his index finger against pointing lips in an am-dram performance of rumination. “Which Christmas do you mean?” Standing up with a ferocious stomp, “Don’t act like you fucking care all of a sudden!”
Storming from the room, he gasped as he barged into the incoming figure of his mother as she bustled in removing her coat from her time away at the playground with her grandchildren.
“Matthew! You’re back!”
“Oh my god,” he hissed, and it was the last thing he said. Colour drained from his face and he crashed to the floor.
At that precise moment, the bizarre blue lighting of an emergency vehicle illuminated the half-light of the dusky hallway preceding a loud banging.
As Debbie stooped over the unconscious figure of her husband, Mandy rushed from the kitchen to open the front door. Stood with staid deportment were two burly policemen. “Good evening, madam. We are here to speak with Matthew Morrissey. Is he here?”
Chapter Thirty-four.
When the policemen entered the hallway, they were not alone. The scruffy Doctor Kay joined them, sweating so much, Mandy wondered if she should insist he stand on some newspaper to protect the parquet floor.
Despite his attendance with the police, they were all grateful to see a doctor given Matthew’s sudden collapse. Helping him back to the wing-back chair, Debbie passed him a glass of water and Mandy added another sugar to his tea.
“What happened, Matthew?” Doctor Kay shrilled, and in reply to Matthew’s shrug, he added, “You fainted. I really think we need to get you back into hospital.”
“No! I’m fine.”
Everyone remained silent, unsure how to proceed for the best.
“Clearly not, Matthew. Fainting could be a sign of an underlying problem.”
“I’m fine. It was just the shock, that’s all.”
“It was when he saw Mary, my mother-in-law; his mother,” Debbie over-explained. “He looked stunned. The next thing we knew, he collapsed.”
Doctor Kay screwed his eyes in contemplation. “Why was that, Matthew?” He shrugged again. “Listen, Matthew. It is my professional opinion that you need to be in hospital.”
“I’ve told you, I’m fine.”
“I’m concerned about you, that’s all.”
“Thank you. But there’s no need.”
The doctor shifted his hefty weight from one foot to the other, his face reddening as he glanced round the room at the faces scrutinising his every move. Forcing himself up straight, he smiled at Matthew. “I can insist.” Extending his arms, he waved his hands from the wrist, trivialising his threat. “I don’t want to, you understand? But if I think it’s in your best interests, I can section you under the mental health act. You do know that, Matthew, don’t you?”
The high pitch made his words even more patronising.
Edging forward in his seat, strength restored, Matthew stared challengingly into the doctor’s eyes, whose wet pools couldn’t maintain their gaze. “On what grounds?”
Doctor Kay manifested a handkerchief from nowhere and held it to his mouth while he cleared his throat. “You’re confused, Matthew. You couldn’t even remember your own wife, could you? And then you left hospital against my advice. If I think you are a danger to yourself, or others, that’s grounds for me to bring you in.”
Matthew nodded along as though he had something up his sleeve. “I was confused. But I no longer am. So there are no grounds anymore. I’m sorry I left without telling you. That was wrong and you were clearly worried about me.” Matthew lit his face with a simpering smile.
“But regarding my health. I just needed some TLC. I’ve had a hot bath, something de
licious is cooking and I really don’t want to miss out on dinner with my family. Not when I’ve only just found them again!”
“Your family whom you don’t remember?”
Matthew let out a little laugh. “Of course I remember. I was upset, that’s all. I was determined not to do what you wanted me to; not to say what you wanted me to say. It seems so silly now.”
“So, aren’t you going to introduce me to your family, Matthew?”
“Sorry. Yes, of course.” Matthew gestured to each in turn. “This is my wife, Debbie. My father and mother; Alan and… Mary,” he said after a pause.
“And…” Doctor Kay demanded, seeing several faces he’s not known.
“And, my daughter.”
“And?” he pressed. “What’s her name?”
Matthew’s lips wobbled, wondering if blurting out just anything might fool the doctor. In the end, he slumped with a defeated shrug. “Not everything has come back to me yet. You’ve taken my blood. I’ll happily come to see you and discuss the results, but please don’t take me away from here tonight. I need your help. I know that. But not tonight, okay?”
Doctor Kay’s eyes were so tight, it was impossible to see if they were even open.
The policemen relaxed. Their previous tense stance calmed to an ‘at-ease’ slouch. Matthew was talking sense.
“You’re the medical professional. But if he’s not in any immediate danger, is sectioning him really the best way forward?” one of them queried the doctor.
“We can’t expect these good people to cope if he becomes confused again,” the Mickey Mouse modulation of Doctor Kay filled the room as he panicked, his authority questioned.
“We’ll cope,” Debbie shot at the doctor. “We don’t want him to leave. Anything you need to do can be done as an outpatient, surely?”
“We don’t know if he’s damaged his head…”
Blurred Lines: A box-set of reality bending supernatural fiction (Paranormal Tales from Wales Book 9) Page 19
