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Furious Thing

Page 14

by Jenny Downham


  The youngest cop said, ‘What about?’

  I looked at Mum, but she had that ‘please don’t break my heart’ look in her eyes. So I shrugged, and the cop sighed and then he looked at John as if he might be able to read his mind.

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ John said.

  ‘You don’t want to add anything?’

  John shook his head and looked mystified. ‘I gave my son money to stay at university until after exams. That’s all I can think.’

  The cop looked at Mum who asked if he’d like some tea and he looked at Iris who smiled angelically and he looked at his colleague, who said, ‘I think a warning will suffice.’

  And the young cop nodded and said, ‘Well, it’s your lucky night, Lexi.’

  Doctor Leaman had clearly given up getting me to talk. He concentrated on Mum and John, telling them that ADHD symptoms can present differently in girls. ‘Many of the usual questions don’t pertain because girls often experience things more internally and so the questions oriented towards them are different.’

  He ran his finger down the questionnaire in front of him. He’d given me a copy to fill in when I got home. He’d given Mum and John a copy to look at. Each question should be answered with a mark from one to five depending on if I strongly agreed or disagreed with the statements.

  Do I often feel as if I want to cry? Do I get a lot of stomachaches and headaches? Do I worry a lot? Feel sad a lot? Do I know why I feel sad? At school do I dread being asked a question? Do I forget what the teacher asked the class to do? Even when I have something to say, do I not put my hand up? Do I ever volunteer in class?

  I turned the paper over on my lap, hoping for blank whiteness, but there were questions on the other side as well.

  Am I unable to control my temper? Do I think other girls don’t like me? Do I have arguments with my friends? When I want to join a group, do I feel unsure how to approach or what to say? Do I often feel left out?

  ‘What we’re looking for are patterns,’ Doctor Leaman said. ‘If Alexandra has any of these feelings both at home and at school, then that would be of interest. Or if her feelings interfere with school work or friendships, or if she’s felt a certain way for a long time, say longer than six months.’

  I gripped my fingernails into the side of the chair and concentrated on the tree outside. Plane trees require little root space and can survive in most soils. They grow up to thirty metres tall and can cause problems for buses and overhanging wires. After rain, their leaves are rinsed to a lush green shine – all the grime washed away.

  ‘The questions are a marker of emotional reactivity more than anything.’ The doctor pulled his attention from the paper and looked at me. ‘What all this means, Alexandra, is that if your feelings change a lot – if you find yourself getting upset, hurt and angry more than your classmates do – these are signs. These are the things I want you to tell me about.’

  He smiled at Mum and John. ‘It’s important to remember that Alexandra can meet all the diagnostic criteria without having ADHD. To deliver a more accurate diagnosis, I need to see clear evidence that her symptoms reduce the quality of social and academic functioning.’

  ‘She’s doing badly at school,’ John said.

  ‘She’s clever,’ Mum said. ‘But it’s like she’s choosing not to be.’

  ‘She doesn’t have any friends,’ John said.

  ‘Again,’ Mum said, ‘it’s like she’s choosing not to. She was popular in primary school.’

  The doctor turned his smile on me. ‘I’d love to hear your side of things, Alexandra. The more I get to know you, the more I can help.’

  I met his gaze. I wasn’t afraid of him. What could he do if I didn’t speak or fill in his questionnaire? How would he diagnose me then?

  John and Mum were given parental forms to fill in. They sat with pens and clipboards ticking boxes and circling numbers.

  This is what John’s questionnaire should ask him:

  Do you ever shout at your partner? Do you ever (on a Saturday night, as your children sneak up the stairs) yell, ‘Fuck off with your ridiculous accusations.’

  And does that make you: a) a bloke doing his best to deal with a paranoid woman? or; b) a man under pressure, who temporarily lost his cool? or; c) a complete and utter bastard?

  When your partner asks who was ringing your mobile all evening and tells you she couldn’t cope if you left again, do you suggest she goes instead? And then, do you walk menacingly towards her and say, ‘Go on, what are you waiting for?’

  And when your six-year-old daughter comes creeping through the door and takes her mother’s hand, do you say, ‘And don’t think for one minute, you’re taking Iris with you.’

  And when your partner starts to cry and the older daughter (who isn’t yours and who you wish someone would take away) comes hurtling in the room, do you: a) glare at her? or; b) say, ‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ or; c) say, ‘Christ, have I got to put up with you as well now?’ or; d) all the above?

  We were in Doctor Leaman’s office for one hour and thirty minutes precisely. A social history was taken (have we moved a lot? Are we financially challenged? Is a family member ill? Has anyone in the family ever had mental health problems?). John said no to everything until the doctor moved on to a symptom history when John swapped to yes – I was inattentive, impulsive and unproductive and yes, I had been for years.

  At one point, the doctor asked for a few minutes alone with me. ‘Standard procedure,’ he said, and Mum and John reluctantly left the room. The doctor smiled when they’d gone and said, ‘Anything you tell me is confidential, Alexandra. That means that although John and I know one another, I’m not allowed to tell him anything we talk about.’

  A small part of me wondered if this was a chance. I could confess, ‘I think it might be John, not me.’ I could ask, ‘Do you think he might have a condition that makes other people feel wrong? Is there such a thing?’

  But that sounded paranoid and I didn’t want to be locked up, so even though we sat there for a while and he asked me several leading questions, I kept my mouth shut until he brought Mum and John back in again.

  It was suggested I see the family GP to test my hearing and an optician to test my sight, so that physical causes could be ruled out. John asked about medication and the doctor handed over some leaflets and said we could discuss treatment options next time.

  Then the doctor looked at his watch and said what a pleasure it was to meet us. He shook Mum and John’s hands. He told me he looked forward to seeing me again soon.

  John paid the bill at reception. It was nearly five hundred pounds. I felt sorry for him as he handed over his credit card and tapped in his PIN. But in the car on the way home, I stopped feeling sorry when he said, ‘I’m glad Derek wants to discuss medical options. Did you hear him say that, Georgia?’

  ‘We haven’t got a diagnosis yet,’ Mum said.

  ‘Of course, it’s every parent’s nightmare to have to consider medicating their child, but it’s a relief to have professional input at last. Don’t you feel relieved, Georgia?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I guess so.’

  John looked at me in the mirror. I made myself look back at him. He said. ‘You didn’t do yourself any favours with the silent treatment.’

  I breathed slowly and deeply and just kept looking.

  He said, ‘Did you think you were being clever?’

  I blinked once for yes.

  ‘Keeping silent is pathetic behaviour, you know that?’

  I blinked five times for I learned it from you.

  He shook his head at me. ‘You’re not going to win this, Alexandra.’

  19

  That night, when I was in bed, Mum came into my room and shut the door behind her. She came right inside and knelt on the carpet next to me. I knew John had gone out and I hoped she was going to tell me he’d gone for good, packed his things and buggered off. I hoped my silence had driven him away, or that he couldn’t afford the do
ctor’s fees and he’d finally given up and gone to find himself a new family.

  ‘How do you feel?’ she asked. She spoke in a soft voice as if we might be overheard and this was only between us.

  I propped myself up on my elbow to look at her. ‘What, now I’m officially crazy?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nobody used that word, Lex.’

  ‘You all think it.’

  ‘What I think is that you’re finding life tough.’

  ‘Are you going to let them drug me, Mum?’

  ‘Believe me, it’s the last thing I want.’

  ‘They put kids with ADHD on Ritalin. I looked it up.’

  ‘Let’s see what the doctor says when we see him again, shall we?’

  ‘He’ll just agree with John.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll do whatever’s best for you.’

  ‘John always gets his own way. Have you noticed? Even though I obeyed all his new rules, he still sent me to a shrink.’

  ‘You threw his laptop out of the window, Lex.’

  ‘Something came over me.’

  She studied me for a long time. Then she put an arm round me and I put both mine around her. ‘I wish I could make everything better.’

  She started to hum. She hadn’t done that for ages. It was the sunshine song. When I was small, before John, she used to read me a story and then sing me a song every night before bed.

  ‘Do it properly, Mum.’

  She was embarrassed. I could tell by her laugh.

  ‘Please, Mum, go on.’

  She sat back on her knees and I sat up against the pillows. Her voice wavered because she was trying to keep quiet, but it was her voice. Just for me.

  I was her sunshine. I made her happy. Even when it was raining outside, she felt cheerful because of me. She loved me so much that if I ever went away or stopped loving her back, it would be like the sun died.

  I felt loved and valued. I felt as if we could talk about anything.

  I said, ‘What were you arguing about? When me and Iris were coming up the stairs on Saturday night?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Something.’

  ‘Nothing for you to worry about.’

  ‘John didn’t speak to you for three days afterwards.’

  ‘Couples argue.’ She stroked her hand along the duvet, ironing it flat with her palm. She tucked the edges under me, like she used to.

  ‘You could talk to me about it. I’m a good listener.’

  ‘I just came in to see how you were, Lex.’

  ‘I could offer you advice.’

  ‘Come on, it’s late. Let’s say goodnight.’

  ‘Or I could ask useful questions. Where’s John now, for instance? Do you know?’

  ‘Let’s not do this, Lex. I don’t have the energy.’

  ‘One night we should go out. You, me and Iris. We should leave a note saying we’ve gone to the cinema, but really we’ve gone to stay in a hotel, and when we don’t come home he’ll be pacing about the flat wondering where we are for a change.’

  I don’t even know where the words came from. They fell out of my mouth without going via my brain. She looked right at me and I could see the wonderful velvet possibility of revenge right there in her eyes.

  ‘What would he do?’ she said, and her voice was light like a girl’s. Her hands kept smoothing the duvet flat.

  ‘He’d be very surprised,’ I said.

  She laughed. ‘He would, wouldn’t he?’

  I loved her laughing. I loved that I could make her laugh by coming up with such a splendid idea.

  ‘He wouldn’t manage without you,’ I said. ‘He’d forget to go to work. He wouldn’t eat. He’d probably starve to death.’

  I might’ve gone too far because she stood up and brushed herself down, sweeping imaginary dirt from her jeans. ‘Enough now.’

  ‘Mum, don’t go. This is fun.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not for me it isn’t.’

  ‘Don’t get upset.’

  ‘I don’t think you realize, Lex, but every time you have a go at John, I have to defend him.’ She gazed sadly down at me. ‘I’m so tired of defending him to you.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I won’t say anything else. It’s only because I want you to be happy.’

  ‘Oh, happiness!’ She waved a hand dismissively, as if I’d said I wanted her to be ten years younger and such things were impossible.

  ‘You used to be,’ I said. ‘Didn’t you used to be happier than now?’

  ‘Time for sleeping,’ she said.

  20

  It was light, but too early for my alarm to have gone off, when John stuck his head round my bedroom door the next morning.

  ‘Where’s Mum and Iris?’ he said.

  I pulled the duvet up to my neck. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘What do you mean you don’t know? You were here with them last night, weren’t you?’

  ‘Aren’t they in bed?’

  ‘No, they’re not. You think I didn’t look? There’s no note – nothing.’

  ‘You mean they’re not in the flat?’

  He glared at me like I was an idiot. ‘Check your phone, will you?’

  ‘You put it in the safe.’

  He huffed off, and while he was gone I put my dressing gown on and tried to work out what day of the week it was. Thursday, a school day. Maybe they’d gone to get milk? But the shop was only around the corner – why would Mum take Iris? And why so early?

  John came back with my phone and stood in the doorway while I turned it on. No new messages. No missed calls.

  He took a step in the room. ‘When was the last time you saw them?’

  He smelled of smoke and booze. Had he only just got in? A terrible thought crossed my mind that he’d done something to them and was going to blame it on me, but he didn’t look like a killer as he sat on the end of my bed. He looked afraid.

  ‘Alexandra?’ he said. ‘When did you last see them?’

  ‘Last night. Iris went to bed and then I did. A bit later, Mum came in my room and we spoke. That was about half eleven.’

  ‘Spoke about what?’

  I hated how urgent his voice was. And the way he was holding his chest as if it pained him. It made everything seem deadly serious. I told him me and Mum had talked about the doctor. I didn’t tell him about the singing or my suggestion we disappear.

  ‘That’s it? Nothing else?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  He looked at me suspiciously as if I knew more than I was saying. ‘Try ringing her. See if she picks up for you.’

  It felt wrong to call her when John was in the room. What if she’d run off and was going to send for me and he heard the plan? But her phone went straight to voicemail.

  John sort of collapsed into himself. ‘Where on earth are they?’

  I shook my head. ‘Maybe there was an early assembly?’

  ‘At seven o’clock in the morning?’ He collapsed a bit more. Then he had a sudden thought and stood up. He left the room and came back only a few seconds later with Mum’s and Iris’s passports and waved them at me. ‘Well, at least they left these behind.’

  ‘You think Mum would take Iris abroad without telling us?’ I whispered.

  He called her mobile again, but she didn’t answer. He left her a message saying she had no right to withhold information about his daughter. Would Iris be going to school today? Did she know it was against the law to pull a child from education? He told her to call him immediately. He checked her Facebook and WhatsApp, but she hadn’t been online since yesterday.

  I was beginning to feel sick.

  He went through the coat rack and announced that both their coats were missing and both pairs of shoes. Iris’s school bag was on the peg, so she hadn’t gone in early. Mum’s handbag wasn’t there, but her suitcase was on the top of the wardrobe as usual. I went into Iris’s room to see if she’d left me a clue. Her stuffed elephant and her pyjamas were missing. Had Mum picked her up while she was asleep and ca
rried her away?

  ‘What about Mum’s car?’ I said.

  ‘Gone. It was the first thing I checked.’ John stood by the lounge window looking down at the car park, and then he turned to me and said, ‘Are you sure Mum didn’t mention an appointment? Maybe Iris had the orthodontist?’

  He went to fetch Mum’s diary from their bedroom and I pulled my dressing gown tighter and sat on the sofa looking for signs.

  He strode back down the hallway and handed the diary to me. ‘Nothing. But there are phone numbers at the back. Call Meryam and see if she’s heard from them.’

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘She won’t tell me anything, will she? Call from the landline, so she recognizes the number.’

  I pushed the diary back at him, but he shook his head. ‘Just call her.’

  I felt like a grass as I dialled. What if Mum was with Meryam? Or what if Meryam knew where she was and told me and then John went there and did his ‘you’re a useless parent’ speech and snatched Iris for himself?

  Meryam didn’t pick up, which was a relief, but John made me call her again and she picked up the second time. I wondered if she was avoiding me. ‘It’s Lex,’ I said. ‘Sorry, did I wake you? John asked me to call.’

  He shook his head at me, but I was glad to have sneaked him in like that. Now Meryam would know not to give any secrets away. I told her the whole story and when I’d finished she said, ‘Has Mum ever gone off like this before?’

  ‘For a couple of hours sometimes. But never with Iris.’

  ‘Yes,’ Meryam said quietly. ‘I see that’s worrying. Let me just check my phone. Hold on.’ I could hear her breathing and I wondered if she was in the kitchen with the cat and the view of the garden or if she was upstairs in her bedroom. Was Ben still asleep? Would my call have woken him too?

  ‘No,’ Meryam said, ‘nothing here. Why don’t I call her and see if she picks up? I’ll phone you right back.’

  She didn’t wait for a reply but cut me off. Her ending our conversation like that made my heart flare. I turned to John, sitting on the sofa behind me. I said, ‘What if Iris got sick in the night and Mum took her to hospital?’

 

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