by Terry Tyler
So he and Jaffa are not in the cosy little love-nest of my imagination. Ah. I can deal with seeing him with her, if there are lots of other people around. I think. Maybe I wouldn't have to see them very much at all. Oh, but the thought of being away from here―and off-grid is just what I need. No online intrigue, no conspiracy theories, no social media gossip, no trolls. No nothing.
A tiny feeling of excitement bubbles inside me, something I haven't felt for so long.
"Now?"
"Yes." Our faces are so close. "I told you about it in the letter I thought you'd ignored." He presses his cheek to mine again, so that my head is shielding his mouth from the cameras, and murmurs into my ear. "It'll be why they didn't allow the letter through. They can't stop people joining off-grids, but they don't like it 'cause they want us all in 'the system'. They'll say it's unsafe for Kendall, but it's not. Are you game?"
I kiss his cheek, my mouth close to his ear. I feel weak with the thought of this all being over. "Yes. I am." As long as it's away from here.
"Good."
He laughs, loudly, pulls back, and makes some daft remark, like I've just said something saucy. I force a laugh, too, and we kiss.
His lips on mine feel like heaven; I dissolve from the waist down.
A nearby Duncan calls out, "No mouth to mouth!"
Brody turns to him. "If I had drugs in my mouth they'd have been picked up by the scanner, wouldn't they?"
The Duncan colours up with embarrassment. "Yeah, well, it's the rules."
We ignore him, and hug. Brody chats in a light and convincing fashion about keeping in touch, and coming to visit me again.
Totally convincing. Yes, he's good at this.
Good at lying.
See, I'm not stupid.
We hold hands, and make with the cheery goodbyes.
Another Duncan holds the door open for me, and I walk out of the visitors' lounge into the sunny afternoon.
I'm getting out.
I'm leaving Hope Village.
Now, today.
Fuck it. When I see Brody and Jaffa, hand in hand over the other side of the vegetable patch, I'll just shut my eyes.
My smile is real, not forced or miserably ironic, for the first time in weeks and weeks.
Back in the dorm, I find Kendall lying on her bunk. She's reading on her phone; she looks up as I approach.
"Hey! How was it?"
"Brilliant," I say. I kneel down on the floor, close to her, and put my finger to my lips. "Shh. Don't say anything. Just pack a bag, a small one, like we're going out for a walk. We're leaving. For good."
She sits up. "What? But I've got a check-up tomorrow!"
I throw my head back and laugh, like she's just said something hilarious. "Oh, Kendall, you are funny!" I give her a big bear hug, and hiss into her ear, as I learned from Brody. "Please don't say anything else. We're going to an off-grid, and we're not having release interviews. Don't worry. Brody knows you're pregnant."
I pull away from her and stand up. "Chop chop, lazybones, let's go for that walk! We won't get many more afternoons like this." I smile around at the women whose attention I've attracted. "We're going out; shame to waste the nice weather!"
Kendall is looking at me like I'm nuts, but reaches for her boots.
"Don't forget your bag!" I get both bags out of the locker underneath our bunks, and drag out my favourite sloppy joe.
I'm just pulling it over my head when I hear footsteps beside me.
"Hey, Lita. Great news!"
My head emerges from the fuzz of black wool to see Bex beaming at me.
"You know you applied to see a copy of Nick's autopsy report? Doctor Kacszynski just called me to say he's had the okay from Head Office, and he can show it to you, now! Isn't that great?"
I pull the jumper down, and flick my hair out. "Yeah. It's just awesome. My dearest friend died under the weirdest of weird circumstances, and several weeks later the doctor finally deigns to explain them to me. I'm made up."
Her eyes widen, doll-like. "Well, he's in his office, and he said that now you're feeling more rational, he's happy for you to sit down with him and talk through exactly what happens when sudden death syndrome occurs." She tucks her hand, gently, around my elbow. "Shall we go? He's waiting for you."
"Kendall and I were just going out for a walk. Can we do this another time?"
Like never. Because it'll just be another pack of lies.
She gives me a most odd look. "Lita, Doctor K's a busy man, but he's put aside half an hour especially to go through this with you. Come on. It won't take long. You can go for your walk after. Plenty of daylight left!"
"Okay." I turn to Kendall. "I won't be long. Be ready, okay?"
"I thought you'd be really pleased," Bex says, as I follow her through the rows of bunk beds to the door.
"I am."
Outside, the weather is mild and bright, just the sort of afternoon on which my friend and I might decide to enjoy the autumnal beauty of the area.
"So, you had a friend come see you this afternoon," Bex says. "Was it a good visit?"
"Uh-huh."
She gives me a knowing look. "Boyfriend?"
"Hardly. You may not have noticed, but I've been shut up in here for the past year."
"Ah, well, perhaps when you've had a chat with Doctor K, you'll find some closure about Nick, be able to move forward, and concentrate on your job search again."
"Yeah."
"Is the medication helping? You haven't had an episode for a little while now, have you?"
Eh? "An episode?"
I sense her discomfort. "You know. When your emotions become challenging."
I open my mouth to say fuck you, but stop myself just in time.
"I stuck up for you," she continues. "Dr K was all for sending you to Fenton Hall, but I said I was sure you were fully centred, and would process the loss and move forward."
"Cheers. That's good of you."
We reach the medical block. Bex opens the door and I walk in. I glance back, and see her yanking it shut, behind me.
Shutting out the sunshine.
The door is stiff and heavy, and I watch as the light disappears.
Ker-thunk.
My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim light of the corridor; Bex is but a shadow, by the door.
It's dark and silent; no medicals on Sunday.
She switches a light on and I follow her down the passage. We don't talk.
Now she's got me here, she's shut the hell up.
We turn into a corridor that I've never been down before. It's long and narrow, with no windows. Just a few doors, on one side. Dull, grey-blue. Shut. The fluorescent light flickers, pale yellow. It's eerie.
My steps slow down. I don't want to walk down here.
The only sound is the fizzing twang of the faulty light.
We reach the end, and Bex gestures off to the right. I look. It's not another corridor but a door, about ten yards away.
A dead end.
One grey door.
Closed.
A sign says 'Post-Mortem'.
Bex is still smiling.
"Dr K's in here. Do you want me to come in with you?"
I look back, to the flickering pale yellow light of the corridor.
Forward, to the dark grey door.
It's just a door. That's all. But it seems to be looming at me.
I glance back down the corridor.
Then at the door.
Corridor.
Door.
Behind me, the hum of faulty electrics.
A sense of darkness bears down on me, like nothing I've ever known before. It's not dramatic. I don't think I'm going to open the door and see a maniac with a chainsaw or black-cloaked ghouls gathered around a pentagram. Maybe just Doctor Kacszynski with a syringe, I don't know. Or paperwork admitting me to Fenton Hall, should my emotions become challenging during our interview.
I shut my eyes; yes, I can imagine being unable to control m
yself. Accusing him of killing Nick.
What would happen then?
Something deep in my psyche is trying to get my attention.
A nudge. A warning.
A heavy feeling on my chest.
I wonder if Nick experienced this, when he opened the door to the laundry that morning.
I wonder if he felt and ignored it.
Just―nothing. The end.
Post-mortem.
If I walk in there, it's all over.
I am more sure about this than anything I've felt in my whole life, ever.
"Lita? What's up? Come on, Doctor K's a busy man―you don't want to keep him waiting!"
Hang on a minute. It's Sunday afternoon. Why would he suddenly decide he'll show me Nick's autopsy report on a Sunday afternoon? Shouldn't he be at home raking leaves off his lawn? Seeing to that bit of DIY that Mrs Kacszynski is always nagging him to finish?
Brody's letter.
Brody's visit.
They're scared I'm going to bugger off out of here, and open my mouth.
"No."
I step back.
Bex looks confused. "What's the matter?"
"I don't want to―no. Not now."
She looks around; she's nervous. "But you've got to. Doctor K told me to fetch you. I can't tell him you refused―"
"Tough. I don't have to see him if I don't want to."
"What's the matter? Are you having an episode? Come on, do your breathing. There's nothing to worry about."
"No." I shake my head. "No."
I turn and I run, back down the corridor with the flickering light, and now I really am panicking, like when you try to run from something in a dream but you can't get away fast enough―my legs feel wobbly, anxiety is making me short of breath, but I don't stop until I reach that big, heavy door. Bex is calling me, catching up with me, and my heart thuds as I pull the handle but I can't open it, it won't bloody open, it's stuck, I'm sweating and the panic washes over me in great waves―my sweaty hand is slippery on the metal, I can't get it to fucking move, and then Bex is behind me telling me to push it upwards, away from me, and I do, I wrench it up and push, and suddenly I'm back out in the sunshine, and my body is weak with relief, so weak that I flop forward, and I think for one moment that I might actually faint.
"Hey." She puts a hand on my shoulder. "What happened there?"
I'm panting. "Nothing. I don't know, claustrophobia." I shrug her off and put up my hand to keep her from touching me again. "I'm okay. I just need to be in the fresh air."
"Just breathe. Come on. Breathe."
"I am fucking breathing. I breathe all the time, every second of every day."
She ignores that. "Lita, if there's something wrong, if you need a shot of something to calm you down―come on, come back in and see Doctor K. You can talk it through with him."
"I'm not going in there, and I don't want a 'shot' of anything. Except tequila, maybe." I stand up. "Tell him―I don't know, tell him anything you like." I put my hands to my head; my temples are throbbing. "Can you leave me alone, please?"
"You shouldn't be alone right now." Then she says, "If these episodes are going to keep occurring, p'raps you do need a bit of support in a facility like Fenton Hall. What d'you say we have a chat with Doctor K about that right now?"
I shut my eyes. "I'm not having episodes, and I don't need support. Please, Bex, just leave me alone. I'm going to get Kendall, we'll go for our walk, and then I'll be fine."
I dash off; I hear her calling out, but I don't listen. My heart rate doesn't return to something approaching normal until I open the door of the dorm, and see Kendall sitting there.
She hasn't even got her boots on.
I bound over. "Come on! We've got to go. Now." I grab her arm. "I think they're trying to do something to me. I don't know what. We've got to leave. They wanted me to go into this room, and―"
She's looking at me as though I'm a lunatic. "I'm not coming."
"What do you mean? You can't stay here, it's not safe!"
She pulls her arm away. The expression on her face―she looks wary. Of me.
Are they right? Am I nuts?
"I can't just up and leave," she says. "I've got my check-up, and―Lita, I don't want to. Where's Brody taking you?"
"You know CJ―it's her cousin's place. I told you, it's an off-grid community." I'm upending my bag, taking out anything I don't need, shoving in my phone, my tablet, a bit of make-up. I tear off my jumper and leggings and put on two more pairs of knickers and two of my favourite t-shirts. "We're getting away from here, that's the important thing!"
"But Melanie and Alison―Tanya, all the girls―I'd want to say goodbye to them. And I need to be able to see a doctor, don't I? What about the release interview?"
I'm putting on jeans over leggings, shoving on my boots and jumper, tying my hair back in a knot, hooking in my silver hoop earrings. "I'm sure we're not legally bound to have one, it's not a prison; we haven't committed a crime, we're just homeless."
"But they can do a restriction order, if they think we're vulnerable―"
"Yeah, but we're not. Listen, we've been wanting to get out of here for a whole bloody year, and now we can." I'm hissing at her, trying to keep my voice down, but out of the corner of my eye I see the far door of the dorm opening, and Bex is there, pointing at me and talking to a Duncan. "Come on, we've got to go now!"
Kendall looks as though she's going to cry. "I don't want to, Lita. I don't mind it so much now; I'm having my baby, and I've got my friends."
"Do you think they'll let you keep your baby?"
She touches her hand to her stomach. "I'd never let them take her away. Never. Melanie says she'll start a protest if they even try!"
Bex and the Duncan are talking, with concerned faces; she's got her tablet out, tapping away, and they're both peering at it.
My heart thumps with panic.
"Kendall, we've got to go."
She juts out her bottom lip, like a stubborn kid. "I'm not coming. It's crazy. What if this place is awful? Muddy, and no proper toilets?" She grips the edge of the bed, as if I might drag her off it.
"I've told you, Brody knows you're pregnant. He wouldn't take you somewhere that wasn't safe." I have one last try. "Don't you want to be free again? Where no one will try to make you get your baby adopted? To be able to eat and wash when you damn well want to, and come and go as you please?"
She frowns. "Tell you what, why don't you see if it's okay, and then let me know?"
I shove the rest of my stuff back in the locker. I'll probably never see any of it again. Then I stand up, throw on my jacket, and hoist my bag onto my shoulder.
"I'm going."
She looks up at me, her eyes huge, sad. "I'm sorry."
I touch her shoulder. "It's okay. I get it."
Bex and her friend are walking this way. I give Kendall's shoulder one last squeeze, and take off. I haven't got time to think what to do about her. I've just got to get out of there.
Before I end up behind that dark grey door.
32
Out
I dash across the tarmac to Admissions, as fast as I can without looking as though I'm running away.
"Bit late for you, isn't it?" says the bag checker guard. "You usually go out first thing on a Sunday, don't you?"
"Yeah, I had a visitor."
"Well, don't you be out too long. Don't forget the clocks have gone back now." He opens up my make-up bag, my purse, the inside zip compartment of my bag. With luck, this is the last time I'll have to go through this.
I step into the scanning cubicle. My mouth is dry with fear, in case they can tell I'm wearing three pairs of knickers and two t-shirts, but I'll think of something. I'm on the home lap. In a few minutes I'll be out of here, forever.
"Okay, you're done."
I pick up my bag, my lips curving into a smile, and am just about to walk through the door towards the gate and away from Hope 37, when the scanning guard, sitting at hi
s monitor, says, "Hold up a minute, Lita. I've got an alert here."
"What?" My voice comes out in a mad squeak. "What's the problem?"
"I'm just finding out." He clicks, searches the screen. "It's a recommendation to deny exit, restriction order pending. Sent by Rebecca Grey."
"What the hell?" Panic washes over me, and I'm back at the dark grey door. Fucking Bex. She's scared she's going to get into trouble; of course, I was supposed to be safely locked inside Doctor Kacszynski's lair by now. I take back every time I felt bad for swearing at her. "She can't keep me here―for Christ's sake, I'm just going out for a fucking walk!"
"Keep your hair on." Bag Checker joins him; together they examine the screen.
"The reason given is 'concerns about your psychological well-being'," says Scan Monitor. "Says, 'client considered to be Level Three vulnerability, and could be a danger to herself'."
Bag Checker laughs. "She seems alright to me!" He looks up, grinning. "Bit of a psycho on the side, are you, pet?"
I take a massive, deep breath. "There is nothing wrong with me. Nothing. Bex is just trying to cover her arse, that's all."
Scan Monitor makes a 'hmm' noise. "There must be reasonable concerns, or this wouldn't be on here. I don't think we can allow you out, Lita. Bex has put a note on the rec; she's applied for the RO to be authorised as a matter of priority."
I clench my fists to stop myself yelling, which would, no doubt, enforce the fiction that I'm bonkers. "Yeah, well, you haven't got it yet. You can't detain me against my will."
"Actually, I can," says Scan Monitor, all puffed-up chest. "If I consider you to be a danger to yourself or anyone else, I can forbid you to leave the Village."
"What? You can forbid me? I'm not a criminal or a psychiatric patient, and you're not my prison warder, you're just here to check that I'm not bringing in or taking out guns and drugs! If you don't open that gate, I'm climbing over the fence!"
"Hold your horses, pet," says Bag Checker. "Don't get yourself in a stew, it'll only make this worse."
"I'm not in a stew, I'd just like to go out for a walk." I take a deep breath, to calm myself, but I'm shaking. "Please."
"I'm sorry, I can't allow it," says Scan Monitor. "I need to check with Bex and Doctor Kacszynski before I allow you to leave."
