Exposure

by Avril Osborne

  “Well, as far as the paper is concerned, I think I’ve dealt with them. I threatened all sorts of dire consequences if they dared to print anything that could be considered libellous and I warned them not to believe the ravings of a suicidal nutcase. You know the sort of thing. I threw in the ‘every confidence in our Presenter’ bit, of course.”

  “Thanks, Jonathon. Do you think I should go to the police?” She knew what he would say but her question sounded good. She was prepared to take action and so seemed to have nothing to hide. Bill told her that letters like this could be deemed to be a breach of the peace so a complaint to the police was a possibility.

  “Up to you, of course, but you could just be drawing more attention to the whole business. He’s probably done his worst now. First he went to the TV Company and then to the press. I’m not sure he has anywhere else to go.”

  Susan saw the logic. She also saw that Jonathon would want this kept quiet. He almost said as much when he told her that he had no choice but to speak up the line to the Board. Susan knew from his expression that the support was not as unreserved from their higher echelons as it was from Jonathon. She understood perfectly.

  She deliberates on her own for two days before deciding that she should confront Ramsey. In these two days, she imagines all the worst things that could happen if she does nothing. She could get letter after letter from Ramsey. Or he might write to others, those letters going God knows where. He could get in touch with Bill again. He could draw the press directly to himself. Worst, he could be out of hospital and be a real physical threat to her. She thought that he was a wimp and a coward but a mentally unstable person can do anything. She needed to be safe in every sense. She would see him and thereby make attack her best form of defence.

  She rings Brenda to check out the situation. How is she? She is so sorry not to have been in touch but she has been very busy. How is Dave? Is he home now? She sounds vaguely surprised to hear that the man is still in hospital. Brenda sounds as depressed as her husband is. Susan offers to meet her for coffee and chooses the next day, Saturday, and once again the Café Noir.

  Brenda has made an effort with her hair and makeup this morning and this seems to be in Susan’s honour. She has never been made up at the hospital. Susan settles her with a coffee as weak, at Brenda’s request, as the Cafe can provide. The young woman is desperate to tell Susan about the intervening time since they met. For Brenda, as she looks back, it has all been a haze. It is clear that Dave is struggling with some unspoken weight on his shoulders. Brenda, for her part, asks him nothing but looks after the practicalities of fresh underwear, toiletries and pyjamas. She tidies the cubicle on the psychiatric ward and keeps flowers fresh and watered. Without saying anything, Dave has made it clear that any attempt at breaking through the barrier of silence that he has erected is futile and so she contents herself with talking about the things in the outside world that she feels will interest him. She brought magazines from the church and told him about the Sunday sermons that the Reverend Graham gave whilst he was in hospital. It was announced from the pulpit that Dave was taken ill quite suddenly and for the moment was too ill for visitors but the good wishes and prayers of the congregation were sent to him.

  Brenda still has no idea what is behind the suicide attempt. Nor does either set of parents. If Dave is now talking to the psychiatric team, she is not being told. She has had a couple of sessions with the social worker, Ann. A nice woman, she thinks, but she always asks difficult and personal questions.

  Brenda looks at Susan over her coffee, obviously thinking about saying something.

  “Go on, Brenda. What is it?” Susan encourages her.

  “It’s just that, well, I could be tempted just to walk away, you know. Ann keeps asking me about our private life and she seems to be suggesting there’s something wrong with it.”

  “Is there? It’s not uncommon, you know.” Susan wonders what Brenda will say in response to such a straight-to-the-point question. But she asks it in a gentle voice, encouraging Brenda to feel safe enough to be open with her.

  “Well, I don’t really know what’s normal, if you know what you mean. I’ve never refused him or anything like that. It’s just that I don’t really like it very much. He complains that I just lie there. Isn’t that what you’re meant to do, Susan?”

  Brenda’s description of her sex life with Dave comes as no surprise. But Susan is not about to be sex counsellor – that is something she can well leave to Ann. It is clear that Dave must have been bemoaning his lot to the psychiatrist. She diverts Brenda’s question with a smile of sympathy and a comment that Dave is lucky to have her. Is she serious about walking away?

  “No. Not really, I suppose. But sometimes these last few weeks, I’ve thought how nice it would be to just go on in the flat by myself. I don’t really know who Dave is any more. I thought that we were just an ordinary couple. Then there was the suicide and now these questions about sex. If I could afford to be on my own, I might. But all I could do would be to go back to Mum and Dad and that would be worse than being with Dave. Anyway, they are very fond of him and I couldn’t really do it. And his parents would be furious. It’s going to be bad enough for him when he comes out from hospital.”

  “What about his work when he’s well?”

  “He won’t be allowed back to the Cathedral for a while. He’s to go and do some administration work, researching and tidying the archives. Reverend Graham has arranged it. He needs to be quite better before he works with the congregation again. So I couldn’t think about leaving, could I?”

  Poor, mousy Brenda, Susan thinks.

  “Poor Brenda,” she says. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing, Susan. I just can’t believe that you have been so kind to us.”

  “Brenda,” Susan asks, as if the thought has just occurred to her, “Might I go and see Dave in hospital? Just to have a chat and see if I can help at all.”

  Brenda’s face lights with surprise and delight. She would be very grateful.

  With a few directions about how to find the ward and what the visiting times are, she leaves Brenda, promising to be back in touch. Perhaps she leaves Brenda with too clear an impression that she is about to somehow save their marital situation. But her way is clear to being seen in the hospital, without it looking odd to Brenda.

  CHAPTER 11

  She chooses the next afternoon, as she knows that Brenda visits over her lunchtime and in the evenings. She does not forewarn Dave. She just turns up at the reception and asks for directions to the ward. She is vaguely surprised at the building. It looks more like a hotel foyer than a hospital. Off to the left of the reception desk is a café bar, and to the right, shops with flowers, cards and newspapers. There is even a row of bank dispensers. She knows that there must be locked wards somewhere on this campus, but this is a far cry from the Victorian image she was carrying in her mind.

  She is directed down several corridors, all brightly lit, and opening out at various points onto patios with garden seats. The ward itself is open through double glass doors. A central sitting area with the mandatory television and a dining area to the side make it remarkably like an ordinary residence. Only the workstation and office behind it say that this is a hospital.

  A man in civilian clothes comes from behind the station to greet her. She informs him with a degree of assertiveness that is meant to suggest that she will not take no for an answer that she has come to see Dave Ramsey. The young man, a big, no-nonsense type, but pleasant as well, smiles at her. The label on his lapel announces that he is a nurse named Joe. Dave is in his own room. Joe will go and find him if she would like to sit down. He will ask Dave if he wants a visit from her. He takes her name.

  She waits for what seems like too long. Dave must be refusing. If there is a problem, the male nurse does not let that be evident. Instead, he says that Dave was in the shower. He will be out in a moment. Why does she not sit over in the corner, where they can talk in privacy? She knows that she
is not being allowed to see him in his room – perhaps for her own protection. From the wrath she is feeling towards Ramsey as she waits, it is perhaps he who is at risk.

  She waits and Dave finally comes down the side corridor towards her. He looks very different from how she saw him either as a so-called lover or in the renal unit. He has lost weight and is pale. His eyes are haunted as if he is afraid not just of her but also of life itself. Presumably he is on medication. His gait is slow.

  She sees at a glance that this is likely to be an encounter rather than a meeting. And it is likely to be brief at that. Despite dulled eyes, dulled presumably by pills, there is an overt hostility in Dave’s demeanour and expression. As he comes towards her, she finds herself wondering how she could have allowed this great gangling oaf of a man anywhere near her in the past. It is a thought that she conceals behind a smile suitable for a hospital visit. She stands up. She knows she feels disadvantaged whilst seated.

  “What are you doing here?” He comes to a stop about three yards from her, making no move to come any closer.

  She rallies; coming closer to him to break the second of confrontation but not so close that he could touch her. Her smile is all but gone now. She is cool but not unpleasant.

  “I wanted to see how you are and to have a word with you about something.”

  “Why have you been seeing Brenda?”

  This surprises her. She somehow imagined that Brenda would not have said anything. Behind Dave, she can see Joe scrutinising a clipboard. In reality, he is observing them. She raises her voice to audible and adopts a compassionate smile.

  “I’ve been very concerned about you, Dave – about you and Brenda.”

  For a second, a look of fleeting doubt passes over Dave’s face. She takes her opportunity and sits down on one of the pine-framed armchairs. He stands for a second and then sits opposite her.

  “How are you, Dave?”

  “Depressed. How do you imagine I am?”

  “What treatment are you having?”

  “I see the shrink. And there’s a group. It’s on just now. I didn’t feel like it. I could do with being out of here but they won’t let me.”

  Then he rounds on her.

  “This is all your fault.”

  “What is, Dave?

  “The pills. Being here. The church.”

  “The church? I thought your colleague, Reverend Graham, was helping you? I thought you were talking to him?”

  “I see him a lot. If it weren’t for him, I’d have been thrown out of the church because I slept with you, and because I tried to kill myself. I’ve lost my job, thanks to you, but at least they’re going to find something for me to do. That’s because Brian Graham spoke up for me.”

  She raises her eyebrows in unspoken surprise. She wants to give Joe the impression that she has no idea what Dave can be talking about.

  “I’m sorry about your job, Dave.” She needs Dave to believe her and she is not ready for his next reaction.

  “Sorry? How can you say that? You’re the one who told them about us in the first place.”

  She just looks at him, momentarily taken aback.

  “I told the church? Is that what you think?”

  “Of course. I’m no fool. You don’t think I’d have attempted suicide otherwise, do you?”

  She is stunned. Ramsey took the pills, believing she had told the church about them

  “That’s rubbish, Dave. I told no one.”

  She remembers the listening nurse.

  “I mean, I told no one anything. What are you talking about, Dave?”

  He does not believe her. She can see that. He rounds on her again, his voice now loud enough to be heard across the room. He is the personification of love made angry, of love turned to hate. He sneers out the words.

  “Do you know, I think about you. But it is like an aberration on my part, what I felt for you. You are an ice maiden, Susan Blakely, a cold, frozen ice maiden. You destroyed something in me, something that could have been good and special for both of us. You only ever pretended. I see that now. You were indifferent from day one. And you humiliated me. You humiliated me by using me. No wonder I wanted to die. No wonder I’m depressed. I could tell you what I’d like to do to you and you wouldn’t like it, I can tell you.”

  She feels cold – rigid with the crushing attack, worried that the nurse must have overheard. But she does not want to provoke Dave despite the real threat that he has just issued.

  “It’s over, Dave. Just accept that.” She whispers the words.

  She tries to remain calm, and smiles over at the nurse.

  “It was all very unfortunate but it’s over. Leave it alone now. You need to move on with your life.” Again, she makes sure the nurse can not hear her.

  “Yes. It is over. And it’s over at no cost to you, Susan. It’s cost me my job. And unless I tell Brenda and ask her forgiveness the church is unlikely to have me preach again. That’s what I’m told, anyway, by Brian Graham.”

  “Tell Brenda? Dave, is that wise? What good would it do?” As Susan says this, she knew that her words will hold no sway in comparison with those of Brian Graham. Brenda will be told. Dave’s words confirm this.

  “I won’t have God’s forgiveness unless I do tell her.”

  Susan switches tack. Her voice is at an ordinary level now.

  “Dave, these anonymous letters have got to stop.”

  He eyes her, expressionless.

  “What letters?”

  “Come on, Dave. I mean it.” She makes a tactical error now, as she utters her next sentence. She knows it as soon as she speaks, but it is too late.

  “Don’t deny it, Dave. I’m warning you. These letters must stop.”

  He is up, standing over her.

  “You? You are warning me? How dare you?”

  The nurse is over and by his side. He was quick and he is calm.

  “Steady, Dave. Steady.”

  Dave crumbles immediately, sinking back into his chair.

  All concern now, Susan says,

  “I’m sorry, Dave. I really did not mean to upset you.”

  Dave waves his hand in dismissal, his eyes to the ground. Susan looks at the nurse.

  “I’ll go. I’m so sorry. Dave, you take care of yourself.” She starts towards the door.

  The nurse follows her to the exit.

  “He’s not well, is he?” she says, sympathetically.

  “Well, we have a long way to go yet.” The nurse is inscrutable.

  “But that outburst was so unlike Dave.”

  Joe smiles.

  “We have been working with him on assertiveness. You know, how not to be a passive victim in life.” He looks at her carefully. Susan can only guess at what the psychiatric team knows and at how much the nurse overheard. She will not be visiting this ward again.

  As she walks down the corridor, she decides that she needs to steady her nerves before she drives. She chooses an indifferent cup of coffee from the dispenser in the café bar and sits over it, dwelling on whether it was a mistake to come here. On balance, she concludes not. She has learned a few things; not least that Dave blamed her, firstly for the affair and secondly for breaching that information to his employer, the church. As long as he believes that and remains in this volatile state, he poses a real threat to her. She has not spoken to the church. So who has? She has told no one. So, did Dave speak to someone before the suicide attempt? If not he, then who? Not Brenda, obviously. And now he is about to tell Brenda – Brenda whom she has befriended over these last weeks. How will Brenda react?

  Has he told the truth about the anonymous letters? He must have been lying. No matter who else knows, this surely has to be the work of his depressed and deranged mind.

  It is an uncomfortable time in the hours after her visit. She is very tempted to go the police and suggest that they should treat Ramsey as a possible threat and as a stalker. But something stops her. She decides instead to cover her tracks with Brenda, hopefull
y before Dave sees her this evening at visiting time.

  At five o’clock, she is outside the University Department of Divinity where Brenda is a secretary. Susan remembers Brenda telling her how she was so lucky to get the job when Dave started his post-graduate studies. It meant they could have the occasional lunch together. She emerges right on five o’clock, out through the swing doors and down the sweeping stairs that lead from the imposing stone fascia of the building behind. Susan presses the car horn to attract her over to the car. She has come to offer Brenda a lift to the hospital and to tell her about her visit to Dave.

  He really is quite unwell is he not? Obviously, he is very depressed and, Susan wonders, is he also a little bit deluded? He seems to have suggested that he and Susan had a thing going in the past. It was strange, wasn’t it? But he is in good hands from what she has seen of the staff. And what a nice place the hospital is.

  She is sure that Brenda has no need to worry. It will all end up fine in the end. She will ring in a while to see how things are. As she says all this, she watches the road, but casts the occasional glance at Brenda. The young woman just looks surprised and shocked at her comments about Dave. But she seems to take it all in, hook, line and sinker. And, Susan thinks, as she drives off, it really is best that Dave’s confession to his little wife, as and when it comes, falls on deaf ears. She is doing their marriage a favour. Brenda will never believe him now.

  She tells no one about her visit to the hospital. She might have said something to Linda but academic pressures mean that her friend is preoccupied with the end of term and with writing up her book. Susan knows how compelling the business of writing is and has to accept that Linda simply does not have time to join her for a meal. In one phone call, she does tell Linda about the press call from the City Tribune to the TV Company and Linda listens carefully as Susan tells her that she thinks that her boss has handled it and that it has been stopped.

  She gives Bill the same account about the second letter. This seems to have the effect of him becoming protective again and his moodiness disappears. His rage towards Ramsey is all good stuff as far as Susan is concerned and she finds real comfort from her otherwise lonely, frightened, almost free-floating anxiety because of it. Bill’s rage makes her feel safer.