by Sheila Tibbs
The characters and properties contained in this novel are
Purely fictitious and bare no resemblance to any persons living or otherwise.
Sheila Tibbs Copyright 2006
All rights reserved.
No parts of this publication maybe reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
Recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the Copyright owner.
British Library Cataloguing In Publication Data A Record of this
Publication is available from the British Library.
First Published 2006
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS.
I wish to thank my sisters, my children Darren, Sherree, Shannon and Nathan
For their encouragement, help and patience, my husband Steve, who without,
Isobel would have remained a dream not a reality.
Thank you all.
To my husband Steve, with love.
Her name was
ISOBEL
Sarah awakes to find herself in a psychiatric hospital where she can’t or won’t remember her past, but the safety and security of sleep fails her, plunging her into a nightmare where reality and fantasy become one, a nightmare she would sooner forget.
But how?
Life in the small Essex village of Canewdon will never be the same now Isobel has come to stay.
Chapter One.
BEN WILLIAMS had been a psychiatrist for over twenty years, and had written numerous papers on the mind ... but he had never experienced a patient like Sarah.
He had always hated restraining patients in his care, even though he knew it was for their own safety, and the safety of his staff ...But Sarah?
She didn't believe she was a danger to herself, more that she was a victim of some unseen force out to get her; she actually seemed to fear for her life, so why had she been restrained? Surely that's enough to send anyone over the edge.
Was she delusional, or was she suffering from some form of schizophrenia?
Opening her file, Ben began to read.
Why would a normal, level-headed young woman, try to take her own life?
All she'd ever wanted was a family, so why would she now reject her own baby, the baby she had so badly wanted?
Ben knew this was more than postnatal depression, but what had motivated her to throw herself off the first floor balcony, onto the concrete drive below?
He knew he had to win her trust, and hopefully, between them, get her to remember.
He closed her file, stretched and rubbed his eyes, then sighed heavily. He stood and walked slowly from his office. At forty-nine years old, he was feeling decidedly too old for all this now.
•
In her room, Sarah blinked hard to focus on the darkness.
She couldn’t move.
Panic started to wash over her, the same familiar panic she had become accustomed to, but never used to, she knew Isobel was close. She tried to move her wrists yet the straps rubbed sharply, causing her to force herself still.
Turning her head, she could see light from the corridor seeping through the crack beneath the door. As she watched, the light faded as someone passed the room. She held her breath. Moments later, the light resumed and she let out a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing and slow down the thumping in her chest. Then she heard it, the familiar sound of a child’s music box, she knew then that Isobel was almost upon her.
She tried to scream but no sound penetrated the fear that now hung like a thick blanket over the room.
Her door opened, making Sarah squint against the sudden brightness that now descended on her. Re-adjusting her focus, she looked towards the open doorway and screamed. The sound of her own scream woke her. The room was in darkness; there was no one at the door. Sarah was now crying. Why did she keep dreaming of Isobel?
Sarah’s thoughts were jolted back to reality when she heard the alarm bells ringing and heavy footsteps running up the corridor.
Again she squinted against the onslaught of light that hit her, she then heard his voice.
‘‘Another nightmare, Sarah?’’ Ben asked.
She looked towards the sound of his voice, and saw whom she could only assume was Ben standing there, a silhouette in the bright lights.
‘‘Yes, I think so. No ... I don’t know. She was here, I heard her music box, and I saw her standing in the doorway.’’
Sarah was crying heavily.
‘‘No, she wasn’t, Sarah. Did you not just hear us open the door?’’
For the first time Sarah realised there were others in the room with them. The reality of this hit her so hard it took her breath away. She could feel the panic again rise within her as the reality of what was about to follow came to her. She was now crying hysterically.
“No, Ben please, I’m okay, don’t do it. Can’t I just lay here? I promise to be quiet, please, Ben?”
“Nurse, the syringe please. Sarah, you know it’s for your own good and safety, don’t you?” Ben said in a non-to-matter-of-fact type of voice. Inside he too was crying, how he hated his job at that chosen moment.
The faces before her began to fade; their voices became muffled sounds, like they were being spoken down the other end of some very long hollow tube.
She tried to say something but her lips wouldn’t move, the darkness descended over her like a mantle and, reluctantly, she gave into sleep. Again she was alone in her room.
•
Some days later, Sarah sat for the first time in Ben’s office.
“You know, Ben, this doesn’t look much like an office really,” she said and looked around.
“Okay,” she continued, “you’ve got your desk and everything, but it’s more like a lounge, don’t you think?” Sarah looked across the room at Ben, who was sitting comfortably behind his desk.
“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled.
“Yes, yes I do.” Sarah found herself smiling back and relaxed a little.
The room was bright and airy with a big bay window that overlooked an immaculate lawn. The blue walls radiated tranquillity and the yellow drapes complimented the window and the walls simultaneously. The settee was daffodil yellow and plump, blue cushions finished it off perfectly. All in all, Sarah liked this room very much.
“Now then, Sarah, tell me what you can remember before you woke up here in the hospital?”
“I can’t remember anything. What hospital is this?” she asked.
“It’s Moorlands hospital, Sarah. Does that mean anything to you?”Sarah thought for a while.
“It’s a mental hospital isn’t it? Why am I here, what has happened to me, where’s David?” Her eyes had widened to their full extent, making her elf like face appear even smaller, her tiny frame had gone rigid and her bottom lip also started to tremble.
“Relax, Sarah. No, I don’t call it a mental hospital. I prefer to call it a safe haven, a place to relax and unwind ... a place to discuss our fears and anxieties that the outside world throws at people every day. Everyone has a breaking point, Sarah, even you and me; people can only cope with so much, that’s human nature.”
“Is that what has happened to me, Ben? Do you think I'm mad?” She looked almost childlike sitting there on the settee with her legs drawn up beneath her chin. Her eyes glistened with tears bursting to overflow.
“This is what we are here to find out, you’re not mad, Sarah. You’re a beautiful young woman who has somehow reached her breaking point. We will, together, assemble the jigsaw and make you whole again.”
Ben smiled and again Sarah found herself smiling in response. She liked Ben and felt at that moment she could tell him anything, anything at all, if only she could remember herself.
“So, let’s start piecing this jigsaw together shall we,” he continued.
He was a handsome man, with lovely and warm, brown eyes that smiled continuously. His hair was the colour of ripe chestnuts and was slowly greying at the edges.
His broad shoulders never revealed the weight of his patient’s worries that he constantly carried.
“So, tell me, how did you meet David?” He was playing with a pen, swirling it through his fingers like a baton.
Sarah’s smile seemed to reach her eyes as she remembered.
“Oh, we were at high school together; David was the year above me. We met at the Christmas dance. I was fourteen, David nearly sixteen ... it’s just how our birthdays fell.”
“Did you start dating then?”
“Yes, we did. We were inseparable. People used to call us the Siamese twins, you know, joined at the hip and all that,” she laughed, before continuing. “We dated for five years before we married and we’ve been married for ten years now.”
“Where did you live when you first got married?” he asked, jotting down notes as they spoke.
“We didn’t have much money; David had only just got his job at the bank then, a junior position, and I worked as a junior designer for a clothing house. Money was tight so we rented a tiny, and I mean tiny, one bedroom flat in London.”
Sarah paused. Reminiscing about their first years together as a married couple bought a renewed freshness to her complexion. She smiled to herself.
“So, tell me, how did you come to live here in a small Essex village in, I hope you don’t mind me saying, what can only be described as a mansion?”
Laughing, Sarah said, “Oh, that’s easy, the house isn’t a mansion by the way, it’s an old manor house, built in the seventeen hundreds I believe. Anyway, it’s been in my family for generations, I spent a large part of my childhood there as it was owned by my grandparents.”
“So, how come you and David took it over? Did you inherit it?”
“Yes. Both my parents died in a car crash leaving my grandparents' house when I was seven. I think it eventually took its toll on them because, when I was eighteen and at university, they decided to move away to a small village just outside Nottingham. The house then remained empty until they passed away four years ago; it was then that it passed to me.”
“Can you remember anything about the accident?” Ben started. “ ... That killed your parents?”
Sarah sat and looked out of the bay window; the birds seemed to be dancing, playing on the lawn outside. She didn’t know if she was ready to relive what she classed as a ‘nightmare’ in her life. She still missed her parents, deeply.
“Ben, I can remember it as though it were yesterday. We had been to see my grandparents for the weekend and it was starting to get dark. I was sitting in the back talking twelve to the dozen and my mother was sitting in the front, laughing. The lane that led to the house was beautiful in summer. The trees seemed to bend inwards, their branches and leaves interlocked and almost made a tunnel over the lane. The wild flowers growing around the big tree trunks smelt like nothing I have ever smelt before, or since. Anyway, as I said, we had just pulled into the lane and as it was getting dark, the canopy of trees made the lane almost black.
Daddy had his lights on and we were going quite slowly ... and the woodland animals were just waking. Suddenly there was a young girl standing in front of us, not moving. She seemed to just appear out of nowhere. Daddy swerved to miss her and mummy screamed. Then I woke up in hospital.”
The tears were flowing freely now, her heart felt like it was breaking all over again, as it had done twenty-two years ago.
“Do you know what happened after your dad swerved the car?” he asked, now writing furiously. Ben was beginning to think that this could have been the stem of Sarah's illness; orphaned at a vulnerable age, perhaps she felt guilty at not loving her daughter, the way her parents had obviously loved her.
“I was told that when daddy swerved, he hit the large oak tree. They were both killed instantly, but I escaped with just a bruised shoulder and a bump on my head.”
He lifted his eyes and looked at her, feeling sorry for this young woman in front of him.
Leaning on his desk, Ben sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Sarah, but I have to ask this question. Do you feel guilty that you weren’t killed along with your parents?”
“I did at first, but my grandmother told me that fate moves in mysterious ways ... and that our paths are mapped out for us before we are born. We marry whom we are mapped out to marry, we live our lives as we are destined to do, and we die when fate has arranged for us to die. I found great comfort in that and I like to still believe it.”
“Your grandmother was a very wise woman.” He smiled.
“Yes, she was.” Sarah smiled back.
“So…” Ben continued, “You and David moved into the Manor house four years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about the Manor house.”
“Oh, it’s beautiful! It’s the only property down Manor
Lane, with the exception of the cottages on the land. It sits on top of the hill so it overlooks the village. On a clear day you can see Southend and the River Crouch. It’s the most striking place I have ever seen. The grounds stretch to over one hundred and forty acres, with its own lake filled with wildlife and fish. Mr Peters, an elderly man who resides in one of the Manor’s cottages, with his wife and son, tends the grounds, which he keeps immaculate. He worked for my grandparents, as did his father and his grandfather. I think his family has worked at the Manor forever, well since it was built anyway.”
“And the house?” he said. “Tell me about the house.”
“Well, it’s old as I have already said, although over the years bits have been added to the original structure. There is the main part of the house with a large entrance hall, accessed by big heavy double doors, oak I think. The staircase is central to the doors and sweeps both right and left on the first floor. The lounge and sitting room are on the left of the hallway and the dining room and study on the right. The kitchen and cellar are to the back of the house behind the staircase. Over the years an east and west wing have been added; both wings accessible from the lounge and dining room, which gives a further four large rooms. Upstairs there are seven bedrooms; a large bathroom and two rooms have en-suites. There is a door leading to a further flight of stairs where years ago the servant quarters were, which has a further eight rooms and the attic as well. Most of the rooms still have the old furniture in ... some of it is so old now; you dare not use it for fear of breaking it. David and I are slowly decorating and replacing the furniture to make it a bit more modern and bright.”
“It must be more difficult now that you have Bethany, she must take up a lot of your time?” Ben said, matter-of-factly.
Sarah’s face darkened immediately and the smile slid from her lips. “I don’t have a daughter, Ben. I did have once ... but not any more.” She looked down at her hands. Ben saw her wringing her fingers together.
“So, tell me, Sarah. What happened to your daughter?”
“I don’t know, I don’t want to know and I don’t want to talk about it any more.” She could feel the tears stinging her eyes and fought to keep them from over spilling.
“Okay, Sarah, that’s enough for today. See what you can remember when you try. The pieces of your jigsaw are already coming together.” He smiled warmly as he stood up. “Come, let me walk you back to your room, you need to rest.”
Sarah stood and tried to smile as they left the office and walked down the corridor to her room.
•
Her room was tastefully decorated in pastel green, the curtains and bedding were peach and someone had placed a vase of fresh flowers on the table.
In the far corner was the door that led to the en-suite bathroom, a small windowless room, tiled completely in peach. The suite and towels were a soft cream, which seemed to add light to what could have been a very dark
room. The furniture in her room was antique pine, and the small table and chairs were placed in front of a large picture window. There was a small two-seater settee in peach, which was lavished with plump soft cushions.
Sitting on her bed, Sarah desperately tried to stay awake.
Her session with Ben had exhausted her more than she thought, but the feeling of sleep started to overwhelm her. Lying down, the visions of the past she was so desperately trying to forget, danced in her mind.
Sleep overtook her and the normal safety she felt as her mind relaxed was replaced by thoughts she was too afraid to remember.
... And so her nightmare began.
Chapter Two.
The call came in the early hours. David and Sarah sat for what seemed like an eternity, staring at one another. Eventually a smile broke out on Sarah’s face. She couldn’t believe it. Jumping up, she began to dance around the room. David laughed.
“Calm down, love.” Her child like frame was silhouetted by the moonlight shining through the French doors at the end of the room.
“But, David, a little girl, coming here to stay with us. Long term the social worker said. I really didn’t think we would get a foster so quickly. It’s fantastic, can you believe it!” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. No, David couldn’t believe it. Less than a week had passed since that old dragon, Mrs. Leadbetter, had been looking down her nose at them, telling them that she would be in touch when their criminal checks returned and, more importantly, when she thought someone suitable for their charge, considering their inexperience, needed a long-term foster-carer. She then warned them that they didn’t come up very often; mostly they needed short-term temporary foster-carers.
